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impala-dreamer · 5 months

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Pondering Fate While Ignoring The Obvious

A Ten Inch Hero Story

~Priestly has got it so bad for Tish that he can barely see past the end of her... well, her back end, anyway. He's love sick and forever rejected, constantly stuck inside his own head. When a new girl in town starts messing with him, he quickly loses his cool...~

Boaz Priestly x F!Reader

2,511 Words

Warnings: Nuttin' but fluff and banter. ;)

A/N: This is another square for my @jacklesversebingo card. The prompt is "Backhanded Compliment/Convenience Store/Sugar Addict"

Now listen- I've never written for this movie before, but I had so much fun doing it. If you've seen the movie, I think you'll love this. If you haven't seen it, you may not totally get it, but you'll still love it because it's cute and fluffy and I said so. Give it a chance ;)

Another day, another spicy Italian with no oil and no vinegar. How you could eat a hero dry was a question he could never quite grasp the answer to, but in the end, did another weird order really matter? He’d put a condom on the bun if they asked for it. Maybe not a used one, but then again, Tish was looking extra spicy herself today.

Tish. Goddamnit. There she goes flirting with every male in existence except him. There she is leaning over the counter in that not-so-sneaky way that pushes her tits up and out, giving everyone and their mother a look into the valley of the Promised Land.

For fuck’s sake, if she’d only do that for him.

Then again, nothin’ he hadn’t seen before.

Fingers snapped in front of his face and Priestly blinked himself back into reality.

“Can I help you?” he asked, still half dazed and half hard after staring so intently at his coworker.

Piper sighed. “Yeah. You gotta make a run down the street.”

He sighed harder. “You know, you ladies are capable of patronizing the convenience store now and then. It’s not really hard. You just pick out what you need and exchange it for cash.”

The tiny blonde pouted and batted her lashes. “Please? My feet hurt from standing all day.”

He scoffed. “And mine don't?”

“I’m not used to it. I’m delicate.”

Priestly scratched at the bright green spikes that sat atop his head for the day, masquerading as a hairstyle. He frowned but relented. “Fine. Gimme the list.”

He saw her from the street. He wasn’t purposely peeping through the window like a stalker, but he felt like it all the same. It wasn’t his fault, not really. Things mostly stayed the same around town, so when something was different, when someone new showed up, it tended to stick out a bit.

The new girl at the register was cute, not particularly daring in her style or makeup palette, but she was attractive. Probably the thing Priestly noticed first was the lollipop stick hanging from her painted lips.

His entrance was announced by the jangling of bells and she looked up as he came in. She smiled around the pop and twirled the white paper stick between her fingers.

“Welcome.”

He looked back at her over his shoulder and nodded. “Hey.”

Slowly, she pulled the treat from her mouth and licked the very tip. Her tongue was as red as the pop and Priestley was sure that his cheeks were turning the same shade. He cleared his throat quickly and turned back, going about his business.

The store was otherwise empty except for Mr. Jacobson, the old man who never seemed to go anywhere but was always wherever you went. He was currently lingering at the end of the aisle, amazed at the sheer amount of chip flavors the new millennium had to offer.

“Back in my day we had regular and salt & vinegar, and we were grateful!”

Priestly laughed under his breath and looked over the rack at the register. She was laughing softly as well, and when their eyes met, she didn’t shy away.

He did; quickly tearing his gaze from the cherry pop and focusing on the aluminum foil instead. There was no use flirting with her anyway- she’d never go for him. She looked too normal, too pretty to fall for his shenanigans. Best not to even think about it.

Arms fully stocked, he headed her way, keeping his eyes on the black and gray tiled floor and praying she wouldn’t make his heart race any faster.

She sucked hard on the Blow Pop and then took a bite, making him jump. Sugar crackled between her teeth and she winked.

“I hope you overcharge them,” she said dryly, staring him down.

Confusion took the place of shyness and Priestly’s face scrunched up. “What?” he snapped, jerking away from the counter.

The girl rolled her eyes and went about ringing up his order without another word.

Cash exchanged, Priestly thanked her and walked out, still wondering what the hell she was talking about.

Monday.

Priestly stared out the front window, wondering if the day was going to go his way or not. He knew he shouldn’t bother pondering the Fates, because they always seemed against him, but he liked to think he had some hope tucked away somewhere beneath the Manic Panic hair dye and all the metal sticking out of his head. If there was, he couldn’t find any today.

Tish was late, as usual, probably rolling out of some strange guy’s arms and fishing for her bra underneath the bed.

Someday… someday, that’d be his bed she was searching under. Someday, those would be his arms she rolled out of. He just had to keep hoping.

Or not. He really didn’t care.

The sun was too bright, the grill was too hot. He hated everything.

Except the sound of bubblegum popping behind him. He didn’t seem to hate that.

With spatula in hand, he turned and startled just enough to make the bubblegum appear between coyly smiling pink lips.

“Hey.”

Priestley squinted. “You’re that chick from the store.”

Annoyance crept onto her face. “And you’re that dude with too much eyeliner.”

He laughed before realizing she was insulting him and ended up jolting up on his toes awkwardly, half a smile curled on his lip.

He cleared his throat. “Priestly.”

She squinted. “Like Elvis?”

He shrugged. “And you are?”

“Hungry.”

Slapping a five on the counter, she picked up her hero and spun away, heading toward the door. She turned to push it open with her backside and popped her gum again.

Her eyes were glued to him and Priestly felt his stomach flip. He met her gaze and she smiled.

“I always do.”

He wanted to say something, to ask her what the hell she was talking about, but she was gone before the words reached his tongue.

“Always do what?”

Jen turned her head his way, but her eyes were still locked on the computer screen. “What’s up?”

He sighed. “Nothing. Just a weird girl from…nothing.”

It was nothing. She was just the weird girl from down the street. And anyway, he was supposed to be hating everything today, not shifting his ponderance to the mystery of the gum chewing, pop crunching girl from the convenience store.

“Nothing.”

Blue hair; don’t care.

Priestly cracked an egg on the grill and watched the edges sizzle. He wasn’t great at a lot of things, but cooking eggs was something he did exceptionally well. The butter bubbled around the perimeter, curling the whites just slightly, and he pushed the tip of his spatula against it.

Not ready yet.

The girls were, yet again, chatting about men, and he kept one ear on the sizzle and the other in their conversation.

“I just don’t understand how hard it is to find. It’s right there.” Tish laughed and pushed a delicate hand back through her hair. “It’s a clit, not the Holy Grail.”

Priestly raised a brow. “Some would call it that though,” he interjected.

She rolled her eyes. “You would.”

Offended, he sucked in a quick breath. “Ya know something-”

She turned, one hand on her hip, waiting. “Yeah?”

His lips pursed and dejected, he turned back to the grill. “Forget it.”

“Thought so,” she laughed.

God, she was such a bitch sometimes. OK, most times, but still.

Tish went back to leaning on the counter and he took the opportunity to peek at her ass.

Behind him, a throat was cleared.

Priestly sighed, knowing what was waiting for him when he turned. Or, rather, who.

“You again.” He batted his lashes.

She smacked her lips. “Me again.” From her pocket, she withdrew a pink Starburst and fiddled with the wrapper.

He eyed the candy and followed it to her mouth. Her lips were darker today and it reminded him of the cherry pop. “You eat too much sugar, you know that?”

She smiled gently. “And you dye your hair too much. That isn’t good for you. All those chemicals are gonna fry your brain.”

“Joke’s on you, it’s already fried- shit!” Fried egg. Burnt to a crisp. “Damnit.”

Sugar Girl swallowed a laugh and the Starburst.

He turned around, annoyed at himself and her laughter. “Are you- do you want something?”

“Yup.” She nodded and took her order from Piper, who was holding a small, paper-wrapped hero. “Thanks.”

Green eyes narrowed on her smile. She was weird. Way too weird. And kinda rude.

“You ever gonna tell me your name?” he asked, calling out as she pushed open the door.

“Sure,” she replied, “Soon as I get my free sample.”

“Huh?”

Confusion always seemed to linger when she left, that and the smell of strawberries. Or cherries, or whatever she’d been sucking on.

Sucking on…

His eyes flickered over to Tish and he wondered if she was as good at sucking things as she claimed.

It was raining and he was cranky.

He’d missed his alarm, the car wouldn’t start, and a passing bus nearly drenched him head to toe.

It wasn’t supposed to rain at the beach. It was practically against the law. Nature’s law, anyway.

And to top it all off, Tish was bragging about the amazing night she’d had with a handsome stranger visiting from New York.

“He’s just in town for a few days, so it’s nothing serious,” she explained to a wide-eyed Piper who was drinking down every word. “But man, I wouldn’t be mad if it was. He’s… tall and handsome and-”

Priestly cleared his throat. “Ya know I’m pretty tall.”

She clicked her tongue. “And?”

His heart ached at her callousness. “And… just thought I’d remind you.”

Maybe she didn’t know what she was doing to him, but he thought his advances were fairly obvious. Maybe she was just a bitch.

Jen derailed his thought train with a shopping list she’d printed out.

He shook his head. “No.”

“Please?”

The shop on the corner was the last place he wanted to go. Nameless Sugar Girl was the last person he wanted to see. “Why do I always have to go?” He pouted and gestured to the window. “It’s pouring rain out there.”

Jen looked up with puppy-dog eyes. “Which is why I’m asking you to please go.”

A heavy sigh was his only reply. Priestly grabbed the paper from her hand, crumpling it beyond repair, and set out into the downpour.

He was dripping by the time he made it down the street. He sneered at the water on his face, rolled his eyes at the welcome mat, swatted viciously at the bells as they rang above his head.

“Rough morning?” she asked, watching his huffy entrance.

He scowled. “You could say that.”

A peppermint rolled on her tongue and the red and white stripes caught his eye. “Well, lemme know if you need any assistance.”

Priestly ran a hand through his teal-tinted hair and shook out a puddle’s worth of rain. “Yeah. Thanks.”

It took him a while to collect the goods, having trouble finding the right paper towels that would fit into the holder in the bathrooms. He’d never had any issues in the store before; seemed like someone had rearranged.

Someone.

He looked across the rows of sundries and wondered what her deal was. Hell, he still didn’t even know her name. Not that he wanted to, of course.

Of course.

Finally, and with much annoyance, he arrived at the register.

She laughed softly as he unloaded his arms.

He shook his head. “What?”

“I… I shouldn’t even touch this one.”

He had no clue what she was talking about, he never did, and he was at the end of his rope.

His patience snapped. “What?”

She sat back, clearly hurt by his tone. “Your shirt.”

She pointed at his chest and he looked down, reading the big black letters upside down.

‘Save a tree, eat a beaver’

His shoulders fell. “Oh. Yeah. Whatever.”

“Yeah,” she echoed, the sting heavy in her voice. “Whatever.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. Dropping a can of coffee onto the counter, he slapped his palms down on either side of it and leaned in.

“Ya know, everytime I see you, you’ve got something snarky to say.”

Her eyes went wide. “Snarky?” She frowned. “I thought I was flirting.”

The fight drained out of him along with the blood in his cheeks. Confused once more. “Uh… what?”

Pushing herself up off the stool, she mirrored his pose, hands falling dangerously close to his. “Flirting,” she said again. “It’s an ancient ritual in which a sexually interested party attempts to lure their prey into bed with witty and charming wordplay.”

He balked. “I know what flirting is!”

She glared. “Then why haven’t you picked up on the fact that I’ve been trying to pick you up for weeks now?”

“I uh…” His elbows buckled and he stood up fully. “You have?” No way. She wasn’t…

Memories of the past month flooded his mind. Each time he’d seen her she was smiling at him, not being snarky. She was teasing him, answering the ridiculous sayings on his shirt.

‘I sell crack for the CIA.’ … “I hope you overcharge them”

‘Surf naked.’ … “I always do.”

‘Orgasm Donor - Ask for your free sample’ … “As soon as I get my free sample.”

It had been smacking him in the damned face and he hadn’t seen it. She had been playing with him the whole time, not trying to annoy him. She wanted him to notice her, but he was too busy dreaming of Tish, wondering when she’d notice him.

He sucked in a stunned breath. “You have. Wow.”

A tiny smile returned to her cherry lips. “Come on, I know you’re not as dumb as your fashion sense implies.”

Priestly felt a dip in his gut, something fluttering around inside. He grinned. “Oh, I’m way dumber.”

Reaching across the counter, she grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him close. “Good.”

Her lips were soft, the kiss as sweet as the candy she was always eating. He breathed her in as her tongue swept over his. He was stunned, confused but in a good way. Maybe he needed to push Tish aside and pay more attention to the world around him. Maybe this was a good thing. A really good thing. His eyebrows raised in surprise, his blood pressure raised even higher.

She pulled away slowly, her lips lingering on his.

“You get it now?”

She waited, blinking at him with the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. He should have looked sooner, closer; should have given her a chance.

“Yeah,” he whispered in a laugh. “I think I do.”

Another kiss, a press of her hand at the nape of his neck.

“You ever gonna tell me your name?”

She smiled. “Y/N.”

He reached for her cheek; fingers landing lightly on her soft skin.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

2023 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

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#ten inch hero #fanfiction #priestly x reader #boaz priestly x reader #fluff #jacklesversebingo23

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indieyuugure · 9 months

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I thought 2k12 Donnie and Leo may be arguing again？Just like the original series（S2E25-26）.Because Don didn't follow his plan.....

Yes and no. See, in the first part of Hell on Earth you see this sequence play out:

Donnie finds a hole in Leo’s plan. The hole being that Leo wants them to destroy the crystals as soon as possible, but if they’re destroyed, then they can’t make a portal home.

If the Kraang get away with that crystal, tracking them down could take weeks if not months. That would be months of the Kraang having the ability to make a portal from anywhere to the Rise universe freely. Leo knows the kind of damage the Kraang can do in months and doesn’t want to risk it, so to guarantee that the absolutely can not get away with the crystal, they have to destroy it.

Krang, however, doesn’t mind them getting the crystal, once the Technodrome is through the portal, he has no intention of going back there. Krang wants to close the portal as soon as possible, but he wants that crystal intact so he can conquer all of reality, every dimension, every universe, everything everything. So, while they don’t have to destroy the crystal, Leo worries that if it’s not destroyed, just because the portal is closed and Krang is back in the Prison Dimension, the Kraang could just steal back the crystal and the whole disaster could start all over again.

Leo’s point here is that the only way to guarantee that the crystals don’t fall into the wrong hands or start some new catastrophe, is to wipe them from existence. Except if he does that, then—as Donnie pointed out—they’ll be stuck in the Rise universe forever.

Now you’re probably about to comment: “why don’t he just get Mikey to get a shard?” Well yes, as the author, I’m aware of that. But in universe, Leo has no clue what he’s up against. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen, what crazy tricks the Kraang and Krang have up their sleeves, he has no idea what could happen and so he’s planning to have to plan later when he better understands the situation.

Donnie, however doesn’t see that Leo is trying to improvise his plan moment by moment to account for the wild and unpredictable nature of the Kraang and Krang. If you guys remember back to Eye of the Storm, Leo learns to value his life after he scrapes death for the third time, but Donnie doesn’t see this. He still think Leo is a suicidal maniac with a guilt complex trying to prove his worth as a hero. He thinks that when Leo drew a blank, that he was lying. He thinks that Leo wasn’t saying “we’ll figure something out” because that part of the plan literally didn’t exist, but because he does have a plan and he knows that if he told it to Donnie, that Donnie would object.

Donnie is doing what Leo had hoped he would: figuring out a plan to make sure they can get home. I’d say the issue here is really more that Donnie has zero trust in Leo and is extremely suspicious of everything he says and does. I’m sure I could get into way more stuff on why Donnie still has no trust in Leo, but I feel like this response is long enough.

So to summarize: Yeah Donnie and Leo are in another fight, though this one isn’t verbal, yet anyway. Donnie thinks Leo is up to his old tricks, but really Leo is just trying to figure out how to take down some of the most powerful monsters in the universe while making sure everyone doesn’t die and ensuring that him and his team can get back home and hasn’t got there yet. Suffice to say there’s a lot of miscommunication going on, or really the lack there of.

Good question! :]

#rise of the parallel #q&a #tmnt #ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles

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unhappycylinder · 8 months

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Gonna Be Trouble (Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Fem!Reader) Pt. 8

wc: 3.3k

Warnings: Jake being an idiot, cursing, Gabby and Rooster being adorable,

Series Masterlist

“Gabby I just don’t know what to do,” you sobbed into the phone, “I know he said that stuff to push me away, I know it's not how he really feels, but what kind of person can say that to someone they love? He probably doesn’t even love me…”

“Y/n don’t say that,” Gabby’s comforting voice brought more tears to your eyes, “you know he loves you, we all do, but you gotta remember its Hangman we’re talking about. He doesn’t know how to love someone this much. He’s from Texas, he doesn’t know how to have feelings.”

You laughed, wiping away your tears that had pooled in the crease of your nose, “very fair.”

“I’m so sorry he did this…” Gabby stuttered, “I have no idea why. We talked to him just the same day he called you, like literally hours before, and he told Rooster that he believed in you guys…”

That only made you sob harder, “then which one is it?” You coughed, the emotions overloading you to the point you thought you might throw up.

“Sweetheart oh my god,” Gabby’s heart broke for you, and her blood ran cold thinking of Hangman and how he could hurt you like this, “I don’t think you should be alone right now”

“There’s nothing I can do about that Gabby. It’s a long weekend, I have no friends here who know anything about my personal life, I have no money to go anywhere, I’m stuck,” you ranted to her.

“Alright then I’m flying you down”

“What?” You squeaked, “Gabby you’re not doing that”

“Yeah I am,” she pulled out a computer and started typing, you just stared at her dumbfounded over the phone, “send me your TSA number honey, we’re getting you out of there”

“Gabby,” you ran your hands over your forehead, “a flight to San Diego would be like $400 this last minute, it's ridiculous. I’ll be fine, I’m not-”

“Y/n just hush. You’re my best friend, you need support, and I need to see you. Plus, my husband’s in the military, I get flight discounts, and I have access to his credit card and he’s gonna be away at sea so who’s gonna know”

“You’ve got this deployment thing down don’t you,” you laughed at her

“We’ve only been married a few months but I’ve been with this idiot for years, and not once has he questioned why thousands of dollars leave his bank account every time he goes away. Honestly I don’t think he’s smart enough to remember how much money he had before he left…” She rambled while she booked your flight, “Can you be at the airport at 6 tomorrow? Direct flight to San Diego at 8:30…Roo and I can pick you up?”

“Gabby, I mean this sincerely, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you smiled at her,

“Suffer…probably,” she giggled, making you laugh too.

“Thank you Gabby, you’re the best”

“I know I am,” she flipped her hair, “anyway I gotta go soak up some Rooster time before he leaves for forever…”

You giggled, “I don’t want to know details…I’ll see you tomorrow, love you!”

“Love you more, go get some sleep, and don’t forget about your flight please!”

You blew her a kiss before hanging up. Luckily, the emotions from Jake’s phone call had drained you for the day, and you fell asleep pretty easily after the talk with Gabby. After all, you had a flight to catch in the morning.

—

“You better give me a big hug right now,” Gabby said as she walked towards you, arms wide open, as you exited the airport and the warm California air hit your face. Your lip quivered at the sight of your best friend, your tired arm threatening to drop your duffel bag as you embraced her and let your tears flow.

“You’re okay sweetie, you’re here now,” Gabby comforted you as she ran her fingers through your hair

“You have no idea how much this means to me,” you sobbed out, “I’m so happy to be here”

“Awww, I know,” she pulled away and grabbed your face, the widest smile across hers.

“Ladies, this is cute and all,” Rooster yelled from the car, “but this is 5 minute parking and this pilot isn’t looking to get banned from the airport anytime soon…”

“Oh calm down pendejo,” Gabby grabbed your bag from you and threw it into the trunk of the car.

Sliding into the back seat of the car, you caught Rooster’s apologetic gaze through the rear view mirror, the sorrow in his eyes nearly making you break down again.

“Still haven’t heard anything from Hangman?” He asked, the bronco slowly moving out of the line of cars waiting to pick up passengers.

“Ay!” Gabby exclaimed, slapping the back of his head.

“What?” Rooster threw a hand up in defense, hunching over the steering wheel to avoid his wife’s swing.

“Why the fuck would you ask that?” Gabby hissed before turning around to face you, “I’m sorry honey, Mexico did a number on his brain apparently,” she joked as she muttered curses in Spanish to herself. Gabby and Rooster had just returned from a short but sweet honeymoon in Mexico, of which you heard many….maybe too many…intimate tales.

“It’s okay,” you sighed, “um I haven’t heard from him.”

Gabby and Rooster shared a knowing glance.

“Not to keep making you guys play middleman but…have you heard anything?”

“Um…” they both said in unison while staring at each other.

“You can tell me, guys, I’m pretty sure I’d rather know than not.”

Rooster sighed before turning to his wife, who then turned back around to face you.

“I wasn’t gonna tell you this cause I didn’t want you to get anxious,”

Too late, you thought to yourself.

“Jake knows you’re here…”

“Oh?” You felt a punch in your gut, the feeling of anxiety creeping into your throat as Gabby watched you process, “does he-”

“It doesn’t matter what he wants,” Gabby placed her hand on your knee, “you’re here to relax, not appease him. We’ll answer any questions you have of course, but I want you to spend this weekend how you want to, no matter what, okay?”

You sighed, questions and concerns filling your mind, “Okay,” you shook your head. Relaxing was probably the last thing you could do right now.

—

“I think I need to see him,” you muttered as Gabby helped you put your toiletries away in the guest bathroom.

Gabby sighed, “okay, whatever you want, but do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“I don’t know, is it? Did he say anything about wanting to see me?” You reclined against the bathroom counter, arms folding across your chest.

“Of course he did, Y/n, he feels like shit for breaking up with you, I know he regrets it. Rooster said his flying’s been off the past couple days, says he’s been extra dangerous, whatever that means.”

“Shit,” you panicked at the thought of him burning in, “yeah I need to talk to him”

“I’ll call him then, let him know to come by?” Gabby asked, waiting for you to decide where you wanted to meet him.

“I think I’ll just walk to his place,” you said mindlessly.

“Babe that's like a mile from here, why would you do that?”

“Give myself time to think of what to say? Time to abort the mission?” You sighed, leaving the bathroom to begin your pilgrimage to Jake’s.

“Alright, well, let me know if you need us to pick you up. I love you!”

“Love you too, wish me luck,” you yelled from the stairwell before departing.

—

Hovering your fist over Jake’s door, reality finally hit and anxiety flooded your body as you contemplated what the hell you were doing at Jake’s door three days before he deployed.

“Y/n what the fuck?” You whispered, fist returning to your side as you promptly marched down his driveway, praying he hadn’t noticed you there.

He had.

“Y/n?” A groggy voice muttered from behind you, the Texan drawl of the man you loved barely identifiable over your own whispers. Stopping dead in your tracks, the anxiety bubbled up once again and this time threatened tears from your eyes. With a deep breath you turned around to see him.

Jake stood shirtless in his doorway, grey sweatpants clinging to his hips, his hair spiked and disheveled. The home behind him was dark, no blinds open to let in the midday sun of San Diego, and likely no ventilation for the better part of the last couple days. His eyes blinked rapidly as he adjusted to the light, the hand not clasping the doorknob shielding his green orbs as he trailed up your figure.

“Hey,” you croaked, tears beginning to slowly track your cheekbones. You didn’t move at all, you stood static on his driveway, arms crossed in front of you in a shallow attempt to comfort yourself.

“Come in baby,” he said groggily, breaking your heart to hear him call you such a loving nickname in such a tender way. The tears grew more frequent as you shook your head and walked towards him, arms still crossed until you reached the doorway and stood mere inches from him.

He was impossible to read, but the one emotion you could identify was sympathy. Even Hangman, the hard-to-crack fighter pilot with confirmed kills, couldn’t stand to watch the woman who owned his heart stand in front of him shaking with sadness that he caused. You reached up to wipe away your tears, closing your eyes briefly, and just then you felt his strong arms around you. Jake pulled you close, nuzzling his face into your neck and stroking your back with his strong hands.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n, I’m so sorry baby,” he whispered into your hair. You cried harder, eliciting a grunt and sigh from him as the consequences of his actions finally caught up with his emotions.

“The things I said to you were-” he lifted up his head and stared upwards, searching for words, you remained nestled into his chest as you cried, “they were appalling. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything after Rooster told me you were here, I should have tried to see you. I just didn’t know what you’d want…”

“Jake-” you cut him off, peeling yourself off his bare chest to gaze into his eyes which were now also brimming with tears, “we need to talk about this stuff”

He nodded. You needed answers, he needed reassurance, talking was the only thing you could do. He let go of you and welcomed you into the house. Just as you had expected, he hadn’t opened a single window in the whole home, the air stagnant and dark, and the smell of dirty dishes beginning to creep through the building. You walked over to his couch, sitting down on the warm fabric that had obviously been the host of his body for the past couple days. He sat next to you, knees barely grazing yours as you sat in silence for a brief moment.

“Jake, do you remember what you told me on the beach at the beginning of the summer?”

“That I loved you?”

The past tense stung.“No, the part about you burning in, about what Phoenix was saying about you being safer…”

“Oh,” he glanced downwards, “yeah I do”

“Jake, you told me that you were flying safe because you were scared of losing me, that you were scared you’d miss out on our life, on our memories. You told me you wanted to see where we end up, and that our love motivated you to be a better pilot,” you fiddled with his fingers as you spoke, “and Rooster told me you haven’t been flying safe lately,” your throat choking up the more you thought of him being careless, “and I just don’t get why,” you finally sobbed.

The sound of your voice breaking finally brought Jake’s attention to you, concern and pity filling his eyes as he watched you struggle to explain yourself.

“I don’t get why you push me away. I don’t get why you tell me one thing and then do another. I don’t get why you put yourself in danger for no reason, why you put your career and your life on the line….to what? To prove some point?” Tears pooled on your cheeks while your eyes searched the room for some semblance of comfort. “The things you said when you broke up with me hurt, they hurt me to my core, but the thought of you throwing your life away out of spite hurts even more.”

Jake was speechless, his green eyes glassy under scrunched eyebrows as he finally felt the pain you had been enduring because of him.

“The life I want is the life I share with you. And I went into this relationship knowing distance and deployment and all that shit would be a factor. You did too. I’m prepared to go through anything for you…because I want those memories, Jake. I want to hold you and kiss you and dream of you while you’re gone. I want to move into your stupidly undecorated house on base when I graduate and be here for you every night when you come home,” you gestured to his bare walls, eliciting a small chuckle and nod from the hard-to-crack military man who had tears dropping from his eyes.

“God Jake the love I feel for you is endless. I gave you my heart, I gave you myself, don’t give those things back to me.” You stopped talking, the emotions overwhelming you to the point where you removed your hand from his and tucked your knees up in front of you, bundling yourself into a ball while Jake processed everything you said.

“I think…” he began, his eyes searching every part of the room except where you were, “I think we should take some time to think about all this,” he slowed down as he said the last few words.

Your tears dried up, shock overtaking the sadness. You didn’t expect this, you didn’t expect him to mean the things he said, to mean that he didn’t want to be with you.

“So you meant it?” You questioned, eyes finally meeting his.

“What?” He asked quietly

“You meant the things you said. The things about us? About me?”

“No, Y/n. I’m sorry for the things I said to you. They were hurtful and wrong and downright disrespectful. You’re a sweetheart and I’m sorry. I just mean I don’t think it's smart for us to jump into things right now, not with my deployment and your school.”

“What are you saying,” you cut him off.

“I think maybe we should just wait to date or something, til I’m back…”

“Jake,” your voice cracked, “I can’t do that,” you sobbed.

“You don’t think it's a good idea?” He asked earnestly.

“I’m gonna be waiting for you either way. I’d rather be waiting as your girlfriend than just some girl who's heartbroken and doesn’t even know if the man she loves loves her back.”

“You’re not some girl, Y/n, you’re my girl,” he rubbed your arm.

Shrugging him off as the confusion overwhelmed you, “no I’m not Jake. You broke up with me, you told me we should wait. Those don’t exactly go hand in hand with being ‘your girl,” you stood up to leave, he stared at you bewildered, “I’m leaving. You need to make up your mind, I’m tired of being confused about how you feel about me.”

You walked through the dark house to his door, opening it and letting the harsh California light hit the living room where he still sat on the couch, eyes never leaving your frame.

“Good luck on your deployment, Jake,” and with that you took one last look at him and left the house, closing the door behind him. As you walked away, you held out for the possibility that he would open the door and come running out with an apology. But he didn’t. You walked the whole way back to Gabby’s without a word…without an ounce of clarity…just confusion like you had never felt before.

—

The remainder of the weekend went by without a word from Jake. Occasional glances from Rooster after he got a text or got off the phone let you know that, per usual, you were the only person out of the loop when it came to your relationship issues. Nevertheless, going through this breakup without Gabby would have been impossible, and her support meant the world to you.

Monday came around and it was time for the pilots to leave. The debate of whether or not to go had lived in the back of your mind for the better part of the weekend, eating away at you when you tried to close your eyes. Ultimately, after lots and lots of thinking, you had decided not to go for multiple reasons. For one, it gave Gabby and Rooster time alone during a special moment…and it also gave you the upper hand over Hangman. Despite what he told you, you knew Jake, and you knew he’d expect you to be there to wave him off.

“You sure you don’t want to come, honey?” Rooster asked you as he walked by the couch where you reclined in their living room, dressed in his flight suit.

“Yeah I’m sure,” you sighed, sitting up to face him. “I know he’s gonna expect me to be there. And I want to be there for him…but I can’t let myself keep getting hurt. I can’t let him know that he can keep hurting me and I’ll come crawling back…”

“You know, as much as I love Jake, and as long as I’ve known him,” Rooster began, “I think you’re doing the right thing. You’re showing him you’re prioritizing yourself, which is important. He’s an asshole, he needs to be put in his place.”

“He is an asshole isn’t he,” you and Rooster laughed together.

“Alright honey,” Rooster ruffled your hair, the nickname he always called you by making you smile, “I’m outta here. I’ll keep my lips sealed to Jake for a bit, but you know how to reach me if you want me to tell him anything, okay?”

He grabbed his bags, “or if you just want to chat, I’d like that too.”

“Bradley!” Gabby’s piercing voice ran out from upstairs, “we’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry the fuck up!”

“Down here, baby!” He yelled back.

Gabby came running downstairs, “You’re ready before me?” She asked out of breath.

“Yeah?” Rooster said sassily, “why are you so shocked by that?”

You giggled at the couple, making Gabby sneer at you.

“Don’t you dare laugh with him,” she pointed at you, making you and Rooster laugh harder. She sighed before walking down and embracing her husband.

“You can’t wear this flight suit in the home, Brashdaw, otherwise you’ll be late to everything…” she flirted before kissing him, his hands gripping her hips.

“I love you, Gabby,” he kissed her again.

“Y'all are gonna make me throw up, go get on a boat or something Roo,” you pretended to gag as you got up from the couch.

“Bye Y/n,” Rooster said, letting go of Gabby briefly to give you a hug and kiss on the forehead, “don’t be a stranger”

“Back at ya.” you gave him a smile, “don’t like die or anything….Gabby would kill you”

Your friend laughed, giving you a brief nudge before opening the front door for Rooster. She shot you a quick wink before closing the door behind her, the sound of the bronco starting not long after.

And with that, you sat back down on the couch, left with your own thoughts and the slightest feeling of regret and worry beginning…what if you never got to say goodbye?

Taglist: @dempy @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mightiestheroes @taytaylala12 @djs8891 @clancycucumber230

#jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun fic #top gun hangman #top gun #top gun maverick #hangman x reader

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mysticalcrypt · 9 months

Note

hello

not sure if you're already taking requests, but if so can i request something about kit walker being in briarcliff please?

thank you :)

𝑳𝑨𝑪𝑲 𝑶𝑭 𝑯𝑶𝑷𝑬 - 𝑲𝑰𝑻𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑾𝑨𝑳𝑲𝑬𝑹

"I don’t know how much more of this I can take..”

(swearing, asylum stuff and mention of the mentally ill.)

LOW USE OF THE WORD “Y/N”

•••

Kit sat in his cell with his face down, thinking of how he was ever going to be able to leave this asylum. He was starting to lose that positive mind set of his, but who could blame him? Imagine staying in asylum for weeks, having unnecessary surgeries and constant beatings. Anyone would be pessimistic.

Then he started to think about his wife, Alma, he wanted to believe she was still alive but it was clear as day that she wasn’t, based off of what he remembered about that night. It was still all a blur to him and unbelievable. So far, since he’s been in here, he’s made a few friends. The one that really was on his mind was Y/n, he often thought about her a lot.

They both stuck together, they’ve tried finding ways to leave and aided each other when it was needed it. After while, he caught feelings for her but he wasn’t sure if she felt the same way. Knowing that he had a person in here who would care for him and help him was reassuring, at least there was some comfort.

But she hasn’t been doing well, either. She was depressed, her anxiety was through the roof and she also felt like she wasn’t gonna make it out alive. But if she did, this experience would haunt and traumatize her forever, Kit too. It honestly was hell for everyone.

Kit’s hand slowly grazed over the scar on his wrist, those cuffs, he thought to himself. They made sure to put those cuffs on him tight, and when it’s happening everyday, you’re bound to have a few scars on your arms. Plus, Kit was constantly being taken to Dr.Arden’s room for whatever sick experiments Arden wanted to perform on him.

And Y/n...well, just say, she was getting her fair share of pain and suffering, too. She's had to go through things that would give a person nightmares. Kit sighed and looked up. "Why?" He said to himself. He knew that no one was going to answer his question, but he always asked anyway.

He laid down and thought about the times when he was happy, the times when he was free. It’s a shame that now he could only think about the past and not the future, it was the only thing that made him feel happy.

He heard footsteps coming closer to him, but it was more to the cell next to him, he wasn't sure if it was the warden or doctor but he was pretty sure that it was neither. Then he heard a female voice, it sounded like Y/n, he wasn't sure, though. He then heard the sound of the cell door closing, it sounded like someone got locked in.

He decided to call out, just to make sure it was her.

"Y/n?" He called.

"Yeah?” She said, tiredly.

"I…I just wanted to make sure you're alright." He replied, feeling a sense of relief now that he knew that she was okay.

"I'm fine, I guess, considering the fact that I’m in a place like this." She replied. “How are you? You don't sound good."

"I'm okay, I just..I don’t know what to do anymore. I mean, we haven't found a way out of here and I've been through so much and, I just feel hopeless. Like there's no reason for me to keep on trying. What's the point if we never find a way out?”

"I've had that same thought, Kit, and I think the same thing, but we can't lose hope. I know that this place is full of nothing but pain and torture, but we need to keep on hoping that there is a way out. We need to have a reason to keep on trying." She reassured.

"I want to believe that, but I'm not so sure anymore. It seems like we’re not getting out of here."

"Don't say that, Kit. There's no need for you to have a negative mind set, because you're never gonna get anywhere by thinking like that. Remember when I lost faith and you told me that we can't give up and I believed you, but now you're giving up. We've come too far to turn back now. We've been here for a long time, so let's just keep our head held high and we'll get through this. Together."

"What if I don't get out alive? What if something happens and I can't get out?"

"There’s always a risk..but there’s a chance that we could get out. Just don't let it consume you, don't give up hope."

"I can't do this." He said, his voice starting to crack.

"Yes, you can, Kit. You've been through so much in your life, why give up now?"

"Because, I feel like there's no reason for me to stay strong. Everyone thinks I’m just some murderer who can't feel any emotion."

"Kit, listen to me.” She said.

Kit stayed silent, waiting for her to speak again.

"You are not a murderer. I don’t believe you killed those women, it all just doesn’t make sense. You're a good person and I don't believe you did it. And no matter what anyone says, that's what I'll always believe. Because you're a kind-hearted man, you're not a murderer. Don't let their words get to you."

Kit stayed silent, trying to take in her words, trying to believe what she was saying.

"Thank you." He said. "For sticking up for me, you've been so supportive and kind, I don't know where I'd be without you."

"You helped me, Kit. You're a good person, and I want to see you out of here."

He smiled, even though she couldn't see it. He felt a bit better, knowing that there's still hope. “Will you please just..try for me, Kit? Try not to give up. It's hard for me, too, but we need to stick together, I'll be here for you, always."

"I promise." He replied. “I’ll try.”

•••

sorry if it’s not what you expected, wasn’t sure what to put.

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dialovers-translations · 1 year

Text

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Kou Dark [Epilogue]

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

ー The scene starts in the dungeon of the Sakamaki Castle

Kou: ( Kino-kun is down here, isn’t he? )

( I volunteered to bring him his food because I have plenty of questions for him but. )

( I’m not sure what to do since Subaru-kun already warned me earlier... )

ー A flashback ensues

Kou: Hey, Subaru-kun. I’ll bring him his meal.

Subaru: ...Be my guest. But don’t you dare say somethin’ stupid.

Kou: Yeah, yeah. I know!

ー The flashback ends

Kou: Haah...

( Well, I’m sure it’ll work out somehow. I honestly doubt Kino-kun will give me an honest answer anyway. )

( Or rather, I better do something about this whole situation with Kino-kun soon, or else I won’t be able to bring up the situation over at Eden... )

( At this rate, I’ll be stuck here forever. )

*Rustle*

Kou: Here, a snack.

I know you don’t need food to survive, but I suppose it’ll provide somewhat of a distraction?

Kino: ...

Kou: ...Oh well, whatever. I won’t force you to eat.

Say, about what you said earlierーー

Kino: ーー I bet you won’t believe me either.

Kou: Oh...I don’t think all of it is a lie.

I’d recognize that look in your eyes anywhere.

The children living in manholes or out on the streets had that same look in their eyes. I did as well at some point...

Kino: Aah, now that you mention it, you did. However, since you use the past tense, you’re aware that things have changed now?

Is it because that man adopted you?

Kou: Geezー This is seriously scary. Just how much did you look into my past...?

Kino: I know everything about the four of you. Like how he showed compassion towards you poor little things despite not being related.

Ahーah. If only he had come and got me - his actual son - as well while he was out there picking up random children from the streets.

Kou: ...About that.

Are you really Karlheinz-sama’s child?

Kino: ...

*WOOSH*

Kou: ( ...He destroyed the bars with one hit!? )

Kino: I believe these powers should answer your question? I mean, take it as you like.

...Pwaah...That’s all I have to say. Goodnight.

*Rustle*

Kou: Wait...You’re not going to escape!? But you just destroyed the cell...

Kino: I mean, I have no reason to leave. This sort of environment is more like what I’m used to anyway...Pwaah...

Kou: ...

ー Kou leaves the dungeon as the scene shifts to the entrance hall

Kou: ( That sort of environment is more like what he’s used to, huh...? )

( I wonder just how bad he’s had it? )

ー Kou runs into Subaru

Kou: Ah...

Subaru: I don’t know what he told you, but don’t trust that guy.

Kou: ...

Subaru: He’s tryin’ to evoke sympathy from us in an attempt to get close, only so he can make his move afterwards.

Kou: Haah? What do you mean by ‘his move’? Are you implying that he’s hoping to steal your powers?

Subaru: W-Well...

Kou: You look like an idiot trying to call him out when you’re the one who hasn’t been fulfilling your duties as a King at all.

I mean, you don’t even want those powers, do you?

Then wouldn’t it just be better to give them to Kino-kun instead!?

I believe those powers would be put to much better use that way!

Subaru: ...You bastard!!

ー Subaru grabs hold of Kou’s collar

*Rustle*

Reiji: ーー Cut it out! It is painful watching you two.

Kou: Oh...

Subaru: Che...

*Rustle*

Reiji: Kou. There is something I must inform you of.

...About Azusa and that girl.

Kou: Did something happen to them!?

Reiji: I received word from our Familiar just now.

But it would seem that both of them have been taken captive by the Vibora while they were out in the forest.

Kou: ( Why? What’s going on? Weren’t they at Eden...!? )

*Flap flap flap*

Kou: Eh...? Ruki-kun’s familiar...?

Monologue

The message inside the letter,

which I received from the Familiar,

made me hold my breath.

ーー After hearing that the Vampire in question,

had invaded the Sakamaki Castle,

Azusa-kun and Yui,

were now headed towards me.

That was the information written in there.

Kou: ( Could they be referring to Kino-kun...? )

Oh no...It’s my fault...!

I have to go save them! At this rate, both of them willーー

ー Subaru stops him

*Rustle*

Subaru: ーー Wait. If you go and they get the upper hand on you, you’ll only be in deeper shit.

Kou: Who says that will happen!? Don’t make assumptions!

Subaru: Nah, I know you won’t be able to pull it off. Not when you’re as powerless as you are.

Kou: ...Ah...

( I’m powerless...I mean, he’s not wrong but... )

Subaru: I’ll go save them. You wait here, ‘kay?

Kou: ...That’s just...!

Reiji: ...Calm down. I shall not allow for any reckless actions to be taken.

For one, even if she has been captured by the Vibora, I cannot imagine they would harm her in any way.

We should first establish all the facts and if we decide to go rescue them, we must do so with a proper plan.

Subaru: Che, don’t get in the way!

Kou: Exactly! How can you be so sure that they won’t do anything to her!?

???: Ahaha. Just like Reiji said, it’ll be fine.

Not only does he possess the heart of the daughter of the Demon Overlord, but she’s the Eve of the Demon World, chosen directly by none other than Karlheinz himself.

I doubt they’re as stupid as to take any risks with such an important pawn?

Subaru: You bastard, how did you get out!?

Kino: Hm? Kou let me out earlier!

Kou: Wait...I didn’t open the door for you directly.

Or rather, we have to focus on saving M-neko-chan and Azusa-kun now instead of being distracted by Kino-kun!

If Kino-kun and Reiji-kun are right, then things might still be okay for now.

But if they don’t realize that she’s Eve, they might just kill her, no!?

( Besides, Azusa-kun is a Vampire. They have no reason to keep him alive. Who knows if he’s still safe... )

Reiji: ...I suppose we have no other choice. Subaru, you go and write a letter to the Vibora King.

Subaru: Haah!? You really think I’m gonna waste my time on that shit!?

Reiji: Remember your own position. You are the Vampire King right now, are you not?

If you were to step out there and start a fight, it would only fuel a conflict even more.

It is possible that you will not be able to get them back, when they would have otherwise obliged with little resistance.

Subaru: But...

Reiji: Subaru.

Subaru: ...Fine. But Reiji, you write this letter, okay?

Reiji: Yes. After all, I doubt the other party will be able to decipher a letter written in a way which makes you suspect it comes from someone who never learnt how to write.

Subaru: Che, don’t make fun of me!

Kou: ...

Monologue

While watching their conversation,

I was confronted with an overwhelming sense of inferiority,

as well as the reality,

that I am really nothing but an outsider in this whole ordeal.

It should actually be me,

who goes to rescue Yui.

ーー However,

knowing that there is nothing I can do,

is incredibly frustrating.

Even though I told myself many times,

that I would no longer hesitate.

However, when actually confronted,

with the fact that I am unable to do anything,

I lose all confidence.

Even more so,

when the girl I treasure more than anything is involved...

At some point, I decided to turn around,

and step away from them.

To get rid of this hesitation.

As well as to avoid being confronted with my powerlessness.

*Rustle*

Kino: Hey, I’m sure you’d love to have them as well, don’t you? Subaru’s powers.

*Thud*

Kou: ーー I don’t want those powers! I don’t need them!

I’ll prove that I can rescue M-neko-chan, even without them!

( ...However, if those are necessary to protect her, then...ーー )

Kino: Just be honest with yourself already.

We’re sort of simliar, don’t you think? I can relate to how you feel very well.

Kou: ーー ! Don’t group us together!!

Even if I believe that you were a foundling.

Those powers you showed me earlier aren’t enough for me to believe that you’re actually that man’s illegitimate child!

Or rather, I don’t!

Kino: Still, I know he picked you off the streets and all, but I believe you might be idolizing him a little too much.

I believe you should think really hard whether it’s truly worth it to be so ridiculously devoted to him, you see.

Kou: ...Ugh...

ー The scene shifts to the dungeon at the Vibora’s Castle

Azusa: Eve...Are you alright...?

Yui: Yeah. I’m sorry, Azusa-kun...

( I would have never thought we’d get captured by the Vibora on our way to go see Kou-kun... )

( I wonder what the Vibora intend to do with us? )

*Clunk*

Vibora A: Zweig-sama wants to see you. ーー Come with me.

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyaah!?

ー Azusa tries to stop them.

Azusa: You can’t! Don’t take Eve away...!

Vibora A: Che...Back off! We don’t need anything from you!

*THUD*

Azusa: ーー Uguh!

ー Azusa collapses

Yui: Azusa-kun!!

Azusa: Eve...Run...

Vibora A: Hmph! You noisy Vampire trash!

*THUD*

Azusa: Guh...!

Yui: No more violence! I’ll do as you say, promised!

Azusa: ...You can’t...

Yui: Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.

Please show me the way. To Zweig-san...

ー Yui heads to the saloon with the guard

Zweig: ...

Yui: ( ...So this man is the Vibora King, Zweig-san... )

Zweig: ...Oi, take off her handcuffs.

Vibora A: Hah. Roger.

*Rustle*

Yui: Eh...?

( Why are they freeing me? )

ー Zweig approaches her

Yui: ーー Ugh...

Zweig: Fufu, no need to be scared.

ーー You are Eve. The bride of the Demon World, correct?

Monologue

The Vibora King, Zweig-san,

politely vowed to me,

that they would treat me with care and respect.

Apparently they had brought me to their castle,

because the former owner of my heart, Cordelia-san,

was the daughter of the Demon Overlord Burai,

a fellow Vibora.

While I was completely caught off guard,

by what Zweig-san had told me,

I also realized that I could potentially use this to my advantage.

Thenーー

When I asked him whether or not he was up to date on the situation at the Sakamaki Castle,

he simply shrugged his shoulders,

before speaking up.

While it does indeed seem,

that the Castle has been invaded by an unknown individual,

he did in fact receive a letter from them,

so they are most likely not in immediate danger...he told me.

The piece of paper he held in his hand,

was a letter from Subaru-kun,

the Vampire King.

Out of nowhere, all strength left my body,

as I crouched down.

Yui: ...Then, Kou-kun should be safe as well, right...?

Zweig: I cannot say for certain as nothing about him is written in here.

Yui: I see.

( If Subaru-kun is still capable of writing a letter then I can assume that Vampire who attacked their manor has not done anything yet, right? )

( In which case, I do believe that he is safe... )

( Still, I’m worried. I wonder if he’s harmed in some way? )

Zweig: ...What a sinful man that Vampire must be, to have captured your heart to such a degree.

Yui: ...You think so?

( Seems like Zweig-san is giving me a special treatment because of my heart... )

( However, I can’t simply stay here. )

( I have to set Azusa-kun free so we can both escape this place... )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #kou mukami #lost eden #diabolik lovers translation #lekoudarkepilog

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yuukei-yikes · 1 year

Note

This might be a little weird, but in the light novels (i think it was the 8th or 7th) where takane becomes ene and leaves hibiya, ene tells hibiya that he reminds her of "him way back when" and then hibiya thinks she just compared him to shintaro but he doesnt think it makes sense. When i read that i always thought it was haruka especially because ene says something like "youre just smart enough to keep hanging around but youre always worrying about the future" part. Like shintaro (as far as im concerned) never really cared about the future, and i think that haruka cared about the future tbh. Any way everyone says that ene was ACTUALLY comparing hibiya to shintaro and no one made the connection that I made. Please dont tell me i am the only one in this fandom who thought that ene was comparing hibiya to haruka!!

(Also sorry if this makes 0 grammatical sense i just need your oppinion on this)

THE FONT AGAIN!!!

also damn that's actually really interesting!!!! hmm i don't think i agree but i really read this and i was like damn this is a good one like this is a good idea and interpretation...

personally, i do think she means shintaro. i do think shintaro worries abt the future! i can think of the moment where he thinks of his dad and wonders how must he feel abt him if he made it out of the daze and sees his son as this deadbeat shut in. i know that's not super specific on the future, but it's like... shintaro's whole "18, virgin, unemployed" thing to me is him worrying abt the future in a way.

even if in the novels sometimes it writes out like he considers these things indispensable parts of his character (in my reread i was so annoyed in his povs i was like god. shintaro we KNOW youre a virgin STOP MENTIONING IT), i think they're there to point out how he's so stuck in the past he cannot move forward and in a way THAT IS worrying abt the future!! he's... alive. and his life isnt going anywhere, he isnt going anywhere. he IS suicidal but by the time ene gets to him shintaro is more or less more easy going if that makes sense?? thats why im so crazy abt shintaro and ene lol like he really went out on august 15 and tells ene, yeah we can go to the amusement park. its not like im ever going out again anyway. and it's like... by this point he isnt even gonna kill himself. he fully intended to live inside his room with ene forever. idk. shintaro stressing over how much of a loser he is and how he's not doing anything with his life is him worrying over the future kind of. or rather the passage of time.

it's kind of like he sees the ridiculousness of his situation. to me, shintaro's insistence on mentioning he is 18 and unemployed is him frustrated with himself and his stagnancy. like... god. next its 19 virgin and unemployed. then its 20 virgin and unemployed. and so on. to me shintaro does worry abt the future in the way the years go by and he's desperately trying to lock himself away from it?? idk.

while haruka had NO future to look forward to. haruka's problem isnt that he was worried of the future, he was depressed he didn't have one. he desperately wanted a future, he didnt worry abt what he was gonna do with it like shintaro and hibiya in this case. idk. that's my interpretation anyway and even if it's different from yours i LOVE yours, its definitely super interesting and i definitely love asks like these!!! like u rly got me thinking!!

#ask tag #kagenalysis

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daburuwosagase · 1 year

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Guess I'll do a year review for the heck of it.

2022 sucked badly for me and for many loved ones (you know who you are). It's been very trying from start to finish. A lot of my coping mechanisms just did not work. There is no silver lining in losing family and friends. There were so many awful circumstances popping up without rest that left me feeling powerless. Dates are arbitrary, but I have been looking forward to the end of the year since March.

In the coming year, I want to get off the internet and go outside, get a job in the field I'm actually trained for, focus on one-on-one relationships, whatever else will make me feel like I'm progressing with my life. I've been very thankful to have physical stability all this year and last. But it's time to get back up.

Recounting all the awful stuff would just be a downer, so I'll list off the positives:

Graduated after six years! Got oodles of qualifications! Sure would be nice if an employer took notice! I worked my butt off to actually get good grades in the last semester and boost my GPA over that 3.5 threshold. I think I'd have been really frustrated if I had ended up at 3.49. So I'm proud of myself for pouring effort into my own future for once.

(Technically) finished up the biggest translation project I've ever done. I'm not taking on that much unpaid solo work ever again. But wow, I think I deserve street cred forever for that one.

Got foot surgery after four years! Now that I'm *literally* back on my feet, it's...

...actually, I'm gonna derail this post and talk candidly about that. I just did my exercises for the night and my legs are feeling great. I bounced up the stairs with a spring in my step earlier today, and moderately quickly at that. I've been able to go on walks around the neighborhood and still have strength after getting back home. I can just STAND. Back in the summer, I couldn't even stand around normally without some pain.

I'm frustrated with myself for not getting help earlier, for always thinking "yeah it was pretty bad last week but it's feeling better, so no need to call the doctor, right?", for taking so long to progress to surgery even when I finally DID see a doctor. It shouldn't have taken four goddamn years when, according to what I'm reading, surgery can be considered after six months for what I had.

If you're reading this right now and you experience chronic pain: please schedule an appointment. Don't wait for the next flareup.

Anyway, it got so bad that I just couldn't walk. The pain wasn't like constantly walking on spikes — it only felt like that for brief moments here and there, as if that's much better. But it WAS constant, and eventually would hurt even when sitting down. And I was wondering if I was going to be stuck in pain for the rest of my life, not able to go anywhere, not able to do anything about it. And I *did* give up on going outside and standing in the kitchen long enough to make a meal.

When the doctor explained surgery as an option to me, it sounded too good to be true. Nothing else had worked, yet this method was supposed to be a total cure? She made it sound pretty damn perfect though. So I scheduled a date, put my life on hold for two months, and actually started to feel hopeful. Only a month left of grinning and bearing it, only a few weeks, a few days...

...and like I thought, something just HAD to go wrong. Just like every other thing this year. One stupid false positive test and eeeverything got rescheduled, and the month-long timer got reset, and I was heartbroken. It hurt so much and I was so scared that it'd happen again.

But as you know, I *did* get the surgery. I was insanely anxious in those last three days beforehand, but by god, afterward, there was NO pain in the places where it'd been constant before. Sure, I could only crawl for two weeks, and I'm still relearning how to walk properly, but holy crap! I can move around! I can stand around aimlessly and it doesn't hurt! I could probably run, though I haven't tried! I managed to walk around for two hours on uneven ground last month and see the sights of a nearby national park, and it was beautiful and unbelievably peaceful and it's a memory I'll treasure for life. We're planning to revisit the same place next month, and while I know it won't be the same as that perfect first time, I'm still so excited for it. I can plan in advance again! I have things to look forward to again! All of this seemed impossible a few months ago!

I'm still holding my breath a little because this year has just burned me over and over again. But the groundwork has been laid for things to get better.

#personal #cw: medical #oops! turned into a different post halfway

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culminada · 2 months

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I'm asexual! but I barely experience acephobia because my other three alienating traits are like shields that protect me from it 🙃unfortunately I do experience the -phobias people have of the other three things so. yaaay my ability to make friends? not to mention romance? ugh.

first up is that I'm multicultural and belong to a cultural minority. I'm not going to talk about it a whole lot because it's very confusing! so I just call it my culture of origin! and they're not online at all. like we/they (??) barely believe in the tech things. definitely they're not on tumblr. so I'm not looking for them here. just talking about how being multicultural has affected me socially. Mostly it obstructs my social life from my end, by getting in the way of me feeling like I have anything in common with people. I'll only really accept a romantic partner from my culture of origin, so that excludes 99.999% of people I'll meet on the street from discussion of my sexuality lol.

Second up! The autism! Nobody ever tried to make friends with me (or responded when I tried to) and I have no clue if its because of the 'tism or the red blotches on my face from the dermatillomania. I might lean more towards the autism but I'm still skeptical of that, also I'm 'culminada' (CULtural MINority, Autism, Dermatillomania and Asexuality) so, autism it is :) I had to practice for YEARS before I got the hang of interacting with people I didn't know well. Small talk? What's that? WHY? I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it. Nobody sticks around anyway. (The one time somebody approached me independently while I was writing in my notebook and I stared at my notebook while trying to think what to say. so they walked off. utter joy.) The progression from 'stranger' to 'acquaintance' to 'friend' and so on is also something I've had to learn. I've had to claw my way up the 'relationship ladder' which, sadly, does exist whether one is on the friendship ladder or the romantic ladder. I have yet to progress anywhere on the romantic ladder with ANYONE so. yayyyyy

Dermatillomania, the incessant picking of my own skin! Like I said, red blotchy face isn't very attractive. Sometimes I'll be bleeding and not notice. yaaaaay. Finding a romantic partner is going to be. yknow. a breeze. a walk in the park. as easy as breathing. not to MENTION. the sheer TIME it takes out of my DAY. how am I supposed to learn the wifely skills of my culture when I?? lose HOURS to dermatillomania and executive dysfunction? (they have a feedback loop on each other. I get Stuck in my day for whatever executively dysfunctional reason! oh now I start picking, bc of course. OH DEARY NOW I CAN'T SWITCH TASKS, GUESS I'LL STAY HERE FOREVER. DESTROYING MY SKIN.)

So yeah, by the time somebody infiltrates the layers of visual disgust, autistic communication barriers, and cultural differences, they're pretty well screened against something as simple and boring as acephobia. You don't get close to me without being VERY accepting of differences. (or just. yknow. capable of critical thinking and the awareness that people are different lolz.)

(I also tended to be that twelve-year-old who sighed wistfully and said I can't wait to get married, I want to get married ASAP, you know historically people got married at like. 14 right? and so everybody around me was always going OH DEARY YOU SHOULD ABSOLUTELY WAIT... LIKE SIX MORE YEARS IF NOT LONGER which I'm sure my fellow asexuals would have loved to hear, but my alloromantic brain was Very Unhappy about. it has now been 6+ or more years, for the record,)

anyway that's me. I got tired of repressing my aceposting and autism-posting and so on, bc my other blog is a fandom fic blog. btw go check out @skaald-of-the-hearth-fires that's the fifth, unofficial reason I feel alienated. (actually that falls under the autism heading, nevermind) my culture barely does video games. nobody in regular old boring American culture plays my special interest video game either. I find this quite distressing when people ask what I do and I say oh!! I'm a writer! I write fanfic for Guild Wars 2!! oh you haven't heard of that. ok. I'm so normal about that. so I've written the fic to be quite understandable to non-gamers, fandom-blind readers, and brainrotted fans alike :)

#asexual #alloromantic #alloace #dermatillomania #culture of origin/cultural minority #<- I have no name for it. it's not a racial or ethnic culture it just IS. no I will not describe it. it's my culture of origin #I might call it tree-culture or smth. after my icon which is from that culture. (yes its vv basic. did I mention they dislike tech?)#I also just love trees so I sorta pounced on that logo. I'm a tree-person. fr fr.#also if you didn't catch: YES I tell IRL people I just met that I write fanfic #supposedly I'm trying to destigmatize it but -gestures at the rest of the post- I have. MANY things to destigmatize #that goes into the multicultural thing ad;lkja;dlsfkj so I'll leave off here #back to my original point though: it looks like nobody is using the 'culture of origin' tag so I'll.#I'll take that thanks

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workofheart · 3 years

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extra help | gojo satoru

what’s a teacher to do when his student is building up so much cursed energy? help her get it under control, of course.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

wc: 4.7k

warnings: smut, 18+ (minors dni), teacher/student relations (reader is of age), fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, sir kink, unprotected sex (do not do this), lowkey corruption, squirting, exhibitionism (?), creampie, gojo refers to himself as “teacher” because i said so

note: barely edited, something to ease the brainrot. gojo satoru hollow me challenge.

“Can you maybe, I don’t know, shut the fuck up?”

The jab spews out of your mouth before you can stop it. Your filter is long gone, the thoughts that pop into your head forming into verbal words without the chance to even process them. Once you hear it, you mentally slap yourself. Now you just look like an asshole.

“Jeez, no need to be a bitch about it,” mutters Nobara. She rests on the concrete steps on her elbows, appearing utterly disinterested with her head tossed back and eyes closed, soaking in the fresh air.

“I’m not being a bitch.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m not!”

“You kind of are,” Megumi says quietly, shrugging slightly when your incredulous expression finds his to be stoic and unmoving. He leans down to scratch behind one of his dog’s ears. His nonchalance boils your blood even further, effectively working you up past your melting point. A bitter laugh leaves your mouth.

“...You motherfucker-”

“Good morning, everybody!”

You sigh, lips hanging open with the rest of your insult frozen where it was interrupted. From over the small hill behind you, Gojo Satoru greets everyone with a bright energy you aren’t capable of returning this early in the day.

You try your best to shake it off. The other students wave back happily as you sulk, aimlessly stretching your arms over your head in an attempt to push out the thousand things running through your mind, not one of which you’re capable of dealing with.

And maybe it is a good morning - the sun is out, the air is cool, there’s not a breeze passing by to mess up your hair. It’s a lovely day to be training. Megumi has been walking his dogs around the field, Yuuji has been racing himself from one end to the other, meanwhile the others take turns sparring. The springtime weather is rewarding, which is why it’s such a shame you can’t enjoy it.

Gojo reaches up a hand to lift one side of his blindfold. Though he’s standing all the way over on the steps, you can see his eyes clearly, crystalline blue and staring with scrutiny. The man leans forward into his gaze, and the way he’s inspecting you soon irritates you further.

“What’s with all the cursed energy?” he asks, letting his blindfold fall over his eye again.

Yuuji perks up at the comment from where he’s been sitting after his run, pulling out blades of grass between his fingertips. “So it’s not just me?” he pipes up, pushing himself up to his feet. He seems relieved, turning his attention to you. “I thought maybe you just had a bad day but it seems like it’s seeping off you all the time now.”

Your lips press into a thin line as your eyelids droop in annoyance, trying to think up a reasonable answer quick. Unfortunately, you don’t get the time to do so.

“I don’t need to see it to feel it,” Maki adds. She finishes tying up her laces, objectivity unmoving with the deadpan spreading across your features. Your jaw tenses. “Didn’t want to say anything in case it would make you angrier.”

“Too late!” you snap, huffing as you place your arms over your chest. The number of eyes on you has your cheeks burning, and paired with your current vexation, makes you feel even worse.

“Well, what are you angry about?” Yuuji asks.

“I’m not angry about anything.”

“That sounds a little defensive,” Gojo comments.

“You seem frustrated, that’s all.” Yuuji looks at you with a genuine curiosity that makes it hard to be mad at him. His doe eyes couldn’t possibly imagine what the real issue at hand is.

“Yeah, she’s frustrated all right,” Nobara juts in. Her tone is whiney and annoyed, and you hope the glare you send her will shut her up, but she acts as if she doesn’t see it, only looking down at her nails in distaste. Then comes the zinger. “It’s because she hasn’t gotten laid in months.”

“That is not true!” you yell, but the obvious rage bubbling out of you gives it away.

“Cursed energy can build from that?”

“It would explain a lot.”

“That sounds definitely defensive.”

“Shut up!” you shout, throwing your hands over your face to hide your cheeks burning in embarrassment. Then you’re sitting back on the field, hanging your head low over your knees. Quietly, you mutter, “You promised you wouldn’t say anything.”

☆☆☆

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

The walk here had been nerve wracking enough. Your heart had been stuck in your throat since the track this morning, if not from the sheer embarrassment of Nobara telling everyone you were sexually frustrated, then surely from the way Gojo had asked you to meet with him later in an old classroom rather seriously before walking off.

It scared you half to death upon hearing it, and just thinking about it scared the other half, so you’re hanging on by the thinnest of threads. The others comments hadn’t helped either, teasing about the frightening methods he’d use to dispel the energy, or how he’d berate you for being so stupid, or whatever else the maniac of a man had to offer.

Gojo leans back lazily in his chair, long legs thrown over the desk for his comfort and leisure. He stretches, letting out a satisfied groan with his arms straightened behind his head as you close the door behind you.

“About time you got here. Been waiting forever.”

The lights are off, but evening sun pours in through the wall of windows that look out over the courtyard to brighten the room. He tosses a small apple plush above him with a smooth flick of his wrist, catching it on its down arc with ease. It looks like a marble with how it sits in his massive palms.

“Well, this wing is on the other side of campus,” you swallow, fiddling with your fingers absentmindedly. That reminds you...“Why are we this far, anyway?”

He sighs, placing the toy back down at the top of his desk and resting his chin on his palm. You can feel his eyes on you through his blindfold. “To solve your problem, of course.”

“My… my problem? No, I don’t have any problems,” you say with a shake of your head as genuine as you can muster, a nervous smile flashing across your expression as he stands. His hand trails along the desk as he moves around it. When you get the feeling he doesn’t believe you, you start again, “If it’s about what Nobara said, it’s really no big deal-”

“While you’re a talented sorcerer, you’re not a very good liar.” He comes to a stop in front of you, towering over your small frame. His head is turned down toward you but you refrain from making eye contact. Trying to maintain your composure, you look straight into his chest and then avert your eyes to the sid, looking anywhere else in the room but him - the chalkboard, the windows, the posters on the wall - that is, until he takes your chin in his hand and tugs your face up to look at him directly.

He’s taken off his blindfold, the black cloth crumpled in his palm and already tossed to the floor.

The way you’re staring at him, that desire that lies just below the fear, has his dick tenting in his pants. When he focuses, he can see the cursed energy radiating from your body, dark and cloudy as it surrounds you. “Yuuji’s right, it’s practically seeping from you,” he coos, eyebrows drawn together in concern.

He drinks in your apprehension with a sadistic sort of delight, and you don’t miss the feel of his eyes as they trace down your body. “My student is struggling,” he says tenderly, tapping his index finger along your cheek lightly. “What kind of teacher would I be if I didn’t help?”

He eats up the way you look at him, swept away and hazy, your brain turning to mush at the sound of his voice. Heat pools in your panties, and the subtle manner in which your thighs shift against each other is not lost on him.

The tension in the air is electrifying. Leaning down to your ear, he says what’s been on his mind for weeks. “Don’t think I can’t hear you at night, touching yourself, trying so hard to make it go away on your own.”

His words leave your throat dry and stomach churning. Your face burns, thinking of him listening to your pitiful attempts to get off. Clearly, the sleepless nights of trying to cum, letting slip the small whimpers you couldn’t care to hold back, hands buried in your panties and writhing in your bed sheets, were no secret to anyone but you.

You’re almost mortified. You would be, if it wasn’t for your hot teacher standing in front of you, smiling as he remembers how pretty you sounded, offering to fuck the shit out of you to sate your frustration.

And god, just how pretty you sound. He’d never admit it sober, but the times he’s taken “random” late night walks around the buildings that have ended up at the outside of your bedroom door are far too many to count. Palming himself through his trousers, panting as he pictures you just through the slab of wood exactly how he plans on having you now.

“I...I don’t know if we should be doing this,” you mumble in a moment of clarity, gaze flickering to the window in the door that lets you see into the empty hallway just outside. Swallowing hard, scenarios of your classmates walking by, peering through, clouds your head. “What if someone…”

“They’re on the other side of campus, remember?” he teases. His fingers slide back along your jaw, brushing your hair from your forehead before settling to cup the side of your face. “You can make all the noise you want out here.”

Heat spreads through your core and inner thighs accompanied by a visible shiver, a pleased grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. The proximity alone is making you wet. His presence is overwhelming with the unimaginable power he holds over you.

His neck tilts down to reach you, hovering with his lips not a breath away from yours. Gojo waits. Tentative, you press your mouth to his and your eyes flutter shut, feeling him smile as his hands make contact with your hips. He’s gentle and slow, his lips pillowy and soft against yours, moving carefully as if not to scare you away.

He muffles a timid whimper with his mouth and takes the lead, kissing you harder and pulling you into a firm lip lock before spinning you around and walking you backwards toward the desk. Hesitant hands reach up to his shoulders, something Gojo senses immediately, shy hands working up the confidence to splay over his broad shoulders. He knows you so well by now - there’s a reason you’re his favorite student.

“Let me help, princess,” he insists, breaking away to quell your uncertainty. “You know I’m the only one who can.” Gojo’s voice is hypnotizing, his promises filling your head with a desiring haze.

Your tiny, timid fingers hanging around his neck, crawling up his nape as if searching for safety, have him reeling. He might just devour you, so cute and innocent and willing in front of him.

You’re melting into his touch as his hands squeeze your hips, rubbing up your sides until they lay a firm grasp on your hips, sitting you fully on the desk. His touch is teasing and featherlight as he drags it up your calves, hiking up your skirt to get where he wants to be, situated right between your thighs.

“None of the other guys fuck you the way you need to be fucked, right?”

He may be cocky, but it’s for good reason.

Gojo Satoru is older, he’s experienced, he knows what he’s doing. He knows you, in fact, more than you think. Don’t be fooled - he sees you sneaking off campus, sees the texts you send to the boys in the nearest town, overhears how you talk to them over the phone when you think no one is listening. He also sees how disappointed you look every time you return from one of your escapades.

You’re mature for your age, but no one is willing to fuck you like it. Except him, of course.

A large hand cradles the back of your head to keep kissing you. His mouth is ravishing, absolutely eating up the feeble mewls that escape you. Deft fingers unbutton your uniform with ease and slip it down your shoulders to reveal your chest as if he’s done it a thousand times.

He moves to unclasp your bra, but is surprised to meet your bare skin. He pulls back from your mouth to meet your eyes, and you already know what he’s thinking with the way he looks down at you, head tilted back with a dark mirth.

“No bra?” he inquires, rolling your perky buds between his fingers, and your lack of verbal response, that guilt in the slight raise of your eyebrows, tells him everything he needs to know. “Naughty girl. Makes me think you were expecting this.” He makes you purr like a kitten, free hand kneading at your chest, coaxing out sweet little noises that make his dick throb in his pants.

You inhale sharply at a particular tweak of your nipple that has your body tingling, arching into him. “Sir, I-”

His mouth is on your neck, sucking on that sensitive spot below your ear, just next to your jaw. The feel of his teeth gently scraping down sends chills through your shoulders and down your back, subconsciously tilting your head to the side and exposing more to him, inviting him to your body even further.

“It’s okay, you can tell me how bad you need my cock,” he says against your skin.

Your body flushes hot beneath him. A hand cups your clothed core. The friction has your hips lifting in desperate motions for more, pushing against his fingers for some kind of relief.

“Poor thing, too horny for your own good,” he says, peering down at you. He tugs at the tiny, delicate bow sewn into the lace band of your panties, a smug expression passing over his features. “But don’t worry, teacher’s here to make you feel better.”

He hooks his pointer finger underneath the center of your panties and pulls it up, forcing the fabric taught against your slit between your folds, urging a cry to fall from your lips. You’re absolutely aching for more, pussy desperate for contact as your hips buck. His opposite thumb goes straight to your swollen clit where it bulges through the thin cotton, reducing you to whines as he applies light pressure.

“So sensitive,” he says with a teasing lilt in his tone, caught between looking at your pussy and your dazed expression. “You want my fingers?”

He knows he’s supposed to be helping you, but he can’t stop himself with how cute you look like this. He’s already thinking of just how far he can push you, just what he can get you to admit to him.

“Yes, please,” you’re begging, pulling your lips under your teeth, and how can he say no? He has no other choice but to indulge you.

He pulls your panties to the side and finally, his long, thick fingers sink inside you without warning, pushing a lewd moan from your throat.

He groans at the way you pulse around his digits. Your walls suck him right in. “Fuck, look at your pretty little cunt. Feels good, huh?”

Your mouth falls open as you nod, staring at him through half-mast, glassy eyes. Light amusement covers his face as he works your walls diligently, curling up and massaging that spongy spot he knows you like from the sounds you’re making.

“Yeah, I know it does. Need it so bad, don’t you?”

“Yes, ah, need it so much,” you whine. At this point, you’d follow his every command, answer his every question, if it means he’ll keep doing what he’s doing. He connects his lips to yours again, swallowing up the noises that leave your throat, before moving down. He trails his mouth over your sensitive, flushed skin, burning to the touch as he leaves harsh, bruising marks behind. He’s kneeling down and throwing your legs over his shoulders without hesitation.

He has you desperate and shameless with how he’s making you feel. It doesn’t matter that he’s your teacher, it doesn’t matter that you’ll have to face him in class after the fact, all that matters is how hot and aching your core is, how bad you need him there to fix it. “More, sir, p-please.”

He groans at the name you’ve given him, that you’re addressing him by so earnestly. He never even asked you to, so when it spills out of your mouth so submissively, he can’t help the way it goes straight to his cock. “So polite, aren’t you? Let me hear you, be specific.”

His fingers leave you clenching around nothing as he pulls them out of you, watching the string of slick stretch until it breaks. He slips them right into his mouth, licking your arousal off of his fingers, humming in delight.

You’re fixated on his glossy, wet lips, entranced by the slight smile to his words. “Please, your mouth,” you plead breathlessly through a gulp.

He presses a chaste kiss to the plush of your thigh, eyes flicking up to meet yours. His lips ghost over the tops of your knee socks and nip at the slight pudge that squeezes out.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he murmurs. Then, he’s diving in, latching his warm, wet mouth onto your pussy. You feel yourself gush under his lips as his tongue laves harsh strokes against your entrance. He has you quivering, your hips moving on their own accord over his face.

You squirm under his relentless tongue, swiping through your slick and spreading it all over your inner thighs. He laps at your fluttering hole before suckling your clit into his mouth, hot tongue flicking over it before releasing with a playful pop.

He thrives off of the whimpers leaving your mouth. A loud moan tears from you as his fingers plunge into you again, hands shooting to his snowy locks to ground yourself. You’re throwing your head back, keening in the firm grip he has pushing back your leg, his tongue swiping at you expertly while the pads of his fingers curl up into the spot you need him at, keeping his head pressed tight to your drooling cunt.

Pointed flicks of his tongue target your clit, puffy and sensitive, and you can’t help the way your hips buck up for more, babbling nonsense. His firm muscle prods at your hole before flattening and licking wide and short strokes up your folds.

“Aw, you wanna cum, don’t you? Gonna cum for me like a good girl?”

You only have the strength to nod, eyes squeezing shut and your lips parted in choked breaths.

“Look at me,” he commands sternly, and your lids are prying open immediately, struggling to keep your gaze on him with the pleasure he’s relentlessly forcing on your body. His plump lips are lustrous with your arousal. “Go ahead. Cum.”

His eyes bore into you as your face contorts, body tensing all over as you tip over the edge. That coil in your stomach which Gojo has so masterfully built snaps like a rubber band, shattering your mind as pleasure ripples through your body. You’re still as your release surges through you, making him moan against your pussy.

“That’s it, there you go,” he says with a growl as you take your first breath after the inhibiting pleasure fades, eyes darkening as he watches you, keeping pressure on your nub with his thumb, smooth strokes working you through your high.

He carefully helps you drop to your feet, rubbing soothing circles into your hips, planting kisses to your temples before spinning you around to face the desk. You’re wobbly, but it’s nothing he can’t compensate for with his natural strength.

“Gonna take such good care of you,” he mumbles, large hands exploring the expanse of your back. He pushes you down, gentle fingers trailing up your spine until they find their hold on your hips like they were meant to be, loving how pliant you are beneath him.

The anticipation has you dripping, heart pounding as he flips up your skirt again, pussy aching to be filled. You hear the tugging of his trousers down to the floor, and a hefty exhale as he gives himself a few strokes in his palm.

His cock, hot and heavy and hard, presses into you slowly. You feel his girth immediately, cunt stretching deliciously to accommodate his size. It’s instant relief, finally the pleasure you’ve been desperate for, a drug you have to be careful of or you might just get addicted.

“Fuck,” he groans lowly, “So fuckin’ tight for me.”

You’re stuffed to the brim, focusing on how full you are, his fingers massaging the flesh of your ass as he gives you a moment to adjust. He feels his self-restraint thinning as you squeeze him. He’s gonna make you drool for him, make his cute innocent student into his little whore, make sure teacher’s the only one who touches you like this.

At first, his pace is slow and steady, sensual pumps that expertly drag against your gummy walls. You can feel his tip spreading you open, every burning curve and vein and ridge of his head as your pussy molds to him. But once your legs start shifting back for more, he speeds up the rocking of his hips, fucking you brainless on his cock.

“How we feeling, princess?” he pants. He’s the only thing you can think about, mind scrambled from the white hot feel of being fucked so well.

He doesn’t have to ask to know - the string of heedless whimpers that you make are evidence enough, on top of the obscene squelches that echo every time he pounds into your sopping cunt. He pulls your wrists back from where they cling to the desk, white knuckled, to your sides. A strong arm snakes around your front, pinning your arms and waist close to his chest, caging you in while the other seeks purchase on your breast.

“F-Fuck, I- ah - so good, sir,” you sob, feeling your brain blank with the way his grip moves up to your neck, expertly pushing into the sides to cut off your blood flow. It’s dizzying, your pussy tightening around him for more.

And then he stops.

You’re about to whine, your walls fluttering around him, begging him to move, when his hand reaches to cover your mouth. He shushes you gently, snapping quietly towards the door.

Someone is calling your name outside. “Hellooo? Hey Y/N, you over here?” It’s Yuuji, pacing the upper floor, walking straight down the hall and soon to pass the very door.

Your heart jolts in panic - why would he come looking for you? Why would anyone? The whole point of being out here was so that no one would come, right?

“Sorry to go back on my word, princess,” Gojo whispers. A wave of his hand creates a small masking barrier in front of the window, but it does nothing to hide the sound. “Gonna have to keep quiet for me. Can you do that?”

You nod your head, wiggling back against his hips pressed hard and unmoving to your ass. He pulls out slow and thrusts back, mindful of the noise of contact. It takes all your focus to bite back your moans.

“Don’t want your classmates seeing how slutty you are for a good fuck, do you? What if they walked in, saw you like this on your teacher’s cock?”

The thought has your hole constricting his length. You can already envision Yuuji’s shocked expression as he stares you down, his respected senior, nothing more than a babbling mess as Gojo Satoru fucks you raw in an empty classroom. The man behind you holds back a laugh.

The footsteps pass without the hint of something much filthier than extra help transpiring beyond the thin walls. You think you might have even seen a tuft of pink hair whizz by in the corner of your vision - whatever the matter, he’s gone, and you can finally catch your breath.

“Dirty girl,” Gojo rasps from behind you, slamming into you roughly, a sinister smile tugging at the corners of his lips while his fingers force themselves into your mouth, “you - hah - you fucking love it.”

That spring in the base of your tummy starts to coil taut, rising faster than ever. “Love it,” you choke, stimulated tears forming at your lash line, “love it so much!”

His pace is relentless, your slick gushing all around him. He’s building you up just to break you down, the only one who can help you take the edge off.

“Tell me what you want,” he says through gritted teeth, “I’ll give it to you.”

Holding you tight to his chest with locked arms, he completely covers your body with his tall stature, inescapable and confining.

“Fuck, wanna - wanna cum so bad, so bad, sir.”

His large hand trails its way over your waist, soft fingers moving down, down, until they slip right over that little sensitive bundle at your front, cool and wet, that has your breath catching audibly in your throat.

Gojo places his mouth just behind your ear, tone soft and sultry. The pad of his index finger rubs firm circles over your swollen, aching clit. It elicits a filthy sound from you that makes his cock twitch inside you. “Right there, huh?” He feels you clench as your legs tremble beneath him.

Your climax crashes over you in hot, unforgiving waves, tightening your walls and creaming all over every inch of his length. “Come on, give it all to teacher,” he encourages through heavy pants, making your skin prickle, and it’s just what you need. A chorus of loud, high pitched, breathless moans tumbles from your mouth as you ride it out.

You’re drenching his fingers, making a mess as your squirt drips down and coats his cock, making him growl into your hair. He coaches you through it, stringing out his praises, “Just like that, mhm, good girl.”

His eyes fall shut as your cunt suffocates his cock, feeling his hips stutter as you suck him in. With a guttural, hungry groan, he’s burying his load in your waiting hole. He snaps against you once, twice more, hard and quick as he starts to come down.

A moment passes to catch your breaths, heartbeats beginning to slow in tandem. Gojo nuzzles his face into the back of your neck and sighs before placing an affectionate kiss there.

Your legs are jelly beneath you so he’s careful when he releases his grasp, slowly turning you around to face him and sit back on the desk.

“You alright?” he asks, wiping away the wetness under your eyes.

It’s safe to say that you’re relieved, in more ways than one. Your shoulders feel lighter and as does your chest, like everything you’ve been shackled to has been lifted off with a good fuck.

“Yeah, much better.” There’s a tired grin to your words.

He wipes away the sheen of sweat that has collected on his hairline and reaches over you to grab a few tissues off the desk. He’s gentle as he cleans you up, dabbing up sweat and cum from where it drips down your thighs.

“You should get some rest. I’ll get you out of class tomorrow morning if you need it. Make up an excuse or something.” He pulls up his own trousers and helps you button up your top again, then lowering you back to the floor so you can be on your way.

“Let me know if you ever need any more assistance,” he winks, patting the top of your head. He smooths down a few stray hairs, putting you back together in at least a somewhat presentable way. “My help is always available to students that need it.”

Because while all that cursed energy may be under control, your relations are far from over.

#gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojou satoru smut #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #gojo x reader smut #gojou satoru x reader

8K notes · View notes

fruggo · 3 years

Note

I’m not gonna lie this would be the first time I requested something so if I do something wrong I’m really sorry,

Can I request Quentin, Leon, Steve, and Frank meeting a female reader who, before the entity took her, had already faced off her own killer?

And this made her kinda tough? Like she knows what she’s doing

oh my gosh thank you so much!! this is my first ever request to fulfill so we’re in this together :DD seriously i really appreciate you!

i decided to do a headcanon kind of format for this, i hope that’s okay! also these are my absolute favorite boys aaahhh this is so fun for a first request

the boys x tough f!reader (part 1) (part 2)

warnings: swearing, reader kicks frank in the shins

word count: ~700-1k each (sorry if it’s too long…i kind of got really excited and uhhh maybe i got carried away,, yeah. sorry)

(also i'll be honest quentin's is not my best. that was the one that got eaten by the tumblr abyss and i had to write all over again, and it just didn't come out the same way that i wanted it to at first :( i did the other boys hoping i'd get some inspiration to fix it afterwards, but i got kind of stuck. so it's not my favorite, but i hope you like it okay! i want to write better stuff for quentin in the future, he is my favorite sleepy boy <3)

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

when you arrived in the realm, everyone thought you would be the same as the others—frightened, confused, and overwhelmed. but you took this nightmarish challenge in stride, adapting to your surroundings quickly and learning far faster than anybody else had.

your past experiences had made you independent and sometimes distrustful, so once you had the gist of things, you didn’t need (or want) anybody to tell you what to do. and nobody was inclined to, either—your instincts naturally told you what to do and when.

the first time you met quentin was a little awkward, i wont lie. you were wary of speaking to the other survivors; you weren’t going to let yourself get hurt again.

it was the beginning of a trial. the nurse’s fatigued shrills could be heard all the way from the edge of the wrecker’s yard, but you immediately started work on a generator, unafraid. a few minutes passed, when soft footsteps indicated someone’s approach. it was quentin—he started to work on the wires without hesitation.

you were a little surprised, only because the other survivors usually left you to your own devices. you got the impression that maybe they were intimidated by you, which you didn’t particularly mind. but you wouldn’t particularly mind some company now and then, either.

it was comfortably silent for a while, before quentin spoke up.

“what’s your name?” he asked, gaze still focused on the wires.

hesitating a little, you told him. then you said, “and you’re quentin, right?” you already knew most everybody’s name just from observation.

“that i am,” he replied.

then it was quiet for a while.

very quiet.

well, what were you supposed to say now?

the silence was deafening and very, very uncomfortable to you. normally you were okay with a quiet atmosphere, but it was the kind of silence that buzzed in your ears, chewed at your stomach, filled the area as if it were something solid. man, what were you supposed to say—

it was then that you realized poor quentin had fallen asleep, his face smooshed onto the generator. his cheek was now covered in grease and grime.

it made you smile—only a little. you finished repairing the generator on your own, causing quentin to wake with a start and bang his head on the pole protruding from the machine. he swore like a sailor until he realized where he was, smiling sheepishly.

“sorry, i wanted you to have your nap. you looked really tired,” you said. you also couldn’t stop admiring the dark grease on his face—it was really quite funny. and no, you weren’t going to say anything about it. it could stay there a little longer.

you spent the rest of the trial running the nurse around the whole wrecker’s yard, only suffering one injury until the end. quentin had no idea how you had been here for such little time and already knew how to outplay the nurse, one of the most difficult killers to survive against. he still didn’t know how to do it well himself, so he was thankful for you.

however, once the exit gates were opened, you found yourself in a bad spot. the nurse had caught you in an empty clearing with nowhere to hide or predict her moves, and she downed you instantly. quentin cringed hearing your agonized scream as you were hooked.

there was no way you were dying on his watch. once he was sure the nurse was gone, he gently lifted you from the hook, pulling out his medical kit to begin patching up your shoulder.

despite the pain, you had enough energy to smile at him and say, “thanks, nap boy.”

quentin feigned offense with a wry grin, pulling out some gauze. “is that all i’m going to be to you? nap boy?”

you hummed, pretending to be deep in thought. “maybe you won’t be if you get me out of here.”

“that won’t be a problem," he smiled, quirking an eyebrow.

“show me the gates and then we’ll talk, nap boy.”

from then on, quentin became your go-to source for supplies and general comfort. you weren't scared of this place, but it was nice to know you had somebody who would really be there for you.

he would often fall asleep on your shoulder at the campfire--he really was a nap boy, and you would never let him live that down.

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘

leon could not tear his eyes away from you the first time you arrived in the realm. your presence was strong; he could tell you weren’t one to back away from a fight.

most of the survivors had been (rightly) confused and disoriented when they popped into the realm, but you tried to accept it quickly. you didn’t like it, in fact all you wanted was just to go home, but you came to terms with it and jumped into trials headfirst like an insane person.

that was the courageous part about you—maybe you were scared, but you did scary shit anyways. in fact, you did scary shit to spite the fear, to prove to yourself that you were strong enough to overcome it.

and leon couldn’t lie, that was cool as hell.

you had tunnel vision and didn’t pay much notice to the other survivors; you were too focused on learning about this place and getting out of trials. having gone through some real shit, being here hardly came as a surprise to you. if you were going to be here forever, what was the point in mourning? might as well just accept it and try your hardest to survive. maybe someday this sick game would end, but for now, you were prepared to fight for your life and that’s all you could really focus on.

your first trial was not the best. even though you were resourceful, you didn’t know what the objective was yet, so you weren’t sure where to start other than analyzing your surroundings. luckily for you, leon kennedy was one of your teammates.

after being downed immediately by bubba’s chainsaw and tossed onto a hook, you were amazingly resilient to the pain. leon was the one to lift you from the hook, and he took out his medkit to help patch your wound, but you flinched away from him before he could touch you.

he was puzzled. “what’s wrong?” he asked. he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but he wanted to help you.

you hesitated and looked him over before mumbling, “i’m fine.” and you tried to stand on your own, beginning to limp away. you didn’t want or need anyone’s help.

leon sighed, following after you. “let me help, that must hurt a lot.”

“i told you, cop, i’m fine. i don’t want your help, okay?”

leon opened his mouth to insist, but decided against it. if you didn’t want his help, then he shouldn’t butt in. that wouldn’t keep him from watching over you, though.

but then leon called after you (perhaps a little smugly), “do you even know what you’re supposed to do?”

begrudgingly, you stopped walking. no, you didn’t know what to do. “i’ll figure it out,” you said over your shoulder. and you would; you had been through enough to survive any situation thrown at you.

but maybe one pointer couldn’t hurt.

“do a generator,” he told you, giving you a cheeky grin when you turned around to look at him. he was lucky he was cute.

the first part of the trial had been rough, but after that first hook you were doing a lot better. you managed to find your own medkit from a chest, and you learned how to fix a few generators. you found it came pretty naturally, and were satisfied that you hadn’t needed anyone’s help (except leon’s. but you didn’t have to admit that yet). when the killer came near, you skillfully avoided him and stayed hidden as much as you could.

you were also pretending that you didn't notice leon hovering near you. he was not very good at being subtle; he was obviously trying to make sure you didn't get hurt. it was cute. you didn't want to ruin his fun, so you didn't say anything about it.

it wasn’t long before the gates were powered and in the process of being opened. you saw a red glowing light in the distance, and assumed that must be your destination. you put all of your remaining energy into sprinting to the exit, adrenaline pumping through your body.

but then there was a heartbeat. a heartbeat so loud it filled your head, splitting your concentration. it wasn’t your own heartbeat--it was the killer’s.

the sound of the cannibal’s chainsaw roared in your ears and pain tore through your body; you collapsed to the ground with a cry of agony. shit, that really hurt, and you weren't sure you could ever get used to it. eternity sure seemed a lot longer than you had first anticipated. would you really be here forever? doing this over and over?

biting your lip until it bled, you tried to crawl towards the gate, dragging the lower half of your body with much difficulty. it was no use, though--you hardly got anywhere, and you could already feel the killer picking you up. just like that, you were going to die? you had been so close..

but as you were being placed on bubba’s shoulder, you saw a flash of a police uniform and a blinding light, and before you knew it, you had been dropped to the ground, the exit gate looking awfully lovely and much more desirable than a meat hook. you gathered all of your strength and began limping forward, when suddenly you felt an arm firmly wrap around your waist and your own was placed around someone else’s shoulder.

leon. when you looked up at him, all he did was give you a calm smile, which you felt inclined to return. with him supporting you, the two of you made it safely to the exit and began the long traipse back to the campfire, where you would find yourself spending a lot of time together.

from then on, you always remained quite unfazed by the events of the entity’s realm—the only thing that ever made you feel weak was being around leon. he was just so cute :]

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍

you had never met someone so persistent in your life. from the moment the entity stole you here, steve harrington was after you, and there was next to nothing you could do about it. he sure was living up to his self-proclaimed role of babysitter.

you told him you were fine, that you didn’t need him following you around, but the asshole did it anyways.

“how cool do you think you are?” you asked him at some point, to which he simply shrugged with that stupid grin on his lips.

“i can take care of myself.” “i really don’t need you to baby me, steve.” “steve, if you don’t leave me alone i’m going to break your kneecaps.” these were all things that had come from your mouth multiple times recently. you were seriously thinking about that last one now.

you knew you could make it on your own, and you only wished he would give you a chance to prove that to him so he would leave you alone. but it was like he had attached himself to your hip, and for some reason the entity seemed to really enjoy putting you in trials with him. great.

he was a dumbass and a sweetheart, and you weren’t sure which one of those took higher priority. you knew he only meant well, but god, you wanted to be independent for once. why did he think he had to protect you so much? you arrived here after running for your fucking life, fighting off your long-time pursuer, and living in awful, ever-changing conditions. you had seen your closest friends die, right before your eyes. you didn’t need to be sheltered or coddled, but you couldn’t seem to make steve understand that, no matter how much you fought with him.

steve would literally throw himself in front of the killer for you. he clicked his flashlight in the killer’s face if they were after you, and he would swear and cuss until they chased him out of pure annoyance. it got him killed countless times, and you didn’t know whether to call him stupid or selfless. probably both.

eventually you decided to just copy him and see how it worked out. you weren’t scared, you had no reason to be. you wanted to show him you could be just as flashy as him.

as you arrived into a trial, steve right across from you (of course), you smiled to yourself. you had brought your best flashlight, and you were prepared to use it. the two of you began to work on a generator together, making light conversation as usual.

“if the killer comes here, hide. i’ll take him away.” “fuck you, steve harrington.” “sure, if you really want to.” “why don’t you ever leave me alone?” “it’s a mystery, isn’t it?” “i could punch you right now.” “but you won’t. i’m too good to look at.”

you know, the usual friendly stuff.

you purposefully connected the wrong wires, making the generator spark and sputter. “oops. oh no, the killer must be on their way,” you dead-panned. steve gave you an unamused look.

and indeed, only a few moments later, you heard the sound of the hillbilly and his chainsaw roaring in your direction. the two of you split up, and the killer’s weapon collided with the generator, making an awful screeching sound.

and that was when the chaos started.

steve began hollering and flicking his flashlight into the sky as usual, and after a moment’s hesitation, you did the same. steve looked at you in astonishment, pausing, but then he started again, even louder. you tried to outdo him.

“HEY BILLY! FUCK YOU!” you screamed, ignoring steve’s attempts to get you to stop. “COME AFTER ME, SHITHEAD!”

steve started actually yelling, just yelling, while you continued to swear meaninglessly. the poor hillbilly looked confused and overwhelmed, and eventually he couldn’t take the noise anymore--he just left, opting to find the other survivors while the two of you sorted out whatever it is you obviously had against each other.

it was dead silent now that the killer was gone, and you and steve were both out of breath. but as soon as you made eye contact, laughter bubbled up from your chest, causing you to collapse against the tree and slide to the ground. your voice was hoarse from all the screaming.

and then he was laughing too, stumbling over to plop down next to you, and your giggling started up a whole new round.

after the laughter died down, you stared at your hands, ignoring steve’s gaze on the side of your face until you couldn’t anymore.

“what?” you asked, finally looking at him. he was smiling all stupid again. “what?” you insisted, fighting off a grin of your own. you hated when he looked at you like that, because it made you want to smile back at him.

“nothing,” he said coyly, laughing again. you punched his shoulder playfully.

“c’mon harrington, when have you ever held your tongue before? spit it out.”

he nodded, that was true. so he said it. “i just like you, that’s all.”

oh. oh.

realization dawned upon your face. “is that why you always--”

“yes,” he interrupted you. “i thought it was obvious. man, you’re clueless sometimes.”

oh.

huh.

you guessed…maybe…steve harrington wasn’t that annoying. maybe.

𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍

to say you were feisty was an understatement. frank hated your guts at first because you were so good at evading him, which he would never admit. but the thing that made him really mad was that if he ever downed you, you would kick at him and try to trip him over, like actually bruise his shins. it hurt like hell.

this lead to his decision to constantly tunnel you, and he would laugh at you while you were on the hook, too. so you hated his guts just as much as he did yours. it was a mutual guts-hating situation.

your teammates always felt bad for you, but they also thought you were a badass and knew you could handle yourself. you hadn’t told anybody where you’d come from or what had happened to you, but they knew it was something interesting. there was a reason that nothing that happened here really got to you.

sometimes things escalated even further than shin-kicking. there was one time where frank had managed to grab the back of your shirt as you tried to vault a window, and as he pulled you closer to himself, you elbowed him in the neck and squirmed out of his grasp. while he stood stunned and lost for breath, you kicked the back of his locked knee so that he fell to the ground and bonked his forehead on the wall—the classic dead leg.

this was very funny to you.

not to him.

while you ran away, laughing to yourself, frank’s anger built and built. he was tired of letting you make a fool of him, and it was time to be serious about things.

he ignored you for the rest of the trial, forming a plan in his mind. there was something he needed to do after this, so he made sure to kill everybody else to please the entity—he couldn’t get caught up, it would derail his anger train. he also didn’t feel like getting kicked in the balls or some shit, so he let you out without a problem.

frank did some brooding at the ormond lodge before he was ready to go through with his plan. and his shins really, really hurt, so susie helped him ice them before he left.

the masked killer made his way to the survivor camp rather hastily. when he arrived, he saw you pacing around, deep in thought.

so he threw a rock at you.

it was just a pebble, really. maybe it could be considered a rather large pebble, but frank insisted in his mind that it was a pebble.

“ow, what the fuck!” you cursed, rubbing your sore shoulder and looking around to find the culprit. and then your eyes laid on him.

he looked so sultry standing there at the edge of the woods, arms crossed and mask smiling, you could almost laugh at him. he acted so serious, when really, he was just an angry and misbehaving twink.

you put on your best serious face, genuinely trying not to be amused by this, and strode over to the killer.

“what do you want?” you asked confidently, mirroring his body language and crossing your arms.

frank bristled at your approach, as if trying to make himself look bigger. he wished you were scared of him like everyone else, it would really make him feel better.

“i want a truce,” he said.

you almost burst into laughter at that. a truce? what the fuck for?

he said was willing to stop tunneling and camping you if you stopped beating the shit out of him with your sticky little hands. he didn’t say it like that, but you knew that was what he meant. you, a survivor, could beat up frank, a killer, and it upset him and his little ego :(

just to humor him, you agreed. and frank nodded.

“but,” you continued, raising your eyebrows, “you have to give me something else.”

he started to say “no, no way—“ but you interrupted him: “you’re asking me to stop fighting for myself and just give in when you catch me. i think i deserve something other than just not being tunnelled.”

frank glared at you under his mask, thankful that you couldn’t see. “okay. whatever. what do you want?”

“i want to see your face.” you thought this was a good choice, something you could lord over him forever. it was surely only a win for you. his face was something private, and you would be the only survivor to know.

of course you wanted to see his face, frank thought. everyone did; they wanted to find out if he was good-looking. which, according to him, he was. if you ever asked the other members of the legion, susie was the only one to actually respond. she felt obligated to compliment him as she was basically his sister. so she would say frank is handsome in a ruggedy, jess mariano kind of way. you wondered how she knew what gilmore girls was, since that came after her time, but susie would never give away her secret.

so with a sigh, frank agreed to let you see his face. he didn’t really care, all he wanted was to stop having bruises on his shins. it was kind of miserable, and the entity never did anything to help him.

when he said that you couldn’t do it here, and you asked why the fuck not, he said it was because some other survivor might see. you decided he had a fair point, so reluctantly you let him drag you all the way to ormond.

when he took off his mask, your first thought, whether you wanted it to be or not, was “wow! he really does look like jess mariano! but with tattoos! hot!”

you were lost for words. you didn’t really know what you were expecting, but you sure weren’t expecting him to be that attractive.

he could tell your thoughts from the look on your face.

this had been per your request, and you were planning on this being something you could hold over his head, but the situation had turned into something that he could hold over your head.

oh dear. frank morrison now held pretty boy privilege over you.

and soon you would find out that he was going to keep tunnelling you anyways.

listen i've been watching a lot of gilmore girls and i just get jess vibes from frank, except our boy is more of a twinky idk shdjfhsf i love this guy sm

#so many notes!!!! thank u!! :]#dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #dbd fanfic #dbd headcanons #frank morrison #frank morrison x reader #quentin smith #quentin smith x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #fruggo writes #dbd #dead by daylight #requests

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k-dokja · 3 years

Text

home

summary: what is a home to someone without a root

Morose would not be the word he used to describe you.

There existed other fitting adjectives which would colour the painting of you as a person. He'd not use any shade that came with the name “morose” for it would not resonate with the remaining shades and shadows. But you had spaced out often lately and he found himself unfamiliar with this side of yours.

It was strange to add on a painting he thought he had painted the entirety. To realize the canvas was larger than he thought and all this time, he was only focusing on one aspect. His ignorance proved that he needed to learn and expand his vision.

Stagnation would benefit no one, least of all, himself.

“What’s with that look?” The question came with a brusque edge to it.

Words always served him better as taunts and intimidations. Even he, at times, had to admit that he didn't always know what to say. Actions worked better when it came to sending the message across, but he didn't know how to act in this uncharted territory.

With words, maybe, he will learn.

His concern surprised you and he took offence to that, but the irritation was mild and vanished within the moment. The same way your shock did.

“You remember our safehouse in Hanover?”

Kayden traced his past and found that he remembered the place with clarity. He nodded, giving you the confirmation to go on ahead.

“I left a toy there the last time we were in the city. You know, the one I named Fred.”

“Mhm.”

“You remember him, yeah? I saw him in passing while we were walking on the street and wouldn't leave until I got him.”

The memory brought a small smile to his lips. Even the warmth of your hand in his from that day remained with him until this day. There was snow and you stuck to the front glass window of the store, more a kid than an adult in how you acted. He was exasperated then but allowed you to make the quick trip inside anyway.

“Yeah, I remember.” More than he should have, if only because how excited you were. To the point where he covered the payment for you so he could see that expression of yours longer.

There were hints of that excitment again on your face, but it was a pale imitation of the past. The solemnity returned to your eyes soon after, and Kayden kept hoping he'd figure out how to take it away. “It’s strange... I never really had to miss anything, you know,” you opened your palms, maybe the answer would be within them, “we could always go anywhere we wanted whenever we wanted.”

You stopped to recollect your thoughts, and then, your hands curled into fists, “I... I didn't know whether if I missed being on the move or I missed having something to go back to,” you went on a tangent, directionless, “but it's been a few months and... everything have been nice here, I know we won't stay here forever but...”

As your thoughts entangled, Kayden found himself sighing, “It’s a nice thought, having a home,”

“It is, isn't it?” You brightened at his supplement of words. “We never really got a chance to make a home for ourselves before... even with the souvenirs, the decorations, the little touches didn't matter when you didn't have the time to make the place feel lived.”

“We’ll have a home one day,” he reached for your hand and squeezed until you grounded yourself in his touch, “until then, home is wherever we are.”

Intangible as you words were, he had deduced what your concerns were. His fear for the blank side of the canvas had been unfounded. If it were to be the unknown, Kayden would've braved it anyway, for you. However, these were the colours he knew, the colours he had seen, the colours he had on his own canvas.

He could help you navigate, if you wanted.

“Yeah, home is...” You pressed your lips together, there was a little crease between your brows.

Kayden always found it cute when you were trying to think too hard about something. Cuter you'd become afterwards when you figured out the words to say. “My home is you.”

“...What?” Admittedly, he was truly lost at that. “What are you suddenly being cheesy for?”

He laughed at you, softer than normal. The laughter was a distraction, so was the flick he made on your forehead. Your words were alienating, but he knew the discomfort in his chest came from his failure to understand what you meant.

“I’m not being cheesy!” You pouted and swatted his hand away, he didn't attempt to mess with you again. “I mean it.”

The words were simple, your affection was simple. He kept complicating it but every single one of his hypotheses always boiled down to the simple truth, you meant what you said. Kayden saw you pondering about it, calling it thoughtless would be discrediting you.

He couldn't imagine you'd take it lying down. “Yeah, well,” finding something else to focus on was better, easier for him to not anticipate how you'd react, “I can't say I don't feel the same.”

“Same what?”

“Same feeling as you,” Kayden narrowed his eyes back at you, an eerie sense of irony overtook his mind.

“Same what?” You urged him again, grinning this time, he wanted to wipe that smile from your lips.

“Don’t be greedy, we're having the same conversation,” he warned, “you know what I meant.”

Your eyes sparked with mischief. It was that excitment again. Not the one reserved for the toy from the store back at Hanover, but the one filled with adoration you gave him through that night. He wanted to keep it forever. “Same what?”

You leaned towards him, challenging. Your grin was one of mockery and mirth, he had thought to wipe it away and he did.

The distance was a short one, then nonexistent when he closed it. His lips were on yours, his smile was a mirror of yours. He had come to figure out a way to deal with your problems and he had found it. The admission of the truth would be a small price to pay, if it meant he'd make you happy for another moment longer.

His words came as no more than a whisper, yet they spoke loud. “My home is you, as well.”

#kayden break #kayden break x reader #eleceed x reader #eleceed #fics

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fangurk · 3 years

Text

She’s Always There (Paul Lahote x Reader)

Key:

Y/n: Your Name

Y/l/n: Your Last Name

Y/n/n: Your Nickname

Y/e/c: Your Eye Color

Y/h/c: Your Hair Color

Prompt Given To Me By @ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhghhhh.tumblr.com: hey!! so the reason I'm messaging is because I wanted to request something but can't fit it all into an ask lmao. anyways could i please request a Paul Lahote x reader where the reader has been super close to the whole pack for years and has been Paul's imprint but doesn't know it (bc Sam thought it would be best to keep u away from it all) and they decide to finally tell you about being shapeshifters and being Paul's imprint and you're so mad about them not telling u earlier and there's a huge argument and they and Paul tries to calm you down but you say stuff like 'leave me alone' and things like that and it sounds like you're rejecting him/the bond in ur angry breakdown. anyways Paul is heartbroken and can't get out of bed or eat or anything so the guys finally convince you to come back bc they and Paul need you and it's just the reader cuddling with him and getting him out of bed to take a shower and eat and he realizes that you're not going anywhere and it's just like healing the imprint bond? sorry for this WALL of text, I've just had this idea stuck in my head for a while lol. if you don't want to do it, that's completely fine!! thank you for your time ♡

ok so my guy,, bc this fic has been stuck in my head for a bit, some scenes have developed? so idk i hope this isn't too much, but if u do write it, would u be willing to add like some angst to it, obvi, and maybe a scene/part lol where when the reader tries to get him to shower (bc the misinterpreted rejection made him like super depressed and he just felt low about himself) he won't shower, because he doesn't want to come out and the reader is gone. so either they shower together (not smutty just angst&fluff) or she sits like in the bathroom while he showers LOL. and when he feels a bit better, they go down to eat and he's touching some part of her at all times. if this is too much to like,, include then that's a-okay. i just need to get this OUT of my MIND ugh lmao!/!

Reader Gender: Female

Summary: The Reader has been friends with most of the pack members for her whole life. Which is why, after months of silence and strange changes, she was willing to let them back into her life— until she finds out she’s been told lies that leave her in danger, of course. After a big freak out and two weeks of avoiding them, the boys come begging for her help; it turns out that Paul has some wolf-y claim on her, and whatever she said to him has left him worse for wear...

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Nudity, Angst, and Cursing.

A/n: this is literally like a whole novel I’m so sorry I got carried away. this is kinda based on a lot of fics I read where the imprint has the potential to really hurt people and I named Paul’s dad.

Word Count: 2.9k+

“The legends are real!?”

Y/n Y/l/n hasn’t ever been so disturbed in her entire life.

After weeks of radio silence, Sam Uley’s little ‘gang’, mostly consisting of people she’d known since childhood, had slowly trickled back into her life. What started as a grocery run with Paul or a movie with Jared had turned into big bonfire parties including Jacob Black and his gaggle.

But that was months ago. Months. And now, as she sits by a fire, surrounded on either side by them, they decide to tell her their little secret?

“Y/n.” Sam says as she abruptly stands, eyes stern and hand raised placatingly.

His actions only served to upset her more and her skin bristles with irritation. Sam was acting as if she, a human surrounded by shape shifters, was the unstable one. As if she could do any damage to things built to kill vampires.

“Don’t you dare, Sam.” She clenches her fists, glaring right back at him. “It’s been months- months- and you’re telling me now?”

“It’s not exactly an easy thing to bring up.” He reasons, voice a little less demanding. “We all wanted to be sure that you were ready to know.”

“Ready?!” Y/n laughs mirthlessly, y/e/c eyes wide with disbelief, “When was I supposed to be ready Sam? W-when one of you gored me? When a cold one ripped me apart?”

Her hands shake as she puts them on her forehead, blinking back tears. Growing up all she’d ever heard were stories of humans getting dragged into fights between wolf and vampire, and she couldn’t bring herself to look Emily in the eye because it was suddenly apparent that wolves alone could hurt people too.

It was so bad, whatever happened to Emily, that they said a bear mauled her— Y/n didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“It’s not like that, Y/n/n.” Embry chimes in, reaching out to grab his friend's arm.

She yanks her body out of the way and gathers her belongings quickly.

“What is it like then, Call?” She holds her bag to her heaving chest, “because it seems to me that you all have the ability to turn into giant, slobbery freaks that are built for killing vampires and, after completely dropping me for weeks, you decided to keep it secret from me for months. Did it even occur to you that I would’ve been better off knowing right off the bat?!”

No one says anything. Eight shifters and two of their girlfriends sit there, just staring at her like she was speaking a different language.

“You know,” Y/n has to clear her throat to steady her wavering voice, “had you guys really been souped-up on drugs like everyone says, maybe I could’ve handled the lying. But my life was clearly potentially in danger, and you let me hang around without saying anything. I- God I don’t want to see you people right now.”

She leaves with that, stepping over logs and storming back down the beach with determination. Faintly over the roar of her heartbeat, she can hear someone scrambling to stand behind her.

“Wait!— shit, sorry-” Paul grunts, jogging to catch up with her- “Y/n-“

With an unusual gentleness, his warm hand wrapped around her forearm. For a moment, deep in the back of her mind, a foreign feeling tells her to stop, to listen; but that small voice is quickly smothered by the rational part of her brain, and she wrenches her arm from his grip.

“Don’t touch me!” She snaps, lowering her voice, “Leave me alone- I need to be alone.”

Paul stands there, dumbstruck, an unreadable look in his eyes as she walks away. And he’d continue to stand there, looking like a kicked puppy long after her retreating form became a blur amongst the darkness of the beach.

“Paul?” Sam is hesitant, hand hovering over the younger boy’s shoulder a minute before he touches him, “You okay?”

Shrugging his leader’s arm off his shoulder, Paul sighs. “No...I...I’m just gonna head home.”

Instead of going in the directions of the cars, the wolf stalks off toward the woods; Emily stands from her seat, wrapping her sweater more around herself as she watches Paul leave. Concern is written all over her features.

“He’ll be fine, Em,” He pulls her in for a hug, “it’ll all work out eventually.”

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

Y/n does a good job of avoiding them for a while.

She turns her phone off a few days in and avoids going to First Beach, even when Washington gets a rare, warm summer feel. Books that have sat long forgotten on her shelves get read and TV shows she’s always meant to catch up on get watched; it’s boring and she runs out of options, at one point thinking of dying her hair y/f/c just to spice things up, but it allows her to think. (Or at least it allows this strange little voice in the back of her head to tell her that she needs to go back to them.)

The next time she sees any of the boys is exactly two weeks after the bonfire incident.

She’s curled up on her couch, picking at some of the Clearwaters’ fish fry and barely watching an episode of ANTM, when a fist comes banging down on her door. Turning off the TV, she tiptoes to the window, peeking under the curtain as carefully as she can.

As she expected, Jared Cameron and Embry Call are on her porch, the former standing in front of her door with his hip cocked, the other rooting around in her mother’s plants for something. Cringing, she hopes if she’s quiet enough that they’ll just go away.

Her front door opens within minutes, however, and she realizes her hoping is fruitless.

Should’ve known you can’t hide from wolves, she can’t help but think bitterly.

“Y/n?” Jared calls out through the house, “we know you’re here.”

“Yeah, and you guys should probably move your spare key,” Embry tacks on, flicking the light switch to the living room up, “I've known you forever and it’s still in the same place.”

From her spot by the window, the y/h/c haired girl glares at the two boys, arms crossed over her chest. Embry gives her a lopsided grin and holds the key out to her, his bud plopping down on the couch and pulling her abandoned plate into his lap.

Y/n extends a hand to take the key.

“Has it really been in the same place?” She sounds a little more defeated than she’d like.

“Yeah, it’s always been in your mother’s cornflower pot.”

“That’s...kinda sad.” She wrinkles her nose, pocketing the key with the intention to hide it better later, “but uh, I’ve been ignoring you for two weeks for a reason. Peacefully breaking into my house kinda furthers my need for space.”

Embry scratches the back of his neck.

“Well,” He says, “we need you to come back, man. Paul won’t talk to anyone- Sam doesn’t know if he’s eating, and he won’t even get out of bed for patrol! He needs his imprint-”

“His what?” She cocks her head to the side and Jared snorts from the couch.

“She left before we got there, nimrod,” Jared mocks through a mouthful of food, “she doesn’t know what an imprint is.”

He lets out an indignant “Hey!” as Y/n walks by, snatching her plate back from him on her way to the kitchen. Embry chases after her, a grumpy Jared jumping up from the couch to follow.

“You’re his imprint— you’re basically his soulmate!”

“Really?” She says warily, sealing the fish and putting it back in the fridge.

Both boys nod clumsily.

“You remember a few weeks ago when you saw each other for the first time again and he kinda just stood there like an idiot while you talked?”

“Yeah? Oh!-” She brings her hands up to her mouth, brows furrowed as she recalls.

It was exactly Jared had said. She and Paul had seen one another for the first time in a long time and the minute her y/e/c eyes looked into his, it was like he’d been struck dumb.

Embry gives her an encouraging look, “An imprint is...It's not like love at first sight, really. It's more like… gravity moves… suddenly. It's not the earth holding you here anymore, she does… You become whatever she needs you to be, whether that's a protector, or a lover, or a friend. When you snapped at him last week he thought you were rejecting him….”

A part of her thought about how absurd it was that he knew that whole speech. But the bigger part of her came to a realization that made her stomach churn.

“So he's all depressed… because… of me?” She whispers, leaning back on the counter.

Embry, always a rather sympathetic person, opens his mouth to comfort her, but Jared cuts him off.

“Basically. So are you going to come with us so we can help Paul or are you going to continue being petty?”

In any other circumstance, Y/n probably would’ve thrown something at her for calling her petty. She felt she was completely justified in her actions. A part of her wonders if she can really believe them— they’d spent months lying to her after all. But a larger part thinks about Paul, curled up in his bed, slowly desecrating because he thinks she rejected him.

If it were really all some ploy to get her to listen to them, then she’d at least be the person who chose the well-being of her friend over a petty disagreement.

“I’m coming.” She affirms, pushing herself off the counter, and letting the boys lead her to the car.

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

Jared and Embry drop her off in front of the Lahote household. They tell her something but she can’t really hear them over her heartbeat, she doesn’t even know they’re gone until it’s too late to turn back.

Getting into the house wasn’t the hard part. Paul’s father, Cyrus, had been leaving as she arrived, and, after he watched her stare at the house with a fearful expression for a few minutes, he happily let her in. The hard part was willing her legs to take her up the stairs to Paul’s room, and then it was opening his bedroom door.

Y/n has known Paul since they were eight, but she was afraid of him until they were eleven. He wasn’t mean, per se, but his anger made him do mean things; she wasn’t entirely happy with puberty and it’s monthly gifts, but whatever it did to make her suddenly un-afraid of him she was grateful for. But now, standing in front of his bedroom door, she had a nagging fear that Paul would revert to that eight year old boy who threw lunch boxes and twisted arms behind backs until people cried.

The door creaks slightly as she struggles to push it open.

His room is almost completely dark except for the light coming from the hallway behind her. Trash and dirty clothes have formed a compact layer on his bedroom floor, foot sized holes leading up to the twin sized bed in the corner. On the bed, amongst the blankets she’s sure he doesn’t need, is Paul— or at least, a Paul sized lump.

As gross as it is, she’s kind of relieved he’s been eating.

“Paul?” She whispers tentatively, stepping toward the bed.

The lump flinches and turns toward her.

“Y/n?”

If the room and the description of his state weren’t heartbreaking enough, his voice definitely was. Hollow, rough, and small, everything it never was, everything Paul wasn’t.

“Is that you?”

“Yeah...it’s me..”

She carefully steps over to the bed, and Paul slowly sits up, pushing his blankets to the side. There’s a beat of silence as she stands between his legs, his reluctant hands coming to rest on her waist after a minute. Y/n let’s him have another to gather his thoughts.

“You really came…” Tears well up in his eyes and loops his arms around her back.

She runs a hand through his hair. “I did, and I’m so sorry, if I had known—”

Paul nuzzles her stomach, “S’fine, you didn’t know, and you’re here now.”

There’s a sort of cute, euphoria lacing his voice and he’s visibly much more relaxed.

“Just don’t ever say that again…”

“I won’t, I promise.”

She’s surprised when he manhandles her into his lap, but she doesn’t really mind. He’s warm and strangely familiar and something about it just— clicks.

“When was the last time you spent, I dunno, a minute or two out of your room?” Y/n asks softly, y/e/c eyes glancing about the room.

The shifter’s only response is a shrug, too busy nosing around her neck with vigor. When he finds a certain spot, it makes her squeak, and this seems to excite him like a puppy finding out its favorite toy makes noise.

“You need to bathe, eat something substantial,” She intertwines their fingers, “and the...pack...they’re really worried about you— are you even listening to me?”

He looks up at her then and flashes her a sheepish smile, answering her question. Pursing her lips, she pulls his arms from around her.

“C’mon, Paul.” She stands up and takes his hand. “We’re gonna get you cleaned up.”

She moves toward the door, urging him forward, only to be jerked to a stop as he stays put. He looks a little distressed when she turns back to him, brows furrowed, almost like he’s in pain.

“Paul?”

He grunts, jaw clenched as the cogs turn in his head. Y/n cocks her head and reaches out for his other hand. It felt like some sort of supernatural intuition, one she’ll blame on the imprint and ask Emily about later.

“Paul, hon, why won’t you come shower?”

“I’m afraid you'll leave,” He says bashfully, “it’s stupid, I know, but part of me is afraid you’ll leave while I’m in the shower.”

Y/n couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken at his confession. Paul was part wolf, and part of being part wolf was imprinting— she almost wishes she’d have stayed long enough to listen, or been able to focus as the boys debriefed her on the ride over because only being able to speculate how much she’d actually hurt him was eating her alive. He wouldn’t even shower, something he desperately needed to do, because of what she’d said.

Taking a deep breath, she barely registers the words she’s about to say.

“I’ll wait with you, I’ll sit on the toilet, you’ll see me there.”

And true to her word, Y/n does sit on the toilet while Paul showers, reading the information on soap bottles to distract herself from the fact that he was there next to her, very naked. Occasionally he asks her what she’s doing, and she reads the ingredients out loud to the best of her ability, and he laughs a little— she tries to hide her smile, but she was too happy he was laughing.

She closes her eyes when he gets out, letting him dry himself off and pull on some clean shorts. He throws the wet towel at her when he’s done, eliciting a “Hey!” that makes him laugh again.

Now that he’s clean, the two of them descend into his quiet house. Y/n navigates the kitchen, her wolf attached to her hip and being less than helpful, and makes them both something to eat— he doesn’t do much more than stand behind her, wrapped around her, making her life more difficult.

“I’m so happy you came back.” He says, watching her work.

“I was always going to.” Y/n responds, her voice sure and steady.

They talk as they eat, sitting across from one another at the too big table in the Lahote household. Talk about how this was going to work, admitting feelings that always lingered, and everything in between; she hooks her leg around his, watching him scarf down his meal with a wrinkled nose and fondness glittering in her y/e/c eyes.

He’s...gross...but he’s hers, she’s kind of stuck with him.

A date is planned. An actual date.

Paul promises to take her to the local diner (and to wear a shirt, for once.)

“I’ve been saving up for something like this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and you can get that dessert you like.”

Y/n laughs softly, but heat spreads up her neck and settles in her ears and cheeks. It’d been a long time since that had been her favorite food, but it was the thought that counted...

When Cyrus Lahote returns from work later that night his son and the Y/l/n girl are awkwardly situated on his couch— him on his back, snoring, her lying on top of him, face tucked into his neck, also fast asleep. The older man turns off the TV and tosses a blanket over the pair, ascending up the stairs with a smile on his face.

Y/n Y/l/n was trustworthy. She’s always there when Paul is in a rut too big for him to handle...

#paul lahote #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote x reader #twilight wolf pack imagine #twilight wolf pack #twilight fanfiction #eclipse #twilight wolf imagines #embry call #jared cameron #sam uley

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 3 years

Text

Hayloft p.4

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, death, abuse, and sexual assault (depictions of none, though), alcoholism/ drunkenness, mentions of teen pregnancy, mentions of infidelity, murder

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: Pretty lightly edited, just a warning

Read the Previous Chapters!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

“Hey, hun, what can I getcha?” You leaned into your popped hip, pen and notepad in hand.

A man you hadn’t met before, clearly someone just passing through town, was sitting across the diner bar in a light blue button-up and suspenders. He was fairly clean cut save for the day-old scruff across his face. He studied the menu intensely before setting it down and looking up at you with a sweet-as-pie smile. “Can I please have coffee with some cream and the grits?” He asked with a southern drawl.

You scribbled down his order on the notepad, “That all?”

“Mhm, I think so. Thanks doll.” He slid the menu towards you before reaching for a newspaper that had been left on the counter beside him by the last patron. You turned around to pin the man’s order on the little turnstile for the chef when the little bell on the door rang.

Tucking your notepad back into the apron tied around your waist, you grabbed the pot of coffee from the counter and poured the man a cup of the rich black liquid. Next, you prepared a little ceramic cup of cream and walked back to set them on the counter in front of him. His polite thanks were only the background when you saw Arvin walk behind the man and shoot you a smile before settling down in a seat at the bar only a few seats away.

You walked over to him and leaned on the counter with a smile, “Well, hey there stranger. You on lunch already?”

Arvin nodded, looking to you hopefully, “Yeah ‘n I was hopin’ you might be too so I could grab a bite to eat with my favorite girl.”

“Shh!” You hushed him with exasperated wide eyes, like it should have been obvious that he needed to keep his voice down, because in your mind it was. You nodded your head to the other patrons in the diner. “Y’know word travels fast in little towns like this ‘n I don’t need my daddy findin’ out ‘bout us,” you whispered to Arvin who sighed in annoyed understanding. You knew he wasn’t annoyed at you but the situation was less than ideal.

He tapped his fingers on the counter and his knees bounced under the bar, “So is that a no for lunch?”

You glanced over your shoulder to look at the clock that hung on the wall. It was only eleven in the morning but maybe you could ask Charlene if she could cover so you could take an early lunch. “Let me double check real quick.” You held up a finger to excuse yourself into the back to find your coworker.

No more than ten minutes later, you and Arvin walked out to his car with two take-out boxes of burgers you had managed to swipe from the kitchen in hand. He slid into the driver’s seat while you planted yourself beside him in the passenger’s. You handed him one of the boxes of food before opening your own and

digging into the small handful of fries. “So how is your day going so far?”

Arvin took a large bite of his burger, covering his mouth with his hand has he tried to speak and chew at the same time, “Ain’t too bad. I got an engine to rebuild for an old Ford when I get back but nothin’ too terrible. How ‘bout you?”

“Ready to go home already,” you chuckled, popping a fry in your mouth, “But it ain’t too bad here either. Just would like to not be here.”

Arvin laughed a little beside you, “I know how that feels. Thanks for the burgers by the way. I appreciate it. I don’t want you gettin’ in no trouble for stealin’ food.”

You shrugged off his concern, “Don’t worry ‘bout it. If people don’t eat it, it just goes in the trash anyways. I ain’t gonna get in any trouble.”

He let out a heavy breath, resigning to your insistence, which he really just found an adorable confident stubbornness. A comfortable silence fell over the unmoving car as the two of you ate your lunches in the parking lot. When you finished chewing your bite, you looked over at Arvin, “How long you been livin’ with us?”

Arvin looked up at the brick wall straight ahead in thought, “Maybe five months now. Longer than I meant to-"

"I didn't mean it like that! I was just wonderin'...." you got awkwardly quiet for a moment, "Havin' you 'round has been the best five months in a really really long time."

"For me too. When I came into town, I thought I'd be livin' in my car. Didn't know how lucky I'd be gettin' to live with the most beautiful girl in the world." His hand reached over to your thigh, squeezing lightly.

Even after all of his sweet affections and compliments, they never failed to make your cheeks ache from trying not to blush and smile like a schoolgirl. “You really think flattery will get you somewhere?” you giggled teasingly, turning towards him and nudging his leg with your hand.

“Well it got me in your house so…” He teased back, something that he had been doing more often in the last few weeks. Arvin had never been the most humorous of people, aside from the occasional chuckle or hidden smile. That had been changing since the two of you had gotten closer though.

“Uh, no! It might get you kicked outta my house though if my daddy ever finds out.” It started as chuckle but the words faded into concerned worry as you realized how true they could really be.

Arvin sensed the shift, “You really think your daddy would kick me out if he found out ‘bout us?”

You nodded, “Without a doubt. Would probably throw me out too.” You shifted so you were sitting on your bent leg, suddenly uncomfortable.

He began cautiously, “I mean… would that really be such a bad thing?”

You whipped your head to look at him, “I ain’t got nowhere else to live right now. I been savin’ up for a year to move out but it ain’t enough to buy a place of my own yet.”

“How much you got?”

That number was in your head immediately, one that you kept a running total of with every paycheck. “$4,317.” It wasn’t enough, though, and you knew it. Even the old run down houses around town cost $12,000, which meant you weren’t even halfway to the fixer-uppers, not that you minded buying a fixer upper. “I don’t need a mansion or nothin’ but it ain’t nearly enough for even something small.”

Arvin chewed his lip, thinking about the box of cash he’d been stashing away with each of his paychecks as well. He knew exactly what it was like in your position, struggling to save up the money to get on your own feet. He hated relying on others and, even though he really liked you, he hated depending on your and your father for shelter. “You ain’t gonna be stuck in this ol’ town forever,” he promised you and it came out just like that. A promise. “You’re too good for this place.”

Another smile forced its way onto your face at his words of hope, “I’ll get outta here eventually…”

Suddenly, a familiar male voice yelled your name and you flinched. You turned towards the voice to see your boss, Harold, standing at the backdoor of the diner with his hands on his hips. He gave you a stern look and tapped the watch on his wrist before pointing at you then jabbing his thumb over his shoulder towards the door.

“Shit! I totally lost track of time!” You scrambled to gather up the trash from lunch and stuffed it into the paper bag you’d brought it out in. “I’m sorry, I have to run!”

Arvin had nearly jumped out of his skin when your name had been yelled, the only person he’d ever heard calling you that way being your father. He crumbled up the paper wrapper for his burger and stuffed it in the paper bag for you. “‘M sorry. Didn’t mean to get you in trouble with your boss.”

“Nah, he’s fine,” you waved off the worry dismissively, “He acts all tough but he ain’t nothin’ but a softy.” You opened up the door and began to slide out when you stopped and took a quick glance around. Nobody was in the parking lot, or really anywhere in sight for that matter. In an impulsive swift action, you grabbed Arvin by the collar of his greasy shirt and pulled his lips to yours quickly before pushing him before anyone could see.

He looked stunned, big brown eyes wide and shocked by your courageous kiss. Your heart raced and your cheeks flushed with the exhilaration of actually sneaking a kiss to Arvin in public. It was a dangerous move but your dad was at work and there was nobody else around to see. You tried to hide your excited smile by chewing your bottom lip but it didn’t work. “Thanks for lunch, Arv.”

“Uh - y-yeah. Thank you for the burger.” Arvin stumbled over his words while you slid out of the car and closed the door behind you, leaving the poor boy struggling to make his brain catch up to reality.

“See you at home!” You waved one last time before turning. Arvin watched as you jogged back to the entrance of the diner, your little dress bouncing with every movement. You turned to give him one last glance before you disappeared behind the door.

Work had passed rather uneventfully for you. You put in the last few hours of your shift, went to the grocery store, and then headed home to start on dinner.

Arvin, on the other hand, the rest of his day at work had shaken the good feeling he’d had since his lunch break with you. He had found himself with a wrench in hand, trying to bolt back in the engine he’d been rebuilding for the last few hours. Grease smeared across his shirt, pants, and face despite how hard he tried to keep his dirty hands from ruining his clothes. Even if they were work clothes, he didn’t have that many sets of outfits nor the money to go out and buy more.

“My cousin lives o’er there with his wife. Said the sheriff up and disappeared for a while but they found him dead in the woods.”

Arvin’s head nearly hit the hood of the car that was propped up when he heard those words. He looked over his shoulder to see Davis and Fred, two of the other guys that worked at the mechanics shop, talking over two cans of beer.

“You hear anythin’ ‘bout that, Arvin?” Davis asked, sipping his can.

Arvin’s heart twisted in panic but he shook his head like hadn’t heard what they were talking about, “Hear ‘bout what?”

“Few months back, the sheriff in my cousin’s hometown turned up dead. Someone shot ‘im in the woods outside o’ some small town nearby. His name was like Lodeck or Bodecker or somethin’ like that.” Davis explained the story to both of the guys.

“Eh, pro’lly had it comin’,” Your dad came entered from the storage room with a handful of bolts, “I know I’ve met some sheriffs that deserved a bullet between the eyes.”

Fred rolled his eyes, “Yeah well you’re an angry drunk so I’m sure you’d say that ‘bout anyone who took a drink from you. I’m sure this guy wasn’t that bad. What kinda sick fuck you gotta be to shoot a sheriff? This ain’t no wild west movie where you go gunnin’ down the law.”

“Nah, I heard he was a no good son o’ a bitch. Guess his sister and her husband got murdered the day before. Found tons of pictures o’ them kissin’ on some dead guys. Some real sick shit, Fred. Sheriff might have been in on it too. Regardless, my cousin said he ran into ‘im one time with his wife and the sheriff really was a bastard,'' Davis shrugged off Fred’s comment, refuting the tragedy Fred was trying to make Bodecker’s death by tarnishing his name.

Arvin’s heart was racing and he began to feel dizzy. The images of those few days had haunted him since they had happened but he had found himself thinking about it less and less as the days passed.

“Arvin?”

Arvin shook his head out of the clouds and snapped back into reality, “What?”

“You came into town ‘round the same time all this happened. Did you hear anythin’ about it?” Fred questioned, wiping his greasy hands on his jeans.

The young man just shook his head, “Nah, I ain’t heard nothin’ ‘bout it till now. I heard ‘bout the sister though. Sounds like she and her boyfriend were no good.”

“You know what I think?” Your dad began, picking up a wrench and pointing it in Arvin’s direction, “I think our man Arvin here did the sheriff in!”

Arvin stiffened up, “What? Why would you think that?”

“You come strollin’ along through town with nothin’ but a backpack and no backstory ‘bout the same time four people turn up murdered. Mighty suspicious.” Arvin tried his hardest to stand tall and not allow his fear to show but the tension in his jaw was bordering of painful now.

Davis swatted at your dad, “C’mon, leave the boy alone. There’s gotta be thousands of people in that area that coulda murdered them. Can’t imagine Arvin doin’ such a thing.”

Arvin was grateful for Davis’s trust. If only he deserved it.

“I’m only jokin’! Y’all a bunch of whiny little girls, can’t take a fuckin’ joke.” Your dad grumbled to himself, swatting his hand towards his coworkers.

“Ah, shut up.” Fred stood up from the table he’d been sitting at and laid back down on the dolley before sliding under the jacked up Chevy he had been tasked with. “Ain’t nobody ‘round here takes you seriously.”

Arvin watched as your dad walked past Fred, kicking him in the leg and earning a loud exclamation of annoyance, but it was as if he were disconnected from the whole scene. He had tried so hard to forget what had happened back in Knockemstiff and Coal Creek, though it seemed damn near impossible considering it had uprooted his entire life. This tiny town a few hours away was his safe haven, his new beginning. He never would have imagined that anyone this far away would have heard about the murders.

Hearing Davis and Fred bring up Bodecker’s name made Arvin’s blood turn to ice in his veins. What kinda sick fuck you gotta be to shoot a sheriff? Fred’s words played over and over in Arvin’s head. This was just what he was worried about. This was why he ran. Nobody would believe Bodecker was trying to kill him first. Self defense didn’t mean shit when it was against the law. The same with Reverend Teagarden. A man of the word? Arvin didn’t stand a chance if anyone found out what he’d done.

“Hey son,” Davis’s soft voice made Arvin nearly jump out of his skin, “Don’t take nothin’ that ol’ man says to heart. I’m sure you know since you been livin’ with him that he’s just a cranky ol’ drunk who don’t know when to shut up. You’re a good kid, Arvin. Ain’t none of us actually think you did it.”

Arvin looked down at where Davis’s hand rested on his shoulder, the same way his dad used to touch his shoulder when he was reassuring him. He forced a small appreciative nod and a strained appearance of being unbothered, “It’s alright, Davis. I know he’s just kiddin’ ‘round. I ‘ppreciate it though.”

Your father arrived at home before Arvin, much to your dismay. Elvis Presley’s Blue Hawaii album was spinning on the record player when he came into the kitchen, kicking his boots off by the door.

“Hey, daddy! How was work?” You asked, mashing a bowl of potatoes for dinner.

He made a line directly to the fridge, grabbing a beer and popping the tab off with no effort, “It was alright. Damn Gilligan blew out the transmission on his truck so I been stuck fixin’ that up all day. Lookin’ forward to this right here.” Your father lifted up the beer bottle and sipped it with satisfaction. Yeah, I’m sure you were, you thought, rolling your eyes with your back turned to your dad.

“Well, if you wanna get cleaned up, dinner should be ready in about twenty minutes. More than enough time for a shower,” you offered with a cheerful voice. Lunch with Arvin today had made your day good in a way that was hard to ruin.

“Yeah, I might go do that. What’s for dinner?” Your father walked over and peeked over your shoulder to see what you had cooking on the stove.

“Mashed potatoes, green beans, and chicken.” You cut in a few slices of butter and added them to the bowl of mashed potatoes, sprinkling some salt, pepper, and garlic powder to taste.

Expecting some words of discouragement like you usually earned from your father, he just nodded contently and disappeared out of the kitchen towards the bathroom. You turned to watch him walk away, your mouth fallen open in pleased surprise at the fact that you just had a semi-pleasant interaction with your father for the first time in several weeks. You turned back to mixing in the now melted butter into the mashed potatoes when the front door opened yet again.

You looked back to see Arvin walking in through the living room, “Hey, Arv!”

His hands were shoved deep in his pockets and judging by the way his eyes shot up to you, as if he hadn’t expected your greeting, he had been staring at the ground when he walked in. “Hi,” he answered low and short with no emotion one way or the other.

Your brows furrowed, “Everythin’ alright?” Leaving the food on the counter and wiping your hands on your apron, you walked out into the living room towards him.

Arvin visibly took a step back and his eyes widened a little, his shoulders squaring up, “Yeah, ‘m good. Just wanna take a shower.”

Before you could get the words out, he had already begun walking away. “My dad’s already in the bathroom,” you called out after him, finally getting him to stop.

Arvin didn’t turn back to you though, only half glanced over his shoulder, “Oh, alright.” He turned back to continue his walk back to his room.

“Dinner will be ready soon!” You attempted to add, only earning a small thanks in response and the sound of Arvin’s door closing. “O-oh… okay.” You stood alone in the living room, the sound of running water coming from the bathroom and Elvis Presley’s voice filling the room but not loud enough to drown out your concern.

Dinner went by just as uncomfortably. You poked at your mashed potatoes, keeping your gaze stuck down at the food on your plate except for when you glanced over at Arvin who seemed to be actively looking anywhere except for you. This only made you roll your eyes out of frustration and stare back down at your food.

Your dad talked about his day, mostly grumbled complaints, “I don’t get nearly ‘nough respect ‘round here. Damn Fred and Davis callin’ me a drunk. What? A man can’t enjoy a damn beer without being called a drunk! Damn prudes.” When you didn’t respond, he reached over and tapped your arm, “Hey? You even listenin’?”

“Hm?” You tried to make yourself focus on what he was saying this time, “Sorry, long day. What happened?”

“See? I ain’t get no respect at work and I can’t even get no respect at my own damn house from my own damn daughter!” He grumbled, the feet of the wooden chair scraping against the ground as he stood up forcefully, swaying a little side to side but bracing himself on the wall to walk out of the room.

You didn’t even possess the mental capacity to care about his little tantrum. Your mind was swimming with confusion and, honestly, anger, at Arvin’s little unexplained silent treatment. “Okay, what’s wrong?” You asked, leaning towards Arvin.

“Nothin’.” He answered simply, taking a sip of his water. His voice was low and he still refused to make eye contact, despite nothin’ being wrong.

“That’s a lie. Everythin’ was fine this mornin’ and now you’re suddenly not talkin’ to me. Won’t even look at me! What the hell, Arvin? Did I say somethin’ wrong?” Thinking back, there wasn’t anything you had said earlier that you could imagine warranting such a negative response from Arvin so your confusion and concern had quickly turned to frustration.

Arvin shook his head, “No, no, you ain’t did nothin’ wrong.”

“Then what is it?” You practically begged him to tell you. You hated being upset at him when clearly something was bothering him but this felt like he was just playing some broody guessing game with you, something you got enough of from your dad.

Stress shone through Arvin’s eyes and he met your gaze finally, if only for a second, before looking away again. You could see there was a flicker of something you hadn’t seen in him before but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Whatever it was, it was really bothering him and you felt guilty for being upset. You just couldn’t understand why you suddenly were being ignored for something that apparently had nothing to do with you.

“I can’t tell you.”

Arvin’s admittal just made you more upset. “So you’re not mad at me but you’re ignoring me and can’t tell me why?”

Arvin hadn’t seen you look at him this way. At your father, yes, but he was unaccustomed to that raised eyebrow and frustratedly desperate crack in your voice being directed towards him. He hated it. He hated knowing that he was causing you to feel upset and helpless when he was supposed to be your escape from those exact feelings.

But he couldn’t bring himself to tell you the truth. You’d think he was a monster. You’d hate him. He’d lose the one good thing he had in his life because-

Arvin shook his head, “‘M sorry.” He looked anywhere but at you because he couldn’t stand to see the way your face fell, though he could practically feel your heart fall from across the table. He didn’t need to see it. He knew.

“Fine.” You stood up and grabbed your plate, scraping the rest in the garbage and setting the plate in the sink. Your appetite was gone and your patience had snapped, not that you had been the most patient thus far anyways.

Arvin watched as you stormed out of the kitchen, grabbed your coat off the coat rack by the front door, and walked out of the house. His head hit his hands. No matter how hard he tried to protect those he cared about, he only seemed to hurt them more.

You hadn’t expected Arvin to find you here so when the door opened to the old barn, you turned around in surprise. You were curled up in your coat, sitting on an old wooden crate that had been untouched in this unused barn for God knows how long. A large window looked out over the large field that had once been the family farm but was now practically a glorified dirt lot. Your coat was wrapped tightly around your body, held in place with one hand while you held a lit cigarette with the other.

“Didn’t know you smoked,” Arvin took a few steps in, his hands shoved guiltily in the pocket of his denim jacket.

You blew out a large plume of smoke that you had been holding in and looked away, “I don’t too often.”

Arvin closed the barn door behind him as he approached you and you had to fight the urge to get up and leave but you knew that made you no less immature than the way you felt he was acting.

“‘M sorry. I really am.”

You took another drag and turned to him, the moonlight illuminating his features - somehow so boy-like but so rugged - and it was hard to stay mad at him. “I am too. I don’t mean to be dramatic but I just… I don’t understand, Arv. If somethin’s wrong, you can tell me. This whole silent treatment BS with zero explanation doesn’t cut it.”

Arvin let out a heavy breath. While doing the dishes from dinner for you after you stormed off, he had had time to contemplate what to do. And he had decided. “If I tell you, it’s gonna change how you look at me.”

Your head tilted up at his cryptic opener but you said nothing, only urged him to continue with your eyes.

With a deep shaky inhale, he started his story, “I ain’t a bad man but I’ve done some bad things. Things that I thought I could run away from. I been livin’ a lie for a long time, actin’ like I ain’t hurt nobody, but it ain’t true.” Arvin paused for a moment to gauge your reaction and all he saw was fear in your eyes, just as he had feared.

A million thoughts of terrible things people were capable of ran through your head as you tried to figure out which one Arvin could possibly be guilty of, though they all felt so out of character for him. Was it murder? Assault? Rape? Thievery? The man you had come to care for so deeply now swam in a murky pool of doubt and distrust. Arvin saw all this and more in your deep, worried eyes.

“What did you do?” Your voice was weaker than you wanted it to be, cracking with fear. Until today, you hadn’t imagined Arvin capable of doing anything that could real harm to anyone, maybe aside from a stupid fight in high school or something along those lines, but you could see it in his eyes that whatever it was he was trying to confess to really was that bad.

Arvin lost his ability to speak for a moment. He had resolved to tell you everything before even coming out here to talk to you but the fear shining in your eyes already had his heart breaking. It was as if every new line of moonlight reflecting off the growing whites of your eyes was a new stain that he managed to tarnish your view of him with. Arvin had to look away because he couldn’t bear to look at you when he finally admitted his crimes, couldn’t stand to watch your face contort in fear when you realized what a monster he was.

“Y-you remember that preacher I told you ‘bout? The one that hurt my sister?”

You nodded, “Y-yeah…”

Arvin swallowed hard and he gripped his thigh tight enough to turn his knuckles white. “Well few weeks after we buried Lenora, a police officer came up ‘n told me the coroner had found out she was havin’ a baby. None of us knew before. I don’t know how but I just knew it was that no good preacher. I didn’t have any proof though so I started followin’ ‘im ‘n found out he was worse than I thought. He was no good to his wife ‘n I saw him out takin' advantage of another girl in town who was even younger than my Lenora was. He was doin’ nothin’ but hurtin’ people ‘n I… I killed im.”

Your mouth fell open, “You- You killed him?”

Arvin looked down at his feet, “I shot him.”

It was silent as you processed the information. This preacher sounded like a terrible man, abusing young girls and leading one to commit suicide. The infidelity to his wife was a moot point against his other indiscretions and even that was unacceptable. It honestly sounded like Arvin had done a service to the world, taking this monster out of it, but it was still difficult to look at him the same after knowing that he had actually shot someone.

When you didn’t respond, Arvin had decided to continue, not thinking he could cause much more damage, “I ran. Left a note for my grandma and uncle and disappeared. I tried hitchhiking my way out of town when I got picked by this couple. They seemed nice ‘nough at first but the husband, he started actin’ real weird. They pulled us way off the road. Said he wanted to take some pictures but then I saw him pull out a gun and then he tried pullin’ me outta the car. I-I panicked and I kicked the door into him ‘n I shot ‘im before he could get me.”

Arvin’s voice was cracking as tears began to fall down his face. It was one thing to replay the memories in his own head but it was another thing entirely to actually confess his sins to someone he cared so deeply about, knowing the truth would most likely hurt you. “The wife, she pulled out a gun and pointed it at me ‘n I pointed mine at her. I begged her to put the gun down. I-I didn’t wanna shoot her. I really didn’t. I was so tired of killin’ but then she apologized ‘n I knew she was gonna pull the trigger. We both shot at the same time. I got no clue how she didn’t shoot me. I fell out the car without a scratch but I when I got up, I realized I got her through the neck 'n she was gone. I panicked ‘n searched the car. Found all these pictures of her all naked and huggin’ up on some naked dead guy ‘n I knew… I knew I was gonna be next.”

Your brain sprinted a mile a minute to try and keep up with the trauma Arvin was confessing and you didn’t know whether to hug him and let him cry on you or run as far away as possible.

“Then-”

“There’s more?” You wanted to beg him to stop talking, to stop telling you about the blood on his hands, to stop telling you about all the suffering he had been through. You sounded shocked and heartbroken and yet none of these tragedies were yours.

Arvin hiccuped and sniffled in a failed attempt to hide a sob. Red had taken over his features, both physically and metaphorically. Obviously distraught by his past and now your reaction, he felt like he was beginning to spiral down that hole of darkness that he had tried so hard to claw his way out of. There were nothing but snakes down there, ready to bite him and poison his mind with the words he had fought so desperately to keep out. Murderer. Stalker. Liar. Sinner. All of these and so many more.

Yet, he nodded, feeling as if he’d still be lying if he didn’t finish telling you everything. When he nodded, you made a small squeak of disbelief.

“I-I ran,” He sniffled out, “I hitchhiked my way back to my old hometown. I didn’t know why at first but I just needed to go home. Felt like maybe I could fix what had been broken there. Went there to find it all burnt down but then this sheriff came lookin’ after me. Turns out he was that lady’s brother - the one who shot at me and had the pictures of the cut up dead guys. He was all angry and wanted to kill me for shootin’ his sister. I tried… I tried to tell ‘im that she was no good and that she was gonna kill me but he didn’t wanna listen. He was shootin’ at me and… and… I ain’t had no choice.”

It was silent, aside from the ambient bugs chirping outside. You had tried so hard to focus on Arvin’s face but you had long since zoned out visually, only able to focus on the words he was saying. How could he have gone through all of this? How could your wonderful, amazing, beautiful Arvin Russell have survived so much suffering and been forced to murder people? Murder.

“Please say somethin’.”

Your lips quivered as your vision came back into view and all you saw was a tearful, fearful, remorseful boy before you on the brink of falling apart. Arvin’s hair was messy from having run his hands through it, his eyes were red and puffy from the tears, his breathing was shaky from remembering. There were no words.

You threw your arms around his neck and held him tightly to you. You didn’t know what else to do. How does someone respond to information like this? There was so much trust that Arvin needed to put in you to tell you - you couldn’t freak out.

“You don’t hate me?” His hands flew to your arms, prying them off his neck so he could see your face.

Your head shook, “How could I hate you for what you did?”

“I murdered four people.”

“You took out a disgusting predator who practically killed your sister and was harming who knows how many other girls. Then you killed a couple of murderers who pulled guns on you first in self defense. And then, yet again, you were put in a life or death situation with a sheriff who was shootin’ at you for killin’ his murderin’ sister. Three of those were self defense and I’d dare say that first one was a public service. You have nothin’ to be sorry for. You have nothin’ to regret. You did what you had to do to survive.” You squeezed Arvin’s hands tightly, running your soft thumbs over the lightly calloused skin of his knuckles.

Arvin looked down at your hands on his, hands that were so much smaller than his own but right now felt so encompassing and comforting, as if they wrapped his own in a blanket of protection. He couldn’t believe you were okay with this. He was barely okay with it. “I don’t regret it but I didn’t wanna have to do it. If I coulda let that lady go, if she only woulda listened to me ‘n put the gun down I wouldn’t o’ had to pull the trigger. I coulda let the cops deal with it. Same with the sheriff. If only he woulda listened… I only wanted to shoot the preacher. I was okay with havin’ that on my conscience. But I had no idea how outta control that day was gonna get. All those cold dead eyes starin’ up at you, watchin’ the life drain from someone’s face ‘n knowin’ you’re the one who caused that... Even if they were real fucked up people, it ain’t a sight that’s easy to see.”

“I can’t even imagine what it must’ve been like, Arvin.” Your hand slid up his arm to rest on his bicep and you leaned your forehead onto his shoulder. His arm snaked around your body and held you close but cautious, like he was scared if he held you too tightly that you’d be scared he’d hurt you too. Of course, you weren’t. The thought did cross your mind that perhaps it was unwise to trust a man who just admitted to killing four people but that wasn’t Arvin and you knew it. “You may have killed people but that does not make you a killer. You’re just someone who was put in some really hard situations and had to make some tough choices.”

You pulled back and put your hand on his cheek, slightly scratchy from not shaving that day, and you spoke gently, “You are wonderful, Arvin. You are caring and hard working and loyal and willing to stand up for what is right. You are everything good in this world-”

“I hurt people-”

“You protect people,” you corrected, “‘N if some bad people had to get hurt to keep the good ones safe, well maybe they shouldn’t have been such bad people.”

Arvin could have melted into a puddle at your feet, and likely would have if you hadn’t been holding him. Never had he expected to tell anyone his terrible deeds and in every imagined scenario in which he did, it had never ended well. He had imagined you running for the hills, screaming at him to get out, maybe even threatening him physically out of fear that he’d hurt you now (which he’d never dream of doing).

But you didn’t do any of that. Gentleness and understanding were far from the reaction he’d expected or even felt like he deserved but nevertheless here you were holding him and reassuring him that he wasn’t the monster he’d called himself for so many months.

“I love you.”

His admission surprised you but Arvin felt fully confident in his words. He had never known what love felt like - romantic love at least - but this was damn near the closest thing he could imagine to it. You occupied his thoughts every waking moment, your face and your voice swimming around his imagination in a beautiful ocean of warmth and kindness and goodness that he would gladly drown in. You were strong and responsible and understanding and oh so beautiful. Much like him, you’d been handed a shit hand by life and struggled each day to make the best of it. Arvin cared about you so much it scared him because he had not felt this compulsion towards anyone since Lenora had passed. After losing everything he’d ever loved, he was scared that if he admitted that he loved you, life would take you away from him as well. If there was one thing that you did, though, it was take away Arvin’s fear.

“I love you too, Arvin.” He pulled your body flush against his when you responded, a heavy sigh of relief leaving his chest. Much like Arvin, you hadn’t known what real love felt like. You’d even started believing that maybe you weren’t meant for such a luxury.

Now you and Arvin felt like the richest people in the world, despite having almost nothing to your names. As long as you were in each others’ arms, you had everything. You were each others’ trust, honesty, comfort, compassion, and protection.

_______

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@peterswebshooters

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@mathletemadison

#arvin #arvin russell #arvin russel imagine #arvin russel imagines #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel x you #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #the devil all the time #tdatt smut #tdatt fanfiction #tdatt imagine #tdatt x reader #hayloft

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q-gorgeous · 2 years

Text

Phantom Hunting

Prompt: Danny, Sam, and Tucker go ghost hunting in an abandoned house, but find themselves biting off more than they can chew. (PR235) by @library-of-cronos

Word Count: 1954

ao3

ffn

look another one you guys

There were legends about the house on Raven Road in the city of Adamsville, Wisconsin. About how the ghost would attack any person who trespassed inside the building, how territorial it was. Only one or two people had ever been able to talk to the ghost and make it out unscathed. Danny had thought this would be the perfect place to go ghost hunting. There was only one thing.

The house was empty. The ghost from all those legends was no longer there.

“This blows. What happened to the ghost that’s supposed to be living here?” Sam said as she pushed aside a dusty curtain and looked out through the front window. “When were all these stories from anyways?”

Tucker squinted at his PDA. “It looked like the last recorded sighting of this ghost was in the late 70s. After an army of men in white suits stormed the town.”

“What?” Danny said, turning to face Tucker.

“Yeah.” Tucker scrolled down. “This newspaper clipping says that one day all these guys showed up and eradicated the town’s ghost population. Only a few made it out.”

“The GIW have been around since the 70s?” Sam asked. “They didn’t seem to know what they were doing when we met them the first time. How have they been an established organization that long?”

“Forget the GIW, what happened to all the ghosts?” Danny said. “This town was full of ghosts bound to it, a lot of them couldn’t have just left.”

“Unless they were taken.” Tucker said quietly.

The three of them headed back into town. They went asking around about what had happened when the GIW stormed the town. Many of the townsfolk were apprehensive to talk about it but they all said the same things. That ghosts lived among the humans with their loved ones before the ghost raid, the town was filled with them. One person gave them a more detailed story though.

An army of white suited men had rushed into town. They had captured almost all the ghosts. Some had gotten away, but both ghosts and humans had disappeared that day. Some they had never seen again.

There was one ghost that they believed still resided in the town, even through the raid. The one in the abandoned house on Hollow Road. Its address wasn’t on any maps and no one had seen any of the white suited men go down that old dirt road, so they had assumed the ghost that lived there had been left alone. That it had been the last one that still resided in town, though no one had wanted to check.

The house on Raven Road was your typical “right of passage” to adulthood that every teenager went through in this town. But ever since the ghost disappeared, there were no other houses they were willing to sneak into to get that adrenaline rush. The house on Hollow Road was rumored to be that dangerous.

But that was where Danny, Sam, and Tucker were headed right now.

“I wonder why the ghosts that were living here seem to be so different from the ghosts in Amity Park.” Sam said as she looked over Tucker’s shoulder at the notes on his PDA. “The ghosts in Amity Park are a lot more volatile, but they’re not bound anywhere. From what the townsfolk said, there are ghosts that were bound to specific locations here, that couldn’t leave even if they wanted to.”

“I mean.” Danny started as he kicked a rock in his path. “Technically we’ve seen that already with Sidney. He was stuck in his own purgatory in the ghost zone.”

“But he got out eventually.” Tucker said. “He wasn’t bound to it forever. Maybe he didn’t ever really think about leaving until you showed up. Maybe he could’ve left anytime before that if he really wanted to.”

They walked up to the end of the dirt road and looked up at the old, faded street sign. The dirt road was so overgrown with weeds, grass, and wildflowers that if the sign hadn’t been there, they wouldn’t have ever expected a road to be hiding underneath. “Maybe it was the way the ghosts died that plays a part in it.” Sam said as they started pushing their way through the plants. “It seemed like most of the ghosts in this town were family members of the humans living here, so maybe they didn’t need to have a horrible death to stick around and that’s what binds them here.”

“But they could roam freely around town like the ghosts in Amity Park could.” Tucker countered. “But the ghosts that lived in the abandoned houses were bound to those buildings alone. They couldn’t go anywhere else. So what decides whether or not a ghost can roam or is bound to a place?”

Danny takes Tucker’s PDA from him and starts writing down more of their new questions. “That’s what we’re here to figure out. Maybe if we can figure out how ghosts actually work, we can help them move on instead of fighting them all the time.”

“If that’s even possible.” Sam said. “We have such a weird mix of ghost science and the traditional idea of ghosts that we don’t know if it would even work on all of them.”

“Random thought.” Tucker said as he pushed through the last of the tall grass. “Could there be more than one type of ghost?”

Sam snorted. “What? A ghost’s a ghost.”

“Yeah but why are the traits that they have so wildly different from one region to the next? We’ve seen a whole civilization of ghost yetis in the ghost zone, could that not count as a whole separate species of ghost?”

“Maybe it makes a difference if a ghost was born to the zone? We know that can happen because of Box Lunch. They wouldn’t be bound to a human place if they weren’t born there.”

“But we know ghosts in Amity Park who have died.” Danny points at himself as he walks up to the front door. “And they’re not bound to a place. But what is the difference?”

Sam walks up next to him. “That’s what we’re here to figure out right?” She turns the door knob and pushes the door open.

On the inside is a dusty, fallen apart living room. The furniture had holes and the curtains were ripped apart and shredded. As they walked along the floor, they kicked up debris and dirt. Tucker pulled the door shut behind them and it echoed through the house.

They all stood still for a minute, waiting for anything to happen. Looking around for any sign of the ghost that was supposed to inhabit the house. Sam groaned.

“Is this another empty house? How are we gonna do any research if every house we go to is empty?”

“Sam, we haven’t even been in the house for five minutes yet. We should probably just look around first. It’s not like the ghost will just pop out at us as soon as we enter the door.”

“The last ghost was supposed to.”

“Sam-”

Danny walked away as Sam and Tucker started bickering with one another. He slowly walked down a short hallway and when he came out the other side there was a big staircase waiting for him at the center of the room. Between each baluster were cobwebs collecting dust and bugs. The walls all over this room were covered in scratch marks that went deep into the walls.

“Uh, Sam, Tucker?” Danny called over his shoulder. “You might want to come in here.”

They follow in behind him and Danny hears them gasp when they enter the room. Danny sees them looking around, their eyes following the scratch marks in the walls.

“What happened here?” Sam whispered.

“Where’s the ghost?” Tucker asked.

A chill crawled up Danny’s spine. He squeezed his eyes shut and shivered and when he opened them back up, someone was standing at the top of the staircase.

His eyes widen and he points at the top of the stairs. “Look, there’s the ghost.”

Both Sam and Tucker look up but their brows furrow.

“Dude, there’s no one there.” Tucker said.

“What? No, he’s standing right there.”

“Danny, your ghost sense didn’t even go off.” Sam said, crossing her arms. “Don’t joke like that.”

“I’m not joking!” Danny said, pulling out his parent’s ghost tracker. “See, look-”

He turned it on and there was no trace of an ectoplasmic reading.

Danny’s brows furrowed. “This can’t be right. He’s standing right up there. Staring at me.”

“Menacingly?” Tucker asked.

Danny shot him a look.

“No ghost sense, no pickup on the tracker, are you sure you haven’t finally lost it?” Sam said.

“I haven’t-”

“W H E R E A R E T H E Y?!”

A deep voice boomed throughout the whole house. It rattled the balusters on the stairs and the floorboards. The three of them covered their ears as they ducked, avoiding the dust falling from the ceiling.

“What the fuck?” Sam shouted, her hands still over her ears.

“W H E R E A R E T H E Y?!”

“Where is the ghost now, Danny?” Tucker yelled. He stepped a little closer to Danny and Sam did the same.

“He’s still standing at the top of the stairs! He hasn’t even moved!”

New scratches started carving themselves into the walls and the building creaked.

“W H A T D I D Y O U D O W I T H T H E M?!”

Danny pulled his hands away from his ears and looked back up at the ghost. “What?”

“Who is this ghost looking for?” Sam said as she grabbed onto Danny’s arm.

The entire building started rumbling, the cacophony coming to a crescendo as the ghost finally moved from the stairs and shot towards Danny’s face. He backed away from it, Sam and Tucker following. Their eyes were wide, darting all over the ghost’s face. It looked like they could finally see it.

“W H A T D I D Y O U D O W I T H M Y C H I L D R E N?!”

The ghost's jaw unhinged and it swiped at them. Danny pushed the three of them out of the way and the wall behind them was knocked down.

“Danny, I think it’s time to go!” Tucker shouted.

“Right!” Danny transformed and grabbed Sam and Tucker around their waists and flew into the air and through the walls. The ghost’s roars suddenly disappeared as they flew through the outer wall of the house, like it had never been there in the first place.

“What the hell?” Sam shouted after Danny had dropped them in the grass. “Why didn’t that ghost set off your ghost sense? Or the tracker? Why couldn’t we see it?”

“What if it wasn’t even a ghost?” Tucker said, pacing through the dirt. “What if it was a demon? Do those exist?”

“I don’t know. Can demons have kids?” Danny asked.

“Ghosts can have kids and they’re dead.” Sam pointed out.

Danny sighed. “This didn’t really answer any of the questions we had. Now we just have even more.”

“I don’t know about you.” Tucker said as he started walking back down the overgrown road. “But I’m ready to get out of Wisconsin.”

“Ditto.” Danny and Sam said, following behind Tucker.

Another shiver crawled up Danny’s spine as he took one last look at the house. Through the window he could see a hand pressed against the glass. His stomach dropped and he turned back around.

The feeling of dread would follow him all the way home.

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