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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 11 months

Text

Ikemen Sengoku - Kicho

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support Cybird by buying their stories. Expect grammatical errors.

TW: Slightly Suggestive

Mai: “Masamune!?”

Masamune: “I heard about the incident in town.”

Masamune: “If Kicho finds out I’m here, it could cause a lot of trouble. Can you let me in quietly?”

Mai: “Okay. Wait a sec!”

I tied the rope I found in the room to a sturdy post and threw it out the window.

I then helped Masamune climb the wall and led him to the sofa in the room.

Masamune: “Things are getting pretty crazy, huh?”

Mai: “Yeah.”

Masamune stopped by Sakai for official business and came to check on us when he heard the rumors.

Masamune: “I heard from a guard that a maid was actually attacked yesterday.”

Mai: “Yeah. That's why I decided not to work and took a day off.”

I opened up about the work Kicho had assigned me to do, and after listening to what I had to say, Masamune narrowed his eye and smirked.

Masamune: “Is Kicho that desperate to lock you in a room?”

Mai: “N-Now’s not the time to focus on that.”

I naturally slumped my shoulders, feeling both embarrassed and perplexed.

Masamune: “So, what do you want to do?”

Mai: “Me?”

Masamune: “Setting aside Kicho’s intentions, what do you want to do about the current situation?”

Masamune asked me seriously, and my heart skipped a beat.

(I haven’t really thought about what I want for myself.)

(I’m scared and anxious, but more than that, I’m worried about Kicho.)

I took a moment to reflect on my feelings and emotions.

Masamune: “It looks like you already have your answer.”

Mai: “Yeah. I...”

(If I don’t leave the room, Kicho will feel relieved.)

(I won’t be next to him if something happens.)

Mai: “I don’t want to stay like this. I need to do something.”

Masamune: “Then it’s settled.”

Masamune: “I’ll be your bodyguard. We’ll find the culprit ourselves.”

Mai: “What!? I thought you were on official business一”

Masamune: “This kind of detour shouldn’t be a problem.”

He stated it so clearly that I had no choice but to agree.

(I’m honestly grateful because I can only do so much on my own.)

(Though Masamune might be in danger if we encounter the culprit.)

Mai: “Why are you helping me?”

Masamune: “I'm worried because you're not smiling.”

Mai: “Thank you.”

Masamune: “Do you know Kicho’s plans for tonight?”

Mai: “He’ll be gone until dawn for a meeting.”

Masamune: “Perfect. In that case, I’ll pick you up again later tonight.”

Masamune: “We’ll go on patrol to see if any suspicious men are lurking around the trading post or in town.”

Mai: “Okay!”

By the time Masamune left the room through the window, the sun had started to set.

As I put away the rope and closed the window, almost simultaneously, the door opened.

Kicho: “Did you hear any noise just now?”

I desperately tried my best not to flinch in surprise.

Mai: “I just shut the window, so I guess that’s what you heard.”

Kicho: “..........”

(What should I do? I feel like he’s getting suspicious!)

(If he finds out about Masamune, he’ll know I’m going out tonight.)

(I need to find a way to cover it up somehow!)

I struggled to come up with a good idea as my anxiety made my thoughts spin in circles. Then he slowly approached me.

Kicho: “Your smell has changed.”

Mai: “What does that mean一Waah!?”

As I stopped and pondered the words he muttered, he suddenly hugged my shoulders.

Mai: “Kicho...?”

Kicho: “I knew it.”

He buried his face in my neck to check my scent, and he immediately pulled away and spoke up.

Kicho: “Who was here? No one in the trading post should have this scent.”

Mai: “That’s...”

I involuntarily stepped back, and he closed the distance between us by two steps.

After a few more times of this exchange, I fell onto the bed.

Mai: “K-Kicho, wait.”

Kicho: “I’m not going to wait any longer than I have to for your safety.”

Mai: “Ah...”

Before I could even get up, he quickly climbed onto the bed and pinned me down.

Kicho: “If you intend to remain silent, there are other ways to make you say it yourself.”

Mai: “No…ah…”

My voice trembled as he stroked my sensitive areas to show he was serious.

When his fingers approached the sensitive spot he knew so well, I hurriedly shook my head.

Mai: "I-It's not like that. Actually..."

Mai: "I got curious about the new perfume, so I sprayed some on myself!"

Kicho: "........."

Mai: "Sorry for using the sample without permission."

(Good thing I saw a sample perfume when I sorted through the documents earlier.)

(I think this is the most acceptable explanation, but will he buy it?)

I looked up at him with a feeling akin to waiting for a verdict.

Kicho: "As long as it's a sample and not an actual product, you can use it however you like."

Kicho: "Let me know if there's a specific scent you like. I'll give it to you as a gift."

Mai: "Thank you."

I felt relieved seeing him looking convinced and relaxed.

He then stroked the corners of my eyes with his fingertips, and his eyes suddenly darkened.

Kicho: "When I look into your eyes, I can't help but think that you might do something reckless."

Mai: “Huh? Ah...”

His fingers sank into my unguarded and unprotected spot, turning my question into a sweet sigh.

Mai: “Wait...ahh...Kicho...”

Kicho: “Mai.”

I became increasingly aroused by his relentless, teasing fingers, and all I could do was cling to him desperately.

Mai: “Mn.”

As night fell, I finally woke up, having fallen asleep due to exhaustion.

(There’s no one here. Kicho probably left for the business meeting already.)

Kicho: “Don’t go anywhere until I return in the morning.”

Kicho’s voice, which I heard just before I fell asleep, came back to me vaguely.

(But it’s almost time to meet with Masamune.)

Mai: “I have to get ready.”

I tried to get up but felt a pulling sensation and ended up sitting back down.

At that moment, I finally realized that my right wrist was bound and tied to the bedpost.

Mai: “No way.”

(The rope is only long enough to reach the edge of the bed.)

(I won’t be able to contact Masamune at this rate. What should I do?)

I tried to untie the rope, but couldn’t even loosen the knot with my left hand alone.

*Clack*

(Hm?)

Suddenly, I heard the window open, and a slight breeze blew into the room.

Hoping it might be Masamune, I looked towards the source of the sound, only to find an unfamiliar man standing there.

Man: "I finally found you. So you're the woman of the head of this trading post, huh?"

Mai: "----!"

He put a sack over my head without even giving me a chance to shout.

(Kicho...)

I called out the name of my beloved in my fading consciousness.

Kicho was on his way to a business meeting when a shadow blocked him.

Kicho: "Masamune."

Masamune: "I know what's going on. And I'm here to ask you what you want to do about it."

Shot through by his one eye reflecting the moonlight, Kicho quietly opened his mouth.

Kicho: "I..."

Part 1┆Part 2┆Premium End┆Epilogue

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen kicho #ikesen #ikesen kichou #ikesen jp #cybird #ikesen masamune #ikesen translations

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crow-caller · 2 months

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Also terribly sorry to send a second one so quickly but I hadn't scrolled yet. I see you're an indie author, and judging by the pinned post, at least privately published. How'd you do it? I've had two hundred years worth of an alt history dieselpunk lowfantasy world's lore knocking around in my brain but cannot for the life of me seem to get it cohesive enough to put words on my annoyingly blank Google document.

I am not a wild author success story but that might make my advice more approachable.

(I did a post on types of publishing and some very basic advice as someone who's done it, self and indie, with three books. That's here (I'll honestly reblog it again too in a sec) )

I think you're asking more though just on how I write. Hm. Well.

At the moment, I don't write much- 2018 was when Bad End came out, and beyond working on 1dg manuscript, I haven't had another full book since then. If I say 'that's six years' I may want to explode my bones, but it has been. The thing with writing advice, as in how to just do it, is... it's hard and devastatingly unique for everyone. I have an overflow of ideas right now, and I've been stuck on the same issue of starting and organizing it- as well as a panic over being a good enough writer.

Personally, I tend to work on a few keystone ideas and improvise in the moment. I decide the world and the main character and a few cool notions I want to incorporate or lead to, and set out. I find it takes a few thousand words or chapters to Get The Hang Of a writing project. It's one thing to imagine a cool world, it's another to try and write a character interacting in it, and just that experience of trying often leads to me changing my mind about a bunch of stuff.

I really like beginnings and endings, so I usually have them in mind when writing. If you don't have that, you can always start clumsily and revise later. Once you have started a narrative, it's much easier to think about your ideas in terms of that project rather than the blob of potential paths.

Still, how do you FIRST start? You have a world built up, so you have a status quo. A book usually starts with that status quo being challenged. A character leads a peaceful life, but a stranger arrives. Something strange is sighted in the salt flats. Someone finally quits their job.

The people in your world are used to the grand world you've built. They won't talk about how it works to each other and infodumping is awkward. So start instead with something being different and you'll find it much easier to explain how it ought to go. Also, read books. You should read mortal engines by the way. everyone should but it sounds relevant to your interests.

This has been some advice on starting books because I could ramble a lot more (and have, and have deleted) but I should call it somewhere.

#sometimes theres asks

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scarlettriot · 3 years

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Stood Up

You (Y/N) get stood up from a date and Kaminari decides to do something about it.

Pairing: Kaminari/F!Reader

Contains: Fluff, Flirty Denki, Established BakuSquad Friendship

Warnings: 18+ Below the cut, Minors DNI! Swearing, Electro-Stim, Overstimulation, use of pet names (cuddle bug & cutie), oral (F receiving), consensual recording

A/N: Well, here we are with the third in my Stood Up series. There is also Bakugo & Kirishima if you're interested. This one took me way too long and it's also my first time writing Kaminari at length. I hope you all like it :)

Word Count Starting Below: 2,461

You slipped your foot into the silver heels you had picked out. Something a little fancier since this was a first date after all and you wanted to make a lasting impression. Not only that but this was your first first date in a while. Being a Pro Hero made life busy and dating difficult.

Practically the entire day leading up to this very moment revolved around you either getting ready or babbling with excitement to your closest friends.

An alert chimed on your phone with a text from your date, a smile sliding onto your face expecting to read some message about how they were on their way and that they'd see you soon, but that wasn't what you were met with.

Instead, it was a screenshot of your Instagram page, multiple of them actually, all of you and the ridiculous photos you took with your friends but mostly with one Denki Kaminari. The most recent of which was from a tea shop he met you at just earlier that day so you could show him the shoes for your date.

The message below was simple and more than enough to leave a sour taste in your mouth, this isn't what I want to see when I'm supposed to be taking you out tonight. What, one date a day isn't enough? Why are you even dating? Does your blonde boyfriend know?

You giggled at what they were implying, quick to explain how these were all your friends, they had been since high school! They are people you spent what little free time you had with. Especially Denki, your best friend since you were 15!

That joy you felt started dissipating within the next few messages. You hadn't even had a first date and they were already jealous, and that was something you didn't have room for in your life. So, you slipped the heels off your feet and put them directly back in the box to return when you had the time. Tight black jeans and fitted top were exchanged with a hoodie and sweats although your makeup and hair stayed done, you didn't have the energy to undo your hard work.

Instead, you slid back into your computer chair, your headset snuggly back on your ears and before you notified everyone you were back online, you took a moment listening to the chatter of your friends.

"Shitty Hair! Fuckin' pay attention!"

"Yeah, man! We're getting slaughtered over here!"

"Less yelling at Kiri! More shooty shooty!"

"All of you are hopeless..."

Eijiro chuckled out an apology that was accompanied by a lighter giggle also coming from his mic. "Think this is gonna be my last round for a bit, guys."

"You're so fuckin' whipped." Bakugo scoffed, before screaming profanities.

"Is it whipped if I'm the one who's wanting to get her into bed though?"

You clicked your mic back on then. "Hey, remember last week when Kats forgot his push to talk so we all heard him getting head and we party whipped because someone couldn't focus?"

"You better shut the hell up right fucking now!"

Everyone else roared with laughter. "Yeah! At least I have the decency to mute myself!"

"Hey, wait a sec, why are you online, Y/N!" Denki noted, "You should have already left!"

You screenshot your messages to the group chat because it was far easier than just explaining the ordeal.

"Cute shoes." Eijiro and Kyoka commented at the same time.

There was a lull as their game ended and the messages were read.

"Ya don't need 'em if they're gonna have their head so far up their ass like this."

"I agree." Hanta chimed in. "They're not worth your time."

"Still, sorry they turned out to be a shit." You could hear the frown on Kyoka's face, "I know how excited you were."

"Right, you doin' okay, Y/N? I can stick around and we can all shoot some things!"

"Thanks, Kiri but I'll be just fine! Go spend time with your girl!"

One by one, everyone signed off. You pulled up Spotify and Stardew Valley, something of a comfort for you to get lost in for the rest of the night.

Less than an hour later, you noticed your phone lighting up with your best friend's familiar smiling face. "What's up, Denki?"

"Open your door! I have my hands full and don't wanna put everything down to get my key!"

You sprang from your desk and rushed to your door. Sure enough, on the other side was Denki with bags in both hands and his phone tucked between his ear and shoulder. You grabbed it and a bag before he had a chance to drop anything like the klutz he was. "What's with all this?"

"I feel bad."

"Why? You didn't stand me up?"

He fiddled with the edge of a paper bag. "Yeah, but, we both read those messages and no one said anything but they didn't just call our group out, they called us out.

"Denks, it doesn't matter to me-"

"But, it does to me! You were so excited about this and I got in the way, unknowingly but, still! So, I gotta make it up to you now!"

He pulled out take-out boxes from your favorite restaurant. Two bottles of your favorite wine. Your top three favorite movies and video games, and a board game you both had been meaning to try. "I mean, if they think I'm your boyfriend I kinda gotta live up to the hype, right?"

You really wanted to insist that none of this was necessary. That just because some person that neither of you really knew that well, assumed something about your relationship that didn't mean he had to blame himself for it.

But, you had to admit, this was really sweet. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to you that he knew everything you liked but it was nice. Instead of sitting across from a stranger, making awkward small talk, and trying to learn about one another, you were barefoot in your kitchen, laughing with your best friend while he plated dinner and you poured the wine.

Formalities were out the window. Both you and Denki were eating dinner in your living room, laughing and drinking just as you'd done a million times before. You snapped a photo of the delicious food on paper plates, toasting good times with your cheap wine, ready to post them to your Instagram.

"Gonna make them more jealous..."

"I think they made it pretty clear they don't want to see me so why should I care?"

He shrugged. "I just thought they might, you know, come to their senses that they obviously lost."

"I don't really care either way." You wandered back into your kitchen, putting away the leftovers, "They can forget I exist or they can stalk my page like a creep. If someones' gonna try and tell me I can't be friends with my friends or just not listen to me, then I don't want them in my life. No matter how good-looking they are."

Denki watched you from the sofa, a bit of a lopsided grin on his face that had butterflies taking flight in your stomach. "What?" Laughing to hide the bit of a crush you always had on the man. It was unavoidable you told yourself. His personality was infectious and had 15 year old you head over heels.

He pushed back bright blonde hair back off his forehead and just shook his head. "Nothin'. Uh, what's next? Video game, board game, or movie?"

You peaked on the counter at the options. "Well, we probably should have checked this but the board game needs at least four people to play... guess we'll have to save that for our next game night. Is a movie okay?"

Of course, it was.

You brought over the DVD with a refill of wine and he pulled a blanket down off the back of your sofa.

It really didn't take long, just fifteen minutes or so, and you were curled up into Denki's side. You'd make grabby hands for your wine glass and he'd pass it over with that damn grin again.

And not long after that, he'd pulled out his phone, angling it to take a picture of the two of you. "What are you doing?" You could see him on his own Instagram, tagging you, with the caption, Check out my cute cuddle bug.

"I thought you didn't want to make them more jealous."

"I decided I don't care either. You're mine tonight, their loss. And since you're mine tonight, I get bragging rights." He snapped another quick picture of you rolling your eyes at him, and then he kept snapping them.

"Denki! Why!"

"Because you're cute, cuddle bug! I like having all the pictures of you that I can!"

Even as you tackled him back down on the sofa, pinning him below you, he still managed a photo. "Bet if I post this one, they'll really get the wrong idea."

You could have moved. You were the one on top of him and you had his arms above his head. You had the power here and yet you just lingered above him.

"Y/N? Not that I'm one to complain about having a beautiful person such as yourself pinning me down, like, it's kinda hot, but..." Looking down into half-lidded golden eyes, you wondered why you had to become best friends with such a damn flirt! "Are you gonna take advantage of this situation we're in or are we just gonna keep dancing around this for another decade or so?"

You couldn't have heard him right? No... no this was your brain playing tricks on you because he certainly hadn't had that much wine tonight. You sat upright on his lap. "Another decade then, Y/N?"

"You- ha- you should stop that, Denki."

He leaned up, moving his arms around you, "Gimme a good reason to and I will."

You didn't have one. And not just because you've been in love with him for ten years but also because he was your best friend. The only reason to not go through with it was the possibility of losing your friendship if something bad were to happen but, you really didn't think anything would.

Denki might have been a serial flirt but he was surprisingly loyal in all the relationships he'd been in, not that there had been all that many serious ones.

"I'm not hearing anything." He teased, his face getting closer to yours. You could count each and every one of the faint freckles that littered the balls of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. "But, I promise, if you tell me no, I'll stop, won't push this any further."

This whole thing seemed like a frickin' whirlwind, happening faster than your brain could really process the situation but you didn't want it to stop either. You wanted to take it further, didn't want to say no.

Which was why you coiled your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. There was that small little buzz of electricity that tickled your lips when he'd kiss your nose or cheeks that was now playing on his lips, on his tongue when you welcomed him in.

He leaned back again, pulling you with him until you were both a pile of needy hands and breathy pleas. Everywhere his hands roamed you felt that faint trail of shock against your skin, making the little hairs on your body stand on end.

Clothes were shed, tossed haphazardly around your living room, both of you pausing to laugh when Denki managed to land your hoodie over a lamp. His attention was drawn back to you quickly though, still perched on top of him but now he had your chest on full display since you'd forgone a bra when your date canceled.

Electrifying tongue twirled around your nipples, sensitive normally, now it felt like you knew what it was like when he fried his damn brain. He was eager, relentless even, pulling and sucking, another hand giving your other breast a similar treatment. He had you so focused that you let out a broken moan when slender fingers found their way into your panties.

"Fuckin' hell, Denki."

The bastard winked up at you, nipple still between his lips and before you could retort, he sent another small jolt through you.

You were blatantly grinding down on his hand, reaching behind you, you found him completely solid, barely being contained in the tight black boxers he wore. You had enough sense to tug them down and wrap your hand around him making his teeth sink into your soft flesh, whining when you stroked him.

"Y/N..." He whimpered, his hand momentarily distracted from his ministrations gave you enough time to shift in his lap to scoot forward putting his cock in front of you. In one swift motion, you had his length between your slick. "Oh fuck, cutie!" Golden eyes were squeezed shut while you moved along him, feeling that pleasant curve he had, you could only imagine what it was gonna be like to have him inside you.

"You're being a little tease, ma-makes me wanna do all sorts of things to y-you."

He was kissing your neck, your chest, shoulders, and arms, anywhere on you that he could reach. His hips bucking up into you, just trying to hit that perfect angle.

Strength and agility were something most overlooked when it came to Denki Kaminari but when the man wanted something bad enough, he found a way to get it.

He had your ass rising up in the air with a harsh thrust of his hips and a small squeak from you, giving him exactly enough time to scoot down on the sofa so you were sat atop his face. If you complained, he didn't hear you. Denki already had your thighs around his head and his tongue devouring you completely.

Little shockwaves rocked you while you cried out his name, hands fisting blonde locks just trying to stay upright.

One orgasm from you apparently wasn't enough, neither was two but on the third, Denki finally relented, allowing your heartrate to come back down and your gasping breaths to come in more steadily.

You slid back down his body, his erection now smack against your ass. His hair was recked, face completely flush but he had the biggest grin on his face that you'd ever seen.

Denki kissed both your cheeks, "You are so amazing, cutie!" Kissed your lips, "You taste better than anything I've ever had!" And one more on the tip of your nose. "Doin' okay?"

You nodded, starting to really gather yourself again, and by this point, you really just wanted one thing.

"I wanna... Denks... can I take care of you now?"

"Sure, cutie! How do you want me?" The wiggling eyebrows had you rolling your eyes and pushing him on his back again.

It took little effort for you to position yourself above his cock, and with how slick you were, his bright pink head slipped right inside. He held your hands while you scrunched up your face, sliding all the way down him until he was completely sheathed within.

The curve was immaculate. Hitting in just the right way that had you moaning with just a couple thrusts from him. Before long, you were eagerly bouncing on his cock. Riding him hard so he filled you up each and every time.

You barely registered him reaching for the coffee table, his phone now in his hands. "What're you doin'?" You practically slurred, slowing only slightly. He tapped the camera lens with a wicked grin. "Seriously?"

"We could make 'em really jealous now..."

Somewhere in your brain, you knew your date wouldn't give two shits, in fact, this probably would have only validated their thoughts about your's and Denki's relationship but with his cock stuffed so deeply into you, kissing your cervix in the most beautiful way, you really didn't give a damn.

You and Denki put on the best possible show you could think of. You were overstimulated, sore, and completely elated! He balanced the phone against the wine bottle so neither of you had to try to hold it.

This way he could play with your breasts or squeeze your thighs while you dug half-moons into his chest. Shocked with the playful zaps he sent right to your core.

Your makeup you'd didn't feel like taking off now ran down your cheeks with tears. Your hair was a mess thanks to him pulling at it.

Denki had you howling through another two orgasms, telling you how perfect you were, how nice you felt squeezing him so tightly, your nails felt so good against his skin.

It was only when you collapsed against his chest did he hoist your hips up so he could ram into you, pulling out just at the last second with a strangled cry of your name.

He wiggled himself free, grabbing a towel from your bathroom and cleaning you both up before stopping the recording.

"You're, hey you're gonna send that to me right?" You asked when he handed back your hoodie off the lamp.

He dropped a kiss on your lips, plopping down beside you on the sofa again and you noticed your email already up and the video uploading. "Obviously, we share all our videos and photos. Why would this be different?"

#mha #bnha #mha smut #denki kaminari #kaminari #kaminari smut #denki kaminari smut #mha fluff #denki fluff #denki smut #denki x you #mha x reader #kaminari x reader #denki x reader

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sashi-ya · 3 years

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Hello! I hope you are doing fine! Can I request the rough sex OS (the jealousy one) with Law? And with a shy s/o? I have a soft spot for a possessive Law.

Hi! 👋 I loved this request in specific, I love possessive Law too!. I wrote this little OS on a modern AU. She is a coffee shop barista, and Law of course is a surgeon. I hope you like it!! 💖 Thanks for reading! ~

NSFW ~ Trafalgar Law x F! Reader ~ Possessive & Rough Sex 🔥

TW: Explicit sex, violence, nosebleeding.

WC: 2064

A slow morning serving lattes and cold brews finds you bored, gazing several times at your phone screen, maybe your friends or your boyfriend Law sends something to pull you out from the boredom.

All the doctors, nurses and hospital workers are occupied with their duties, including Law. “He must be operating someone”, you think and simply grab a book, because these are the hours when no one enters your coffee shop.

The time flies by when you lose yourself in the written adventures of some books, so the workers begin to arrive at your shop hungry for lunch. You receive them happily, and despite you being a little shy, you always show a smile to your customers.

Mrs. Walker asks you for a special type of salad, but you don’t have it there on display. “I have more on the kitchen, wait a sec, I’ll bring you one from there!”, you tell her and head to the back of the store. When you come back, you see the only customer you wished never enters your store. He is an abuser, a stalker, a harasser. It is indeed Law's colleague. You haven’t told him, because you didn’t want to affect your boyfriend’s career as a surgeon, so you put up with that bastard's constant sexual advances.

You give Mrs. Walker the salad, and she walks away with a smile, because that son of a bitch looks and acts like an angel in front of the others, but when he is alone with you, he won’t stop telling how you should leave Law and instead try a good dick for once.

“Hello darling, have you already left Law?”, he greets you. You smile at him, you think you are not strong enough to confront him, so you just smile, close your hand into a fist and ask him what he is having. “Can I order you?”, he asks you shamelessly, approaching himself closer to you, laying his body against the counter.

You are disgusted, you just wish you had a gun to blow his head off. You smile again, and let a false giggle slip out of your mouth, but your eyes begin to get teary. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I saw you with a bikini on your Instagram post yesterday and I couldn’t resist!!. A vanilla latte would be awesome!”. He says, grinning at you. You nod, and head to the coffee machine and prepare his order.

You hand the plastic cup with the Latte served to the harasser, hoping, praying he would pay and leave as soon as possible. But this time, he goes too far. He has the audacity of snatching your hand when you give the cup to him. He pulls from you making your whole body hit hard against the inner part of the counter. Your face is really close to his, you start to panic, but you can’t make him let go of you. He keeps pulling, approaching his face even more to yours, “don’t act as if you didn't want to be kissed, come on, you little slut”, he says to you.

“She said no, bastard”, you hear Law’s voice and next the disgusting stalker receives a direct punch from Law’s tattooed hands. Yet, he doesn’t give up and stands up, hitting your boyfriend's handsome face. Drops of blood begin to stream down from his nose, and land over his white coat. Law uses his forearm to wipe the blood away and smiles at him. That son of a bitch was hurting, trying to steal what’s his. YOU. And he wouldn’t allow that to happen.

This time Law punches the guy on the stomach, and when he bends due to the pain he was experiencing, your boyfriend uses his knee to finish him. When the stalker finally lies on the ground, spitting some blood because of a pair of broken teeth, Law looks down at him and says “I told you to stay away from her. Get the fuck out of here”.

His colleague stands up and runs out of the store, threatening Law with suing him. “Heh...He’s not going to do any of that”, he says smirking, victorious and still nose bleeding.

You are crying, unable to move, astonished. He looks at you, and says, “Are you ok?”. “Y- yes. It's nothing…” you tell him, still not moving a single muscle. But Law, who had a different expression than he usually has, a more primal one, walks behind the counter and grabs you by your wrist.

“Why weren’t you saying anything to him? Why were you smiling at him? Stop crying”, he says to you, shaking your arm. “How many times I have to tell you you should be fiercer; I won’t be here every single time a bastard wants to fuck you!!”. You know exactly he wasn’t being unfair with you, but this was the way he had to tell you he was deeply worried by you… yet he continues. “I’m starting to believe you wanted him to do that to you, huh? you weren’t telling him nothing”.

“Law! that…. that’s not true”, you tell him. You have stopped crying, and you begin to get angry. “I must show you who you belong to, then”, he says to you with that grumpy voice and pulls you to the back of the store.

“L-Law… stop!! you are bleeding, let me…”, you try to say as he pulls from you, but he interrupts you. “Shut the fuck up!”. He was pissed, but… horny? You try to reach to his nose, maybe to clean him up, because he won’t stop bleeding, but he backs his head up, snorting his own blood. An evil grin draws on his face, and he licks the blood that slowly covers his upper lip.

“Oh…”, you voice, damn how sexy he looks. At first you feel guilty to feel so attracted to him bleeding, hurt, with his disheveled black hair and his white coat stained red. His intense grey eyes are fixed on yours, and shamefully, subtly, almost unnoticeable bit your lower lip…

“You are mine; don’t you know that?”, he tells you and begins to walk towards you. You remain still until his right hand starts squeezing your neck. “L-Law…” you gasp. “What?”, he tells you, pissed, approaching his face to the left side of your face. Your legs tremble, it’s not exactly because you are afraid…

He squeezes harder and harder the sides of your neck, you try to gasp for air and when you begin to feel lightheaded, he orders you to walk to the kitchen counter of the cafeteria. “Babe… the- the store is open. A client could enter…”, you tell him. “I hope so, so they learn who you belong to”, he says. “But…”, you try to complain.

“Shut up”, he tells you, and tangles your hair around his veiny hand, pushing you, in order to bend your body over the cold metal of the counter. He bends over you; you can already feel his hard rock sex against you. Law bites the shell of your ear, and then, without letting your hair go, turns your head to the side so he can invade your mouth with his wet tongue.

A ferrous taste from the blood lingers on your mouth as you make out. He moves his hips with a pounding motion. Your breasts are pressed against the metal table, and the thin fabric of your blouse allows the cold to hit and erect your nipples. “I’m in the mood to fuck you right now, no foreplay”, he says, and slide down your pants and panties with just one hand. You are left completely exposed to him, your ass up, you are ready to be penetrated.

He lowers his zipper down and frees his hard member. Law plays with it over your ass, pinning you to the counter, threatening to fuck you rough there. You beg him “please, no no”. “Haha, I know I know babe, I’m not gonna hurt you”, he says laughing with his lips pressed against your ear.

You are more aroused than you should be, but also really worried some customers might enter, so for a second your mind focuses on hearing if someone is there. But suddenly you are brought back to the kitchen, when Law roughly, violently, and with a grunt, penetrates you. Fast thrusts, fast and deep thrusts, stretch your walls, and the tip of his dick hits exactly that perfect point.

“So wet and tight… babe…”, he gasps as he feels your sex pulse around his dick. You can help but whine and moan his name, as he hits over and over that spot inside you.

You suddenly hear the bell of the door announcing a new customer entering the store. Panicking, you whisper Law “Babe… someone… e-entered…”. Your voice cracking with every thrust. “So what? you want to show them?”, he tells you laughing and fucking you even harder.

“Is anyone here?”, a man asks from the store. “Fuck fuck fuck”, you think trying to cover your mouth not to be heard by the customer. But Law has other intentions… “I got an idea…”, he says and pulls from your hair, still without detaching from you, to make you stand up. “Go tell him, you’ll be right there”, he tells you, with a devil grin. “What?”, you ask him, how are you supposed to tell him, being half naked, and with Law’s dick still inside you. “B-but Law… stop it” you tell him, mortified. “What? Are you ashamed of being fucked at work? Go tell him, don’t show your body…”, he commands and pushes you softly to the door.

Your heart races, your cheeks are red with that sex glow, your hair is a mess, you are sweating. Picking through the kitchen entrance, you greet the customer, “Hey, S-Sir… I’ll be right t-…” Law thrusts you, deep. “Theeeere… in a se-cond”. You barely managed to tell the guy those words, your heart -and your core- is about to explode. You have spoken to a customer while being fucked behind the thin wall that separates the kitchen from the counter…

“Good girl”, says Law enjoying your suffering and turns you around. He lifts you up and sits you over the table where you normally knead bread for the cafeteria. He takes off his white coat covered in blood stains from his nose hemorrhage and takes off his pants. He crawls over you on the table and begin to fuck you so rough, and while he does it with one of his hand, he pinches one of your nipples and twist the hell out of it.

He bites your neck; you carve your nails over his back. You are getting there, and he is too. Flour flying everywhere, your breasts look like cakes ready to be baked. Law has baking powder all over his nose. Pounding you, calling you “MY little slut”. You try to hold your moans, but Law slaps your cheek, and you are now whining, and crying his name. You have forgotten any shame, the customer, the food, the cafeteria.

You are about to come when you hear your name being shouted in horror. “Y/N?!”, your manager is right there standing, witnessing your spectacle… “What the fuck? a customer is waiting for you there… and you are... FUCKING OVER THE FOOD?”.

Law looks at you and hopes off. “Tch, I hate bread, fucking flour”, he says while brushes the rest of the white material off his shirt. You are sitting there, with your whole ass over the table, covered in flour, a white mess, half naked. You are a shy person… yeah… until today. “I’m sorry, boss. I’m leaving my apron and imma head out”, you tell him. “Right”, says your manager, still without becoming aware of what has just happened and walks away excusing himself with the customer.

Law and you quickly get dressed, both look at each other and begin to laugh uncontrollably. Once you are ready to leave, you bite the inside of your cheeks just to avoid laughing in front of your now -ex boss-. And while you are heading out, Law stands next to the manager, puts a hand over his shoulder and tells him, “Just for the record, she IS mine”.

You both leave, and continue what you have started at home… 💖🔥

#trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar d. water law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x oc #one piece #law one piece #law x y/n #law x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece x oc #law imagine #trafalgar law imagine #traffy

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garbagevanfleet · 3 years

Text

Brightest Blue (series)

PART SEVEN

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: men being shitty and creepy!! possible trigger for sexual assult Summary: Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place. Notes: things are taking an odd turn, right? (sorry this is posted so late)

taglist: @valleyd0ll @satingrass-maidensfair @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @peaceisouranthem @oblvions @hansonobsessed @myownparadise96 @lara-gvf @anditsmywholeheart @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies @bigblack-catattack

MASTERPOST

You woke up to the shrill chiming of an alarm cutting through your head like a circle saw. The unexpected noise made you sit up instantly, putting your gaze directly on a desk, the top of it overflowing with sheet music.

Josh started to stir next to you, his hand reaching out from under the blanket to grab his phone from where it sat in between you.

The sore spot on your ribs made you wince, and your eyes drifted down to find your own phone, pressed into the mattress from you sleeping on it.

When the screen flicked on, you let out a sharp gasp.

“Josh, we have like fifteen minutes to leave!” you yelped, hopping instantly out of bed and finding your knees a little wobbly.

He sat up then, rubbing across his face.

You gazed back at him, frowning at the odd setup; he was laying on top of the comforter but under a different blanket.

“Shit, I had yesterday’s alarm still set for my late class,” he murmured, inching himself toward the end of the bed.

“Oh my god,” you whined, racing to the bathroom. You brushed your teeth way too quickly, knowing in your heart that you did a poor job.

When you returned to Josh’s room for your phone, he was pulling a clean shirt over his head.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, sounding somewhere between asleep and awake.

“It’s okay, I should have set my own alarm,” you admitted, snatching your cell from the bed and scooting past him again. “It’s really okay. Are you going to be ready to leave in like ten?”

He nodded as he ran his fingers through his curls. “Yeah, you?”

“I’m praying.”

On the walk to school, you remembered.

“Fuck, my presentation is today. And I got high and didn’t practice.”

He chuckled under his breath, clasping his hand around your shoulder. “You’re going to be fine- just breathe and stay calm. If you mess up, take a pause and keep going.”

You nodded furiously. “Okay. Okay. Can you text that to me? What if I forget?”

He laughed in earnest then. “Yes, I’ll text you.”

You exhaled a lengthy breath, nodding as you tried to calm your nerves.

In front of the entrance to the B hall, he spun you around to face him, holding the biceps of each of your arms. He mimicked taking a deep breath, prompting you to do the same without another thought.

“Relax,” he instructed coolly. “And I’ll see you at lunch.”

+++

You had your hands clasped tightly in your lap, nervous enough that your palms were sweating. Getting up and speaking to a room of people was high on your list of things that felt like torture, especially since you hadn’t had time to shower or do anything with your mess of hair besides pinning it up into a bun as best you could.

You thanked a divine power that the outfit you had thrown on in a haste ended up looking surprisingly presentable.

As it neared your turn, you got your papers in order and straightened up your posture. When your name was called, you promptly stood, descending the steps and ending up down at the podium.

You had just opened your mouth to start when your phone chimed in your pocket. Your eyes popped open wide, hoping you’d hallucinated the sound instead of forgetting to silence your ringer.

The professor was giving you an unamused look as you gave a weak laugh.

“One sec, sorry,” you muttered, fishing out your phone. You flicked the little button down on the side, but as the screen lit up, you got to read what the message said.

Josh just now Just pretend everyone’s me or pretend they’re naked. Probably not both though.

You couldn’t help but huff a laugh as you tucked it back away. The nerves that had you so on edge started to dampen, just a bit.

+++

That afternoon, you walked home alone. Josh had texted you that he’d be staying until 5 or 6 to make sure the production was going along smoothly, but when he returned to the apartment, it was with a bottle of wine.

You were doing some of the dishes from the previous day and had to wipe your soapy hands on a dishtowel before he crossed the room and pulled you into a side hug.

The two of you had talked about how well the presentation went when you met at lunch, but you hadn’t imagined he’d make such a big deal about it.

“I had Jake pick me up and take me to the liquor store, and I got this so we could celebrate,” he informed, his voice kind of soft - either sheepish or tired, you couldn’t quite tell.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you replied, but couldn’t suppress the huge grin splitting your lips.

He nodded, offering a soft smile. “I know.” He set the bottle down on the table pointedly. “I wanted to.”

You fished the make-shift corkscrew from the utensil drawer, brandishing it like a knife to earn a melodic laugh from Josh.

He popped the door of the fridge open to peer inside. “We might be able to make something special for dinner. Or, at least more special than mac and cheese or sandwiches.”

When the idea popped into your head, you crossed the room and grabbed your purse.

“I still have about,” you paused to count the bills in your wallet. “$34 from shopping. I was saving it for something nice, so why don’t we order something in?”

He grinned at you, leaning back against the wall next to the fridge and letting his head rest against it. “What kind of take-out are you thinking? You should get to pick.”

“Oh, please,” you huffed, playfully rolling your eyes as you started unwrapping the foil around the rim of the wine bottle. “One, I could have never done so well if it weren’t for you. And two, you’re from here, so you’d know what’s worth ordering.”

His pink lips tilted up into a smirk. “I’m not from here though.”

“Close enough.” You took a moment to think before continuing on. The tip of the corkscrew was broken, leaving a blunt edge and he watched you struggle to pierce the cork with it. “Is there any kind of Indian? Or Thai maybe?”

He nodded. “There’s an Indian restaurant downtown. It’s pretty yummy if I remember right.”

“That kinda sounds perfect, right?”

He held his hand out, flicking his eyes down at the corkscrew and then back up at you until you reluctantly handed it over. He picked up the bottle and popped it open with ease, his smirk only growing.

“Yeah, perfect.”

+++

Thursday evening, Trevor showed up around five, just as you were finished making your bedroom look like a cute study nook. You weren’t entirely sure how much studying either of you planned on doing, but since he only brought one notebook and nothing else, you weren’t very hopeful about getting any work done.

“I wasn’t expecting you to have a roommate,” he said in a playful tone.

“I do. When I moved here, I knew I couldn’t afford to live alone, so I rolled the dice. He’s a great friend, as it turns out. Do you want something to drink?” you asked as he stepped through your doorway and set his stuff down on your bed.

“That’d be cool.”

“We have juice and milk and water and iced tea.”

He shrugged with a smile. “Anything but milk, please.”

You nodded. “I’ll bring you some juice.”

Josh, who was seated in the sitting chair in the living room, working on his own homework, looked up at you through his eyelashes with a mischievous-looking smile.

You shot him a scowl. “Don’t be weird,” you whispered, and then in a normal tone, finished with, “Would you like some juice too?”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head at you. “That’s okay, I can get my own. You just worry about him.”

Trevor happily took his glass as you handed it to him, giving you a “thank you”.

“Of course,” you replied as you sat next to him on the bed and pulled your stack of textbooks onto your lap. “Where should we start?”

“You actually want to study?” he mused, sounding disbelieving.

You bit your lip. “Probably for a little while at least, right?”

He shrugged back at you, but you tried to brush off the odd attitude. Maybe you’d given him the wrong impression as to exactly what this would be, but you could fix it.

“So, we’re supposed to read chapters ten through sixteen and then do all the questions,” you informed, flipping the book open. “You want me to read it out loud?”

You thought maybe offering to do most of the work would brighten his mood, but every time you looked over at him while you were reading, he was scrolling through his phone. He had a bored expression painted across his features, and it took him nearly a full minute to realize you’d stopped reading.

When he finally looked up at you, he gave a smile that you knew he thought was the most charming thing you’d ever seen.

You could hear a knock on the front door and Josh shuffling around in the living room.

“Have you been listening to any of this? You look like you’d rather be anywhere else.” You tried to keep your tone from sounding annoyed, but you knew you couldn’t hide it as well as you wished.

“I’d rather be doing anything else if I’m being honest.” There was not a single shred of an apology in his voice, and when you spoke again, you knew it would be even less put together.

“Why did you want to come over for a study session if you didn’t want to study?” It was less of a question and more of a scathing review of his character, or at least what you’d seen of it so far.

He frowned at you, looking a shade on the accusatory side for your liking. “I feel like you should have known what that actually meant.”

You could hear a conversation going on in the kitchen, and you silently wished you were out there instead. The longer you heard them talk, the more convinced you became that it was Jake, and you wondered if Josh invited him over on purpose, or if he just showed up.

“You said you thought I was good in class and that part of why you asked me out was so I could help you with classwork.”

He rolled his blue eyes. “Yeah, if I hadn’t, I can’t imagine you would have invited me over.”

You had your mouth open to snap a response, but somehow, his words hurt you. Not much, but just enough for your chest to feel tight, and not just from anger.

“Did you think you could manipulate me into having sex with you?” you asked quietly, your brows threaded close together in a frown.

He gave a long, bored-sounding sigh. “Don’t act like I’m a bad guy, here. Everyone does it. Give some fake compliments and then make your move, you know?”

For emphasis, he placed his hand on your thigh, a little too high up. It made your teeth clench, jaw tightened by rage.

“Don’t touch me. You should go,” you stated.

He huffed a sarcastic laugh as he inched his hand a bit further up your leg. He moved toward you until his face was nearing your neck. “Come on, what’s the big deal?”

Before you could stop yourself, you reached a hand out and slapped him across his face, your palm making contact with the hollow of his cheek. You hadn’t been expecting the crack of noise when you made contact; it ripped through the room, and out into the living area if you had to guess.

It took him a beat to realize what happened, but as soon as he did, he stood from your bed. You picked up his notebook and handed it to him, and he ripped it from your grasp, a dirty look on his features.

“You’re a cockteasing bitch,” he snapped, nursing the red spot on his cheek.

He was already halfway through the living room when you moved to stand in the doorway of your room.

“Fuck off,” you called through clenched teeth as he opened the front door and let himself out. When he was gone you realized that Josh and Jake were both looking at you with similar degrees of concern from where they were sat on the couch.

“What happened?” Josh asked, frowning up at you.

Embarrassed, you flicked your eyes over to Jake who had one eyebrow quirked up at you.

“Oh, you know. Just boys lying to me so they can fuck,” you snapped as you retreated to your room and closed the door. You instantly felt bad for being short with them, especially since Josh is just about the last person you could ever imagine being mean to, but you’d apologize later.

Right then, you were going to curl up in bed.

After a couple of hours, Jake left and you wondered how long it would take before Josh came in to bug you, but he didn’t. You listened for his footsteps coming toward your door, but you could hear him in the living room, turning the page of a book every now and again.

Eventually, you couldn’t help yourself - you threw the blankets off and stood. The stiffness in your muscles was a poor consolation prize for the day.

He looked up at you, shutting his book instantly, his homework caught between the pages.

“Hey,” he greeted quietly. He patted the spot next to him on the couch. “I’m sorry your...thing went so poorly.”

You were too annoyed to care anymore, so you laid your head on his shoulder, letting out a long sigh. It surprised you when you felt a tear drip down your cheek and you could feel your face start to warm in response.

He heard you sniffle and his form stiffened immediately. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you tight to him.

“Did he hurt you?” It sounded like Josh’s throat was tight, making his words hoarse.

“No, he just,” You weren’t sure how to finish that. He hadn’t really hurt you, per se. “He just tried to touch me. And then he didn’t stop when I told him to.”

“What?” His tone was charmingly offended on your behalf.

“It’s okay,” you assured, wiping your face with the sleeve of your sweater. “I’m more angry than anything. I just kind of can’t believe I fell for that, you know? The whole ‘let’s study’ thing.”

“Stop that - it’s not your fault.” You could feel the hesitation as he laid his hand against your ear, but you leaned into it, grateful for the comfort.

It was quiet for a long moment while you calmed yourself down. His presence was more of a reassurance than anything else you could have imagined at the moment.

“You’re my best friend,” you breathed, turning to nuzzle your nose against the fabric of his sleeve. “And I’m lucky to have you.”

Through a smile, you heard him say, “Me too.”

#brightest blue fic #josh gvf fic #josh kiszka #josh kiszka fic #gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #.0

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

Note

Can you do Grian or Bdubs + hurt/comfort?

hurt/comfort is my favourite thing to write so thank you!! :D (I decided to do both hermits if that’s okay)

Requests are still open! Please read pinned post before requesting.

…

Grian has just finished showing Bdubs around his mansion when the two head outside and see that the sun is just setting.

Predictably, Bdubs immediately gets out his bed. “Gotta sleep, hold on a sec.”

Grian waits until Bdubs has gotten into the bed before breaking it out from under him and darting backwards.

“Hey, give it back!” Bdubs yells. “Give it back, Grian!”

“Come and get it!” laughs Grian, taking off running.

Bdubs pursues him towards the trees. He’s everso slightly shorter than Grian but they’re fairly equal in speed, so Bdubs is able to keep up with him.

As they get further into the jungle, Bdubs speeds up, keeping his eyes fixed on the back of Grian’s red sweater. He gets closer and closer, until his friend is almost within reach.

Then Grian bursts through a patch of vines hanging in their path, and since Bdubs is so close, he’s unable to avoid crashing right through them.

He screams as the vines grab him, pulling him back. Traumatic memories flood back to him as he thrashes around, but the more he moves, the tighter the vines wrap around him. Choking for air, he manages a few strangled screams for help before his voice gives out and he can no longer make a sound.

It’s happening again, his panicked brain realises: the jungle is swallowing him, stopping him from moving or speaking. He can’t fight them off. Not again.

Up ahead, Grian had almost entirely lost Bdubs in the darkness until he heard Bdubs’s final scream. Using a torch he happens to have on him, Grian locates Bdubs and his stomach drops as he registers his friend’s condition.

Bdubs is tangled in at least a dozen vines. He’s passed out but they’re holding him up by his arms, neck, and torso.

Without hesitation, Grian draws his sword and starts slicing through the thick vines. Thankfully, it only takes about four swings to release Bdubs, who immediately collapses forward. Grian catches him and, despite his friend’s weight, lifts him onto his back. He carries Bdubs out of the jungle as quickly as he can and takes him to his bedroom in the mansion, placing the bed he stole from Bdubs and laying his friend gently down on it.

For the first time, Grian notices the horrible red marks snaking around Bdubs’s arms, scars from the Season 5 jungle now accentuated by his second time being held by vines.

As he’s inspecting Bdubs’s slightly swollen wrist, he hears his friend’s quiet voice, “I’m so sorry, G.”

“What?” Grian stares at Bdubs, who is now awake but has turned his head away. “Bdubs, there’s nothing to be sorry for. In fact, I’M the one who should be sorry for stealing your bed and causing that to happen. I-I never thought something like that would happen.”

“It’s okay, Grian; I don’t blame you.”

Noticing that Bdubs has an air of embarrassment around him, Grian pulls up a chair and sits down, clearing his throat. “You know… When I first came to Hermitcraft, I had nightmares every night. It took me a really long time for me to recover from my trauma enough to go about life without getting a panic attack every half hour. That was three years ago, and even now, I still sometimes get triggered really badly.”

He clears his throat again as he starts to get a little choked up. “Recovery from trauma isn’t linear. No matter how long it’s been, you’ll have good days, bad days, and days when it’ll feel as raw as the day it happened.”

Grian pauses. “I guess what I’m trying to say is… I understand. And I’ll certainly never judge you, so you have no reason to be embarrassed. If something like this ever happens again or if you just need to talk to someone who’ll listen and understand, I’m always here for you.”

He finally stops talking and regards Bdubs with a slightly awkward look. For a few seconds, he’s horrified with himself, worried that he might have misread the situation or gone too intense.

But finally, Bdubs turns his head to face Grian, his large eyes shining with unshed tears. “Th-Thank you, Grian. You’ve no idea how much that means to me. A-And if you ever need the same, I’ll try my best to help.”

Grian smiles kindly. “Thanks, Bdubs. So do you feel well enough to head home?”

“A-Actually, G…” Bdubs hesitates. “Would you mind if I… Um…”

Luckily, Grian realises what he’s trying to say immediately. “Oh, yes, of course you can stay here tonight. I’ll go get my other bed; I think it’s in a chest outside.”

He leaves the room and takes a moment to compose himself just outside. After all that, he hadn’t been expecting to spill his heart out to Bdubs, though he thinks it must have helped his friend to know that someone else is going through the same thing he is.

Grian has only ever heard whispers and snippets of Bdubs’s trauma, but as someone who’s gone through something similar, he knows better than to ask any personal questions about it. If Bdubs wants to confide in him, that’s his choice. All Grian needs to do is support him as best he can.

All Grian needs to do is be the person for Bdubs that he wished he had himself all those years ago.

#hermitcraft #grian #bdoubleo100 #bdubs #vaunna’s requests

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writingpuddle · 3 years

Text

The other night best friend and I (yes, that best friend) were riffing on trans Neil headcanons over the phone, but a realistic trans treatment of aftg gets dark real fast, so without further ado:

~The Mafia May Be Sexist (But It’s Not Transphobic!) AU ~

(tmmbsbintau, if you will)

Does this premise make sense? No, but if Nora can write about made up mafia sports, I can write a nonsense AU where transphobia doesn’t exist okay this is my party and ill be self-indulgent if i want to

We open with baby Neil, who was named after his maternal grandmother or smthg idk

Now lets say Neil is one of those “I always knew I was trans” kids

So even at a fairly young age he was like, nope this is wrong

For the most part his dad basically ignores him (what use is a girl to me???) but if he makes the mistake of getting in the way it’s the usual shit with knives and hot irons and basically Neil’s bog-standard Traumatic Childhood

His mom signs him up to play Exy to get him out of the house, and he loves it, because of course he does

Now tiny Neil may be terrified of his father

But remember transphobia isn’t real

So he when he’s about ten years old he tells his parents over dinner

His mom just puts her fork down and says that’s alright

But Nathan

Nathan

Nathan’s eyes start to glow

He has a son? Not a useless daughter?

He’s practically levitating with glee

And Neil, poor Neil, who has never had any positive reinforcement—from either parent, Mary, you’re not innocent in this—he soaks it up

Nathan puts both hands on his son’s—his son’s!—shoulders and dubs him Nathaniel

His son, his heir, his legacy

Mary takes one look at the possessive look in her husband’s eyes and thinks oh hell no

For the next few days Nathan absolutely showers Nathaniel with affection

He takes him to the hairdresser and buys him a whole new wardrobe, neglecting his mafia duties in order to dote upon his new son

It is possibly the happiest week of Nathaniel’s life

And then he wakes up in the night with his mother’s hand on his mouth and is given less than a minute to pack his things

Now he’s grown up in a criminal household; the notion of making a run for it isn’t exactly foreign to him

But it’s not until they’re in the car that Nathaniel realizes that his father is nowhere to be seen

Where’s dad? He asks

Shut up, his mother hisses, and slams the car into gear

From then on, he is never Nathaniel

His mother is 100% on board with his transition, but…not really anything beyond that

After all, people will be looking for a woman and a trans boy, which means Mary’s investment in Neil’s gender pretty much starts and ends with him passing as cis

She gets him all the medical treatments he needs (on the black market, since they’re on the run)—puberty blockers when he’s younger, testosterone when he’s older

But he’s never allowed to acknowledge being trans whatsoever

Not to his classmates, not to his teachers

He never gets the chance to have a queer community, or explore the nuances of his gender, because the only presentation they can afford for him to have is Masculine Cis Boy. The restriction is stifling. It’s suffocating.

Neil hates her for it

His life was, so briefly, perfect

He had his father’s love and approval for a day, a week, and he is both old enough to remember his father’s cruelty and young enough to believe that it could end

Nathan is incandescent

When he realizes what Mary has done he goes to the Moriyamas in a storm of fury

She stole my SON! He bellows

Now the Moriyama’s didn’t particularly care about Neil back when they thought he was a girl

Girls in the mafia are basically just for child-rearing, so he wasn’t a threat

So once they figure out what Nathan is talking about (this takes a sec, owing to Nathan having not previously gotten around to telling them about Nathaniel’s revelation), their first thought is that look, we might do the nepotism thing here in our family, but underlings don’t get to do the nepotism thing. Sorry, them’s the breaks

Obviously, Mary has to die—nobody’s disputing that, a woman who robbed her husband and stole his son? Only death will right that wrong—but Kengo tells Nathan that he’ll help find Nathaniel on the condition that he’s given to the Ravens upon capture

Nathan is utterly confident that his son—his son!—will perform admirably. He accepts the deal without a second thought

So they’re on the run for years and years, and Neil’s resentment towards his mother festers, but he never acts out too much, and he doesn’t contact his father

He almost does a couple times, but then he presses his hand to the iron scar on his shoulder and he can’t quite make himself go through with it

He’s sixteen when Nathan catches up with them in Seattle

There’s a shootout and Mary and Neil almost get away

But

Nathan arrives

Nathaniel! He shouts. My boy!

And Neil lurches to a stop

There is his father, walking towards him, his eyes still shining with the same fierce love and pride from when he was ten

Nathaniel, his father says. Hasn’t this gone on long enough?

Come home.

Mary is trying to drag Neil away, but he’s too fixated on his father

Can I? Neil asks. Can I really?

Of course, Nathan says. Everything is forgiven. I’ve even secured you a place on the Ravens. Didn’t you always love Exy? Come home with me, Nathaniel

Neil can barely believe it. His father is offering him everything he ever wanted. His mother has been keeping him from this, his whole life?

Why would they run?

And through this whole exchange Nathan has been getting closer, and Mary is pulling Neil back, and now he’s close enough to touch and the sound she makes is like something physical tears when she finally releases Neil and tries to flee

She isn’t fast enough

Nathan’s grin is as wide as the sun when his cleaver bites into Mary’s waist

Blood pours out

Neil screams

Mary clutches her side, staggering away, but it’s obvious she won’t make it far

Dad, no, Neil says. Don’t—

Shh, his father says. Don’t be afraid. She kept us apart all these years. She deserves to die.

And Neil—

Neil has hated his mother for most of his life

But he looks at the woman who has struggled so long to protect him—who has failed as often as she succeeded, but who fought anyway, everyday—and the man whose eyes are bright with glee at her pain

And he makes a choice

He only has a split second to see the betrayal in his father’s eyes before the pipe in his hand slams into his head and he pitches forward, unconscious

Neil does not wait to see if he survives

He grabs his mother and they run, her arm locked on his shoulder and her palm pressed to the wound on her side

Neil puts her in the passenger seat and jumps in, throwing the car in gear

You need a hospital, he says, frantic

No, she hisses, pinning a towel to her side. No hospitals

Guilt floods through him as he looks at her pale face

Sticky red handprints smear on everything she touches

I’m sorry, mom, he says, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—

Enough, she says. Drive

He drives

He drives, and drives, and he follows her instructions, and later he wouldn’t have been able to say if he actually thought she would survive; he believed it, because he had to, because he had never been without her; he knew better, because gut wounds are slow, but they are inexorable

He parks on the beach and there are tears pushing at his eyelids but he chokes them down

I’m sorry, he said, I never should have believed him. I’m sorry—

You never would have been enough for him, she says, and Neil flinches

Her hand finds his chin and she yanks him down to meet her eyes, her gaze fierce.

He never loved you, she says. He would have made you in his image, and when you failed he would have torn you apart. I would not—I would not watch him try to make my son a monster. Don’t—don’t waste it

Mom, what are you saying—

Promise me, she says

Promise you won’t go back to him

She is dying

Neil can’t refuse

He promises

She releases his face and her red fingerprints on his face burn like brands. He can feel them hours after the tears wash the blood away.

Her last few breaths are jagged as broken stones before she rattles to a stop, and Neil is alone

He burns her body and staggers out onto the road and he keeps moving, he keeps moving, because he knows if he stops he’ll shatter

His hesitation has cost him his mother’s life

But his action costs him his fathers love

In one blow, Neil broke the golden image Nathan had of his perfect son, and now all Nathan wants is to destroy him

He finds his way to Millport almost on instinct alone

He finds one of Mary’s contacts who can supply him with the hormones he needs to continue passing and squats in an empty house and speaks to none of his classmates

When the Exy team tryouts are announced, he goes, intending to only watch from a distance

Perhaps it is inevitable he’s sucked in

There is so little light in his life

Can he be forgiven for wanting one little spark?

The Foxes come for him in May, and Kevin doesn’t recognize him, because how would he? Even if they met as kids, Kevin never saw Neil post-transition

Wymack ends up telling him something about Kevin’s past and the truth about the Ravens, and Neil pales a little bit, remembering how his father had said he’d gotten Neil a place on their line-up and finally understanding why

And sometimes he looks at Kevin with blinding jealousy for the life Neil didn’t get to have, and sometimes he sees him nearly comatose with fear and drinking vodka like it’s water, and his stomach hurts thinking how cheerfully his father would have consigned him to the same fate

So canon proceeds and Neil still bitches Riko out on live TV, and Riko still manages to acquire Neil’s fingerprints

And would you believe that? The Foxes mouthy new rookie is [deadname], Nathan Wesninski’s brat?

Well, well, well

At the banquet Riko pokes and prods until Neil finally snaps, and as Dan drags the team away from the wreckage Jean grabs Neil’s arm and says, low and fast in French, You’ll meet with us later

Why the fuck would I do that? Neil demands

Because otherwise everyone will find out that the Butcher is your father

Neil can’t hide his flinch and Kevin’s eyes go wide

They flee the scene, but before they even reach Coach, Kevin is already rounding on Neil

Is it true? He croaks

Not now, Neil says

But Kevin reads confirmation in Neil’s deflection

I didn’t know [deadname] had a brother, he says

Now here is the thing

Names are obviously a touchy subject with a lot of trans people, and certainly with Neil in particular

But with everything that just happened, Neil is a bit preoccupied, and it’s been a long time since he’s associated himself with that name

Since before he stopped using it, truthfully

And so his response is out of his mouth before he can even think twice

“Who?”

Kevin nods seriously, because he is wise to the ways of mafia bosses, and it’s not exactly shocking that Nathan Wesninski had a mistress and a secret second child, especially considering his first child had been a girl

It’s several moments before Neil puts two and two together and realizes that he has inadvertently slipped through a perfect loophole

He’s failed his mother so many times, but at least this secret is still safe, and he clings to that

Neil’s gender doesn’t really affect his interpersonal relationships with the Foxes—he’s already changing out separately, so this isn’t even a whole other thing

It’s harder to hide his testosterone when he’s living in shared dorms, but he has everything in the safe and figures out the safest schedule to open it up when he’s sure Matt will be in class

Andrew finds out when they start hooking up

But remember transphobia isn’t real so it’s sort of more like Andrew goes to undo his pants and is like wait your dick is removeable? Okay.

And then he just gets on with it

So Binghamton and Baltimore happen as canon, and if Neil had ever harboured hopes that his father would forgive him and love him again, they’re broken for good when his father stalks in and sees him shivering and just grins

It is the smile of someone who has torn someone off a pedestal and is going to enjoy reducing them to dust

Nevermind that Nathan had been the one to put him on that pedestal in the first place

Stuart deus-ex-machinas us out of the maws of death and we end up back in that classic Baltimore scene with the Foxes, and they still claim him, and they still take him home

He tells them all about his mafia father and life on the run, and it doesn’t really click until later that he forgot to mention the trans thing

Not like he, you know, has to tell them, and being trans is hardly an issue in Exy since it’s co-ed, but it would probably be nice to see a real doctor instead of keep buying his hormones illegally

And moreover, he wants the Foxes to know him

So they hit the cabin in the mountains and everyone knows Neil doesn’t drink, but when Andrew pours him a shot, he takes it

Ooh, Nicky says, Is Neil about to start spilling his secrets?

Allison snorts. What secrets does he have left?

Uh, Neil says

Wait, Allison says. There’s more secrets????

Yeah, he says. Um, I’m trans

There’s a pause

Well, that’s no good, Allison said. We didn’t have a bet going on that

Everyone laughs, and Neil smiles, and he looks at the sunset and remembers his mother, and he remembers a life filled with hiding, and secrets, and loneliness

Bats swoop in the twilight beyond the cabin, and he turns towards the warmth and light inside, and he does not look back

#self indulgent trans au is self indulgent #my writing #aftg #andreil #trans neil #trans headcanons #this is actually a bit angsty be warned #i was so high on the transphobia doesnt exist part #that i forgot neils whole life is a goddamn tragedy for a seconde #tmmbsbintau

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dreamkidddream · 3 years

Text

So I only have 2 more requests until I close the prompt list quiz, so don’t forget to vote (view my pinned post for the poll)!

But in the mean time, take this small BSD drabble as thanks. I’ve been debating about rewatching it, and I’ve been going through withdrawals of my fav characters 😩 so enjoy this Dazai one shot♥️

Sometimes, you forget how menacing Dazai can be.

The way that his eyes can just bore deep into your soul with ease was terrifying. It was like he’s able to know every little thing about you, that there was no hiding anything from him. For someone who’s eyes can be so gentle, so inviting, turn chilling was very unnerving-

“Give it up, (Y/N). You know you won’t beat me, and you’re only hurting yourself in trying to prove so.”, it seemed like his stare just bore deeper into you, causing your heart to beat even faster. He flashed a tender smile, but you knew it hid malice behind it, “If you give up now, maybe I won’t be punish you too harsh-"

“Never!”, you held strong, you refused to let him best you again. Dazai can just be so damn cocky, always confident that he’ll always have the upper hand in any situation. It gets underneath your skin so bad, and if this was the only way that you can finally beat him in something that so be it. You will not lose to him, not again!

“Hm. Suit yourself. I can do this all day darling, how long can you last? Doesn’t seem like you have much left.”, and you hated that he was right. You feel your will slipping away bit by bit, your body begging you to just stop this and surrender, but you blocked those thoughts out. But no matter how much you tried to hang in, you were starting to give out, and Dazai could tell.

He smirked, leaned in to where your noses were grazing one another’s. He spoke in a serious tone, “Just give in (Y/N), you know you want to”, then he went in for the finishing move. He put his bandaged hand softly on your cheek, you unintentionally leaning into it like you had done so many times. You would curse yourself later for showing weakness, but in the moment you could care less.

You could feel your eye twitching, no you had to hang on, just a little bit longer!-

You blinked.

“I win!”

“DAMN IT! Dazai you cheated!”

He leaned back, laughing lightheartedly. “I did no such thing. It’s not my fault you’re a glutton for punishment.”

“No, you cheated! You’re not suppose to touch the other person, that’s the rules!”

“But yet you didn’t mind it. Actually, if I remember correctly, you even welcomed it. Oh, the little things you do that can make a man swoon! Oh (Y/N), you’re going to be the death of me! Not that I mind~”

You were embarrassed and scorned. Whatever, you’ll know better next time, because next time you will win!

“But enough distracting. I believe that someone has a punishment they have to face. One that I’m looking forward too particularly...”

Oh no.

“Wait Dazai! Give me another round, best two out of three?!”

“Nooope. And no takebacks either. Now, let’s get started!”

...

You hated this.

Okay you were exaggerating, it wasn’t that bad actually, but very embarrassing. You picked at your bunny ears, trying to find something to distract your nerves from. You knew that Dazai lived to fluster you at any given moment, but at least you were in the comfort of your own home and not at the office.

But still, the fact that your own boyfriend wanted you to be his personal bunny servant, was embarrassing in itself. One day you’ll beat him in some challenge, or maybe you’ll be smart enough to stop challenging him one day. Whichever came first.

He only had you doing basic things: getting him drinks, fluffing his pillows, getting the remote that was less than 2 inches from him. Just stuff to drive you crazy and rub in the fact that you got bested. Again.

“(Y/N)? Come here for a sec.”

You started to step towards him, when he suddenly called out again.

“You’re a bunny, so I would rather prefer if you hop instead. It makes sense right? Come on, little bunny, do your hop!~”

Oh, Dazai might get his wish in dying by your hands, because you were ready to strangle him. But, you swallowed whatever remaining pride you had left, and did the tiniest hops known to man his way. Oh, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole at this point!

He ate it up too, locking his eyes on your form, smirk all too satisfying. Luckily, you didn’t have to hop anymore. Unfortunately, it was because he grabbed you up so fast and held you still in his lap.

Curse this man for always finding a way to make you nervous!

He didn’t give you time to be lost in your head, as he softly rubbed your cheek in small circles. He loved having you this way, always wanting to admire you at any chance he could, and this was one of the perfect ways to do so. “Why do you do this to me? Make me feel this way?”

You also loved having Dazai like this because of how open he becomes. Seeing how he shields his true emotions from everyone on a daily basis to seeing him let down his guard to you and just you, was an amazing feeling. It was a special feeling, because not many people could and will never experience it, but you were fortunate enough to be one of those who could.

“I should be asking you that. But it’s good that we’re on the same page, because I really do love you, Osamu. No matter how much you drive me crazy or put your walls up, I won’t be going anywhere no time soon.”

He faintly chuckled and just continued to cherish you. He moved to kiss you, gently molding his lips against yours. After a couple more kisses, he leaned his forehead against yours, feeling at peace for once.

When Dazai was with you, he didn’t have to worry about anything. No Port Mafia, no cases, no horrible memories from his past, nothing. You took his mind off of that, and became the only thing that mattered in the moment. You started out as a needed distraction, but then evolved into something much more. You became his missing piece, with him being so lost and not having a purpose for life, you helped him find one.

You gave him a reason to look forward to waking up everyday, being his one purpose to open his eyes every morning and to not stray from this new path that he’s on. He has his moments where he falters, but you’ve always been patient with him, never leaving even after he’s tried to push you away. You were one stubborn person, but it was worth the troubles that came with it.

“I love you more than you can imagine, (Y/N). More than you’ll ever realize. More than what simple words can be put into. You’re everything to me.”

He’s found one good thing in this world, and he doesn’t plan on losing it. Not now, and not ever.

#bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd imagines #bungou stray dogs reader insert #bsd drabble #bsd dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #bsd dazai #bsd dazai drabble #dazai x reader #dazai drabble #osamu dazai #dazai osamu #oneshot #bsd oneshot #dazai oneshot #bsd dazai oneshot

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flamencodiva · 4 years

Text

Just a Regular Day

Description: Dean has something he wasn’t to talk to his friend Y/N about.

Pairing: High School Senior!Dean Winchester x High School Senior!Female!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, talks about doing sexy stuff, Both Dean and reader are 18!

Beta: @superfanficnatural

Word Count: 1700

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Dean Winchester had been Y/N Y/L/N’s best friend for a long time. High school was the best time for both of them. He was on the wrestling team, and she was at the top of the academic class. No matter the social status, they had remained best friends. It did also help that Y/N took no bullshit from anyone.

Dean had arrived home with a brown paper bag. He rushed up the stairs and to his room, laying on his belly and reaching under the bed for an old Thundercats lunchbox. He popped it open and placed the bag inside.

“Hey, Dean!” a voice called from behind him.

Dean glanced quickly over his shoulder and rolled his eyes when he spotted his younger brother, Sam. “Damn it Sammy, what? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

Sam let out a small chuckle, “Mom wants to know what you want for dinner?” the younger Winchester made his way deeper into Dean’s room. “And what are you doing?”

“None of your business, shrimp,” he said as he pushed Sam away from his bed. “You can tell Mom that anything is fine with me as long as there’s pie for dessert.” Dean got up and forgot to put the lunchbox back under his bed.

When Dean tried to push Sam out of the room, Sam took the opportunity to dodge his brother and grab the lunchbox. He was about to pull the bag Dean had put inside when Dean snatched it from him.

“Get out of my room, now,” he growled at his younger brother.

“What’s in the Bag?” Sam asked as he tried to reach for the lunch box. “And why are you hiding it?”

“It’s none of your beeswax!” Dean spat as he tried to wrestle Sam away.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll tell Mom about the party you’re planning for when Dad takes her on that week cruise,” Sam said, glaring at his brother.

“Fine,” Dean hissed, “fine. If you really want to know, it’s a present for Y/N.” He locked up the lunchbox and put it under the bed before ushering Sam out of his room.

“Then why can’t I see it?” Sam huffed.

“Because it is none of your business, now go do your homework or something,” Dean nudged Sam towards his room and sighed when Sam turned around to try and ask more questions. “Or I tell Jess that you love her.”

Sam gave his brother his bitchiest face before making his way back to his room. Dean sighed as he locked his room and made his way towards the stairs. He hoped that Sam wouldn’t be desperate enough to pick his lock and take a peek at what he had bought Y/N. He wanted Y/N to show it off and for everyone to be surprised. After all, this was something he had thought about for a long time. Even though they had only just started dating, Dean couldn’t see himself with anyone else.

“Hey Mom?” Dean called as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Yes Dean,” his mother yelled from the kitchen.

“Can Y/N come over for dinner?” he asked hesitantly.

Mary Winchester turned to her son, wiping her hands with the dish towel, “Sure honey, is everything ok with you two?” she walked up to him and smiled.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “Yeah it’s fine--” he swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat, “we just… you see… I asked her to be my girlfriend and she said yes and --”

“OH! Dean!” Mary hugged Dean tightly before Dean could finish what he was saying. “I am so happy you finally decided to tell her! Your father and I wondered if you would need any help and honestly you two have been best friends for such a long time! I am just so excited!”

“Mom,” he cried, “Mom… can’t breathe!” he tapped her shoulder.

“Oh, sorry hun…. Oh… did you get her something special?”

“Umm, you could call it that…” he blushed.

Mary patted his cheek and went back to preparing Winchester Surprise. It was about the only thing, besides baking pie, that she could make. Dean took notice that his Mother had prepared his favorite pie filling and she had left it right on the counter. He smiled devilishly; he loved pie. Dean was about to take a small bit of the filling when Mary smacked his hand with the spoon.

“I don’t think so,” she said smiling at her son, “go wash up, your father should be home soon and dinner will be ready.”

He shook his hand and laughed, leaving the kitchen. He had reached the first step on the staircase when he heard a knock on the door. Looking at his wrist watch, he smiled brightly as he dashed for the door, opening it to find Y/N. He could feel his heart pound in his chest as he took in the sight of her. She blushed slightly and bit her lip before shyly looking up at him.

“Hey, you made it just in time,” he gave her a chaste kiss and grabbed her hand and led her towards the staircase.

“Dean, who was at the door?” Mary called from the kitchen.

“Hi Mrs. Winchester,” Y/N called as Dean let out a small groan.

“Y/N,” he whispered, “she’s going to talk your ear off now.”

Y/N jabbed him in the ribs before turning to smile sweetly at Dean’s Mom, “How are you doing Mrs. Winchester?”

“Y/N, you know better than that,” Marry chuckled as she pulled her in for a hug. “You know you can call me Mary.”

“Mom, we gotta go study now,” Dean interjected.

“He’s right, Mrs--” she stopped when Mary raised her eyebrow at her, “Mary. We have a big test coming up and we can’t have our star Wrestler not able to compete because of his low G.P.A.”

“Alright,” Mary said eyeing them suspiciously, “dinner should be ready soon.”

“Okay, Ma,” Dean said as he took Y/N’s hand, pulling her with him up the stairs and towards his room.

Once inside his room, Dean closed the door and pinned Y/N to it. His lips found hers in a soft and chaste kiss before her arms wrapped around his neck, deepening it. She giggled as his mouth moved from her lips, to her jaw, and down her neck. It made his heart race when she giggled.

“Dean, your mom is down stairs, and we just started dating,” she whispered.

“Not like we haven’t done it before,” Dean muttered with a smile, “there was that time after practice in Baby’s back seat,” he reminded her. “We can be quiet… well mostly,” he wiggled his eyebrows- making her laugh. “Come here,” he led her to the bed.

“What is it? I came for dinner and I need to check the mail when I get home, acceptance letters are coming,” she said, tilting her head curiously. “Besides, we should really study for our test.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean said, waving her off. “But there is something I have to give you.”

Dean reached under his bed to find the lunchbox, only, it was gone. He dropped to the floor with a hard thud and searched frantically.

“What is it?” Y/N asked as she moved off the bed and to the floor. “What are you looking for?”

“Um, give me a sec babe,” he let out a nervous laugh, “make yourself comfortable. I need to step out and ask Sammy something,” Dean rushed out of the room and to Sam’s.

Stomping towards Sam's room, Dean tested the knob to find it unlocked. Pushing the door open, he froze at the sight of Sam with the ring he bought Y/N in his hand. If Sam had lost the ring, Dean was sure that he would have murdered his brother.

“Give that back,” Dean growled, “or I’m going to make sure I’m an only child.”

“Are you going to marry her?” Sam asked, diffusing Dean quickly.

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. How could he tell his baby brother that he’d have dreams of spending the rest of his life with Y/N. The fact that his first wet dream wasn’t about his first girlfriend, but of his best friend.

Walking up to Sam’s bed, Dean sat by his brother, “It’s a promise ring, and her favorite stone,” he held out his palm, hoping that Sam would put the ring on it. “I’m not going to lie. I’ve been thinking about being with Y/N for a long time. She’s my best friend, and--”

“You love her,” Sam finished. “You love her enough to promise that you two will be together for a long time?”

“I hope so,” Dean said, “I mean, we only just started really dating and saying the big ‘L’ word might be too soon. But I know that I can’t see my life without Y/N in it.”

“But what about college?” Sam asked. “If you don’t go--”

“No one said anything about not going, Sammy,” Dean sighed. “We applied to the same colleges, not to mention I’ve been studying my ass off so I can get into some good programs. Now, can I please have my ring back?” Dean asked as he gave his brother a pleading look.

“Think Jess and I could be as happy as you and Y/N are going to be?” Sam said as he handed Dean the ring.

“Don’t know,” Dean shrugged as he made his way towards Sam’s door, “you’d need to stop being a goober for that to happen.”

“Shut up, Jerk,” Sam laughed, throwing a pillow at Dean who dodged.

“Back at ya, Bitch,” Dean let out as he rushed back towards his room.

Sam could hear the excited yells and a thud coming from Dean's room. Shaking his head, he laid down on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He was only hoping that when he finally had the courage to kiss Jess, things would work out like they did for his brother.

Tags!

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@crashdevlin @waywardbeanie @deanmonandnegansbitch @impala-1979 @whatareyousearchingfordean @malfoysqueen14 @divadinag @deanwanddamons @jensengirl83 @erins-culinary-service @anathewierdo @superfanficnatural @emoryhemsworth @janicho88 @talesmaniac89 @smol-and-grumpy @atc74 @msmarvelouswinchester @holylulusworld @ellewritesfix05 @akshi8278 @donnaintx @vicmc624 @chocolateheart @deangirl93 @winchest09 @katehuntington @teresa-67 @miss-nerd95 @jawritter @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @supernatural-love14 @foxyjwls007 @lunarmoon8 @wonder-cole @quxxnxfhxll

#FlamencoDiva #AU Dean Winchester #AU Fic #Supernatural AU #AU Sam Winchester #Supernatural Fiction #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester Fic #Dean Winchester x Female!Reader #Female!Reader Insert #FlamencoDiva Writes #Oneshots #Drabbles #High School AU

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cellard0ors · 4 years

Text

Fic: Into The Night

This was SUPPOSED to be posted around @nekoaimy BD and Halloween, but then LIFE happened.

With my OWN BD coming up, I felt this was still good to post. Might write more to this one day. For now just a one off. Inspired by artwork aimy did, but with the added twist of Halloween costumes - lol.

Ford stands by the punch bowl grousing and feeling like an idiot. The first is because he's being forced to attend a Halloween party he doesn't want to. The second is because he's dressed like a cat.

Okay, not a complete cat. There's no tail, thank god - but a black headband with felt black ears was slapped on to his head and painted black whiskers were slanted on his cheeks - a little black dot on the tip of his nose.

The culprit? One Stanley Pines, worst twin (EVER) extraordinaire. Maybe a bit overdramatic, true, but this is all Stan's fault.

Ford had been minding his own business in their shared room when he'd been ambushed. What started off as a normal wrestling match between brothers resulted in Stan pinning him down, painting Ford up with their Mom's eyeliner and him begging Ford to join him at Rachel McCarthy's party.

Mainly because Stan is now eyeing Rachel after the whole Carla fiasco and why Stan wants to date anyone is beyond him.

...alright, this is not entirely true either. Ford gets why dating might be fun, but considering who he'd like to date, well...

Ford can easily say having six fingers on each hand is the least freakish thing about him. Not that Stan will ever, ever, ever, EVER know that. Nor will anyone else. Ford will take his secret shame to the grave.

Grave. Halloween. How fitting.

Regardless, Stan tossed the cat get-up on him, begged him to go to this thing, and now here Ford stands, everything full circle.

Stan, for his part, seems to be having a grand old time. Their mother's green eyeshadow is powdered all over his face and his hair has been lightly slicked down. Screw bolts have been tacked to either side of his neck to complete the monster ensemble and frankly, Ford worries about what kind of adhesive his twin used to accomplish this.

It wouldn't be the first time Stan got something almost permanently stuck to him. Ford keeps hoping for a last, but knows that will probably never happen...lovable, infuriating fool...

Ford really does need to start thinking seriously about looking into colleges. He's been playing Stan, saying he'll join him on their ship, but he knows that's a recipe for disaster.

Stuck alone on a ship with the object of his forbidden desires? Yeah, thanks but no thanks. Sure, Stan will be sour about the whole thing, but better they part then Ford potentially do something unforgivable.

Like kiss the breath out of the big, handsome, stupid-!

"Bro, what are you doing?"

Ford snaps out of his thoughts as Stan approaches him. He blinks and tries to be normal, "Nothing "

"Exactly. Nothing," Stan throws an arm around him, shakes him amiably, "Come on, join the party! You're next to the punch bowl - grab a drink, mingle, have fun!"

Ford carefully extracts himself from his brother's grip, frowning, "I agreed to come with you, Stanley. Not engage in the festivities. The punch is heavily spiked, there's no one here I wish to talk to, and this is miles from what I would constitute as 'fun'."

“Aw, don’t be like that, Sixer! Loosen up!” Stan pulls a face, bottom jaw jutting out, eyes rolling upwards as he growls, “Frankenstein say party gooood.”

“...you know you’re not Frankenstein right?”

“What’re you talkin’ about?” Stan tugs at one of the bolts, “Think I did a pretty good with the costume last minute an’ all...”

“Frankenstein is the name of the main protagonist in the novel, Stanley. The doctor. The creature he creates is not, in point of fact, named Frankenstein.”

Ford once again questions how he can love someone who can give him such a blank face only to follow it up with a raspberry and an eye roll, “Yeah, like anyone past nerds’ll think of that.”

“Are you calling me a nerd?”

“I’ll call you whatever you want if, you know,” he wiggles his eyebrows, “You play it a lil’ cooler.”

Ford scoffs, “And why on earth should I do that?”

“Because you’re bringing people down, man,” Stan whispers this to him as if it’s a terrible secret, “Missy Caldwell told me that Rachel was thinkin’ about busting out some kissin’ games! You know, like Spin the Bottle and Seven Minutes in Heaven and the like. but then she saw you over here, looking like the kid picked last for dodgeball and it kinda killed the mood!”

Ford looks over to see that Rachel is, indeed, standing with Missy and a large group of girls. They are whispering to one another and looking in his direction. Rachel, in particular, is wearing a sort of judging expression. The fact that Stan would take her concerns over his...

And why shouldn’t he? His thoughts whisper. You’re his brother. You’re supposed to have his back. Be there for him as much as he’s there for you. He wants to kiss Rachel. It’s normal for him to want to kiss Rachel. He can’t know that you want to kiss him. He should NEVER know that. Should never even consider it.

Ford knows his thoughts are correct. They are smart. Logical. Everything he has always vowed himself to be. And yet...

...and yet.

“Look, just...” Stan waves at his face, “Give ‘em a smile. A little sign that you’re fine.”

Ford doesn’t feel much like smiling, but he gives it his best shot. It must be pretty bad, because Stan winces, “Yeesh.”

His lips drop, “No good?”

“You look like you just chugged the kool-aid at a cult meetin’.”

That actually gets a genuine smile, a laugh, and Stan beams, pointing at him, “See? That’s much better!”

Ford shakes his head, “What can I say? You always manage to get a rise out of me.”

The words leave and he feels a whiplash of heat wash over him. Shoot! Was that too suggestive? Apparently not, because Stan’s grin just grows, “That’s my job, bro! Keepin’ you from being too stuck in the mud! Now come on...”

He puts a big arm around Ford’s shoulders and drags him over to the group of girls. Rachel appears much mollified now, as do Missy and the others. They’re all girlish giggles and coquettish smirks and Rachel sends some of the gals to collect the other boys, to set everything in order for a game of Spin the Bottle.

While she does this, Stan drags Ford to one side again, hissing, “Alright, Sixer - now’s the time I need your big brains.”

“Wh-? How-? Why?” Ford stumbles over the questions, because as far as he can tell, they’re all intrinsically linked together. Stan explains, “You can like, tell me the best way to spin the bottle. Use maths and wind velocity and science to tell me how best ta make sure it lands on Rachel.”

“I...” Ford starts, but then someone walks up to them. It’s Becky Gilmore, another girl from Rachel’s pack, and she bats her eyelashes at them as she plays with a strand of her dark hair, “Hi! Hey, uh, can-can I talk to Stanford for a sec?”

“He’s Stanford,” Stan points to him even as Ford says, “I’m Stanford.” Both sound surprised as they give this information, but Becky is unfazed, “Um, yeah - I know. Look, can I just-?”

She sneaks out one slim hand to grab at one of Ford’s wrists, dragging him away from Stan who - clearly thinking this is a good thing - gives his brother a big smile and two thumbs up. Once out of Stan’s earshot, Becky says brightly, “’Key, so, Rachel’s like, all about your brother. Like, he has acne and whatever, but she totally wants to kiss him.”

Ford does his best to parse her words, separating the good from the bad, and doing his oh, so best not to comment on the bad, because it really gets his goat, teeth on edge at the acne remark. But Becky, clueless, just continues on, “I think maybe she’s trying to make Joey jealous, ‘cause I know they broke up about three weeks ago and she’s pretty sure he’s running around with Cheryl Manchino and we all know about Cheryl Manchino-”

(Actually, Ford knows nothing about Cheryl Manchino.)

“-but my point is, we definitely need to get your brother to lock lips with Rachel, but with the way the circle’s looking that might be problematic with you there, not to mention I mean, you’re - I mean, you’re cute and all and totally smart but like, I mean, I would never want to offend you or anything, but, okay - you get what I’m saying, right?”

Ford, amazingly, does get what Becky is saying.

His face colors and he hides his hands behind his back and feels like complete trash. Becky, seeming to pick up on this somewhat, lightly taps one of his shoulders, “Aw! There, there, kitty kitty! You wouldn’t’ve enjoyed this game anyway, right?”

“...no.” his voice is so soft as to be near silent, “I suppose not.”

“Great!” Becky returns with the same amount of sparkle she uses on the cheerleading field, “Then how’s about you set your brother riiiiiight-” she drags the word out as she looks around the circle, before pointing to a certain spot, “-there! Rachel and us girls are going to make sure the bottle picks him for sure. And you can stand on the sidelines in case we need an assist, ‘kay?”

Ford nods numbly and Becky bounces off. When he returns to Stan, he does his best to play stoic.

He fails miserably.

“Whoa,” Stan breathes, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“That ain’t ‘nothing’,” Stan says pointing at his face, “That’s ‘Crampelter gave me shit’ face and he ain’t here. So? What is it?”

“I told you,” Ford hisses, “Nothing.”

“What did Becky say to you?” Stan asks and there’s such heat in the question. Anger and accusation and Ford pushes up his glasses and pours on the ice, “It’s not important. You’re going to miss out on the game, Stanley. Now, you asked for my help and considering the curvature of the bottle and the state of the floor I would suggest sitting-!”

“I suggest you tell me what she said before I make a scene,” the words sizzle out of Stan’s mouth and close to Ford’s ear, nearly scalding it and Ford can feel the barely leashed fury rolling off his brother in waves and he starts shaking his head, “You know, maybe I just don’t want to talk about it, Stanley! Did you ever think of that?”

Stan actually stands up straighter, looking startled, “Holy shit...what did she say?”

Ford lets out an aggravated breath and points to the exact spot Becky indicated, “You want your kiss? You want Rachel? SIT. DOWN. THERE. I’ll be outside!”

With that said, Ford exits the house. He starts walking down the neighborhood street, but he doesn’t get far before he’s being yanked back, Stanley’s hand turning him around roughly, “Just where the hell do you think you’re-?!”

“DO YOU WANT TO KISS HER OR NOT?!” the shout escapes Ford before he can leash it and it seems to echo in the empty streets. Thankfully Rachel’s neighbors seem to be tucked in for the night and no one left her house to follow them.

Stan, regardless, shushes him even as he seethes, “Not more than I want to know whatever the hell is up with you! You’ve been sulking all night, Sixer - hell, you been sulking the past couple of weeks if we’re gonna be honest about it!”

Ford looks down at his feet, kicks at the pavement even as Stan charges on, “Then Becky pulls you aside and whatever she says seems to be the last straw and I don’t get-!”

“She said I shouldn’t play, alright!” Ford snaps, “She said I should-should sit the game out and that Rachel wants to kiss you and-and...” he falters, drops off, because he doesn’t want to hurt Stan’s feelings.

He doesn’t want to tell him about the comments on his acne or how he might just be a ploy in some plot to make someone jealous because he does want his brother to have something nice - even if it’s fleeting, “And you should go back in there and get what you want!”

“...Becky said you shouldn’t play?”

“She-she figured I-I wouldn’t enjoy it anyway and she’s...she’s not wrong...”

“No,” Stan breathes in loudly through his nostrils, his hands curling into fists, “She’s wrong. She’s very wrong and if she wasn’t a girl, I’d pound her right in the face!”

“Stanley,” Ford sighs, suddenly very, very tired, “You shouldn’t want to pound anyone in the face. Boy or girl. And certainly not for my sake.”

“Whose sake would it be for then?” Stan returns, “I’ve told you time and time again, I’m here for you. I’ll protect you, I’ll-!”

“You won’t always be there for me, Stanley.”

This remark stops Stan short. Makes his eyes widen in alarm, “What-? What does that mean?”

“...I think you know.”

“I sure as fuck don’t!”

“Language, Stanley.”

“Fuck your language!” Stan growls and comes closer. He gets in Ford’s personal space and Ford can feel the heat radiating off him. He’s very much the monster he’s dressed as - exuding power and force and deadly seriousness as he looks at him, “I will always be there for you. Always.”

Ford lets out a sad, watery sound. He looks away and there’s a restless wind that seems to rise up, to play with his hair and suddenly Stan touches his chin, directs his face back to him, “Look at me.”

The touch is clearly just meant to direct his eyes, but Ford feels it zip throughout his entire central nervous system, feels it shoot out his toes as he looks into Stan’s eyes and his twin says, “Stanford, you ain’t never got to keep anything from me. Alright? You ain’t gotta hide or-or keep to yourself. Thinkin’...thinkin’ maybe now this is why you’ve been poutin’ so much lately, huh? You think we’re going to be apart?”

“Stanley...”

“That I’m not going to be there for you? Because I will be, Sixer. Always and forever. You should know that.”

Another sigh, “Rachel...”

“She’s just some broad,” Stan promises, and then, with a chuckle, “A cute one, but just the same. She’s not as important as you are. Never will be.”

“You-” Ford swallows around a big lump in his throat, his heart aching, “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“Why not? You’re family.”

And it’s that, that last word, that helps Ford grab a hold of his senses. He gulps and lets out a shaky laugh, “Uh, yeah - yeah. I am. And, uh, as your family - I...I think you should go back in there. Get your big kiss.”

Stan seems to thinking it over, but more for show than anything, as he cracks with a laugh, “Nah, forget it. Plenty of fish in the sea.”

The breath that leaves Ford sounds as if he’s pushing off a sob. Which makes sense. Ford feels like sobbing. He feels strangely vulnerable and exposed. More so when Stan just. Keeps. Pushing. “’Sides, if they’re not going to let you play...”

“I told you,” Ford manages weakly, pathetically, “Becky wasn’t wrong. I don’t want to play.”

Stan doesn’t say anything for awhile and it’s good. It’s great. Ford can feel his lungs filling with air, can feel his sanity returning, can feel himself pushing away from the ledge of tears. Stan didn’t mean for the things he said to sound so-so romantic. So much what Ford wants to hear.

He was being a good brother.

Ford wants to do the same - needs to do the same.

But then.

“Stanford, any...any of those girls would be lucky to kiss you...”

And that’s it.

It’s the funniest thing.

That’s the thing that breaks Ford. That’s the thing that pushes him over that ledge. That’s the thing that leads him to cry out, “I don’t WANT to kiss THEM, Stanley! I WANT-! I want-!”

And Stan’s looking at him as if he’s never seen him before. As if Ford is some stranger - raving and demonic and he is - he truly is. Because with an anguished whimper, he grabs Stan and forcibly tugs him over. He seals his lips over Stan’s.

He kisses him.

Ford kisses Stanley.

The sound of pure shock that leaves Stan sears Ford’s soul and Ford catches a glimpse of Stan’s eyes - big and round and white. Startled. Stunned. Maybe even terrified. So he closes his own as he brushes his tongue against his twin’s inert mouth, as he eases just so between the seam of them to get the taste he’s always feverishly dreamed of and then-!

Ford pushes him away as hard as he can, as hard as he tugged him over to begin with. He pushes him away and with a choked ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’ he runs. He runs and runs. He runs off into the dark Halloween night and prays that Stan will forget what happened.

#stancest #my writing #nekoaimy #gift

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absconditus--praenomen · 3 years

Text

I’ve Been Toying with Some Ideas

TL;DR [minus the unapologetic tangenting (I regret nothing)]:

I’ve been entertaining the idea of recording my voice to practice reading/reciting poems, narrating pieces I find interesting in general, and maybe even singing/music as well.

I find it to be an intriguing option for many reasons ranging from personal growth, to the chances for simple celebration of art, and to the potential it could hold as a platform for human interaction, interaction that could very well go beyond me, or any single human for that matter, really, because it’s interaction that’s born from existing as humans along side one another. But no, say I really were to consider playing with this idea in a more serious sense, maybe bring it to life, would anyone happen to have suggestions for reading material to record with, or perhaps something more musical for me to record vocals? Seriously, I’m curious, ahaha! :)

_- -____________________________=____________________________- -_

I’ve been thinking about practicing reciting/reading poetry (and any reading material I find interesting, really) aloud and recording myself. I love to perform actually, fun fact ahaha! But no, I was thinking about doing that, as well as singing perhaps, and then I considered it might be fun to upload it (here or on YouTube channel I’d make specifically for this blog and link to it in the pinned post) and just see what happens.

While I am no stranger to public speaking, and even enjoy it in ways at times, I think it’d be helpful practice and a good learning opportunity for me. I have an auditory processing disorder, ADHD, and dyslexia so (in regards to my personal symptoms/experiences with said conditions, of course) it’s not too surprising that there’s some aspects of language that have an increased tendency to trip me up. It might be interesting to practice in such a fun way.

Also, and more specifically in correlation to my hearing impairments, I’d be fascinated if I could learn anything about my voice or sound as a whole. While I do of course research these things that interest me, there’s still value in more anecdotal(?) research, and there’s still a difference in practice versus study. My hearing is impaired as a result of my brain not processes sound as it should which, for me at least, entails a variety of interesting repercussions-

(Do you appreciate my partially/mostly accidental, loosely existing percussion pun? I do. I mean it’s not my strongest pun but that’s certainly no requirement for me to appreciate the beautiful example of language arts which puns stand as evidence to!)

[Fu*k, now I need to remember what I was writing, one sec. And yes, we are going to ignore the suggestion that my comment at the end of my previous sentence is in some lights unnecessary, not because it is invalid to suggest things but because I have considered such a suggestion already and have deemed it completely irrelevant to my enjoyment of spontaneous and debatably inconsequential tangents. Sure, I could edit this out but I’m quite, perfectly happy to leave this artifact of humanity, this thing which we collective agree to be the tangents of an extraordinarily derailed conversation. Though let’s be fair here, ‘extraordinary’ isn’t honestly all that accurate. This really isn’t an impressive tangents given my capabilities. To say I have extraordinarily derailed this conversation would be a gross underestimate of my skills. Not that I have particularly been trying to derail this line of conversation, just that I’m aware of certain habits I’ve been observed to possess and proficiency in expanding the field of conversation, so to say, as well as any of the other things which I could from my, evidently, no shortage of further additions I could continue this list with, a list which I admittedly only remember the purpose of thanks to my oddly specific, good memory and not my piss poor figment of an attempt to keep track of what I intended to be a brief mini tangent before I started wrapping up my main surprise secondary topic of conversation. So back to why we’re ignoring the theoretical suggestion at the beginning of this tangent in brackets (--> [ ]*). We’re going to ignore also because my quiet laughter in amusement from the notion of creative time fuckery which could be borne from a blog post and fully embraced choice to indulge in confident, blatant tangent-ery is, perhaps not so shockingly, prime kindling for some hot topics to visit with this train of thought, and therefore not conducive to actually remembering where I was in my main point. Ah, ok, I got it! I was about to mention how my hearing impairment impacts the way I interpret speech and voices such as my own!]

-such as how I perceive voices, including my own. Basically what I’m getting at is I can’t really describe voices or pick out vocal characteristics too well, this goes for my own voice as well. So I’d be totally fascinating to see if/what I could gleam about my voice, and my hearing itself from the experience if I were to bring my experimental ideas to fruition.

It would be interesting to see if this would be a good outlet for emotional and/or artistic expression or perhaps a good way for me to keep up with practicing and maintaining singing (and vocal skills in general too come to think of it!).

On top of everything though I honestly just would be interested in this sort of thing myself ahaha! And also I so think it could totally provide a potential platform for some seriously cool human interactions, you know! But no, I’m thinking I may consider these ideas in some earnest.

Obviously I would remain anonymous still (it’s a personal preference of mine). I mean, I don’t believe my voice to be all that recognizable; any time I’ve heard my voice describe I’m told it’s calming/soothing but I don’t believe it’s been called unique/distinctive in particular. Sure, there’s been times my voice was describe as relaxing/soothing (maybe something else - “nice”? idk, I’m neutral to my voice for the most part as purely a sound (I love it because it’s mine, though)) so I can’t say I personally understand but I appreciate the thought given in their observations and their compliments regardless, but I doubt my voice sticks out, so to say, or leaves an impression. In other words, I think I could possibly comfortably maintain my anonymity if I ever were to legitimately try my hand at voice recording. I am a bit of a paranoid bastard admittedly though ahaha!

Still, say I were to some day play with this idea in a more serious way, would there be any suggestions for my subject material you’d like to offer? Hypothetically speaking, of course ;)

#human interaction #and whatever the fu*k it entails.#It could be boisterous; found from lively meme spam.#Maybe it takes shape in the typed lines of messages while chilling in the comments.#The living quiet brought by a lurker come to chat in their mother tongue of silence;#I see you or I don’t if that’s not cool you’re more than entitled to your privacy friend #(trust me I was nye a total lurker for quite a fair number of years I really fuck*ng understand mate don’t worry ahaha!)#still whatever you may offer as human interaction will be loved for its existence all the same.#The previous tags were a part I cut from TL;DR but still felt like an honorable mention #debatably gratuitous tangents #i regret nothing #you're loved; get fucked #the first part was mostly just a good general reminder #unapologetic derailing of post #remorselessly going on tangents #narration #voice recording #art #celebrating art #adhd #dyslexia #auditory processing disorder #fuck 'conventional' organization in these tags today #singing #i could narrate horror #I could also #narrate poetry #any poem I'd be comfortable with narrating - my own included #I could definitely try my hand at #rap

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littlelovelyspiderling · 4 years

Text

Finger Painting

this has been sitting in a google doc for a while cuz it’s not my favorite but I might as well post it cuz I haven’t posted in a hot sec

Peter decides to prank his teammates in attempt to cheer everyone up, only for his teammates to prank him back using their new favorite mood-lifting method.

words: 4,010

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Peter Parker loved pranks. Who didn’t?

Growing up, he and his uncle used to engage in long, elaborate prank wars all the time, each trying to one up the other. The mischievous game of back and forth never ceased to leave them both in stitches. Nowadays, May rarely passed up the opportunity to douse his food in pepper flakes or splash him with water while they were cleaning the dishes together. It was her way of keeping Ben’s playful legacy alive.

And after all of the pain and suffering the Avengers had gone through over the past year, Peter figured it was time to bring some of that playfulness to the team.

Initially, he planned to prank each member one at a time. While the spar room was empty, Peter had snuck in with his means of destruction. He and Stark were going to test how effective his spidey sense was at warning him of impending threats when he couldn’t see them coming. Little did Tony know the blindside that was coming his way.

He waited on the ceiling, grinning sinisterly as approaching footsteps met his ears. But to his surprise, it sounded like more than one pair of feet. Voices joined the footfalls as the door opened, and Stark, Sam, and Rhodes entered the room.

“—test his response to multiple attacks from different directions,” Tony said, shutting the door behind them. Then he stared forward, finding the space before him vacant, and a frown gnarled his features. “Wait, where the hell did he—?”

Three birds, one stone, Peter thought. I’ll take it. Triumphantly, Peter tore the webbing away. In an instant, fifty water balloons filled with paint rained down from the ceiling and pummeled the men below, dousing them in explosions of color. Startled cries and yelps jumped from their lips until the assault finally subsided. The superheroes were left stunned and soaked from head to toe, sputtering in disbelief as a waterfall of laughter came pouring from overhead.

“Haha!” Peter howled. Everyone looked up at him bewilderedly. “Thihis is so much better than I expehected! Your fahaces—oho gahad—I cahan’t!”

He knelt upside-down and doubled over with giggles. Stark scoffed, tongue-in-cheek.

“Peter? You did this?”

Rhodey wiped his eyes and blinked repeatedly. “That certainly was…unexpected.”

“You little punk!” Sam hollered, flicking the paint from his hands in disgust. “Oh, you are so asking for it.”

Spider-Man didn’t seem to be listening to them. He was too busy laughing his ass off and pounding his fist against the ceiling. Seeing some of the world’s most famous superheroes dripping in paint was just too hilarious. Despite how annoyed they were with his prank, the Avengers couldn’t help but smile at the kid’s hysterical reaction.

“Oh mahan, I cahan’t breathe,” Peter wheezed. “This is the best day ever.”

“Come down here,” Sam said. “I think I can change your mind.”

Spider-Man shook his head while giggles continued to spill from his lips. Tony ran his fingers through his paint-soaked hair and grinned at the others.

“Come on guys, don’t be such sticks in the mud. The kid’s just trying to have a little fun. Right, Spidey?”

Peter was surprised how well Mr. Stark was taking an ass-load of paint-filled water balloons to the face. He nodded between chuckles. “I mean, yeah. You’ve all seemed kinda down lately. I was just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Oh, of course. We all understand.” Stark glanced between the other three men. “You know what? I think it’s time we followed Pete’s lead and had a little fun of our own. What do you say, fellas? You in?”

Peter’s giggling faltered. Sam and Rhodey shared a knowingly diabolical grin.

“Hell yeah we are.”

Before Spider-Man could ask what they meant by that, Sam pulled a metal rod from his belt and flung it at Peter as hard as he could. Spider-Man barely flinched out of the way, his spidey sense triggering his reflexes an instant quick enough. Not a second later, a taser round and a stun blast flew at him and struck the ceiling mere inches from his body. He stared down at the group with wide eyes.

“Here’s a fun idea: let’s see how long his dumb second sense thing can keep him safe from our vengeance.”

“Wait—hey—guys—it was just a joke—”

Projectiles started zipping towards him, one after the other, promising a world of pain if they hit their target. Peter scrambled across the ceiling with a yelp, shuddering at the idea of what they would do to him if he was caught. This was not the kind of retaliation he was used to.

“Come on! I used washable paint!”

“Spread out,” Tony instructed his drenched, candy-colored team. “Don’t give him any place to hide.”

Sam and Rhodey did as they was told. At least none of them we wearing their full avenging outfits; if that was the case, he’d be toast in an instant.

Peter ducked and flipped and somersaulted through the air as rounds and objects whooshed past him in a relentless wave. The room was big, but not big enough for him to evade three attackers forever. His spidey sense was in constant tingle mode. All right, that’s it. Peter cartwheeled across the ceiling and fired a glob of webbing at Sam, which glued his arm to his side. While the middle was exposed, Spider-Man threw himself between Tony and Rhodes and shot a web-splat into both of their faces, rendering them blind for a moment. The distraction offered Peter the opportunity to stick to the door and pull with all his might.

But it was locked. And he didn’t know how to open it. Spider-Man was trapped.

And since he’d doused all of his enemies in paint, it didn’t take them long to free themselves from the webbing. As Peter cursed and darted back up the wall, Stark shot at him with his watch-gauntlet. The projectile hit Spider-Man’s left hand.

“Ow!” He flinched, nearly losing his hold on the ceiling. Peter held his stinging hand to his eyes. A strange metal block was stuck to it. To his disbelief, the metal started spreading over his palm, up his fingers, thickening rapidly. It looked an awful lot like Tony’s nano-tech. When he tried to pull it off with his other hand, the metal film spread to that one, too. Soon enough, both hands were shrouded in thick metal prisons. Not only did they make his hands incapable of sticking to any surface; now he could no longer fire his web-shooters.

“Crap! What is this?” Peter yelled, sprinting across the ceiling. He dodged another one of Sam’s projectile attacks, but that led to a misstep, giving Stark the chance to hit his right foot with another chunk of nano-bots. Peter froze and flailed with only one foot stuck to the ceiling: his last line of defense against the unforgiving consequences waiting for him down below. If he lost his hold, he was done for.

“Ah! W-wait!” He dangled helplessly by his toes, a sitting duck. Then Tony hit his left foot with nano-tech the same time Rhodey fired a stun blast into his back. Spider-Man dropped from the ceiling and hit the floor with a grunt, sprawled flat like roadkill.

“Ow…ugh…” he groaned. He tried to reach up and rub at the bump on his head, but his arm wouldn’t move. Neither of his arms would. In fact, all of his limbs were pinned to the ground. Peter looked at his wrists to discover the nano-tech had morphed into clasps that were firmly glued to the floor. The same went for the nano-bots on his ankles.

“What the—?” he cried. “I can’t move!” Sam, Rhodes, and Stark converged on him, smiling viciously.

“Gotcha,” Wilson sneered. Spider-Man grimaced and struggled against the restraints.

“Come on, guys. Why are you being so mean? I was just trying to cheer everyone up.”

“You did,” Tony replied enthusiastically. “Now we’re just returning the favor.”

“I don’t think you understand how pranks work,” Peter huffed. “Attacking me does not make me very cheery.”

“True,” Sam concurred, kneeling beside the young hero, “but if my memory serves correctly, I’m pretty sure this does.”

Sam reached out and gently fluttered his fingertips against Peter’s tummy, causing the teen to cringe. It was the last sensation he expected to feel, yet he should have seen it coming. The three of them knew all too well how ticklish poor Spider-Man was.

“Aha!” he squeaked, dread rushing through him and blush consuming his face. “N-noho! No it doesn’t!”

“Really?” Sam asked. He swirled his index finger in a long, slow circle across the kid’s belly, smearing his costume with purple paint while also making him twitch and leap. “Because if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were smiling under that mask.”

“Stahap!” Peter giggled. This was so bad. This wasn’t the first time they’d used his extreme ticklishness to torment him, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Except, unlike past instances, in this scenario, he was stuck to the floor—helpless to protect himself. He was totally, utterly screwed. How did he always get himself into messes like this? When would he ever learn? Peter squirmed and wiggled in attempt to get away, but it was no use. He was stuck, restrained, and growing more and more flustered as Sam’s tickly fingers started moving faster and faster across his vulnerable tummy.

“I bet he is smiling,” Rhodes said, sitting on the floor opposite of Wilson. He pinched the top of Spider-Man’s mask. “Why don’t we take this off and see?”

“Noho!” Peter whined as Rhodey pulled his mask off his face, revealing the blushing, smiley teenager underneath. He bit his lip to try to feign composure and stem the endless outpouring of giggles, but was immediately foiled by Sam squeezing both of his sides right above his hipbones. Peter threw his head back with a shriek, floundering like crazy.

“Aw, see?” Tony cooed. “Look at that happy face!”

“I think our prank is really lifting his spirits!” Sam said. He kneaded his thumbs deep into the kid’s torso, chuckling as he jumped and bucked and giggled wildly.

“Nohahat hahappy!” Peter squealed.

“Not happy?” Rhodey repeated, sharing a devious look with his friends. He reached out and spidered his fingers right above the kid’s armpits. “Are you sure? Maybe I should help, then. Your happiness is our number one priority, after all.”

Before Rhodes even touched him, Spider-Man’s giggling jumped higher in both pitch and volume. “N-nohohaha!” he cried, pulling valiantly at the metal cuffs pinning him arms above his head. “Rhohodes, wahait—”

Ignoring him, Rhodey went straight for the kid’s weak spot. He needled and clawed at Peter’s exposed underarms with all ten fingers, switching intensity and tactics every few seconds to keep him guessing. He poked and pinched, then scritched and scratched, then dragged his fingernails up and down the full length of Peter’s arms, all while Sam was busy curling his hands into claws and shaking them into Spider-Man’s ribs and belly. Peter was at his wit’s end being tickled by just one person; he was certain two would be the death of him. And as soon as Rhodey’s fingers made contact with his skin, his suspicions were confirmed.

“AHAAhahahagh!” Peter screeched, whipping his head from side to side. “Shihit—wahahait! I cahahan’t—I cahahahahahaaa!”

“Can’t what?” Sam inquired. “Can’t believe how much we’re cheering you up?”

“Spidey’s got some pretty ticklish underarms, doesn’t he?” Rhodes observed, fluttering his fingers all over the unbelievably sensitive spots.

“He’s ticklish all over. It’s hilarious. Just a little poke here, a little poke there, here a poke, there a poke, everywhere a-poke poke…” Sam jabbed and wiggled his fingers into every inch of the kid’s tiny tummy. As much as he tried to fight it, Peter jolted and squeaked beneath his every touch. It was like they knew exactly what to do to render him a squirming, blushing mess. To be fair, it wasn’t a very difficult feat, and they had experience on their side. This was not the kind of revenge prank Peter had been anticipating. It was unbearably cruel and effective.

As they continued to tickle torture the poor teen, Sam and Rhodes couldn’t help but giggle at the Peter’s childlike laughter. They, like most people who knew the kid well, were starting to understand why Tony was so endeared by him.

Meanwhile, Peter was falling to pieces. His loud, squeaky belly-laughs were rapidly being replaced by hiccups, and the feeling of four hands endlessly teasing and tweaking two of the most ticklish areas of his body was driving him insane. There was nothing he could do but wriggle and twitch and laugh until his sides ached. There was no escape in sight. He had to make it stop.

“Merherhercy! Merhercyhy!” Peter pleaded. “Ihi’m gohonna dihihihie!”

“Can you die from too much happiness?” Tony asked. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

Neither of his tormentors seemed to be listening to him, so Peter turned to his mentor. He looked up at the billionaire from his defenseless position on the floor, tears shining in the corners of his eyes. “M-Mihister Starharhahaaak!” he squealed between another bout hiccups. “Hehehelp me! Plehehehehease!”

Tony tilted his head to the side and smiled sympathetically. Peter was too cute for his own good. “Aw, kiddo. Are you sure we’ve lifted your spirits enough?”

As Stark was saying this, Sam started grinding his knuckles into Peter’s ribcage, and Peter thought he might explode. He arched his spine and squeezed his eyes shut and screeched with helpless laughter.

“Ahaha! Yehehes! Plehehehease! Nohoho morhorhahahahaa!”

“I don’t know,” Rhodes said suspiciously. “Are we sure we’ve gotten him back enough? He did douse us in paint, after all.” James brushed his fingers along the sides of Peter’s neck experimentally and grinned when the kid scrunched his shoulders to his ears with a sharp giggle of surprise. “Damn. You really are ticklish everywhere, aren’t yah?” He scuttled his nails all over Peter’s neck, occasionally drilling his thumbs into the muscle right above his collarbones, and watched as goosebumps flared across what little skin Peter had exposed. The kid thrashed as much as his restraints would allow with a slew of high-pitched laughter.

“I think he needs at least two more minutes of solid cheering up,” Sam said, scratching Peter’s tummy as if he were giving a puppy a belly rub. “Would you care to join us, Mr. Stark?”

Tony sighed as he looked down at the giggly superhero, then smiled. “Two more minutes,” he said adamantly. He sat down by Peter’s twitchy feet and grabbed his left foot in his hand.

“NOHOHO!” Peter begged, trying and failing to wrench his foot free from Stark’s grip. “You ahahahassholes!”

“You want us to make it ten?” Sam inquired. That shut Peter up real quick, though he continued to laugh helplessly.

“I’ve got an idea!” Rhodes said, dipping his hands into a puddle of paint next to Peter’s head. “Why don’t we spend these last couple minutes turning Spider-Man into a lovely finger painting? We shouldn’t let all this perfectly good paint go to waste.”

“Oh, yes! I love that!” Sam dabbed his fingertips into the closest pool of paint, granting Peter a few moments to breathe. “What kind of picture should we paint?”

“Whatever your heart desires.”

Once he was satisfied with his assembled palette, Rhodey started gently gliding his fingers across Peter’s face and ears. Despite his attempts to stave it off, Peter cracked into a smile and giggled softly, scrunching up his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. He’d never considered that they’d use the means of his own prank against him. Talk about rude.

“I think I’ll paint you into a clown,” Rhodes decided. “How does that sound?”

“Stohop!” Peter said, jerking away from Rhodes’ feathery touch. Rhodey grinned.

“If you’re not going to let me paint your face, then I’ll just go back to this.”

With that, Rhodes pounced on his underarms full-force, wrecking him with an entirely new level of tickling intensity. Peter sputtered in surprise before busting out laughing, his head reeling with the need to immediately make the torture stop, even though it had only just started up again two seconds ago.

“AHAHANOHOHAHA! P-pahahaint my fahahace! My fahahace!”

“Good,” Rhodes said triumphantly. He stopped tickling Peter’s armpits and re-wet his hands with fresh paint. Then he began tracing his index finger along Peter’s jawline, followed by his hairline, outlining his face in white paint. His delicate touch tickled Peter like a feather and made him giggle uncontrollably.

“I’m painting the ocean,” Sam announced, scooping handfuls of blue paint into both of his palms. Then he dumped it all on to Peter’s belly and started spreading it everywhere with his hands, causing Peter to cringe and laugh as Sam’s fingers slipped along his sensitive sides and ribcage.

“Hold still,” Rhodey demanded, painting little spots of red on top of his already rosy cheeks.

“Ihi’m tryhyhing!” Peter giggled helplessly. “It’s hahard!” He jumped and squealed when Sam’s fingers crept up to his underarms and started fluttering against the hollows. “Ahahaha! Hehehey!”

“I’m painting you whole torso to look like the ocean! There has to blue everywhere!” he explained. A mischievous sparkle twinkled in his eye. “Let’s see. We need more blue here.” He brought both hands down to the middle of Peter’s tummy and drilled all ten fingers deep into his flesh. Peter leapt and gasp and squirmed with laughter. “And some more here,” he continued, tweaking both of his sides with sharp, quick pinches again and again and again.

“Sahahaham!” Peter cried.

“And perhaps let’s add some…here.”

Two hands were suddenly squeezing Peter’s legs above his kneecaps with needling repetition. The sensation sent shocks up his spine and made him jolt and twist and shriek.

“AHAHACK! NOHO—S-STOHOHAHAHAHAAA!” He bucked and squirmed and laughed himself silly, but Sam kept squeezing. As his hands inched higher and higher up Peter’s legs, his reactions became more and more hysterical. He couldn’t believe how much it tickled. He couldn’t handle another second. But his violent struggling and hiccup-filled laughter only seemed to encourage Sam to squeeze faster and harder.

“His legs are ticklish too?” Tony chuckled. “What part of you isn’t ticklish, kid?”

“His legs are super ticklish,” Sam laughed. “Look how red his face is!”

“HEHEHEHELP!” Peter cackled, balling his hands into fists. Sam was certain he’d explode if he kept this up, so he moved back to the kid’s belly, adding waves and fish to his ocean as Peter giggled breathlessly. “Gah..hah…oho gohohosh…eheeheeheh…”

“What are you going to paint, Tones?” Rhodey asked, dabbing black paint around the kid’s eyes.

Tony drenched his hand in green paint. “I’ll paint him some shoes. Leprechaun shoes. You want some little green leprechaun shoes, kid?”

Peter was too busy giggling dazedly beneath Sam’s tummy tickles and Rhodey’s feathery touches. He’d almost forgotten about Stark’s hand around his foot. He was quickly reminded of the fact when he felt a finger glide up his arch.

“AHA!” Peter squeaked, flinching so much Rhodey smeared paint all over his forehead. “Mihihister Starhark!”

“You said you were going to stay still!” Rhodes chastised him. Tony continued to tickle his foot, adding the rest of his fingers to the equation, and giggles rained from Peter’s lips as his toes twitched in protest.

“I cahahahan’t!” he laughed. Peter’s Spider-Man suit was designed to allow his hands and feet to stick to walls through the fabric, which meant it wasn’t very thick. So it basically did nothing to protect any part of him from tickle attacks, particularly the bottoms of his feet. Stark switched to tickling both of his feet, scurrying his fingers up and down the sides and center of each foot. Peter tried kicking his legs and scrunching up his toes, but it did nothing the deter Tony’s blunt fingernails scouring every ticklish inch of his feet.

Although they were all tickling him relatively gently now, thirty fingers stroking and tweaking his ridiculously sensitive self for as long as they had been was too maddening for words. Peter needed this to end before he died either of laughter or embarrassment.

“Ohohokahay,” he wheezed, his face aching from so much smiling. “Ihi’m cheered uhuhup! Youhou dihihihid it! Now plehehease—plehease just stohohahahahaaa!” His words dissolved into nonsensical giggling when Sam’s fingers returned to his ribs, worming and wiggling between each individual bone.

Rhodey booped his nose with a spot of red paint then looked back at the others. “What do you say? Is our thirst for pranking vengeance quenched?”

“For now, I guess,” Sam said, wiping his hands on the last remaining bit of Spider-Man’s costume that wasn’t splattered with paint. He gave his side a parting squeeze before laying off.

Tony stood and walked to stand by Peter’s head. The kid’s neck and ears were almost the same color as his suit. His clown paint job looked more like a random palette of colors smeared all over his face by someone wearing a blindfold. The poor kid was a Jackson Pollock gone wrong—although that was kinda what they all were at that point. But the wide, exhausted smile on his face filled Stark’s heart with warmth. With a tap on his watch, the nano-tech clasps dissolved away.

“Ihi’m in pain,” Peter moaned, rolling on to his side and curling into a ball. The three Avengers standing over him chuckled.

“Next time, don’t dump paint on your teammates,” Sam retorted.

“I juhust…wanted to…cheeheer you up…” he giggled quietly. “Uhuhugh…”

“Oh, you did,” Rhodey reassured him. “I am one hundred percent cheered up.”

“Me too,” Tony concurred. “You wholeheartedly succeeded.”

“Now I know exactly what to do when me or you or anyone else is bummed out,” Sam said. “Just a little poke, and then…”

Sam reached down and jabbed Peter’s side with his index finger. Immediately, the kid squeaked out a laugh and hugged himself around the middle.

“See? Instant serotonin.”

“Stohohop!” Peter giggled. “Let me lihihive…”

“Are you okay, kid?” Tony asked with sudden earnest, offering him a hand. Peter hesitated before accepting it, feeling wired and tingly as he rose to his feet, his belly still bubbling with giggly butterflies.

“Yeah,” he finally answered, unable to wipe the dopey smile from his face. “I just…ugh. I dohon’t understand why you guys have to escalate things so quickly. Why couldn’t you just put dye in my shampoo or dump malic acid on my pizza like normal people? Why do you always end up doing…that to me?”

“What, tickling you?” Sam smiled crookedly and made a move for his tummy, but Peter flinched out of the way this time. “Because it’s fun to watch you squirm.”

“And no matter how many times we do it, you react just as wildly. With your squirming and screeching and cute little hiccup-laugh.”

Peter’s face went hot. “It’s not…cute,” he murmured.

“I have half a mind to tickle you until you admit it’s cute,” Tony chuckled. When Peter’s eyes went wide, Stark held up his hands. “Not right now. Don’t worry. I think you’ve had enough for today.”

Rhodes patted Peter on the shoulder. “Come on, though—seriously. Is your mood not the tiniest bit improved after all that smiling and laughing?”

As much as Peter hated to admit it, he did feel more peppy and alive now than he had pre-tickle attack. He was certainly more smiley and giggly—that he couldn’t even attempt to hide.

“I mean…maybe,” he ventured to say. When he realized everyone was grinning at him, he backtracked. “But, like, not enough to be worth going through that! You people are evil!”

“We sure are,” Sam said sinisterly. “And we won’t let you forget it.”

Peter swallowed and picked his mask up off the floor, which was smeared with paint like the rest of him. “We didn’t even finish the spidey sense test thing we came in here for.”

“Let’s save that for another day,” Stark said, ruffling Peter’s paint-spattered hair. “I think we all could use a shower.”

After all was said and done, Peter was glad he had managed to brighten everyone’s day, even if it wasn’t through the method he’d intended.

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alagalaska · 4 years

Text

It’s Only Hair, Right?

Summary: A Billy Hargrove imagine based on my experience of having Alopecia.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem! Reader (first person narrative)

A/N: I was having a bad day and this is something that just came out. I understand this may not be for everyone but I feel Alopecia (hair loss) is something that a lot of people have but never talk about, so I still wanted to post this even if no one reads it. If you do read it, please let me know what you think! P.S. there's a little gift from me to you at the end ;)

Warnings: Hair loss and the issues that come with it. There will be swearing, talk of negative self-image, brief non-graphic mention of needles (for the purpose of steroid injections which are given to try and stimulate hair regrowth), angst, fluff and Billy being very impulsive.

Disclaimer: I acknowledge that not everyone will experience or be affected by Alopecia in the same ways, so please note that this is purely based on my own experience of having it. Please do not steal or copy my work in part or in whole.

Word count: 2,137

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

“Stupid, fucking…” I grumbled frustratedly, around a mouthful of bobby pins, adjusting the small floral scarf I’d put in my hair to try and cover the back of my head.

I had been standing in front of the bathroom mirror for about fifteen minutes, attempting to put my hair up for work.

Billy came into the room, smiling that lopsided grin of his; swaggered up behind me and placed his hands on my hips. He dipped his head to kiss the side of my neck, blonde curls tickling my shoulder. He hummed against my skin as I continued jamming pins into my hair.

His eyes caught mine in the mirror, seemed to gauge my mood, then flicked up to the scarf in my hair.

“This is nice,” he said, tugging gently at the bow I’d tied clumsily at the front of the scarf.

“Don’t pull it, you’ll mess it up,” I snapped, jerking away from him. It came out a lot harsher than I’d meant it to.

He dropped his hand, frowning.

I sighed, placing the unused bobby pins down on the side of the sink, and turned to him.

“Sorry, I just can’t get it to sit right. It’s pissing me off,” I said, gesturing at the back of my head frustratedly.

He smirked at that.

“Never would have guessed,” he teased. His smile dropped again when he saw the obvious lack of amusement on my face.

I untied the scarf and started yanking it from my hair; grasping at the pins I had so carefully placed, removing them one by one. I scattered them carelessly onto the rim of the sink with the others. One slid into the basin, stopping at the edge of the plughole where it balanced precariously.

Billy’s hands came up to rest over mine, stilling them. He turned me to him.

“Hey,” he said. My eyes had fallen to the tiled floor, so he gently placed one hand under my chin, tilting my face until I was looking at him again. “You look beautiful.”

I considered his words for a moment.

“Well, I don’t feel it,” I said, pulling away from him.

Billy’s jaw tensed. He didn’t say anything.

“Don’t know why they insist on hair up anyway,” I grumbled, turning back to face the mirror again.

I turned my head to the side, taking in the state of my hair without the scarf covering it.

A large section behind my left ear was almost completely bald, save for a few strands here and there. My fingers poked at the skin, which felt smooth and waxy to the touch.

There was a large patch behind my right ear too, which extended round to the back of my head and one final area at the back, towards the middle, which was clearly visible with my hair up.

Unfortunately, with my work having a ‘hair up’ policy for female staff, it meant I couldn’t just hide it under the rest of my hair or throw on my favourite beanie hat, like I usually would when I wasn’t working.

It was getting harder and harder to disguise it, the more my hair fell out. The patches were gradually getting bigger and, according to my dermatologist, could get a whole lot worse before they started getting better.

I picked up the hand-held shaving mirror that was sat at the back of the sink and held it out behind me, angling it so that I could see the back of my head reflected in the larger mirror in front of me.

Billy leaned up against the wall, watching me with a crease in his brow. Chewed on the inside of his cheek as I inspected the patches of scalp.

“Any regrowth?” he eventually asked.

I sighed.

“No.” I tried not to sound too disappointed. It was probably too soon to tell anyway.

My last visit to the dermatologist had been a few days prior, for my final round of steroid injections. If it didn’t work this time, that was it; I’d just have to wait for the hair to grow back on it’s own, which could take anything up to two years. If it was even going to grow back at all, that is.

Billy had gone with me, of course. Had sat quietly in the corner, trying to maintain his supportive role as best he could, as he’d watched the discomfort on my face; powerless to help me. Had held me afterwards as I’d cried into the shoulder of his leather jacket.

My eyes were starting to sting now as I stared at the ugly patches of visible flesh.

I generally tried not to brood about it too often, but sometimes it was hard not to be outwardly fed up; especially after enduring the unpleasant ordeal that was having numerous injections straight to the scalp, only for them to not work.

Billy pushed away from the wall and stood behind me again. He prised the mirror from my hand.

“Come on, you better finish getting ready for work,” he said. He paused, then added, “Unless you wanna call in sick? We can order some takeout, watch a movie?”

The offer was tempting, but we really needed the money for rent; and although my pay was crap, the tips were definitely worth it.

“No, I should go,” I said regretfully. “Thanks though.” I glanced over my shoulder at him. Threw him a small smile, feeling bad for having been moody.

“I liked the scarf,” he said, gesturing to where I’d abandoned it. He smiled encouragingly, holding the mirror up at the back of my head. “I’ll hold this so you can see what you’re doing.”

It was easier to do this time, with Billy’s help. Only took me a couple more minutes to get the scarf positioned right and pinned in so that it was secure.

I smoothed my palm over the scarf, checking it one last time in the mirror. I turned to Billy, chewing my lip.

“What happens when it gets too bad to cover up?” I asked.

“I dunno, shave it off?” he answered, shrugging. He put his hands on my hips, pulled me in closer. Slid his hands into the back pockets of my work trousers. “You don’t need hair to be beautiful.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead then one to my lips; lingered there as he said, “Could shave the whole lot off and you’d still look smoking hot.”

I laughed, despite myself.

“Yeah, that’s easy for you to say,” I retorted. I took hold of one of his perfect curls, gently teasing it out straight between my fingers and let it go. Watched it bounce.

“I’m serious,” he said, leaning back to look at me from arms’ length, with a frown. “It’s only hair, right?” He slowly cracked a smile, trying to encourage me to join in. When I didn’t, he quirked an eyebrow at me, “Right?” he prompted again.

I let out an exasperated sigh, rolled my eyes, but indulged him by replying anyway.

“Right.”

That had inadvertently become our motto regarding my hair. When it had originally started falling out, people would say that to me all the time, ‘It's only hair.’ As if that would make me feel better.

It used to really annoy me, but then Billy had started saying it as a joke, and it had kind of stuck. He insisted that if he said it enough times, I actually might start to believe it. Unfortunately, that theory still had yet to be proved.

“Ok, I gotta go or I’m gonna be late,” I said. I wandered through to the bedroom, Billy following behind me, and gathered up my purse and keys. “Bye,” I said, then gave him a kiss on the lips.

He watched me thoughtfully as I left.

------

When I got home from work, Billy was nowhere to be seen. Granted, it was late, but he normally never went to bed until I’d come back from my shift.

“Babe?” The living room was empty, the TV murmuring away to itself. I wandered over to it, turning it off.

That’s when I heard a faint buzzing sound. Followed it through the flat until I was standing outside of the bathroom door. I pushed my ear to the wood.

“Billy?” I asked, knocking on the door.

The buzzing cut off abruptly, followed by a short silence and then what sounded like something being knocked over. I heard Billy curse sharply, under his breath.

“Babe? What are you doing in there?” I went to open the door.

“Er, hang on a sec,” he said, then hurriedly added, “don’t come in.” I could hear him scrabbling to pick up whatever he’d dropped.

The buzzing started up again. I figured he must be trimming his pubes. No big deal. I’d seen him do that before, a bunch of times, so I didn’t get what all the fuss was about.

I tried the handle. It wasn’t locked.

“Why can’t I-?”

I froze in the doorway, the words dying in my throat.

Billy was stood, shirtless, in front of the bathroom mirror; an electric razor in his hand.

“Y/N,” he said, exasperated, “I told you not to come in. I’m not done yet, it was meant to be a surprise.”

Well, it certainly was just that.

“Oh my God, Billy,” I breathed, walking into the room.

My eyes fell to the basin at his hips, full of familiar dark blonde curls, lying limply against the white porcelain.

The remaining hair on his head was shaved short, save for a small section at the back, near his neck, which he’d obviously missed and the left side of his head, which he was in the process of shaving before I interrupted him.

I looked him over. Somehow, he still managed to take my breath away, even with a poorly shaved head.

He put the razor down on the edge of the sink. Rubbed his hand over the stubble on his head, surveying his handy work in the mirror.

“What d’you think?” He flashed me that smile of his, in the reflection. Faltered slightly when he saw the way my eyes were welling up. “You hate it?” he asked, sounding unsure; disappointed, even. He turned to me.

“No, of course I don’t hate it,” I said, sniffling. Attempted a smile.

“Then what’s wrong?” he asked. He put his hands on my upper arms, stroking them soothingly.

“It’s just... I feel like this is because of what I said earlier…” I sighed, knowing full well that he’d taken what I said to heart and that’s not what I had intended.

“Well, yeah, it is,” he said, shrugging. He looked like he was going to say something else but I cut in.

“I just don’t want you to regret the decision.”

He laughed.

“Bit late for that now,” he said jokingly. But I didn’t find it funny.

“This is a huge deal, Billy,” I continued, as if I hadn’t heard him. “You love your hair.”

He barely seemed to think about his response.

“Yeah, but I love you more,” he said easily.

I didn’t know what to say. My eyes were welling up again.

“I figured that if you did decide to shave your head, it might be easier if I shaved mine too,” he explained, still gently rubbing my arms. “And besides, no one’s even gonna notice your hair now, with all this going on,” he said, gesturing to his lack of hair.

I sputtered a laugh. That was true, it was a state.

“God Billy, I wish you’d just waited until I got home to start this,” I laughed again, wiping at my face with the sleeve of my work shirt.

“At least it got you laughing,” he said with a smile.

“Yeah, and now I’ll laugh every time I see you,” I joked, picking up the razor. “Let me try and fix this.”

I started carefully shaving the hair at the back of his head then continued the section at the side which he hadn’t finished.

When I was done, I stared into the sink, filled with his beautiful hair.

Billy noticed and turned to me.

“Hey, it’s only hair, right?” he said, placing a kiss on the end of my nose.

I hummed a laugh. Thought about it for a moment.

“Right,” I replied.

As Billy started cleaning up the remains of his mullet, I took off my head scarf, pulling it free of the pins. I folded the fabric in my hands and looked up at myself in the mirror. Suddenly, what I saw didn’t seem so bad.

Billy was watching me from behind.

I smiled back at my gorgeous boyfriend, and for the first time ever, I really did feel like maybe it was only hair.

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

For those of you that made it this far, here’s some Billy with his head shaved ;)

My taglist is always open, please let me know if you would like to be added!

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a3hastakenovermylife · 4 years

Note

Hey there! Coming for the ask game for 2, 45 and 49 please💕 Hope you're doing well too love!

Oh, wow I really wasn’t expecting to get any asks!!!! Thank you so much!

2) Favorite Troupe

I love all of the troupes, I really do. However, I really am partial to Autumn Troupe. As much as I’d loved the upbeat nature of the story when it came to Summer and Spring Troupes, I am WEAK for people with complicated or dark past lives trying to turn over a new leaf. (and the idea that those dark pasts could come back to haunt them at any time and maybe pull the troupe into danger excites me)

Actually, I’m weak for Hurt/Comfort in general, and something about the whole way the portraits were set up and treated by the game left me with so much FUEL.

Like ok, TAICHI. I seriously love Taichi’s whole character arc, I also seriously love how protective Autumn troupe, and specifically Banri and Juza get towards him after they hear the whole story, ok. When Beni shows up at their closing night, and Taichi tries to stand up to him, and Juza and Banri chewing him out. That made me so happy, just SO happy.

I also love Juza, like the poor baby. He just wants some friends dammit. (I seriously love imagining what would happen if one of the punks who likes to target him took a cheap shot and went for Muku or Kumon instead. Can I see Juza in berserk protect mode please?). Also, he’s just such a sweet guy, I mean this figuratively AND literally. Give him all the pudding he wants, he deserves it.

Like the other troupes had one or two characters with traits like that, and I love them. It’s just that, as a whole, Autumn troupe really makes me happy

(like I was enamored with the idea that Citron was a runaway prince with spies after him for a while)

(Also does anyone else remember that scene that Misumi like got startled but the Director and pinned her in a hold for just a sec because I THINK ABOUT THAT A LOT)(wait a sec I remember reading that in game, I swear. But, I just reread the whole summer episode and I literally couldn’t find it? I’m afraid I might be going insane, now. )(Does anybody else remember this happening because now I’m really curious what chapter it was?)

(also my crazy imagination running away with the idea that Tenma’s dad literally punched him, though that was before I started reading the Rookie arc for Summer. I might still write something about them later...)

(Yeah, I really like Summer Troupe too if you can't tell...)

PLUS, their VOICES are so deep.

I love.

Every.

Single.

One.

Of their songs.

I could listen to Banri’s raspy friggin’ voice all day, and Juza’s deep voice harmonizes so well with Banri’s. I want to scream.

45) Did your favorite character/troupe change since you started the game?

Ah, well my favorite character and troupe pretty much changed as soon as I first meet a new character. At least with the first three troupes, I was always convinced that nothing could top how much I loved the previous troupe when I started a new chapter, but the game ALWAYS surprised me.

The only troupe that kinda disappointed me was Winter troupe, but that’s mostly because I’m not a huge fan of Tsumugi. Like I love him, I just feel that his character was not nearly as well developed as the other leads, in fact, I feel like Tasuku would have been a better fit for the lead of that troupe, he has a much more interesting character arc, especially when he has to confront the fact that he hurt Tsumugi and apologize to him.

I just always felt that if you took away his friendship with Tasuku, there wasn’t much to Tsumugi. His character is almost built around Takuku’s character arc and the rest of him just feels fake, I guess? Not that Tsumugi is faking it, just that the character traits they chose for him seeem like they have little to no motivation or reasoning behind them, so he doesn’t feel as real as the other leads. It would be fine if he were a side character, but not as the lead.

That’s why I’m a bit disappointed, like it would even be something if he showed more than token regret for leaving theatre for as long as he did, but he seems more upset about the fact that Tasuku is upset with him, than the fact that he quit doing what he loved for years. Like, it might be too similar to Sakyo’s arc in that respect, but I would have still been fine with it, especially because Tsumugi had his own reasons for leaving theatre, that are different enough from Sakyo's that I would have been satisfied.

Anyway, I’m getting way off topic.

My favorite character has waffled like crazy too, its just like the header of my blog says, I love them ALL. Its a bit overwhelming because I’ve never had this experience before, like I always latch on to a character or two and tolerate the rest for most fandoms I’m in.

Like, at first, I adored Tsuzuru, like he was so friggin’ relatable, and hardworking and earnest that I loved him, I also loved how he was the big brother character. Though, Itaru was a close second.

Then, it was Misumi. I got seriously obsessed with Misumi for a while, he was so adorable and honest, and oblivious sometimes that I also sorta related to him, plus his voice is so adorable. However, Tenma took over after I saw him get punched by his dad and he took over for that troupe from there. I didn’t really appreciate Kazunari until I came back and reread his parts in the story, I missed some of the nuance of his small arc in my first read through.

THEN, Autumn troupe destroyed me. DESTROYED ME, and I’m not even kidding. Like I literally hated Banri at first, though really, who among us didn’t at the start of all this. I mean he was such a little shit for like the first third of the Autumn Troupe’s arc. I was also on the fence at the beginning with Taichi, like I had like two SSR cards of him by this point so I knew who he was and he just seemed like an off-brand Kazunari to me, but that’s before I started reading so...

Anyway, but otherwise, right at the start of Autumn Troupe’s arc I had THREE FAVORITES just after auditions. I’d really been looking forward to Sakyo joining, because he was the first SSR that I’d gotten, and immediately I remembered him from episode one and I got excited.

Also, Omi just immediately appealed to me, the very second I first saw his dumb little confused face (you know the one), I was like ‘I love this man’ and that was the end of it. Plus, I was getting serious big bro energy from him. Juza also immediately appealed to me as well, he was just this intense guy but he was so earnest in the beginning that I really took a liking to him right off the bat. He just felt like a gentle giant, he looks scary but in the way he acted you could just tell that that wasn't really him.

49) Any favorite quotes/trivia?

(not sure how much of this applies as trivia, I think I’ll do my favorite quote post later tho, I just don't have time at this exact second)

I love Sakyo popping bubble wrap, just going to put that out there.

I love the idea that Itaru just uses Sakuya as his personal gatcha drawer, that's just so cute to me.

I love the idea that Tenma literally has no sense of direction.

I love the Mankai Mahjong Club, and literally everything it entails.

I love the Minagi family and I need more content with them, (thank you A3 anime).

BANRI AND TENMA GOING TO KAREOKE

(^^ I don't know why I love this but I do)

Muku and Sakyo reading Shoujou manga together. (It’s just too cute that Sakyo gave in after Muku started berating himself for even deciding to ask, I mean seriously it melts my heart every time I think about it.)

I think that's about it. Sorry this is so long, and my thoughts are definitely jumbled, because I should definitely be doing schoolwork right now...

BUT THANKS FOR THE ASK! I had a lot of fun answering these, and I definately went on a few tangents there, but I hope you enjoy it. If anybody have any follow up questions either that's cool too!

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softstraykidsimagines · 5 years

Text

Boyfriend!Hyunjin

A/N: SHE PROTECC

SHE ATTACC

BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY

SHE BACC

HI GUYS!!! I’m so happy to be posting again i cry :,) i hope you enjoy!!!! i;ll be updating as much as i can without rushing too much :D

MASTERLIST

Prepare your wigs peeps

This is gonna make me swerve

I mean

cmon it’s Hyunjin

Let’s do this!

Prince Hyunjin

Is actually smooth af with his crush

He'll complement you whenever he gets the chance

Or gives you food

Basically your knight in shining armor

Ye, that’s not what actually happens

He's smiling like an idiot and about collapse when he’s with you because HE'S FREAKING OUT OK

So freaking nervous his heartbeat is always up when he’s with you

You sometimes think he’s about to have a heart attack and you’re not stupid you know why lmao

Same for when he confesses

At first he’s pretty calm about it

Just casually asked if you wanted to see a movie with him some time

“Like... a-as more than friends?”

You'd kinda expected it so you weren't too shocked when he asked you

So you said yes

Duh

And he does a double take

"Wait.... Are you serious? You want to?"

"Well yeah?"

"WHAT WHY"

Was good with flirting but didn't actually think you'd go out with him smh

Now every minute he just contemplates the fact that he has you

And he still can't believe it

Like shit dude

He’s with the y/n

You never feel unloved when you're with him

He loves going for long walks, just to talk and relax

Why does it sound like he's a dog here lmao

Will always take as many pictures of you as his phone storage will allow, his camera roll is stuffed with pics of you

Will insist on going to the park for a picnic, he just loves you and the sunshine

He loves to quietly slide your hand into his

But he always ends up giggling because he’s so giddy about being with you

Has to take a moment to charge up his courage before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek

He then goes an unreal shade of scarlet as he covers his face, muttering that he ‘can’t believe that he actually did it’!

It takes him a while to finally gather up the courage to properly kiss you

Like.... a very long time

You were starting to get worried that he didn’t actually like you

Maybe he was just too nervous to tell you that it wasn’t working for him

buT NOPE

On one certain date, Hyunjin had prepared a cute little dinner on the practice room floor

He was so apologetic about the poor setting, but finally had stopped saying sorry when you’d told him for the 2376129th time that you were having fun

At some point, he just went uber silent, watching you not in a creepy way

You eventually noticed, and just stared back

“What?”

He didn’t say anything, but his eyes did widen a wee bit

“What are you lookin at, you’re sorta scaring m-”

He cut you off and just kissed you

BOI YOU WERE SO SHOCKED

Afterwards you both just stared at each other

And then Hyunjin goes all red

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to do that I’m sorry that was stupid you can slap me if you want!!!!”

“Bruh why would I want to slap you?!”

“You don’t hate me?”

facepalms for days

You meet the other boys only a few minutes later

Go figure

You’re talking casually, the embarrassment from the kiss wearing off

They all come stampeding into the practice room making an ungodly racket

And all go quiet when they realize what they’ve done

Changbin, bless him, tries to reduce the awful level of awkwardness: “*cough* uh hey, Hyunjin.... This must be y/n right?” He waves at you. “We’ve heard a lot about you, Hyunjin never stops talking about you”

He misses the death glare Hyunjin shoots him

Then Jisung

Freakin Jisung, man

Waltzes up: “Hyunjin’s cheeks are really pink”. He gives a cheeky smile. “You didn’t kiss did you?”

The room goes as quiet as a tomb

“OH SHIT YOU DIDN’T ACTUALLY KISS DID YOU????”

Of course Hyunjin completely loses his shit at the sight of you turning a deep red. “GODDAMMIT JISUNG STFU”

Ye your first meeting with SKZ wasn’t the best

But you all bonded rather quickly after

And Jisung buys you little snacks sometimes as an apology for your first awkward meeting

OH GOD THE BOYS ADORE YOU

If you’re ever sick, they always get snacks for Hyunjin to give you

And if you’re really under the weather, they’ll cover for Hyunjin so that he can stay with you and take care of you.

He wraps you in blankets

YOU ARE NOW A BURRITO

And tries to make soup for you

We know what cooking!Hyunjin leads to

You’re chilling on the couch and you suddenly hear a high-pitched scream

You’re up and sprinting to the kitchen at the speed of light still wrapped in a burrito

To find him fanning at a smoking pot

“WHAT THE FUCK HYUNJIN YOU JUST NEED TO HEAT IT UP HOW DID YOU START A MINI FIRE?”

You’re home doesn’t burn down thank goodness

And you end up heating some soup for yourself while Hyunjin watches

And it’s! hilarious! when he’s sick!

He becomes a little ten-year-old istg

But in a really cute way

He doesn’t ask for anything: food, to watch TV etc

Nah he just wants cuddles

The whole damn day

So while you’re struggling to keep a mask on and not getting sneezed on, this idiot is smiling like a puppy if puppies could smile, clinging onto you like a love-filled leach did that sound weird? i think that sounded really weird

i want this tattooed on my face thx

Now idk what this dude is afraid of

Something tells me one big fear would be to lose Stray Kids and the people he loves

And so I think he’d get kinda nervous when you both see less of each other and when he gets busier

You can’t talk as much because of his crazy schedule and with lack of sleep, he starts getting more irritated easier during the little intervals of time you get to see each other

At some point he might snap at you, maybe for no reason at all, and you’ll snap back indignantly

Yeah you love him but you’re not taking any attitude

If things get really bad, he just shakes his head, saying he needs some air

You’ll both give yourselves some space, but eventually Hyunjin becomes terrified that you’re too angry with him to talk again

So he goes to find you and talk

You both hug it out and decide to spent the rest of the day together for more quality time

And it’s totally worth Hyunjin getting an earful from Chan the next day

OK back to fluff quickly quickly

On the days Hyunjin goes somewhere, you sometimes join him in the car ride, tho you’re always super careful to never show your face when he gets out

Gotta stay hidden yknow?

You’ll both send cute little texts throughout the day and OOF just couple goals

You: hey check this out, this is me 2 u *sends heart meme*

Jiiniie<3: oh yeah? well this is me @ u! *sends heart meme with more hearts*

You: boi dont start smth u cant win!

And thus begins the heart meme wars

r they even called heart memes idk

i want this tattooed on my face pt2

We’ve already established that Hyunjin can’t cook for love or money

So if he even steps foot in the dorms’ kitchen

You bet that at least two other of his hyungs will follow for pure supervision

And he is not, under any circumstances, allowed to cook something by himself

And you’re grateful that your safety and world peace had been assured by this rule

Although, you’re allowed to cook together as long as you watch what he’s doing

If anything at all goes wrong, the blame is pinned on you

So it’s natural for you to treat these cooking projects as once-in-a-while occasions

Now when you ask about meeting his parents

Holy Hell

Stutters, clammy hands, flitting eyes, you name it

Hyunjin is so frickin nervous about you meeting his parents oof

You don’t understand why, like hey, how bad could it be right?

But pretty soon you get why Jinnie was nervous

His parents aren’t that trusting within the first hour of knowing you

You guess it might be because of poor past experiences?

Maybe Hyunjin had been judged or dated once too many times just for his looks?

The thought is enough to make you swear by all you know to always treat him like a treasure

You also make a mental note to ask him sometime

Eventually, his parents realize you have pure intentions and they become so much kinder and warmer

They let you know how welcome you are to visit whenever you want, they offer to send you off with some homemade cookies...

And Hyunjin gets so emotional at the beautiful site in front of him that he bursts into tears

Which causes you and his parents to tease and hug him

if you’re thick, let’s just be clear that im making a statement on how you should NOT judge Jinnie purely because he’s good looking, appreciate his talent!

Now, Hyunjin is kinda tall compared to the rest of SKZ hah im joking of course so it’s pure instinct to want to steal his shirts

Don’t lie, if you had the chance, you would take something i see right thru u

And at some point in your life, you stop realizing ‘hey, this isn’t my jumper!’ and just walk around in clothes that aren’t yours

And when this happens, three things follow:

You see a wild Hyunjin crashing through the apartment towards you, yelling happily that ‘that’s my favorite hoodie!!’ he tries to act like he’s angry and fails in 0.0000003 sec

He doesn’t slow down and freakin slams into you at full velocity, knocking you over or off anything you might be sitting on

He proceeds to tickle you mercilessly, until you either can’t breath and turn purple or until you commit an extreme act of violence in the name of self defense

Once this chaotic episode ends, most of the time with both of you are completely knackered and just lying on the floor

You both cool off by just cuddling and watching something on TV

Or reading something together!!!

I can totally see Hyunjin shoving one of his fav books in your face and insisting that you both take turns in reading aloud to each other

And you both react at the same time to shockers in the book, like you start crying together when a character dies who hasn’t had that traumatic experience or you both squeal with joy and hug each other tighter when something great happens

Did I just turn into a puddle of happy goo?

Yes I fuckin did.

I think Hyunjin wouldn’t take that long to tell you that he loves you

That doesn’t mean that he planned anything tho

HAH! Course he didn’t

Probs says it when he can barely think straight

Maybe you’re watching him dance late at night

You’d brought snacks to keep him going ‘cause he was working his ass off

And there you sit, marveling at his skill and fluidity while executing his choreo

You have a talent for hyping Hyunjin up while he dances, cheering when he leaps high into the air, gasping when he performs a complicated move, and aw-ing and his graceful poses ok im done now

When he finishes one of his more dramatic dances, you jump up with glee and tackle him in a hug despite him being sweaty, saying how proud you are

He hugs you back happily and says:

“I should be the proud one, having someone I love so much being so supportive of me”.

You both freeze, still hugging each other

And neither of you move or breathe for a moment

“What did you say?”

“UhhhHHHH NOTHING I SAID NOTHING”

“You said that you love me!”

“WAT NO I DIDN’T I-”

“HYUNJIN I LOVE YOU TOO!!!!”

“N- wait what?”

“I love you, dumbass” same tho

Oof that poor practice room has seen a lot of awkwardness

I’m cracking up just by thinking of how hopeless Hyunjin could become when SKZ are away

“Hey do you guys have a signal and/or data? I wanna Skype y/n and show them the beautiful view”.

*all of SKZ facepalms*

Always taking pictures to show you

In the evenings, you get a frickin cascade of notifications of both photos and messages from the poor boy telling you he misses you like crazy

When Skyping, he asks to see Khami, who you have the pleasure of caring for during his absence

You do question (mentally and then verbally) whether he calls to talk to you or his dog

He never answers the question heh

There’s lowkey a competition between you and Khami for Hyunjin’s affection

When the boys make their flight home, Hyunjin keeps you informed about everything that’s happening

I mean everything:

Jiiniie<3: we’re @ the airport :D -6h ago

Jiiniie<3: waiting to board! -5h ago

Jiiniie<3: they’re getting ready to go, i can’t wait to see you!! xxx -5h ago

Jiiniie<3: will text you when we arrive, love! -5h ago

Jiiniie<3: JUST LANDED! CANT WAIT TO HUG U -31mins ago

Jiiniie<3: about to get our luggage! -Just now

You get the point -_-

When you finally see each other, he runs at top speed to pick you up and spins you around

frickin goals man i feel so sad writing this :,)

He goes public in probably the most aesthetic way that’s physically possible

He posts a bunch of gorgeous photos-

Courtesy of Jisung

-of your silhouettes in front of sunsets

-Pics he took of you laughing during a cafe trip

-Bomb-ass selcas where you’re both lookin hella fine

Just

UGGHHH

SO! AESTHETIC!!!

Naturally, the internet freaks the fuck out

Both of you are kinda nervous about the explosive reaction

There are salty bitches who are telling you to piss off because they jelly

But the huge majority of Stay are crying with happiness and wishing you both well

this better happen in the future im watching all of u

And soon Hyunjin is talking about you on vLives, proud af because y/n freakin rules!

OhmyGod I love Hyunjin

Damn my heart be like < HYUNJIN 3 phew

#hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin imagines #stay don't stray #stray kids #stray kids hyunjin #scenario #kpop scenarios #kpop scenario #hyunjin scenario #imagine #imagines #kpop imagines #boyfriend #kpop au

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