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neowinestainedress · 9 months

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SECRET — lee jeno

𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄: secret

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lee jeno x fem!reader

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: smut, fluff (at the end), established relationship, kink discovery, relationship development

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: jeno has a secret he can’t tell anybody, not even you.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: sub!jeno, dom!reader (it’s their first time reversing roles so they’re both exploring how it feels like), implied masturb*tion, n!pple play, kinda hand-free org*sm/coming untouched, an*l fingering, riding, overstimulation, praise kink, minor degradation, size kink (but reversed??? reader is not bigger than jeno but somehow jeno feels small and likes to feel like that), ch*king, names used for jeno (baby boy, good boy, pup/puppy, pretty boy), names used for reader (ma’am, miss, mommy), big d!ck jeno, there’s nothing wrong with being a sub but jeno has issues because he has to always be strong so it doesn’t feel right for him, count the times I say ‘please’ in this (not my fault jeno is the bestest boy ever), aftercare (and kink discussion)

𝐖𝐂: 10.202k

𝐀/𝐍: a gift for my love @yellowgirllsblog, I converted her to subjenoism so I’m on a mission to let more of you see the light of the day and appreciate sub!jeno more. ps: you will never catch me call twitter ‘x.’ enjoy and if you do, please reblog and leave feedback! love u!

Jeno has a secret.

Once you’ll find out what it is, it won’t seem a big deal, but to him, it is.

It’s so big, so stressful, and so shameful, he can’t even talk to you — his sweet, loving girlfriend — about it.

It’s stupid, really. Deep down Jeno is well aware of how dumb it all sounds, but every time he faces it, it looks like a big mountain he can’t climb — and that will probably crumble on top of him, smashing him on the ground.

Stupid or not, big or small, it haunts him every day. Yes, every day. At first, Jeno thought it was just a temporary thing, something that piqued at his curiosity for fun, but soon enough, he fell down the rabbit hole. Looking back at it now, he probably was buried deep in the rabbit hole since forever but he —and the perception others had of him— did a good job at polishing the place real nice and don’t make him realize where he was.

Jeno accepted he is far gone a while ago, but he still can’t wrap his head around it. How is that possible? How could he, out of all the people, like something like this, be like this.

And that’s why he keeps it to himself, praying that if he doesn’t act on it, if he pushes it out of his mind, it will just leave. He’s strong, and fit, and he pounds into you every night, giving it to you like you want it. He can’t be anything else other than this, nothing but a confident, strong man that can’t be vulnerable.

But it turns out that pushing it out of his mind is not as easy as it seems. Jeno might be weaker than he realizes when he keeps going back at it, sipping on it at small doses, almost as if whatever he is holding in it’s a drug he doesn’t want to get addicted to — not knowing he already is. But for now — and forever, he thinks — this is just a fantasy, he can’t get addicted to something that is not real, to a version of him, no matter how authentic it feels, that can’t come out. But he slips further every day, hiding in your shared bedroom with his laptop or phone when you’re at work and he can have a bit of time to himself, when he stares at the box with your toys and lets time pass by because he doesn’t dare to do the next step, and lastly when he fucks his fist with your used panties and calls your name… or well, how he wishes he could call you.

And then clarity hits him again, making him groan as he rushes to the bathroom on wobbly legs, throwing your stained panties inside and starting the washing machine while he questions himself; why? He feels pathetic; masturbating over you as if he needs to fantasize about you, as if he doesn’t have you every night, and every day, and yet, it’s still not enough, it’s not how he wants you. But he feels guilty, he feels like he won’t be enough if he confessed to you, if he let you know his secret. And most of all, he’s terrified he’ll lose you. This version of him is not the one you picked, is not the one you love. And he’d damn himself forever if he lost you for something so silly.

So, he sighs, takes a deep breath, and then exhales deeply, rubbing his teary eyes before pushing his tired body up from the wall to walk back to your bedroom and fix himself.

Jeno has a secret, and he will take it to his grave.

Your boyfriend has been acting strange for a while now. At first, you figured he was stressed because of work, but now, you don’t think that’s the only reason.

Your brain goes crazy, imagining the worst-case scenario, the top one: he wants to break up with you. So, you start acting strange, too. Panicking, over-analyzing everything, and mostly, bracing yourself for the worst. Every time he starts talking to you with a serious tone, you fear that those words will come out of his lips, especially when before starting the conversation he stares at you for minutes and thinks so loudly you can almost hear his thoughts.

But the worst never comes, this goes on for weeks, and even if your boyfriend does act strange, nothing of his weirdness leads to a breakup, literally nothing can make it plausible, and even your brain gives up keeping you up at night with the fear of you losing him.

Jeno has never been so touchy. His hands are always on your body, any excuse is valid to let his fingers wander on your skin; if he needs to help you pick up something, if he needs to reach for the remote, if he has to leave for work, anything as long as he gets to feel your warm body.

And that doesn’t shock you much, Jeno has always made it clear how much he finds you attractive and how obsessed and in love he is with you and your body, but well, not like this. His fingers seem almost fearful, and so are his lips when he kisses you, and even something about his eyes doesn’t seem quite right. And then there are those unsaid words that you can see pending from his lips, and yet, they never come out. Every phrase Jeno starts is followed by a stutter and a quick shake of the head, other times his cheeks turn bright red as he zones out and you have to shake him out of whatever he is thinking, and then he goes back to act though and shrug it all off as if nothing happened.

You don’t get it, and every time you try to ask if something’s wrong, he acts surprised and tells you everything’s alright. You don’t buy it, but you feel that if something’s annoying him, he will come talk to you when he’s ready, so you leave him alone.

Jeno has a secret, and you have to find out in a way you don’t like.

You don’t like to roam around and stick your nose in things that aren’t yours, honestly, you hate doing so because you would hate if somebody did that with your things.

But you’re bored, laying on your bed, waiting for Jeno to come out of the shower, and your phone is somewhere in the living room, and you’re bored.

Picking up his phone to play some games is not an invasion of privacy, it’s the only thing you do with his phone, and Jeno is fine with it — he even lets you download those ugly, ads-filled, games that pop up in ads of other annoying games, he doesn’t get them, he hates the graphic of most of them, and he doesn’t understand how you can survive so many ads, but it’s fine, anything that makes you happy because you saved the King from drowning, cleaned a hotel room or built a pretty land.

You would’ve minded your business if it wasn’t for one of those stupid games and ads, causing the app to crash and make you huff.

You’re pissed as you click the left bottom on the bottom of his screen to see all the apps and go back to your game, hoping it won’t die again, you’re so caught up that you almost miss the other window of Twitter and some other apps he used before.

But well, what you see is too shocking to make you go back to the business of your hotel.

You freeze, and a lump forms in your throat as you blink speechless with your mouth wide open. You feel the world could collapse under your feet but then you shake your head.

Dumb asshole, it’s fine. He might be bisexual, he’s not using you as a beard, right?

But you still stare at the video in shock, the only focus is on the naked man with a choker, moaning while the vibrator edges him, and the playful touches on his nipples make his hips rut.

And when Jeno comes out of the shower you’re still dumbfounded. Your eyes look up, and his smile drops as soon as he sees your face, it looks as if you saw a ghost, and he fears something has happened to you, but he barely manages to let out ‘are you ok?’ before you stop him.

“Are you gay?” You ask, nothing of the more rational questions you came up with before passing your lips.

He giggles nervously, eyes skimming you. “What?

You feel a lump in your throat and then reply. “What is this?” you lift the phone, video playing on mute, you can’t bear to hear the moans again. “Why are you watching porn and why are you watching porn focused on men? If you want to try something out you can tell me, but please, tell me I’m not your bearding girlfriend and this wasn’t all a lie.”

“A lie?” Jeno screams, feeling his heart pump hard in his chest. “It’s not and I’m not gay, I might be bi, but I never wanted to question much about it but... Wait, would it make you love me less?”

“No, God, no, but I don’t understand this,” you squeak, voice breaking a bit for the confusion you feel and also because his face dropped even more.

“It’s nothing,” Jeno says, abruptly taking the phone from your hand and closing the tab. His hands are shaking, he can’t believe he’s so fucking stupid, how could he not think about it? He always makes sure to close everything so that you can’t find out.

“Nothing?” You ask, eyes wide and a bit of sarcasm in your tone. “Why are you watching that kind of video...”

“I — I... It’s just something dumb the boys sent me,” he justifies, scratching his neck, but his eyes are everywhere except on yours.

You would believe him if only he wasn’t so evasive with his answers and body language, he’s a nerve wreck, he has to be hiding something. “Is it? Why would they do it?”

“I don’t know, you know they’re dumb,” he says and then pauses, biting his lips nervously before he gathers the courage to speak. “Did you watch it?”

You furrow, mumbling for a few seconds before replying as if it was obvious. “Yes.”

“All?”

“Yes, it’s not that long,” you reply without getting where he wants to go with these questions.

Jeno nods and bites his lips, strategically avoiding your gaze.

“Jeno...” You call and he hesitantly raises his face. “Are you sure you’re not lying to me? If you like men and only them it’s fine, I would be heartbroken, but I want you to be happy, and I —”

“Stop it! It’s not that,” he snaps, face burning red when your eyes meet and you’re looking at him with curiosity. He feels doomed, you don’t even get it so how can you be into it?

“Oh.” You gasp. “Oh.” It clicks. Your mind replays the video, catching the details you missed, and you get it. He wants those things to be done to him. He doesn’t want a man; he wants you to do that to him.

Jeno stills, fearing the worst from you. “I’m not into it, that video just came up and I was curious,” he tries to save himself but it’s too late.

“No,” you stop him, “you are into it. Don’t lie to me,” your tone drops a bit, and you study his reaction, he trembles, and his face reddens even more. You’ve never seen him so embarrassed and vulnerable in all those years you’ve dated. Jeno, Lee Jeno, blushing bright red and stammering on his words right in front of your eyes. You’re dreaming, that must be it, maybe you have a fantasy you’re not aware of yet and this is your brain poking the thought into you.

But you shake your head, rub your eyes, and he’s still there.

“Jeno?” You call his name again when he gives you his back, quickly trying to find his clothes and make this less embarrassing, considering the only thing covering him is the white towel he put on before. “Look at me,” your voice comes out stern when he doesn’t listen to you and with a big step forward you have him trapped against the wall. Your fingers reach his chin, lifting his face resolutely.

But Jeno still doesn’t reply; you see his Adam’s apple move in his neck and you feel his breath get discontinued, but nothing comes from his mouth.

You have two choices; play the game he wants you to play or have a serious conversation about this. You’d rather go for the last one, you’re not so sure you’d be a master at doing what he wants you to do, but it seems like there’s no room for a decent talk right now.

You cup his chin, squeezing it enough that his lips pout, something he always does to you. His eyes widen, and his hand immediately wraps around your wrist, yet he doesn’t try to push you away.

“Tell me, Nono,” you coo, voice low and teasing, “do you want to be teased like that?”

He shakes his head, quick movements causing some still damp strands of hair to fall on his eyes, “No, no, I don’t.”

You scoff, shaking your head before leaning closer. “Why are you lying to me?”

He mumbles, struggling to talk for the embarrassment and the hold you have on his face. “I’m not,” he cries out.

“Oh, really?” You ask, letting his face go, making him lose his balance now that he can’t hold onto you. “Then you have nothing to hide, right?” He nods, biting his thumb and looking at you like a dog with his tail between his legs. “So, I guess you won’t mind if I took your phone right now, right?”

His eyes widen and his thumb falls from his lips. “Bu-but wh-why?”

You burst out laughing, holding your stomach in an exaggerated mocking move. “Bu-but wh-why?” you taunt him, imitating his high-pitched trembling voice. “Phone, now.”

Jeno’s not sure how to feel. This is what he wanted, right? And you don’t seem… mad. So why does he feel so embarrassed as he grabs the phone and hands it to you?

You smile and then open Twitter. You notice he has two accounts and when you scroll through the likes, the retweets, and more, you’re speechless. Well, now that you have him in front of you, so pliant, shaking, and red in the face, it’s not surprising anymore, but the Jeno you’re used to is not like this.

Men tied up and edged until they whimper and beg to come, rough face sitting, pegging videos, and captions about ‘good boys’ being used as sex toys by their ‘dominant mommy’, are all you see. You sigh and throw the phone on the bed carelessly.

“I’m sorry,” Jeno cries out, falling on his knees right in front of you. “I didn’t mean to disappoint you. I don’t need that, I swear I don’t, I can still be your usual boyfriend, I’ll fuck you so good, I promise I —”

You shut him up with a kiss, it’s rough and quick, enough to leave him surprised and, momentary, speechless. “Will you stop mumbling no-sense?”

“But I —”

“No, shh,” you say, thumb on his lips to keep him quiet. “Did I say anything? Did I look disappointed?” You ask, tilting your head to the side and he shakes his head. Honestly, he has no idea, he was too worried panicking to actually pay attention to your reaction. “Did I ask you to apologize? Do I look disgusted to you?”

“N-no,” he mumbles, but his eyes are still leaking tears.

“No, exactly,” you reassure. Your hand moves to the back of his neck, wrapping around the long hair at the nape before tugging and yanking his head back. “Now can we be serious and face this or do you want to keep crying at my feet?”

That shouldn’t make his dick twitch in the — now incredibly tight —towel but it does, still, he hopes you didn’t catch it, and nods swiftly.

“Good,” you smile slyly. You saw it, but that’s something you’re going to deal with later. “Stop lying and be honest with me. Do you want me to do this to you?” Your other hand moves down on his neck, creeping on his toned chest until it reaches his hard nipples, and when you brush one, he whimpers. Jeno tries to hide it, closing his eyes and pressing his lips together, but his body is reacting on its own, and it has never been more of an open book.

You never paid his body much attention, always letting him do anything to you, so this is… new, and interesting.

Your fingers play with the other one, rubbing against the sensitive tip and watching him struggle to keep it all in. “Sensitive much, aren’t you?”

He nods quickly, head falling down but you tug it back again, making him groan lowly.

“Head up,” you order, leaning down to come face to face, breath fanning against his, “and answer me. Do you like it when I play with your nipples?”

“Yeah — yeah, I like it,” he breathes out, leaning in to kiss your lips but you pull away.

“Ah, ah,” you click your tongue, shaking your head, “not yet, baby boy. You’ve been naughty, keeping important things from me. So now you’re going to earn it, alright?”

Jeno nods faster than he would want to, hips shaking on his heels in excitement like a dog wagging his tail.

You think it’s cute, he’s cute. And you still don’t quite know how to do this, how to be on the other side, but something inside of you makes you feel confident enough to think it’s worth giving a try. You like to be on the receiving end, so you have to give him what you usually like to receive. Also, you’ve encountered femdom content before, even liked it, never explored it much, but this might be fun.

“Words.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You raise a brow at the title, but you like the way it rolls from his lips, and it makes your body react, pussy clenching around nothing and stomach twisting in anticipation.

“Good boy,” you reward him. You love being called a good girl, so you think he’s going to like that too, and he does. His smile grows bigger, cheeks tinting red again, and most importantly, his dick reacts, twitching against the towel.

You think it’s time to set it free, so your hand grabs the hem and pulls the white clothes off him. Jeno whimpers, hands quickly going to cover his hard, throbbing dick — well, trying to, it’s too big to hide anything.

You laugh at his lame attempt, slapping his hands away. “Getting shy now? I’ve seen it and felt it countless times, don’t you agree? Or, I don’t know, have you forgotten? Maybe your brain stops working when you’re… like this,” you finish with a teasing look from his head to his bent knees, rubbing against the hard floor and becoming red.

Jeno shivers, shaking his head, but for some reason, he feels even more embarrassed. He’s not used to being in this position, and all the times he imagined to be here, he didn’t think you would be like this. You’re not much shorter than him, but you are, and now you’re towering over him, your gaze is piercing through his soul, and your voice is sultry like it has never been. He wanted this so badly but even if he fantasized for months, now, he doubts he can take you.

You sigh, rolling your head. “How many times do I have to say it? Words.”

Jeno frowns momentarily, he knows you’re having a ball because usually, he wants you to talk back to him even if he’s fucking the fourth orgasm out of you. But his ‘anger’ doesn’t last. He nods, and then apologizes. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, ma’am. You can see it.”

“Of course, I can,” you say, kneeling to his eye level, “it’s mine.” Two of your fingers brush on his hard cock, tracing the thick vein that run on the side, the one that rub your sensitive walls so good when he’s pounding into you.

He nods quickly, swallowing hard to don’t moan shamelessly, and then stutters on his words. “You-yours. You can do — do whatever you want.”

You smile widely and tilt your head because it’s not a dominant smile. You might like this a lot. You might like this more than you anticipated. There’s something thrilling about having him like this, in your hands, to play with, to tease, to edge, to push to the limit. He’s yours, like always, and yet, in a way he has never been.

“Tell me what you want me to do?” You order, those videos are not enough to give you the green light. You need to hear it from him, a bit because you’re lost on your path, but also because you need to hear him describe those things out loud and beg you to do that to him.

Jeno thinks his face might burn up in a second. Sure, if he ever dared to bring this up to you in a conversation, he would’ve had to explain it to you, but he would’ve been dressed, not hard, and his brain would’ve been functioning. Now he’s none of these things. Yet, he tries.

“I — I want you,” he starts, wetting his lips. but he fails to find the words. You want explicit things, he knows it, he can see it in your eyes burning up with desire, but he wants to be honest first, at least now that he has a bit of rationality left. “I want to be your good boy. I want to — to just give up control for once and let you do everything. I want you to control me, to move me around, to make me feel light, to make me feel like I’m… nothing but not really nothing, I want to…” he gulps, forcing himself to keep eye contact because he wants to be good, but it’s not easy. Nothing happened yet, and he’s already a victim of the electricity that’s running in the air. “I want to don’t think. I want you to fuck my brain out until I forget who I am, I want you to tell me what to do, to order it to me. But I also want to feel safe… taken care of.”

It takes you a while to metabolize everything he told you, especially the last part, and you put a reminder in your brain to discuss that later. But now you kiss him, finally giving him what he craves. You wanted to make him wait a bit longer, but you feel like he needs it. It seems that all of this has been bothering him more than you think, and he needs comfort.

“And I’m going to give it to you, if you trust me,” you say when you pull away, softly caressing his cheek with your other hand.

“I do, I trust you,” he replies, hips rubbing against your hand. You give him a quick, stern look and he stops, smile dropping.

“Get on the bed and you won’t have to hump my hand like a puppy in heat,” you order and he’s quickly — stumbling and almost falling — on his feet, walking to the bed.

Once he’s laying on the bed, you follow him, crawling on top of him, your legs trapping him down. You leave kisses on his neck, and as a response his head rolls back, leaving you more room to paint his skin with bites and kisses. And while he’s distracted with that, your hands reach his nipples. His hips buck up and he whimpers.

He’s so sensitive, you can’t believe you didn’t discover this before.

Your fingers play with his sensitive buds, at first, you just rub your fingers on them, but then you get more adventurous studying his reaction. Jeno likes it when you pinch them between two fingers, it makes him hiss and moan, while his hips grind against you. He also likes it when you roll them, low curses escaping his tortured pink lips.

After a while, you decide to pay attention to his whole chest. You won’t lie, you always loved his tits, but you appreciated them from afar, when they were wrapped under the skintight white shirt he loves to wear, or when they played hide and seek under his loose tank tops. When he fucks you, your hands always wander somewhere else, busy trying to hold onto his arms and back for dear life. But now, your hands caress his skin, cupping them as you try to hide a giggle and stay in your role — you definitely need to work on your dominance — and tease his nipples every now and then.

“Fuck,” Jeno bites his tongue, dick rutting against your body, droplets of white shamelessly dripping from his head, staining his length and abs.

“You’re so sensitive it’s almost pathetic,” you try out, testing the waters. You fear you might trigger him, but instead, he moans louder at your words, throwing his head back more, and his dick throbs. “I’m barely touching you and you’re already a mess. You dreamed this so long, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he whimpers, his hips still grinding against you, desperately chasing for release, but you pull away. “No, please,” his voice breaks and tears swell at the corner of his eyes. Jeno is so fucking pretty like this, you have to fight back the urge to reach for the phone and snap a picture.

“Just relax, and focus on the parts I’m touching,” you say, kissing him to shut his whines down. “Let me take care of you.”

And he would, he does, he wants you to take care of him. If only this wasn’t so embarrassing, whimpering and squirming just from having his nipples played with. He wants to hold it in, he can push back an orgasm, but all his good intentions fly out of the window when your mouth wraps around the left sensitive one and your fingers pinch and twist the other one.

It’s not his fault he’s so sensitive.

“Oh God,” he cries out through gritted teeth, knuckles going white for how hard his hands are clenching around the sheets. Jeno feels dizzy, your mouth sucks harshly on his sensitive spot, quickly moving from one side to the other, never leaving him with no stimulation, your fingers are just as swift at taking the place your lips left. “Please, please, fuck,” he begs, hips stuttering messily, and legs parting as his body jerks with pleasure.

“Be a good boy and come for me,” you mumble against his skin, eyes looking up at his. And that’s the last drop for him; the realization that you saw him — and made him — this weak, even the slight humiliation he feels with it.

Jeno comes undone. Long, whiny moans and whimpers slurring out of his plump lips as his body stills before breaking into violent trembles, it’s powerful and overwhelming, and it makes him cry. Mumbles of your name follow when you don’t stop, fingers and tongue moving quickly on his nipples.

“Please, please, stop,” he cries, trying to push you away, “can’t take it anymore.”

You pull away, snickering as you watch the cum drip down his body. His chest is heaving, and his body is slumped against the headboard.

“Was it good?”

Jeno nods, his movements are slow, and his eyelids are almost close, but he still makes out your face, and smiles shyly. “More,” he begs and then adds, “please. If you want to.”

You smile, he’s so polite. “Are you sure you can take more?”

“Yes, yes, I just — I needed to calm down,” he explains, running a hand through his hair that covered his eyes messily.

“Lay on the bed,” you order before standing up.

He follows your order, feeling his body ache as he gets in position, but it all fades in the background when his gaze falls on your body, watching you move to throw your clothes on the floor.

“So,” you’re on top of him, you got rid of your skirt and top, the only clothes on your body are your — drenched — panties and the bra, “what do you want me to do with you?”

Jeno thought the embarrassing part had passed, but, lord, if he was wrong. Because he’s not prepared in the slightest to ask you what he’s about to ask. You will break up with him, this will be the last straw.

“Pup?” Your voice brings him out of his delirium, and he coughs. “You with me?”

He nods, struggling to find the words. “Please,” he whines, “don’t — don’t leave me.”

“Leave you?” You ask, a small frown forms on your forehead while your head lightly bends to the side to look at him. You almost look so innocent and harmless like this, but you’re not. You have all the power and control, and Jeno loves this and hates this at the same time. Maybe all of this is more mental than what he thought in the first place, or maybe he needs to relax, stop worrying so much, and just beg you. Beg you to fuck him, beg you to turn him into a brainless mess in the same way he had done in these past few months: pleading with his face smashed against a pillow to muffle his pathetic moans and his fist wrapped around his cock or his fingers inside of him, fooling himself that was you doing that to him.

“Please, fuck me,” he breaks, eyes panicking and looking around the room before you grab his face with a strong old on his chin.

“Say it again,” you order. Your face is relaxed now and the pout on your lips is rapidly swiped away by a sly smirk.

“Please, please, fuck me, ma’am?” He asks, eyes softening as he looks into yours. He’s such a good boy, so obedient, so, so good. So, you’re about to give him what he wants, and what you want, grabbing the base of his hardening dick and teasing it against your pussy, moving the crotch of the panties to the side, but he surprises you.

“No,” Jeno cries, voice breaking again, “not like this. Not now.”

You stop, stilling and looking at him, eyes blinking as you try to understand what he means. “Not like this? And how do you want me to fuck you?”

“I — I,” he stutters, flashes of warmth heating his body up again, not that it ever really stopped, to be honest, it just keeps getting worse.

“You — you?” You urge, mocking him, mimicking his voice with a condescending tone.

He frowns offended — and his dick throbs, but he won’t pay attention to that — but then goes on. “I want your — your fingers.”

“Oh,” you say, a smug grin on your face. “A handjob?” You know what he wants, you know where he wants it, but what you want, is to mess up with him.

“No, no,” he whines, shaking his head, reaching for your hand with his before you slap it away, making him groan in annoyance. “Please.”

“Please and no, are those the words that a good pup says?”

“No, miss, I’m sorry.”

“Good, then use your big boy words and tell me what you want. Details, or I won’t give it to you.”

Jeno swallows, inhaling deeply before confessing. “I want your fingers in my ass, please. I want you to fuck me with your fingers, miss.”

“Oh, now that’s clear,” you say, smiling tenderly and patting his head. He melts under your touch, and you keep a reminder to yourself to head pat him more often. “Good boy, telling me exactly what he needs.”

You get up to grab the lube from the drawer but when you open it, it’s not there. You scowl, scratching your head as you try to remember if you finished it and didn’t buy it again, but you don’t use it that often, so it can’t be.

“Where the hell —” you stop when, turning around, you see the blue bottle peeking from under the bed, you kneel to grab it and see that it’s badly closed. “You fucked yourself before?” You enquire, tilting your head, watching his face flush bright red even more, he tries to avoid your gaze, but you trot to him and force his face on you. “You were so desperate you couldn’t help but fuck yourself with your fingers?”

“I’m — I’m sorry, miss, I didn’t mean to,” he justifies, throat dry and heart beating fast. He doesn’t want to disappoint you, he would’ve waited, he wouldn’t have done that, but he needed that, he was terrible at putting this fantasy behind and he needed a release. But he’s still you’re good boy, right? You’re not mad at him for this?

You scoff, clicking your tongue, crawling on the bed. “You didn’t mean to, sure… fucking yourself behind my back, pff,” you scoff. “Tell me, were you thinking of me? My fingers deep inside of you? My hand wrapped around the base of your cock?” Jeno nods eagerly as you pour lube on your fingertips. “Were you calling my name? Whimpering like the desperate puppy that you are? Calling me ma’am and miss, maybe even mommy when you fuck yourself good enough,” all throughout the talk your fingers slip deep inside of him, making him gasp and hold onto the sheets under him.

“Fuck,” he curses, not expecting you to push two fingers inside with no warning. But the surprise turns into bliss in the beat of an eye. Your fingers are slender, and yes, they’re not as long and thick as his are, but they are yours. And you’re so good at moving them inside of him, curling them up, moving them with a firm rhythm, reaching the bottom, and then pulling out, that he has nothing to complain about. “Feels so good,” he somehow manages to let you know. You think it’s cute, his voice doesn’t sound like the usual, it’s whiny, trembling, and full of desperation. His eyes are watery, and you think the red on his cheeks won’t disappear soon.

Jeno is lost in the pleasure, thinking he has never felt better, he’s almost relaxed, lulling in the sensation that sends sparks down his spine. But you want to give him more and your other hand folds his balls, making him hiss and shaking him out of that haze.

“It’s alright, baby boy,” you reassure him, but he’s not sure. Especially when you spit on his dick, adding to the mess of his cum, and run your hand on his length. He wishes you would keep doing this, but instead, you torture him; while your fingers work him open, your hand focuses on his frenulum, massaging his most sensitive spot until he’s a crying and trembling mess again.

“No, no,” he whines when your lips start kissing his leaking tip. “Sensitive — I’m…” his voice breaks and dies in his throat when your lips wrap around it. He has you everywhere and he’s not used to this. He’s not used to feeling so much and giving so little — in his mind, to give you nothing, but to you, he’s giving you a lot. This vulnerable side of him is much more than anything else. “I — I can touch you, I can —”

You shut him up with a slap on his thigh. “You can lay there and take it,” you say firmly but without stopping your movements.

He nods quickly, lips pressed in a thin line, but the pleasure is so big that his moans and whimpers just rumble in his chest.

“Moan, Jeno,” you call him out. “I want to hear you moan for me.”

“But —”

“But?” You scold, glaring at him and stilling your fingers inside him. “Are you going to talk back to me and tell me what to do?” He shakes his head quickly, mumbling apologizes. “I think so, do you want to be my good boy?”

“Yes, yes, please,” he cries, hips bucking up, at first you think he’s doing that to feel your fingers but he’s just that desperate. He truly acts like a puppy too excited to be your good boy to even think straight, his body moving on its own. If he had a tail, he would wiggle it like crazy.

“You want to be my good pup?” You ask again, your fingers pull out and then push in, dragging a low gasp from his lips.

“Yes, I want to. Want to be your good puppy, please.”

“Then do what I tell you to do,” you remind him, your hands go back to his cock, throbbing on his abs and leaking pre-cum. It’s almost… funny how big he is —body and dick— and how helpless and powerless he looks, begging for attention as if he couldn’t just take it from you, ordering you, fucking you. But he lays there, pathetically drooling on the pillow, while his dick drips on his stomach and his ass clenches around your two fingers.

His sounds are like music to your ears, and the vision in front of your eyes makes your pussy drool more, you can’t believe you’re so turned on when fifteen minutes ago you were almost throwing a tantrum for this. But Jeno looks like the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you wonder if he feels this way when it’s the other way around. All you know is that you’re mesmerized, eyes stuck where your bodies connect, his hole fluttering around you, the lube squelching in and out, and his toned, strong legs spread open just for you. Then they move up, the way his dick is throbbing in your hand and spills pre-cum, his chest rising fast, his hands clenched around the sheets. And his face, his eyes are closed but you know they’re rolled back behind his eyelids, his lips are swollen and dark pink, parted open to fill the room with the most desperate whines, his hair is a mess again, scattered around the pillow and his forehead.

“Fuck, fuck,” he whines, lifting his hips from the mattress when you hit him deeper and your hand starts moving faster on him. “Feels good, feels so good, you’re so good, you’re — you’re perfect, I love you, I love you,” he cries out, head rolled back as he lets the pleasure rush through his body.

You smirk at his words, the desperation and devotion behind his voice making shivers run down your spine. “Are you going to come?” You ask, already knowing the answer, watching him nod quickly. “Yeah? Will you be a good boy and come from my fingers only?” Your hand leaves his dick, eliciting a disappointed noise from him, but his breath gets cut off when you add another finger inside of him.

“Please,” he cries, the stretch of the three fingers making his hips move even more from the mattress, only to stop when your hand, flat on his stomach, keeps him pinned down.

“Stop squirming, or I won’t make you come and keep edging you until you pass out.”

It should be a threat, but it doesn’t even sound so bad to him, but not now, maybe one day, now he wants you, and wants to come as soon as possible. So, his hips still, the nervous twitching passing down to his leg but it’s fine, it doesn’t get in the way.

“Good boy,” you praise, patting his head, and making him smile. “Be even a better boy and come for me.”

You don’t have to tell him twice before his orgasm erupts, his body shakes before stilling completely, spurts of white spilling on his stomach, even reaching the sheets as his cock throbs in release and his hole flutters around your three fingers that are still pumping in and out at a fast speed. Slurs of curses roll from his tongue, and so does your name, while his chest rises fast before his body slumps against the mattress.

“Please, please, stop,” he cries out, feeling overstimulated.

You listen, pulling your fingers out and cleaning them on his thigh before leaning forward to kiss him.

“Want you, mommy, please,” he pleads, tears rolling down his temple while his hands look for the warmth of your body. “Please, fuck me, need to feel you.”

“Calm down,” you say, giggling at his cuteness and eagerness and get rid of your panties, throwing them behind with no care, and then follows the bra.

Jeno feels less embarrassed now that you’re exposed too, and gets lost in your body for a few seconds before he bites back a moan when your warm and wet skin makes contact with him. “I — I can fuck you, I can make you feel good, too,” he promises. “Be your good boy and fu–fuck you well.”

You smile tenderly, teasing him as you grind your hips rubbing your pussy on his dick that’s resting on his stomach. “Oh, I know you can.”

“Please, please,” Jeno cries out more. His dick is incredibly sensitive, it’s painfully aching, begging to be wrapped by something after all this teasing. You barely paid it any attention this whole time. “Let me be your good boy, use me,” his voice breaks and he almost chokes on his words as his pleading eyes stare at you for mercy. “Use my — use my cock as you please. Use me like your toy,” he says, “your good toy.”

It almost breaks your heart; he needs validation so badly and you feel genuinely bad for never noticing this before. You just thought he was always so strong and confident; you didn’t think he needed reassurance so much.

“Here, pup,” you say, sinking into him.

Jeno’s head rolls back, his hands clasping around your waist, but his hold, even if it’s strong, is different from all the other times before.

“Fuck, mommy, feel so good.” The way your warm walls wrap around him send him straight to heaven, you’re wet and fit perfectly around him.

“Yeah, you too, baby. You feel so good,” you curse through gritted teeth. He might be a mess underneath you, whimpering, crying, and begging, but that doesn’t make his cock shrink. Jeno’s big, and you should be used to it by now, but somehow it still feels like it splits you open every time.

“Please, fuck me!” Jeno laments loudly, bouncing his hips against yours, but a stern look from you makes him stop and apologize, “So-sorry, fuck me, please?” This time his voice is soft and polite, a desperate edge but with no eagerness behind — yes, there is, but he tries hard not to show it.

“Oh, fuck,” he screams when you lift your body up and slam back into him. You’re a lazy rider usually, and to be more honest, you’re just never a rider, 90% of the time riding his dick is a punishment to make you work for it, but now… well, you kept your skills well stored in. “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” he whimpers, hands clenching hard around your waist until his knuckles go white.

“What? You wanted me to fuck you so badly, and now? Bit more than you can chew? Is this too much for you, pretty boy? You can’t take it?”

Jeno shakes his head. “No, no I can, ma’am, I can,” he whimpers, biting his lips harshly.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” you hum in satisfaction. Your hands fall at the sides of his head, your smaller body somehow still hovers over him and makes him feel smaller than ever. Your intense stare pins him to the mattress even more, making him shiver. “Give me your hands,” you order, but Jeno doesn’t listen — he doesn’t even hear, too lost in you to pay attention to your voice. “God,” you huff, rolling your eyes back, “I really have to do everything on my own because you’re just that dumb.” You forcefully grab his wrists, pushing his arms over his head and keeping them locked against the bed.

“No, I’m — I’m sorry, I — I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, you weren’t,” you mock, stilling before starting to pick up the pace again, “you weren’t listening ‘cause you can only focus on how good I’m making you feel, right? Stupid, dumb puppy can only think about his pleasure.”

“No, no, please, forgive me,” he begs, tears streaking down his face, and words coming out between gags and moans.

“Can you fuck back into me? Or are you too fucked out to do that?”

“No, no, I can. I’ll be good, I’ll be good for you, miss,” he promises, lifting his hips to meet you halfway, but his body feels so heavy and his brain is mush, unable to send signals to his muscles.

Your head rolls back and your hands wrap tighter around his wrists, you find yourself grinding against him, rubbing your clit every time you bottom all the way down. But Jeno’s thrusts are sloppy and messy, he’s not even that bad when he’s about to come. “Stupid puppy,” you taunt, slapping his ass. “Can’t even fuck me after all the pleasure I gave you.”

Jeno sobs, literally, loud cries coming from the back of his throat making him almost choke, and you’re about to stop everything in worry before you realize that’s not because you went too far — partially, maybe, he’s not really happy to be said he’s bad — but because he’s close again and he loves the way you talk down to him and slap him.

“Are you coming again?” You ask in utter surprise because you can’t believe it.

But he shakes his head, he’s fighting against himself to hold it back, and for the sake of having at least an orgasm too, you stop your movements.

“I won’t — won’t come,” he mumbles, lips quivering. “Can’t you… can’t you just use me?” he wails. “Please, I’m too tired. Just… use me like a…” The last words are a slur lower than a whisper, and his head turned to the side doesn’t help you hearing what he said.

You tilt your head to the side, cupping his chin to force him to look at you. “Repeat loud and clear if you don’t want to regret it.”

Jeno gulps, nodding vigorously, but his voice still shakes, and his cheeks burn red again as he repeats. “Use me like a dildo, please.”

“Oh… so, this is how you want to be good to me?” You ask, grinding your hips against him, the stimulation is bare for you but so much for him that you trigger whines and whimpers out of him.

“But it will feel good, even if I don’t move, you know it,” he tries to reason, pleading with his glossy eyes. “I can eat you out after, or — or now, whatever you please, miss.”

“Whatever I please, uhm?” You ask, grinning.

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll do whatever you want.”

You smile, caressing his face, smearing the wet mess around before your hand pats his head. “You’re lucky I want you exactly like this, like a toy.” You start fucking him with no warning, and a gasp rips from his vocal cords before he starts moaning again.

His eyes roll back at each of your hard thrusts, and you see his hands itch because he can’t touch you, but you don’t loosen the hold on him. You feel strong, a kind of power you didn’t even know you had in you, and you don’t want this to stop.

Jeno’s entire body trembles when your hand wraps around his neck, squeezing just enough to dim the flow of air in his lungs. It’s hot but unexpected, just like it’s unexpected that he almost comes on the spot.

“Oh, oh,” you hum in delight, the corner of your lips lifting as you stare at him. “You like it…” Jeno tries to deny but you can read his body; you felt his dick throb inside of you, his eyes flicker to you in light panic before rolling in his skull again, and his breath falter. “Don’t deny it, it wouldn’t be the most pathetic thing you get off to,” you mock, making him blush again. “It’s alright, you can be my naughty boy, I won’t judge.”

He can only hum, and now that you look better in his eyes, you see there’s something completely different behind them. He’s in a completely different headspace, and you fear he won’t last much longer.

It’s the same for you, the thrill and adrenaline can only push you so far, you’re not used to this, bouncing your hips harshly on his cock and having control, your thighs are starting to scream, and your brain doesn’t want to pay them attention but you both know you’re both at the finish line for this first time. Not to add, you’re in desperate need of an orgasm.

“Ti-tight,” Jeno gasps when your hold on his neck loosens enough to let him breathe in normally again, just the time that he can take a few breaths before it fastens again, it’s not too tight, it’s your first time, you don’t want to end with him passed out on the floor, but it’s enough to do its job.

“Yeah? Too tight for you? Can’t take it?”

He moves his head randomly, frenetic movements as he moves his lips to talk, useless. Your cunt is sucking away every coherent thought in his mind, the only thing filling his brain: you and the need to release.

“Don’t talk, don’t need it. I know you’re too sensitive, wanted me so much only to shake underneath me because I’m fucking you too well. Can’t even form a coherent thought in that stupid, little brain of yours, can you?”

He shakes his head, tears streaming down, but you kiss them — lick them — away.

“It’s alright, I don’t want you to think. I like it when your brain is empty. Your just my pretty boy, right? Pretty, good boy that let’s mommy fuck him?”

His nods are eager, and without even realizing his tongue lolls out. You pout at the view, patting his head when you let go of his neck, making him breathe. “Good pup. Just look pretty for me.”

“Pre-pretty,” he whimpers before a fucked-out smile paints his face.

“Yes, baby, you are,” you kiss his lips, petting his hair another time.

“Co-come, wanna come, please. Let me — let me come, ma’am,” he cries out when he has enough air in his lungs and sense in his brain. “Be-begging. I’m beg — mmph,” his words die in his mouth and his eyes squeeze tight when you voluntarily squeeze harder around him.

“Begging? Is this how a good boy begs?” You ask, looking at him sternly, not that it lasts long, because when his eyes open into yours, you fold.

“’M sorry, so-sorry,” he apologizes, “please, miss, let me come, let me come inside of you, let me fill you up. You’ll — you’ll feel good, I promise,” his words are all slurred out together, spit drips from his lips down to his chin and neck, and his body is burning up, if it didn’t mean to edge and denying an orgasm to yourself too, you would probably push him farther, curious to see how far he can go. But for now, it’s fine, he’s a good boy, he deserves it, and so do you.

“Please, please, please, ma’am.”

“You’ve been so good, baby. You can come.”

When you give him the green light, his body explodes, his hips even shyly chase the orgasm up against you, fucking back into you lazily. His head rolls back and as soon as your hand sets him free, his hands find your hips, holding them tight, hissing and groaning when you hold yourself up on his chest, nails digging into his skin as your body keeps bouncing up and down, riding your orgasms.

Your body collapses on his, exhausted and boneless just like his, and his arms wrap around it right away while he still sobs and whimpers in the crook of your neck.

“Shh, it’s alright, you’re alright,” you whisper in his ear while your hand caress his hair, wet again but not with water.

“Don’t — don’t pull out,” he whines when you lift your body, “nooo, don’t leave me.”

“I’m here,” you reassure him right away, carrying his body with yours so you lay on the side and can pull him in a hug. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good,” he mumbles, hiding between your chest and neck. “Tha-thank you, mhh, thank you for —” his voice breaks and his sobs get a bit louder as he hides more in your hold.

“Hey, it’s fine, take your time,” you say, still soothing him with circular movements on his back and soft rubs on his hair.

Jeno wants to talk, he has many things to say, damn, even an explanation to give to you, but he feels his body is heavy, he feels on a cloud, and you are the softness all over him, he feels safe, something he’s not used to feeling. You didn’t get mad at this, you won’t get mad if he falls asleep for a while, right? If he lulls in this sense of comfort and the aftermaths of what happened.

And almost as if you read his mind… “You can sleep if you want,” you say, kissing his forehead gently and rubbing his nape.

And he has no strength to reply as his body falls into a deep sleep.

When he wakes up, he’s not naked anymore, a big white shirt is around his body, covering just enough so he’s not completely exposed. The mattress is stripped from the dirty sheets and there’s a glass of water on the bedside table, but you’re not next to him.

Jeno almost panics, feeling the post-nut clarity made you run away scared and disgusted, but then the door opens, and you’re there. And it’s the same you he loves deeply. He can breathe again.

“Oh, hi, babe,” you greet with a big smile. You’re holding something in your hands and you’re wearing one of his shirts. “Feeling better?”

Jeno gulps, nodding and smiling at you, words are hard to find.

“Still too fucked out to talk?” You joke, slumping on the bed next to him, handing him the package of his favorite snacks. “Figured you needed some sugar after all that whimpering and squirming.”

“Oh, please, shut up,” he says, hiding his red face behind his hands.

“Hey, you were cute,” you say, grabbing his hands to move them out of the way. “I — I liked it. Did you?”

He nods quickly, okay maybe he’s still a little into that headspace.

You smile and then pout. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it. I’m always so loud and open about everything I want to try and… it never crossed my mind you might have different needs. I don’t know if you’re hiding anything else, but you can talk to me about everything. I love you and even if I might not be into something I won’t let it be the reason for a break-up, or a fight, or worse, making fun of you,” you say, grabbing his hands. “We can always try and then see the outcome. I mean, all that dominance before was improvisation, I was nervous as fuck too, I just tried to act like you usually do, tell me I was good,” you say, scrunching your face as you wait for his opinion.

Jeno laughs, it’s a genuine laugh, and you can almost see the weight being lifted off his chest. You still feel guilty for not making it feel like you could be a safe place for him, but it’s over now.

“You were really good,” he reassures you. “And… yes, I was a bit afraid of your reaction, but it was also something that had to do with myself. I’m — I’ve always been the strong one since I was a kid and then growing up it also turned into being this big ass man with muscles, so the pressure didn’t help.”

You nod in understanding. It makes you feel a bit less guilty, but you feel like there’s something else. “Is this all?”

“I also always have to be confident, but… I get insecure. I just feel like people are so used to me never making mistakes that they don’t even see my struggles or how hard I work for things, so all my hard work goes unnoticed. But I… I want to be… praised, I want to be told I’m doing good, I want people to tell me they’re proud of me.”

You cup his cheek gently and then kiss his nose, making him giggle. “I’m so proud of you, I tell you that, don’t I?”

“Yeah, you do, you’re the only one,” he says, leg bouncing nervously as he tries to find the words. But you’re holding his hand, rubbing circles on his palm and that’s calming him down a bit, or maybe not because he feels like he’s about to cry again.

“Hey,” you caress his chin and then rub your thumb on his cheek, your touch is soft, and his brain shuts off once again. It’s like he’s taking back all the wasted time he had to act tough and don’t melt in your touch. “I’m here, alright? Take your time.”

Jeno nods, small hums slipping out of his lips before he finds the courage to talk. “I don’t know, sometimes I just… I want to feel small. And I want to be the one getting cuddled and petted, and just taken care of. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love doing that for you, but… I always see you being so carefree when you’re with me and sometimes I get… so, so jealous because you can… you can loosen up, turn your brain off and no one will judge you. But if I do it, if I get… vulnerable in your hands, I don’t know what people will say.”

You caress his cheek before your hand runs in his hair, not only because it’s covering his handsome face again, but also because you learned he likes it a lot, and as expected, he smiles. “Do people need to know?”

He tilts his head and furrows in confusion. “They don’t?”

“I doubt people care about our sexual life, or what we do in our home. So, this can be our secret, at least until you’ll feel comfortable enough to let loose even outside of these walls. If you’ll share this with me, it will be less heavy, right?”

Jeno nods, smiling and pushing back tears.

“Hey, crybaby today, aren’t you? Come here,” you say, pulling him into a hug. He holds you tight, still afraid you might slip from his hold, and breathes deep your scent.

When you pull away, Jeno’s looking into your eyes and you hum to signal him he can talk.

“Thank you, I don’t know what I would do without you. Seriously, you made me feel safe and not judged, it means the world to me.”

“It’s the way you make me feel always, I’m glad you could feel that way too. And I proved I can protect you even if I don’t have all your muscles,” you joke, lifting your arm and flexing your not-trained bicep, making him laugh. “But seriously, I would never judge you, and I really love this version of you, so, unleash it more often.”

Jeno smiles widely, his eyes turning up in his usual half-moons, and then he lays on the bed, tapping the space next to him. You beam and crawl next to him, pulling him closer again, his head rests on your chest while your hands caress his hair and you just relax in the silence of the house.

“I love you,” you whisper, kissing the top of his head, his hair tickling you for a second. “And I’ll love every version of you, in any universe.”

Jeno still has a secret, but luckily, he has you to share it with.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @rbf-aceu ; @shiningnono ; @jaeminsbebu | general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo

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#nct fanfiction #jeno smut #lee jeno smut #sub!jeno #jeno hard hours #jeno hard thoughts #nct dream smut #sub!nct #sub!nct dream #nct smut #dom!reader #sub!idol #nct dream hard hours #nct hard hours

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kidstemplatte · 7 months

Text

papas reacting to fnaf

this is so silly but i’m a diehard fnaf fan. also i started thinking about the parallels between the afton and emeritus family and got rlly emotional LMAO. please enjoy teehee

primo

-you’re sitting at your computer, losing your fucking mind. why is night 4 so hard???

“let me try.” he says.

-you know he won’t get far, bless his heart, but you’ll let him give it a shot.

-little do you know, he’s an absolute BEAST

-he takes a seat at your desk and starts clicking.

so i… stop them?”

“yeah. just don’t let them get into the office.”

“the power’s going down.”

“yeah, when you use the cameras, turn on the lights, or use the doors, it’ll go down. then it’s game over.”

he nods.

-he’s weirdly quiet, clicking away, until you suddenly hear the joyous chimes indicating he’s survived until 6 am.

“is that all?” he goes.

-your mouth is literally agape, you’re in shock.

-it doesn’t scare him at all

-he starts playing the game at his office whenever he needs a break. doesn’t flinch.

-lowkey sheds a tear at henry’s speech.

-he doesn’t like security breach, he prefers the repetitiveness of the old games

-he takes the lore very seriously, like it’s a piece of fine literature LOL

-the story of the afton family is heartbreaking to him and he relates to it a tad </3

-his favorite game is the OG and his favorite character is freddy. he’s a simple man.

secondo

-“this is stupid. what am i supposed to- FUCK! SATANAS! STAI INDIETRO, CREATURA DISGOSTA!”

-he clears his throat.

“i was caught off guard.”

-he doesn’t want to watch the lore videos at first because he thinks it’s “childish” but soon is sucked in.

-watches the lore videos with you and is specifically fascinated with william aftons character.

-he likes kids so he’s immediately disgusted by the cruelty of his actions

-he makes it his life’s mission to unpack the psychology of william afton

-his favorite is fnaf 4, he likes the nightmare designs

-HATES BALLOON BOY. wants to punch him in the face.

-he’s not very good at the games and curses so loudly when he plays because he’s so determined to make it through the night 😭

terzo

-“five nights at freddy’s? why are you spending the night with freddy and not me?”😏

-terzo hates mascots so he’s already scared shitless.

-when he plays the game he talks to himself like a maniac.

“no. stay, bunny. do not move. you too, bear. WHERE DID THE CHICKEN COME FROM? no, let’s NOT eat- eat by yourself, chicken!”

-loses his mind at the jumpscares, screams like a little girl.

-but he’s so interested in the complexity of the lore

-terzo goes down internet rabbit holes late at night LMAO so he’s more than willing to watch lore videos with you

-bro had to do a double take when he saw toy chica💀

-“purple man? he has good taste, no?”

immediately takes it back when he finds out what his deal is

-hums the theme song while he’s at work.

-his favorite game is fnaf 2 (and it has nothing to do with toy chica)

copia

-take a shot every time i say this on my account:

copia is a big fat dork.

(but we all are too, and we love him for it)

-he doesn’t understand it’s scary at first. aww, look at the bear! clicks freddy’s nose on the poster over and over. “boing! boing! boing! boing! boing!”

-but as soon as he checks the cameras he’s like OH. i see what this is.

-he gets so stressed playing the game LMAO

-when you introduce him to the lore he’s so fascinated and deeply invested. it rattles his brain but he can’t get enough.

-the next morning after you watch a video with him he has deep eye bags. you find out he stayed up all night watching lore videos.

-soon he’s a diehard fan. he keeps merch in his office beside his comics and other collectibles.

-his favorite game is pizzeria simulator because he loves the non-scary part 😭

-he loves foxy because he’s “misunderstood”🥺

-and mangle, thinks it’s sad how the kids took her apart and put her back together :,(

-has all the plushies LOL

#the band ghost #ghost band #ghost #papa emeritus iii #terzo #papa emeritus #papa terzo #papa emeritus x reader #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #secondo x reader #copia x reader #primo x reader #papa headcanons

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razorblade180 · 1 year

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Twin Snowflakes 47:Who are you?

TSF 46 <-

“Where am I?” Nick said, dazed and confused as he began to wander. Nothing but thick plumes of fog around him and a bitter cold under his feet.

“Helloo…?” He spoke cautiously. The area wasn’t the only thing clouded. Poor boy rubbed his head while trying to recollect his thoughts. Let’s see: walked to school, searched for Summer, then… “Oh, right.” He placed his right hand over his stomach. “Crap…”

That’s right. Then Shiva happened. Nick could feel the fear creep up his skin and an emptiness began to swell. Did he…die? Is this what’s left when all is said and done. Nick wanted to shake the thoughts away but couldn’t. Not when it was all so confusing.

“No, this can’t be happening.”

“Oh it’s happening~” a calm, quiet voice uttered passed the boy’s ears that made him jolt.

Nick immediately turned around. “Who’s there!?” Fog swirled around him like a tight vortex before fanning out like blown candle smoke. He was in his house, but not the manor. His family’s first home. A lofty apartment in Argus.

“What the…” he was at a loss for words. Old smells of spices, slight dust, and even the varnished floors brought back memories. It had felt like a lifetime ago since he was here. Before inheritance was reclaimed, the cutlery was real silver, and…

“Give it back!” A little girl yelled, chasing her brother furiously down the hall. “Nicholas!!”

The child blew a raspberry as he waved around Summer’s stuffed rabbit overhead. He climbed up the couch out of her reach while she whined.

“I said give it back!”

“No! You are my cookies!”

“Our cookies! Dad said to share!”

“Dad also said to eat desserts for desserts only. You’re going to get fat!” He stuck his tongue out, making the older version of himself groan.

Summer began to cry like any young child would. The real Nicholas sat on the couch as the memory played out. He stared up at the ceiling for several seconds before looking to his left to see it got to the part Summer had yanked his foot off the couch and they were fighting on the floor. Why was he here?

“You remember this?”

“Of course I do.” He answered the voice annoyingly. Nick wasn’t about to ask the obvious question about who he was speaking to, knowing somehow it wouldn’t give him a satisfying answer. “Why does this matter?”

“You really hated her.”

“No, kids fight over stupid things. Nothing more, nothing less.” The small versions of themselves poofed into fog again and again to display different memories. Summer would ask to play with him, but he’d refuse. She’d throw a pillow at him; he’d try to fight her. Even that one time he got locked in their dog’s kennel because of her, which he paid back making her dolls into Dolt’s chew toys. Time after time, their parents criticized both of them. Nick could see the irritation on the younger him.

“Forever out of sync. It’s almost like she slowed you down. Hate may be a strong word but you two certainly weren’t on even ground.”

“What’s your point? Children bicker. We got over it.”

“No. You eventually just felt guilty.”

Everything vanished this time and remade the vortex. When it dissipated, Nick’s eyes darken as he sat on the shoreline of a lake. In front of him was a massive explosion of white and standing in between was himself again; right arm still out after throwing one of his ice skates before the shock wave sent him flying back. Just like how it sent his mother slamming against the frozen lake, and his sister crashing into it. This out of body experience made his gut drop. The horror on his dad’s face as he dove to save Summer. The panic that instantly hit Weiss as she scrambled towards him. He had forgotten the specifics of that day.

The quickly faded then appeared again with his family and self next to him. Nick felt pins and needles in his skill and a lump in his throat as Summer laid in the snow, skin tinted a chilling blue. Except for the spots that bled from Diamond Dust puncturing her body. Nick made the same look of abject horror he did when he was little.

“How often does this plague your dreams? Oh how you wish it was only a nightmare. The mistake that changed everything. No matter how much time passes, it all started with you.”

The environment changed again to the hospital. His younger self stood at Summer’s bedside, quietly singing and praying over the sounds of machines beeping.

“From here on out you try to do right by her, but for your own sake. Not because you’re a good person, but because you’re a guilty one.”

“Being swallowed by guilt is proof of how deep my remorse goes, the depths of my regret and desire to do right.” Nick hastily justified

“Hmph, Is that what your therapist told you? How laughable. True or not, it’s not the only thing that manifested.”

With no warning or fog, Nick was in the manor main entrance abruptly. The lights were out and the air was still. He couldn’t find his younger self in sight, but as his eyes locked onto a Christmas tree, he understood why. It was that memory. Footsteps pitter pattered down the stairs as Summer skipped. Her hair glowed a pure white and icy eyes lit up the dark. Even seeing her this small, Shiva unnerved him.

The being looked around humming. “Nick? Helloooo? Let’s talk a little bit.” Her voice was deceptively innocent. Not that he ever fell for it. She kept singing to herself. “Let it snow let it snow let it- ah. I see you.” She turned towards the older Nick.

“What…?” He took a step back. Nick tried reaching for a blade, forgetting there was none. A sharp pain went through his abdomen that brought him to his knees. The familiar pain of being stabbed washed over him as Shiva walked closer. It felt like the dagger was in him all over again. He shouted “WAIT!”

The memory disappeared along with the pain but left him gasping and dripping sweat.

“Fear. Pure, inescapable fear.” Fog turned into the many instances of Nick running, hiding, and even fighting Shiva. “Everything you do is in service of making yourself feel better. Nothing about you is good.”

“You’re wrong!”

“AM I!?” A memory is brought forth of students laughing at Summer’s scars before Nick steps in. “Guilt.”

Another one manifests about him leaving notes for Summer after deciding to lay in bed all day. “Wouldn’t be depressed if not for you.”

A third memory of Nick watching videos of Summer fighting and reading old research notes from Penny in the middle of night. “Can’t sleep without double and then triple checking every advantage you have over your sister you claim to love so much. Love doesn’t drive your blade. It’s fear and anger; the daunting reality that you’re still paying for your idiocy. Truly, you’ve never stopped being at odds with your sister. Now look at you.”

All the fog came back again while Nick struggled to breathe. It swirled faster and faster, making countless memories of Nick rushing to Summer. Igniting flame dust under them when facing Shiva, running to her during the Paladin fight, taking Max’s hits, being the barrier in many team fights or watching from a distance; all leading up to one final memory of him bleeding on the floor. The pain in him grew worse. Breathing felt impossible and his eyes teared up.

“You truly are a pathetic fool. Every time…you know the risks. You know it’s reckless, but yet you don’t run in because that’s the only way. You aren’t watching for all the possibilities or even for Summer’s sake. No matter how many times you do it, you still did none of those things when she fell in the lake. You’ve changed nothing.”

Nick’s body hit the cold ice floor, jolting and begging for air as he clenched his chest; tears in his eyes bringing fleeting warmth. He knew all this. Nick couldn’t remember a day a thought or two plagued him, drove his movements to be correct. To feel correct. All for the hope it could mean something. In the end..it only paved the way to more mistakes with Summer, Valerie, his family, Veronica, Eliza, and now ultimately…his death. He was dying now, breaking every promise to them and himself; and it was all his fault.

“A failure to the end.”

His vision blurred, returning to the darkness. It was quiet, still. All seemed to finally end, except…

“…et …p!” A muffled, fainter voice wandered in the darkness. “…K …ET …P!!!!” It grew louder, turning from silent whispers to a violent cry. “NICK! GET UP!!!! PLEASE!!!! BE STRONG!!”

Like a diver finally reaching the surface, Nicholas gasped for air. The darkness shattered around him like broken class. Heat swelled inside his chest that spread to his limbs as he slammed the ground with his fist. The strike brought with it a blast of air that blew away all the fog that tried to devour him, leaving him stumbling to his feet. As he trembled, Nick examined himself. The sharp pain was gone. His aura grew bright white and held his blade tightly in his right hand. Nick tried desperately to gather his wits.

“Was that- ”He was once again derailed though, as the fog moved again. This time it rose high before slamming down in a funnel several feet in front of him. It pushed towards him suddenly and without warning. Nick brought his blade up to guard. He was shocked when the sound of metal clashed with it. Again the force blew the fog away, but left what came in contact. Nick’s eyes widened before sharpening.

On the other side of Mort Froide was glowing blue eyes and brilliant white hair that radiated with power and cold. He had seen those features time and time again. However, now they had his face.

“What’s wrong?” It said sharply, “Aren’t you used to having a violent twin?”

“You are not my twin.” Nick brought his left hand on his sword pushed away as he lept back. The moment his feet hit the ground he lunged forward swinging. His identical foe brought his blade up in defense, swinging back at the fury of slashes. Sparks flew and the two slid across the void.

“Why so eager to stab your face?” It tilted its head left and right to avoid harm, swinging when it could and sidestepping Nick’s assault. “I thought you loved standing around and thinking!” He smacked away the sword from his chest and went on the offensive.

Despite years of Shiva, Nick couldn’t believe what he was facing. Its bladework moved just like his own. Nick blocked a spinning slash to the right of his face, only for the blade to bounce off and go for his left which he quickly ducked. A left kick came crashing into his lower jaw, knocking him away but Nick rolled into a handspring back to his feet. His opponent was already right in front of him again about to run him through.

It was caught off guard however. Expecting another backstep, it wasn’t ready for Nick to lean forward and left. The blade missed Nick’s side and a forceful headbutt smashed into the beings nose before a slash cut across its gut with enough force to send it sliding back. It held its face in pain. “Well that’s a nice look.” It said seeing the wrathful yet calculated glare Nick sent its way.“If looks could kill.” It made the same face back, stabbing their sword into the floor to stop itself before rushing forward while yelling. Their sword dragged across the ice.

Nick placed both hands on his hilt and swung downward in sync with upward slash, canceling it out. The collision brought forth intense wind and flurries of ice. Nick’s feet briefly left the ground while his arms flew upwards on impact with Mort Froide still firmly gripped. The boy yelled as he used his strength to swing it back down faster than his enemy could recover, but was blocked despite the efforts. Both regained footing and went right back to close quarters with Nick on the defensive. Despite the clear threat before him, Nick felt as if something was…off.

The strikes, power, speed, even with this burning intensity inside of him, Nick felt abnormally calm while fighting. Everything was for lack of better word, manageable. He leaned left, ducked, then thrusted forward but the foe dodged back. No matter. Nick followed through, letting his body continue to move forward as he dug his blade the best he could into the ice and vaulted forward, kicking “It” in the stomach, sending them tumbling. Nick was confused. By no means was this fight technically easy, but it definitely wasn’t hard. Was it because there was no move done Nick hadn’t done a thousand times? No, it was more than that. Nick has dealt with Diamond Dust and fought Shiva more times than he’d like to count. Yet all of them felt far more dire, more fearful than this. Why?

The thought to himself for a second, “I need to think this through. How do I get out of-” A huge thump and gust of wind brought his enemy swings a sword in the blink of an eye. “Shit!”

“EYES OPEN!” He aimed for Nick’s right arm.

Too close to dodge and caught unfocused. Nick let his left hand let go of Mort Froide. With his right, Nick flicked his wrist to spin the sword, switching to a reverse grip. The blade now pointed towards him, under his armpit and partially blocking his upper arm. The last stitch effort had his blade catch some of the attack. Both blades still hit his arm, causing pain and knocking him to the ground with force that sent a couple feet. Nick dropped his blade on impact and landed on his back where he looked to see his attacker coming down with their sword ready to pierce through him. If it were any other fighter, using any other blade, Nick may have faltered. However, Nick knew that body and that blade. With no hesitation he brought his hands up and caught the blade between them. The cold steel slid slightly between them , but did not graze his body as he used all his might.

Even with the advantage of pushing their weight down, the being couldn’t make the sword budge! It didn’t give up however. Slowly but surely Nick wouldn’t hold out. Still, that glare he gave said otherwise.

Both struggled greatly against one another. Nick winced as his grip threatened to break. He refused to go out like this yet his body refused to cooperate. A few more seconds. That’s all he needed to outlast the struggle. It looks like he wouldn’t be granted that unfortunately. That was until a voice rang clear as day again.

“Be strong. You don’t lose, ever.”

A warmth spread again and a power endured along with a glowing aura. Wait a second, he knew this feeling. He could recognize that voice. “Val…” renewed power erupted. Somehow she was reaching him, semblance and all. Nick started pushing back with this buff but only managed to widen the gap by a few inches before the being also tried harder. Nick’s eyes witnessed its own body glowing with renewed vigor. “What!?”

“Don’t think I’ll just let you have your way!” It growled.

This wasn’t right. Was Valerie’s words reaching it as well? How could that be? She was clearly talking to- “Oh..” he said softly. Gears were finally clicking into place and if he was being honest, Nick was incredibly annoyed by it. To make things worse, that feeling would only grow if what he did next worked. “Hey! We got shit to do! Now is not the time!”

It blinked. The sword turned to fog unexpectedly and the foe jumped off of Nick and stared with an equally annoyed expression. It huffed, “Really? That’s all you got to say to that? Typical.”

“Ugh, god damnit.” Nick groaned as he sat up. “Are you… seriously just me?”

“Well what do you mean by that exactly?”

“Those insults you said, even the memories, they’re nothing I don’t already inflict on myself on the regular. Not to mention you're getting stronger because of Valerie’s semblance, which means you recognize yourself as me.”

“I think you mean that you see me as yourself.” Nick squinted at it questionably. A reasonable face. “Trust me, there’s a difference.”

“O..kay.” Nick was gonna roll with that. “So we’re the same, yet the way you answered me sounds like there’s more to it if there’s a difference.”

It sighed, finally sitting down. “That, I do not know. I assume because you don’t know either. Even so…”

“We’re far more the same than anything different. You are me but, ugh, how do I put it into words?”

Nick stared at this mirror of himself. Actually, mirror was a terrible word. It wasn't the opposite at all. Nick’s had that anger, the annoyance and cadence of a person over with everyone’s perception. Brutal and focused on himself. It’s what he let out on the battlefield. The side he always hid behind the mask. The real him, the one that opponents named… “Gilgamesh.” He said softly.

“Ha! Sure, if that makes sorting things easier. I was getting a little upset that you haven’t called me anything until now. This works for simplicity's sake, Nicholas.”

Man, Nick didn’t realize he sounded this much like a jerk when given the opportunity. No wonder people wanted to fight him. “This is weird.”

“What’s weird about it? We both know many forces are at play here. Forces we don’t completely understand but can rationalize. For example, I’m all the little bits of you that try to regulate, personified thanks to Diamond Dust.”

Nick had to think about that for a moment. Time to reflect on what facts he knew. He was having surgery that required Diamond Dust to help keep him alive long enough for his aura to heal him properly. Penny has worked with the dust on people before for medical reasons. Those people at times had short term side effects of feeling dazed or even sad. So in other words…

“This is my subconscious?” He looked around. “Why so empty? I’m always thinking about things. Then again, I am in a coma presumably clinging to life.”

“You’re thinking so you’re clearly not dead.”

That was reassuring. Though that moment darkness came now feels even scarier to him. “So we’re the same, but all the negativity and more internal thoughts brought to the forefront. I guess that checks out.”

Gilgamesh shrugs. “I don’t have all the answers, but seeing you like this is unclouding my perspective in a sense. I definitely believe you’re on track, despite a few things about myself personally I can’t really explain.”

“My guess would be the Diamond Dust. It’s the only foreign thing between the two of us from what I can tell. Never mind that for now. What’s puzzling is even when we fought, I had to on some level see you as myself. You even showed me my memories from years ago. That’s nothing like Shiva and Summer. They have independent memories. Both have been left in the dark by one another. As if they’re two different people.”

“We’ll go back to the facts. You know that can’t be correct based on what you called me. I hurt you with your own doubts. Kicked you while you were down and knew what buttons to push.”

Gilgamesh could see Nick try to sort this out. Odd, he was reaching conclusions faster than Nick. “You’re in denial, aren’t you?” He could see the boy tense up. “Do not dismiss the ugly possibilities. They’ll only go to me.”

Nick glared. It’s not like he meant to do it, pushing the nagging thoughts away to the back. He sighed with a heavy heart. Time to explore the sadder and less comprehensible possibilities. “Shiva’s actions are somehow dictated by Summer’s own thoughts.”

“Meaning?” Gilgamesh pushed. He would not let Nick look away from this. “Say it.”

Sorrow hit Nick’s heart. “My sister might want me dead.”

Silence hung in the air. It had to be acknowledged. For years they fought and struggled. It wouldn’t be right to accept that some anger and stress on his side was born from trying to help Summer, without thinking it was entirely possible Summer might absolutely hate him deep down in her heart for putting her in this predicament in the first place. Even if she may not be completely aware of it.

“I don’t know why you’re getting so sad about finally getting answers with tangible evidence to support it. Don’t forget, Summer wasn’t treated with Diamond Dust like you or anyone else. It’s entirely possible that her negativity towards everyone is only as strong as it is because of just how much dust is stuck in her system. For all you know she may hate you a healthy amount.”

That…was true. Nick jumped straight to the worse, caught up in his own guilt again. He looked at Gilgamesh, who merely shrugged. “How do you feel about all that?”

“Me? Well I can’t exactly hate her for getting upset. Your best is pretty damn slow and inconsiderate. Although…Summer hasn’t exactly been making helping her easy.” He folded his arms. “Things wouldn’t be nearly as bad if she helped herself properly.”

“Hmph.” It was funny. Hearing that felt both wrong yet satisfying. Like it was exactly what he needed. “Fair enough. I’ll chew her out when this is all over. In order for that to happen though-”

“Don’t look at me for how to wake up. This entire workshop thing we’re doing is quite the headache as is.” He looked around the vacant mind. “Might as well get a little cozy.”

Rays of sunlight rained down from an endless red sky. Nick always liked sunsets. To him they felt more like beginnings than ends; a chance to reevaluate for tomorrow with all the information gathered today. He shifted his gaze to empty space. Nick shut his eyes tightly before opening them again to see a happy white Labrador wagging its tail. Dolt, his family’s former dog.

“Summer often talked about her headspace and how it could vary. Dreams, stress, familiar sights, she said it could shift on a whim and Shiva constantly did her damnedest to assault her. Our fight was brief but daunting. Hers must feel like an endless marathon.”

“Not really a marathon if it’s endless.”

“I’m beginning to understand why Eliza isn’t exactly the happiest when she sees us.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know you can be annoying.” Gilgamesh smiled. He layed in the cold ice floor and felt the pulsing cold run through his body. “This feels…familiar.”

“We’ve been hit with our fair share of cold attacks and face plants on the skating rink.”

“True, but it isn’t that. Question, logic dictates anything in here should be derived from your memory, correct?”

“It’s my subconscious so yeah. Still, the mind can be unreliable.”

“Be that as it may, don’t you find it odd how this place manifests? Summer has told and described the headspace natural state. She’s never mentioned fog.”

“We are currently comatose in a hospital bed struggling to live. I wouldn’t say any function of my body is in a natural state at the moment. Though I can see what you’re saying. I suppose the only real way to know the extent of this experience is if I can come back once I wake.” Nick looked at Gilgamesh. He seemed to be off in his own world so to speak. Could a subconscious even have its own introspective? Nick didn’t want to think about that rabbit hole. “Please say something.”

“Are you cold?”

“Uhhh no. I feel fine? About as fine as I think I could feel. If I wasn’t then I’m sure we’d be hearing Valerie yell.”

“Ahh Val” Gilgamesh chuckled, “wanna see those memories?”

“Stay focused.” Nick demanded. Another rabbit hole of feelings that while important, was not what he wanted to think about. Gilgamesh must’ve agreed because they didn’t try pushing the topic further. “So you feel cold?”

“Yeah. I’m feeling the chill we always get.”

“Maybe don’t lay on the-” Nick paused to think for a second. “…ice.” He finished. Gilgamesh sat up and gave him a mischievous smile that made Nick wonder. “You’re guiding my train of thought. All these things, you’re saying them for a reason.”

“I cannot give you any real answers to anything you ask. It’s all what you personally sort out. However…” he places his hand against his chest. “The differences between us, the extra inside me, I feel drawn to act; compelled towards more of those differences. These aren’t your feelings. They’re something else entirely.”

Nick’s eyes widened. “You’re sensing Diamond Dust under the ice?” He looked down again. “It’s not like it’s the lake, or real for that matter. It’s just this massive never ending floor.”

“Do you really believe that?”

Another question as if Gilgamesh as prying for specific information. Nick didn’t understand what the being wanted him to think over. What was compelling it? Why was Gilgamesh getting a chill? Shiva? Nicholas tried to make logical sense of it. Gilgamesh sensing her could be possible. Not only because of the dust connection but also because Nick wouldn’t say he had anything but negative thoughts on her. Nick’s general unease about her might be finding its way to his friend. Then there was whatever outside might bring. Shiva physically might be close to his body. That would mean she got inside the hospital. Could Valerie’s screams for earlier be-

“No.” He said to himself, shaking his head to dismiss that kind of thinking. Gilgamesh once again didn’t bring up that intrusive moment. Nick was fine with puzzles but this was annoying. If Shiva was outside, he’d have no way of confirming. Then again, given recent circumstances, Nick was confident if she was close then he’d be dead. That only leaves her presence being felt from inside which isn’t possible. Shiva exists in Summer’s headspace doing gods knows what. He thought back to the last time he saw her. The headspace began changing again to recreate the fresh memory of him bleeding on the cold metal ground as she stood over him ready to kill.

Gilgamesh was impressed by the sudden recreation. Too bad he didn’t care for this particular memory. Their eyes narrowed as they looked at Shiva. “What does she have to cry about?”

“If I remember correctly, Shiva gloated about my failure to realize the danger. How Summer was screaming inside the entire time for me to go.” Nick deflated, “my guess is those are Summer’s tears.” He still found their connection hard to believe. Those two were just so different. Maybe he didn’t really know his sister at all? Nick hugged his knees. Then, he started to let that thought sink in. Maybe…he didn’t know his sister at all. His eyes began to widen. “Gilgamesh?”

“Honestly it’s kinda funny you calm me as if I can’t somewhat immediately sense your thoughts.”

“Shut up and listen. Earlier we established that on some subconscious, I saw you and knew it was me. Rather, I perceived you to be me. The way you talked, the insults, etc. I recognized them. Do you think..” he stopped and rephrased, remembering what Gilgamesh said about answers. “I think Summer and Shiva are so out of sync and disconnected because Summer can’t imagine herself like that.”

“What, upset and violent?”

“No. Strong and capable” the fog faded and reformed as dozens upon dozens of Summer’s at various ages crying, scared, and shutting away from the world. “Without the stage, she was never confident. Always second guessing.”

“You’re partly to blame. Always rushing in. Then I’m other cases where she may try to stand stall..”

He added another memory that made Nick’s gut twist. It was the two of them yelling at each other after the doubles round for the tournament.

“Like I said, you never really stopped fighting. You just always found reasons to pin blame on yourself or felt obligated to fold. Not this time though. She had it coming a bit though if you ask me.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Nick frowned as he looked at the memory. “I don’t listen just as much as her.”

“Is that all to your current theory about Shiva?”

“More or less. Diamond Dust affects the mind. Can’t see why a large amount on top of low self esteem, depression, and all the other exhausting things our head inflicts on us could be too much to handle. Shiva is so cocky. She knows she’s smart, powerful, thinks nobody can handle her, and that she’s gorgeous. If you’re the side of myself I try to cover with a mask,then maybe Shiva is everything Summer doesn’t think she is but wants to be?” Nick walked closer to the memory. His fists clenched in his folded arms as he subdued a low grown.

“Are you displeased with your own idea? Just because it’s an answer you don’t like-”

“Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be proud of finding one. I’m not upset that it’s the best I can come up with or that it may even be true. I’m upset that it took such drastic measures to arrive at simple introspection.”

“Can you really hold yourself accountable for such a thing? Why the hell should you, a child, have all the answers right away? Nobody has ever seen anything like this. Are you going to be upset if all of this is wrong and it’s an entirely different reason? No, because you’re working with what you have. Get over yourself. No matter how you care about anyone or anything, it doesn’t make you the one that’s gonna solve everything. At this point you might have accomplished more than Penny.”

“Now that last part is pure ego. She’s currently the main reason we’re alive right now.”

“I’ll give you that one. I wonder how her mind would even perceive the subconscious?”

Nick couldn’t help but think of binary code. “Who can say? The mind is annoying. But I guess I shouldn’t be complaining since I’ve only been in here..uhh, umm.” He looked at Gilgamesh.

“What? I don’t have a watch. Don’t concern yourself with problems that may not exist. Not when there’s an immediate one before you. After all, you just praised Penny for her abilities. Summer never lost a drastic amount of time when she was in her headspace.”

“Because everyone was doing all they could to bring her back each time. I can’t fathom how everything is in their head right now. It could be a battlefield for all we know. Ruined forests or a demolished room. Her favorite snowboarding mountain on the worst possible day, all the chaotic space with that giant c-”

It finally clicked in his head, the meaning behind Gilgamesh’s quest about logic and memory. Summer had told Nick the countless environments that’s been in her head,along with the one trait that kept persisting; the vast ceiling of ice that only seemed to be disturbed whenever she was regaining control. Gilgamesh didn’t say a word to Nick and he didn’t have to. Once again, Nick stared at the floor.

“Ah, I see.” He said pensively. All the chills over the years, they potentially had an intriguing and unusual answer. “But why is it like this? How

even?”

Gilgamesh shrugged, cracking a smile. “Call it what you always do. A twin thing. Now then…I think that’s all we got.”

“All we got?” Nick watched the fog begin to clear. A strange, lucid sensation came over his mind like a wave that made him lightheaded. He looked over at Gilgamesh to see his body begin to get blurry.”

“Gil?”

“Ha! You’re doing nicknames now? Little late for that. Though I suppose you can spread it around to everyone outside.”

So that was it. His body must be waking up. “Will I ever see you again?”

A ridiculous question. Gilgamesh laughed at it in good faith as Nick looked at him with concern. “You make it sound like you’re losing someone important. Get a grip. There’s never been a day I wasn’t with you. There’s no person in our life that doesn’t know I exist. Every glare, every fight, every real emotion and aspiration, it’s always me they see. I believe you’ve heard it countless times before?”

Nick chuckled, “Heh, I got it written all over my face.” He folded his arm. “Guess I don’t have to thanks then. Always knew I had it in myself.”

“Tsk, still a terrible liar.”

Just like that, everything faded, becoming darkness once again. However, Nick didn’t feel fear or strain like the first time. Instead he felt light pressure on his chest that wrapped around his arms. Muted muffles gradually became clear and blinding light filled his vision as his eyes tried adjusting. When he finally came to, he realized he was sitting up and the pressure on him only got a bit tighter. Nick looked down to see the top of familiar orange hair crying against him

“V..al?” His voice was weak and dry.

His friend kept holding on to him. “You’re okay!” She whimpered, “You’re finally okay.”

Despite his time in bed, Nick felt exhausted. That was natural of course but even so, he didn’t even have the energy to hug back. He could already tell that his body felt lighter and his mouth could still taste some anesthetic. Hospitals truly were the definition of necessary evil in his eyes. Though he was incredibly biased thinking such a thing. He flexed his arms outward which got Valerie to let go now that she had calmed down. Nick gasped seeing her finally sit up and face him directly. Now he was aware he was still gathering himself, but last time he checked, Valerie had a short pixie cut. Now he was getting middle school and childhood flashbacks as orange turned into black near her ears and just barely rested over her shoulder in the form of a braid. Valerie must’ve noticed his reaction but chose to smile softly and rub his arm. Uh oh, that didn’t inspire comfort.

Tired, Nick looked at the beeping machines that showed his vitals. Screw it. He can take a little shock. He looked right back at Valerie and got straight to the point. “How long?” He sighed.

Valerie was hesitant. “It’s…been three months.”

Three full months in the world’s biggest snow globe, and Shiva was living in it.

“Ah.” Nick said, letting that fact sink in. “Well then, that’s not good.” His mind was catching up and so was the beeping of several machines. “That’s not good at all.”

#rwby #nicholas schnee #val valkyrie #rwby au #rwby twin snowflakes #summer schnee

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tteokdoroki · 3 years

Note

bestie bestie bestie pup boy bakugou in rut adn fucking his bunny girl gf n' he breeds her and- yeah

— “bitch bunny.” + katsuki bakugou.

bestie,,, bestie dont get me started on this!!! i made this gender neutral 🥺 so i hope you don’t mind uwu!!

pairing: german shepard!bakugou x bunny + gender neutral!reader

cw: smut, MDNI 18+, hybrid!pairing, slight!dub-con, oral sex, some degradation and dirty talk. reader is gender neutral and has no pronouns but i think i used slit once aaa!!

can you imagine being a hybrid!bunny adopted by deku, shy and timid— a shaky darling thing with a twitching nose and floppy bunny ears that fall over your face when you get nervous or flustered. izuku is nice, he takes care of you and brings you home from that god awful shelter. his place is warm and safe and oh, he’s got a little puppy friend for you to play with.

katsuki.

he’s mean, an awful german shepard!hybrid who snarls at you when izuku isn’t looking— steals your food, nips at your ankles and tears up your clothes. you hate him, you hate that you let him make you cry but don’t dare to snitch because you fear what he might do to you. katsuki had lived with deku longer, been loved longer and you were just a stupid bunny who was lucky to even be here. or so the blonde had told you over and over, backing you into a corner when your owner wasn’t looking.

he doesn’t mean it. is what izuku tells you when he gets you both ready for bed at night, hybrids need special care and izuku likes to bathe you together— bakugou stares at your body hungrily like you’re a piece of meat. kacchan can play nice, he’s just a little rough sometimes. another excuse.

a little rough doesn’t even begin to cover it.

not when katsuki has you pinned to the bed by a strong arms, cruel smirk spread widely across his cherry lined lips while your precious, meaty thighs shake either side of his head. “look at’cha bunny, shakin’ like a fuckin’ leaf ‘n i ain’t even touched’ya yet,” bakugou growls with a yank of your fluffy rabbit tail. your sex spasms, arousal staining the surrounding areas and dripping heavily onto the cotton sheets of deku’s bed. “poor lil bunbun trapped in heat, ‘n i’m the only one left’ta deal with ya....”

lust is heavy in his tone, blood red eyes dilating while he watches your hips jump up in desperation for some kind of friction and touch. “kat...katsuki, please...it hurts,” and it does, more than any of the mean words he’d thrown at you before. there’s heat burning in your lower tummy, spreading through the blood in your veins as your hole clenches around nothing and leaks pathetically under bakugou’s watchful gaze.

the blonde makes a feral noise in the back of his throat, pointed puppy ears twitching at your needy sounds— the broken moans that bubble from chapped lips. “yeah bunny?” he says breathless, voice lowering deep and husky. “it hurts not ta ‘ave a cock in ya huh? reaching deep in that tight, dirty fuckin’, scratchin’ that itch that you’re fingers can’t reach...” katsuki mutters filthy words into the plains of your skin, tongue dragging along your thighs as he approaches your sex— marking and biting a pathway towards it. his sharp canines sink harshly into the flesh that he moulds between large hands.

your chest rises and falls with your rapid, beating bunny heart— fear consuming you as your innermost instincts have been switched on. katsuki is a dog and you’re merely his prey for the evening, a darling little toy for him to take advantage of in your time of need. “katsu—“ you beg him, twisting and writing against the bed once more.

“what?” he snaps, fangs and gums bared in an impatient growl. he’d waited too long to have you spread out beneath him like this, smelt the slick from your heat dripping down your thighs— tasted the want in the air as you tried to fuck that itch away from yourself with stupid toys and your useless hands. “can’t eat yer stupid lil hole out if y’keep makin’ me waste my breath talkin’ to ya, bunny. don’cha want me to make it go away? take away the pain with my fat cock?”

“katsuki please, make it go away, make it stop hurting,”

katsuki’s head dips lower and lower until his nose is pressed right up against your slit, breathing in your sweet scent until his eyes roll back in his skull and his brain becomes cloudy with ideas of how you might fuckin’ taste, how tight you must really fuckin’ be. god, he’d thought about taking your puckered hole for far too long, taking you on his dick until your bunny ears droop and you’re reduced to a puddle of tears. but now that he’s got you, nothing but sex on your mind while you ooze sweet honey from his proximity to your core, all bakugou can think about is lapping you up like the fuckin’ dog he is and slobbering all over the sweetness between your meaty thighs.

“like it when you beg like a little bunny bitch in heat fer my fuckin’ dick babe, but s’too fuckin’ bad. wanna eat ya instead.” bakugou snarls, tail thumping on the bed as he finally latches onto your sex with teeth and tongue and the taste of you on his fucking brain. when he glances up at you between your shaky legs and give another tug to the fluff of your tail, your cute nose twitches and your watery eyes cross— the pain in your belly ignites into a bright flame of pleasure as you finally get what you need for your heat to subside.

katsuki’s tongue runs laps across every inch of your sex, sucking on you, drinking up the evidence of your arousal before it has time to further dirty your thighs— your fingers push through his mass of blonde locks and tug at his puppy dog ears until he whimpers into your hole that he plunges his pink muscle in and out of. “look at’cha bunny, makin’ a mess in that damn deku’s bed. what’s he gonna say when he finds you cummin’ on this tongue of mine, his sweet little bun ain’t so innocent are they?” he teases, fingers coming up to prod and pull and pinch at your slick and intimate parts he also greedily feasts on.

“he—he wouldn’t, katsuki please don’t— oh fuck— i don’t want izu to see me like this,” you blubber with crossed eyes and skittering breath. the dog between your legs slots bites gently at your core, teeth grazing your intimate parts causing you to jump up and tug his hair closer to your needy, trembling body.

“bullshit, needy bitch.”

lewd sounds of your own sloppiness make your ears droop and cover your humiliated face, shame burning at the tips of your ears even worse than the hotness flashing through your body. you’re embarrassed, by your own dirtiness, by your desperation to be fucked by your owners awful companion. would izuku be disappointed in you? see you different from your usually shy and innocent self? you feel so much shame and yet you can’t feel yourself to pull away from the german shepard hybrid between your legs, sucking on you like you’re his last meal.

but you can’t bring yourself to feel shame, the thought of your precious owner walking in on you stretched over katsuki’s tongue and thick fingers— marked up and tainted, makes you gush and squirm. what would you do if his bright green eyes saw the sin his two darling hybrids were committing on his own bed? you’re naughty, bakugou’s made you naughty and that’s exactly what he wanted. to ruin you during your heat.

“you wanna cum, slutty bunny?” his tail thumps harder against the mattress, his hips grinding circles into the bed like his stuck in a rut, his own cock hard and heavy in his shorts while he makes you see stars and feel as if you’re on cloud nine. you nod and a dark chuckle reverberates through your body. “‘s too bad...” katsuki pulls away from you before you can tumble over the edge, sheen of your arousal painted across his chin— shining under dim light.

“k-katsuki?”

like a dirty dog, he wipes his mouth on his arm and smiles, mischief glinting in his eye. your heart rate spikes, nose and precious bunny earth twitching with nervousness and excitement.

“too bad, y’cum while ‘m breeding you on this cock, sort this heat out right.”

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hotwings0203 · 3 years

Note

Meeee. I want a longer version of the voyeur deku and bully kacchan. but in kacchan's pov tho. 💜💜💜👀

My dear anon. You ask and so you shall receive 💓

Pt.1, Pt.2

Tw: implied gangbang, stalking, implied noncon

If there’s one thing Katsuki Bakugo hated more than Deku, it was you.

No, actually, scratch that.

He couldn’t stand you around Deku.

As his childhood friend-or rival, whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, Bakugo knew Deku like the back of his hand.

He knew how he liked his breakfast, eggs runny with cheese and pepper sprinkled in the middle. He knew how crazy he could be as a fanboy for All Might, collecting over 500 antiques of the hero. He knew how he liked spring better because then he could stand under the Sakura trees and close his eyes in bliss while the petals floated softly down on his face.

He knew how he liked to steal your panties and jerk off to them.

He knew that his favorite position to watch him rape you from the front so that he could see every expression while you were filled to the brim with cum.

How the fuck could you be so blind?

Did you not notice the way your undergarments slowly started to vanish, one by one? Did you not realize who’s handwriting it was when you found yet another threatening yet lewd note in your locker? You had to actually be brain dead to not catch on to how he was always the last person out, just to trail behind and watch how your ass swayed when you walked out of the classroom.

But no, apparently you were even more stupid than he thought.

Because instead of correctly matching a face to actions, you thought him, Bakugo fucking Katsuki was the one doing all of this.

He supposed he couldn’t actually hold it against you though. I mean, he was the one slipping a hand up your shirt when you were walking out said door, he was the one who was shoving you against the lockers right when you were about to unlock it and find the notes, and he was the one who tore your panties in two, dangling them in front of your face while you pleaded for him to give it back. He never did, of course, he simply threw them over his shoulder and proceeded dragging you away so he could fuck you in privacy.

But he guesses there wasn’t much privacy if he was being watched all the time.

It was actually pretty typical of Deku. To leech off of what he left behind and try to claim it as his own. First his All Might obsession, then his shoot style, and now you? It’s pathetic, but typical.

He should’ve realized it wasn’t the shadows moving in the corner of his eyes when he was buried to the hilt inside your warmth. When the hairs stood at the back of your neck in the showers, it wasn’t because he was fucking you dumb, it was because someone else’s moans were in synch with his.

But it’s okay, because he knows and you don’t. He knows how the dweeb looks at you, how he sports a tent in his pants when you innocently lay a hand on his shoulder, he knows why your window is broken even though you fell asleep with it intact.

He catches Deku one day. He catches him red handed like the little rat he is.

It was so easy, too, the green haired little shit follows him around like some lovesick puppy anyways. Sometimes he can’t tell if he’s following you or himself.

You walk home from your night classes one evening, when the night is darker than your own shadows and the stars barely dust across the sky. No one else is around, and so you clutch your bag a little more tightly against you whenever you hear a leaf or a start car rustle in the trees surrounding your path back to the dorms.

Bakugo knows your schedule, of course. You take English and Statistics in the morning and save Quirk Training for the evening when you’re the most tired-a stupid plan, in his opinion.

Or at least he thought, at first. Turns out that you’re the easiest to follow when you’re spent and covered in bruises from being thrown against rocks and burned by fire from class. He wishes he could’ve seen you in person when that all happens, but it doesn’t matter when you’re stumbling down the cobblestone path towards your dorm, deaf and blind to any person that might be right behind you.

You just want to go home, he can accept that. Especially when he can so easily trail after you, merely 20 feet away on the same path as you. No one would suspect he’s up to no good from the leisurely way he strolls with his hands in his pockets, and he would bet his entire life that you wouldn’t waste a second to turn around and check your surrounding in favor of hurrying up to your room so you can sleep the aches away.

He might be subtle, but Deku isn’t.

The fucker hides in the bushes and almost crawls like a bug in the foliage after his two favorite people. It’s not even a clever disguise because his hair is three shades lighter than the leaves on the thickets.

Bakugo can hear the twigs snap and rustle as he bumbles around trying to be inconspicuous. He rolls his eyes and turns around, a deep scowl on his face.

“You’re not fooling anyone you bastard. Get the fuck out here right now before I blast you away.”

It doesn’t even take a full three seconds before Deku’s head meekly pops up and he gives a weak smile.

“H-hey Kacchan. Nice to see you here, I just dropped my papers-“

“No you didn’t. How long have you been following us?”

Deku blanches and slowly lifts his eyes to meet Bakugo’s. His mouth might’ve tried to open and refute the accusation, but when he saw the subtle smirk in the latters eye he found himself caring less about being caught.

“Howd you know?”

“You fuckin’ kidding me?” He scoffs and takes a quick glance back at you to ensure that you hadn’t walked too far off. You were still slowly trudging away, an easy distance for him to cross. “You’re about as stealthy as my quirk you freak.”

Deku laughs nervously and scratches the back of his head, also trying to quickly turn his head to see where you are.

“You likin’ the show so far?”

“Huh?” The green haired boy snaps his head back to him, blushing furiously now.

“You heard me. And don’t pretend to be so scandalized, you’re not holier than thou.”

The low voice to an almost predatory tone makes Deku drop the act. He straightens up a bit taller and his eyelids lower, his brows raised in a mocking sneer of some sorts. His lips curl and his teeth gleam in the moonlight, almost looking like fangs.

Bakugo has to remind himself for a moment not to back up a step.

“Yeah, I’m likin’ it.”

“I knew it. I bet you watched us every time we fucked, you bastard. Next time I’ll make you pay for front row seats since that’s where you always seem to be.” He crosses his arms and stares Deku down.

But the other doesn’t cower. Instead, his expression morphs into that of a weird hopeful look.

“I wouldn’t exactly say fucked is the right word. I’d say raped is better, Kacchan.”

It’s the utter confidence and ease in which he says this that makes Bakugo do a double take, his scowl breaking for a moment.

But he regroups. He knew this little shit was weird and fucked up, but he didn’t realize he was twisted beyond repair. In reality, he knew he was actually having sex with you without your full consent but hearing it from a guy like Deku made it so much worse.

It made his heart pound a little faster, while it made Dekus mouth water.

“Yeah? You liked watching me motorboat and fuck her tits? You liked hearing her scream for me, scream to get away from me too?”

And even in the shadows from the trees he can see how hard the degenerate nods his head eagerly like a dog waiting for its bone.

Even though he doesn’t like how the glint in his eyes darken with each vile word coming from his own mouth, he can’t help but go further down this rabbit hole and see how much Deku can take before he snaps-he’s never seen him so hungry for something before, except for when he would be around All Might.

So he eggs him on.

“I bet you got off on watching her struggle underneath me, didn’t you?” It’s less of a question and more of a statement to which Deku confirms.

“I did. I got off so many times I thought I’d have to get it checked out. But honestly, I think you could do better.”

Katsuki wasnt expecting that response.

“Who the fuck are you to-“

“Have you ever really savored the look of fear in her eyes? Have you ever tied her up and really played with her?”

His voice gets stuck in his throat as Deku continues.

“She’s pretty when you fill her up, but I can’t help but wonder..what would she look like with every hole plugged?”

He has no right looking so shy and nervous when such filth leaves his salivating lips. A drop of spit falls to the cobblestone and as Bakugo grimaces and steps back a bit, he realizes that he has not given his childhood rival as much credit for being a creep than he actually is.

“No fucking way. You better not be suggesting you get in on any of this action. She’s fuckin’ mine and I’ll be damned if I have to share her with some useless fuck like you.”

“I promise I won’t be useless, Kacchan. I’ll make sure to keep her moving at all times. She won’t stop bouncing when I’m with her, please, please let me give it a try too.”

And when he doesn’t look convinced, Deku rambles on like a madman. “I’ll even gag her with her own bloodstained panties so that she can shut up and I can focus better. I won’t ask you for her pussy either, I’ll take her ass or throat instead if you want!”

Katsuki wishes he didn’t hear the childhood boyish eager in his voice as he spoke.

He also wishes his dick didn’t get quite so hard when all of that was said.

“God, just shut up already, she’s getting farther now. Okay look, I’ll let you give it a go this one time only so that I can fuck her in peace without you staring at my ass the entire time.”

Dekus eyes light up and he lifts a leg over to step over the hedges. “Really, you mean it? I can fuck her too?”

Bakugo snarls and turns away, heading towards the same path you took. “Whatever, just don’t think this is gonna be a regular kind of thing. I worked hard to get myself a toy and I’ll be damned if you fuck it up for me.”

And when they both join the other towards you, there’s a moment when you glance back that you think the shadow that has been following you this whole time has turned into two.

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voidsbabe · 3 years

Text

After we graduated (2)

Pairing: Stiles x female reader

Characters: Stiles, Lydia

Word count: 1,6k

Warnings: please keep in mind that english isn’t my first language

Masterlist

———————/

Stiles inhales deeply and licks his lips. He looks at this beautiful baby girl and starts to see some similarities between him and Claudia. Claudia has Stiles’s eyes and some of his behaviours.

“Ok little one, It’s getting late and that means you have to go to sleep” says Stiles and takes Claudia in his arms. He goes to her room and lays her down to her bed.

"Can you find my rabbit? I can't sleep without it.” Says Claudia looking at him with exactly like his puppy eyes. Stiles looks around trying to find a little plushy rabbit. Instead of that he notices a picture. He frowns and gets closer to see that one particular photo. A huge smile appears on Stiles’s face. It’s a picture of the whole pack right after graduation which he believes Coach took. He smiles to that memory.

Next to that he notices one pink rabbit.

“Found it sweetie!” Says Stiles and gives it to almost sleeping Claudia. He kisses her on her forehead and leaves her room.

**********

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Says Stiles right after you enter the living room. You frown, not understanding what he means.

“Claudia. Is she my child?” asks Stiles with some frustration in his voice. “Is she mine? Just tell me Y/N!”

“Cool out.” You whisper “you are going to wake up Claudia”.

Stiles’s chest is rising rapidly as he looks at you. He’s breathing faster and faster in anger and frustration.

“So that’s true. She is my child. SHE IS MY CHILD AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME?” yell Stiles.

Claudia comes downstairs and looks at you and Stiles sleepy.

“Mommy, why are you both yelling?” She asks.

You give Stiles a death stare and run to Claudia. You kiss her on the forehead.

“It’s nothing, baby. We are so sorry that we have woken you up. Go to your bed and I will be there in a minute sweetie pie” you say. Your little girl does as you told her and goes back to her bed.

“Look what you have done.” You say angry.

Stiles bites his lips and closes his eyes.

“I can’t do this. I can’t be around you right now.” He says and you can’t help but notice some tears in his eyes as he leaves your house.

You cover your face with your hands and take some deep breaths to calm yourself. You feel your throat slowly tighten. You take one more deep breath and finally go to Claudia’s room. You push her doors just to see your little angel peacefully sleeping holding her pink rabbit. You smile a little. She seems so peaceful and innocent and somehow she’s still a little devil in the morning… just like her father.

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

After a few weeks you finally find courage to call Lydia and tell her everything “Lydia, has Stiles been calling or texting you?” you ask her hoping that Lydia would say yes. Claudia has been asking about Stiles since the next morning when she asked you why you both have been yelling at night and since you can’t lie to her because she’s smart just like her dad, you finally confess the truth crossing your fingers for the good ending and her being understanding even though she’s just a kid and she shouldn’t have been through that.

“I’m sorry Y/N, but no. He hasn’t been talking to anyone after he found out” says Lydia “I’m really sorry that I can’t be there with you and Claudia. How's the little angel holding up since you told her?”

You put your phone on speaker and unpack your groceries.

“Well, she’s been a little quiet since then but I feel like she understands why I haven’t told her nor her dad about everything. She’s just six but you know how smart she can be. I just hope it wouldn’t cause any trauma because I never really wanted that to happen.” You say and sigh loudly. You hear Lydia saying some things about Stiles but you don’t listen to her because of that sudden memory that appears in your head and holds onto you tightly.

“Lydia, I gotta go” you say and hang up.

“OMG Y/N I CAN’T BELIEVE I GOT TO THE FBI'' says Stiles looking at you. “I mean yes I know it would be far away from New York City but we still can be in touch. That's easy. Me, you, Scott, Allison, Lydia and Isaac we would all stay in touch and it would be amazing. We could hang out and do some things and I could tell you about some cases and…” he says out of his breath. You just giggle a little seeing little sparks in his eyes. He is truly happy. You feel tears in your eyes as you watch Stiles calling to Scott to get the whole pack together. You bite your lips and wipes tears away. Even though you are so happy for your friends, all you can feel is fear. You don’t know what the future will look like and how to be a single mom. Yes, you could tell Stiles but it would definitely end everything. He’s so happy and you want him to stay that way after everything that has happened and after the void you can finally see true happiness in his eyes.

You shake your head just like you are trying to get that memory out of your head.

Stiles still hasn’t called even though you left him a couple voicemails hoping that he would listen to all of them and somehow appear in your door ready to listen to you but that didn’t happen. It was all just in your head. Your head was messing up with you and it was slowly killing you. You sigh and sit on the couch trying to distract yourself by watching a stupid movie about some teenagers trying to not to fall in love. You frown a little as you hear the doorbell ringing. You didn’t invite anyone so it seems even weirder to hear your doorbell ring. You get to the doors and open them. You hear your jaw loudly dropping to the ground.

“Stiles” you say still pretty shocked. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see my daughter and you. I got a present for Claudia.” he says and gives you a box of Claudia’s favorite cereal and a big teddy. You thank him and invite him inside.

He kisses you on the cheek and sits on the couch. “Claudia, there’s someone to see you” you yell to get your daughter downstairs. Claudia runs as fast as she can downstairs and freezes in shock. “Daddy!” She screams and runs to hug Stiles. He smiles and takes her to his arms. He gives her a little kiss on the forehead and takes her on his lap.

“I got you something” he says and gives Claudia those presents. “Thank you Daddy” says Claudia and hugs him tightly and then runs to her room to introduce her new teddy to other toys.

“So I am ready to talk. Tell me everything” says Stiles and looks at you. You nod and bite your lips. You take a deep breath fighting some tears that appeared in your eyes. “When I got pregnant I didn’t know what I should do. I felt hopeless and I was so scared because I already knew that I won’t tell you and I know it sounds extremely selfish and you have every right to be mad at me that I haven’t told you, but you did not see yourself. Stiles I love you and after everything that we have been through. Every damn supernatural creature and after the void you seemed so happy that you got to that FBI program and I knew I couldn’t tell you because you would stay and miss that opportunity. I’m so sorry that I made that decision. I know it was irresponsible and selfish and I know that I fucked everything up by telling everyone except you. I’m really sorry” you say with a shaking voice. After that it is silent. You feel your heart beating rapidly as you start bawling your eyes. Stiles gets up and takes you in his arms. He wipes away tears from your face and hugs you. “I’m not mad Y/N. I know that you have made that decision because you had some reasons. I was mad and shocked and frustrated when I found out because I always wanted a kid and you know how much I loved you. How much I still love you. Y/N you are my everything and you will always be. You and Claudia. I love both of you and I’m ready to take every responsibility for my actions and I’m ready to be a dad. I want to be a dad. A good one. And of course I wanna be with you. I never stopped loving you.” he whispers in your ear and leans to kiss you softly. You smile through that kiss and place your hands on his cheeks just to kiss him more passionately.

After you graduated you didn’t know what your life would look like in the next 10 years. You were extremely scared and hopeless. But after all, you got your happy ending with the most precious angel that you could have and the most amazing husband that you have ever dreamed of. You were happy that Stiles found out about Claudia because your life as the whole family just started. In that moment when you said “I do”. It changed everything. Claudia changed everything.

And that’s what happened after we graduated...

———————————/

Hey guys! Thank you for waiting and reading. Reblogs and replies are very appreciated ❤️

Tag list: @cookiecakeslive @alexa-rae-dreamz @loulouloueh @dandelionqueen @marvelsis @drugsandcandy069

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heyyyharry · 4 years

Text

Porn

(a blurb from the My Girl Series)

…in which Harry and Y/N watch porn, but he won’t touch her.

Warning: smut (duh!)

AU: older!harry, actor!harry.

“You can’t go a day without my pussy,” she had said to him after they’d had sex on the kitchen counter. She’d only come in here to get some juice while he was making coffee, and look how she’d ended up, with her panties on the floor, her skirt hiked up to her waist, her chest bare, and his cum slick on her inner thighs.

She didn’t even remember how it’d started.

He stood between her legs, a hand on the countertop on either side of her. A smirk peaked at the corner of his lips as he considered her with squinted eyes. “Is that a challenge?” he asked.

“It’s a fact,” she returned.

She expected him to tease back like he always would, but he only breathed out a soft laugh and pecked her on the cheek. “Get dressed,” he said. “The housekeeper might walk in.”

They spent the rest of the day in two separate rooms. He had a meeting with his dialect coach then locked himself in his library to study and practise his lines. Meanwhile, she did some research for her new book and tried to write as much as she could so her agent would stop bombarding her with phone calls, texts, and emails.

After dinner, he got a zoom meeting with his publicist, so she took a shower first and curled up in their bed, watching a porn movie on the telly while waiting for him.

He came in an hour later, his hair damp, a white towel draped over his shoulder. He cracked an amused half-smile when he saw what she was watching.

“When you said you were doing research, I didn’t expect this,” he said.

“My next book is a Fifty Shades fanfic. Don’t tell anyone.”

A laugh crackled out of him as she placed a finger on her lips to ask him to keep a secret.

When he returned to their bed a moment later and snuggled up against her, his curls were dry and falling into his forehead. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of boxers she’d bought for him last week. She thought he looked extremely sexy this way. Biting her lip, she continued to stare at him, momentarily forgetting what she’d been watching until he asked, “What position is that?”

She whipped her eyes back to the screen and burst out laughing when she saw the couple performing an advanced version of Reverse Cowgirl, in which the guy’s hips weren’t even touching the bed.

“These porn movies are so extravagant,” he commented, now sitting shoulder to shoulder with her. “Who moans like that? Literally no one. The sex scenes I’ve done are way more sensual and convincing.”

She scowled at him, and his mouth curled. “Sorry,” he said though he didn’t seem very sorry.

She smacked him on the arm and picked another movie with more realistic sex. It was fun watching bad porn because they made her laugh more than they got her off. She wished she had stuck with that, because although she was exhausted, the heat between her legs would say otherwise. On the screen, the couple were fucking like rabbits on the sofa. They were more about pleasuring each other than putting on a show, so it was extremely hard to watch without getting turned on.

She rubbed her thighs together and stole a glance at her boyfriend, whose attention was on the movie. He was pinching his lips unconsciously, the thing he did when he was nervous or turned on. Weird. She was sitting right here. If he was hard, why hadn’t he touched her already?

She dropped her head to his shoulder and started tracing the tattoo on his arm, watching goosebumps pimpled his skin. It normally worked. He should have pinned her down on the bed by now. And if he was tired, he would let her sit on his face or let her ride him; Harry never said no to sex.

She would just let this slide if she wasn’t so horny and frustrated and angry. She leaned in closer, intentionally letting her breast brush against his arm. She was only wearing a sheer white babydoll chemise, which she knew he loved. It was astonishing that he hadn’t made any comment about it.

“Baby…”

“Shhh! I'm watching!” He covered her mouth with his hand while his eyes stayed fixed on the screen, his brows drawn together thoughtfully.

Surprised and frustrated, she licked his palm and he immediately shrank back and wiped the saliva onto her thigh.

She batted his hand away, her gaze skipping between him and the screen. “Why are you watching porn like it’s a cinematic masterpiece?” she huffed, tugging at his shirt.

He still didn’t look at her. “You're being disrespectful to these hardworking porn stars."

She crossed her arms over her chest and sunk into the pillow. “Maybe I should become a porn star so you’d pay attention to me."

He said nothing.

"I'm sorry, okay? For whatever I did or said," she said angrily. "Can you stop now?"

Still nothing.

"This is not funny, Harry!”

This time, when he softly shushed her, he placed a hand at the back of her head and stroked her hair like she was a cat. She knew he couldn't stay in character for too long. But this wasn't enough. She wanted all of his attention.

"When I asked you to watch porn with me, I didn't mean to actually watch porn," she said, resting her cheek against his arm.

His eyes suddenly searched her face, the look made her flustered. Arching an eyebrow, he said, "You told me I couldn't go a day without your pussy. It's only been a few hours and you're already asking to get fucked. Make up your mind, Bambi."

She jolted with a start, her mouth fell open. "I said it as a joke!"

He shrugged and turned back to the screen.

She continued to glare at him while he kept a straight face and began to comment as though they were watching a documentary. "Wow, look at that. Remember when I fucked you like that?"

"Arsehole," she muttered as a smirk crept up to his stupid face. She wasn't sure if she wanted to kick him or suck his dick. Maybe both. The moaning and slapping of skin from the video didn't really help in this situation.

Back straightened, she cleared her throat. “So you wouldn’t even touch me if I was naked?”

No answer.

She bit her lip and reached her hand under the cover to feel his dick over his boxers. He showed no emotions, still playing this game, but from the way he gulped, she knew he was destined to lose.

"You're hard."

"Great observation," he said smugly. "As you can see, I'm watching porn."

"Well, I'm wet," she whispered seductively despite his indifference. "And I hate to fuck myself right here right now because my boyfriend's a dick and he's ignoring me."

When he didn’t respond, she exhaled sharply and pushed his legs apart to sit between them, leaning against his chest. He let her do as she pleased but didn’t touch her. His hands remained on his thighs, his eyes fixed on the telly. When she pulled the chemise over her head and sat completely naked between his legs, he grabbed her hips only to push her to the side so he could continue watching. She stubbornly leaned left and right to block his view until his indifference got on her nerves.

She spread her thighs, draping each of her legs over his, her head tipped back on his shoulder as she moved her hand under the duvet and started touching herself.

At first, she only wanted to mess with him, but somehow this situation turned her on. She was gasping into the crook of his neck with two fingers curled inside of her. He hadn’t made a sound. She didn’t look up to check if he was watching her getting herself off, but from the way his palm twitched before he squeezed his own thigh, she knew he was going to give in one way or another.

She moaned louder, her free arm curled around his neck, her face pressed into his hot skin as she nipped the sweet spot below his ear. If he wasn’t going to touch her, she was going to touch him and drive him crazy until he lost it and had to fuck her. She knew how to play this game. And he was already hard, his cock poking at her lower back.

Eventually, he gave in. Not entirely, but he couldn’t keep his hands off hers any longer. He started by stroking her legs. She’d been craving for his touch, so just the warmth of his hands could make her flinch and pant heavily. He shushed her, his mouth at her ear. She could smell the champagne in his breath which turned her on even more. She was pretty sure the noises she made had drowned out the porn playing in the background.

“Slow down. Do not come yet,” he whispered into her ear. She shivered, biting her lip and giving a nod. “Look at you, Bambi.” She could feel a smirk in his dark tone. “Is this how good girls should behave?”

“You...were naughty first,” she argued, her lashes fluttering. The couple on the screen was doing missionary now. The girl was wailing as she came. Harry didn’t allow her to cum, so she had to chew on her lip and fight the urge to rub her clit.

“Why?” he asked in a fake concerning tone. “Because I didn’t pay attention to you? You couldn’t have my attention so you decided to misbehave?”

“You’re a dick,” she gasped. His faint laugh made her stomach clench and her walls close around her fingers.

“That’s not how you call me, love.”

Slowly, his hand made its way up up to her slick inner thigh and then he placed his palm on her lower stomach, not touching her where she wanted him to. Her breath caught as he grabbed a handful of her breast and started toying with her nipple.

His other hand curled under her thigh, spreading it to give her more access so she could do the work on her own.

She hated him. She loved him. She wanted him.

“Eyes on the screen,” he commanded, cupping her chin gently and tilting her head upward, his lips hot against her ear. “Remember when I fucked you like that?” he asked. “Just this morning. In this bed.” The girl on the screen was lying on her stomach, arse up, as the guy held her wrists together at her back and slammed into her mercilessly.

“Yes…”

Harry chuckled. He knew how good it’d felt for her. She’d bit onto the sheet when she came, wetting his dick. The memory worked better than the actual scene before her eyes. She arched her back and pumped her fingers faster, stroking her clit with her free hand.

“Stop,” he said roughly, but she didn’t listen. She fucked herself hard and cried into his neck. His breathing came ragged. She knew he was frustrated and annoyed. A triumph grin spread across her face, then she came hard, gasping his name, his massive hand squeezed her hip as he buried his face into her neck, groaning loudly as if he could feel it, too. His chest rose and fell unsteadily against her. His cock jerked at her lower back.

She didn’t have the strength to deny him for denying her. Now that she’d made herself cum, she only wanted him more. They both knew it never finished without his cum dripping out of her.

“You okay?”

She heard his raspy voice and tipped her head back to look up. His face was right above hers, his lips parted, ghosting over hers. His cheeks were flushed, and he was taking short breaths. He grasped her wrist and pulled her fingers out of her sensitive cunt. She watched him intensely as he brought her hand to his mouth and sucked and licked her two fingers clean while holding her gaze.

She couldn’t help it anymore. She cupped his cheek and pressed her lips to his, her mouth opened, her tongue sliding against his, heat pooling between her legs as if she hadn’t just cum a minute ago. He only broke the kiss to pull his shirt over his head, and she wasted no time to free his cock from his boxers. He was leaking precum and it made her mouth water. She wanted to taste it. Suddenly, he grabbed her by the hips and lifted her off him.

“On your stomach,” he demanded.

She shook her head wordlessly and reached for his cock. He quickly caught her wrists and tugged her up so they were face to face. “Not now.”

“But I want–”

“I’d cum if you put your mouth on me, Bambi,” he rasped, sounding almost helpless.

She clenched at the words and nodded as she scooted toward him on her knees, hands on his shoulders. “Let me ride you. I wanna see your face.”

His laugh turned into an exaggerated, ‘aww’ that made her want to punch him. Instead, she shoved at his chest and he dropped onto his back, hands on her knees as she straddled his thighs. She reached out and grasped his cock, stroking him just once, just to spread her wetness over him.

“Am I a good girl now?” she asked, her head cocked to the side.

“I don’t know. Show me,” he replied with a smirk.

She hitched herself up over his lap and slid down onto his cock, so suddenly that he jolted and dug his fingers into her bum. She rode him hard, holding his gaze. The way he grinned with his mouth open made her moan and squeeze around him. She hated how she was the one riding him but he still managed to have the upper hand.

He let her have her fun for a moment before grasping her bum and thrusting into her hard and fast. She cried out and fell onto his chest, their mouths meeting with more sloppy kisses.

“You like this, huh?” he panted into her ear, her fingers digging into his shoulders as an answer while he fucked into her, taking full control now. She nodded wildly before propping herself back up with her palms on his chest. Seeing the ink on his torso glistening with sweat made her stomach flip and her knees go numb. He circled his arm around her waist and hitched her up, drawing a gasp out of her before his mouth was on her throat as he pumped her on his dick.

“Yes, Daddy, yes.”

He didn’t stop, but his hips faltered for a second.

“What was that?” he asked, dropping his head to suck one of her nipples into his mouth. She could tell he’d been wanting to do this all night. She gasped and clenched around him. She had really sensitive nipples and he adored them.

“Daddy,” she whimpered, rolling her hips. He met her pleading stare and groaned. He knew she was close.

He sighed against her lips but didn’t object when she got one hand between them, two fingers on her clit, rubbing hard the way he would. He loved to make her cum but he also loved watching her touch herself.

She came first, stars exploding behind her eyelids as he fucked her through it and cum inside her, hips jerking up off the bed. Curses spilled from his lips and her own as they both collapsed, her on top of him, his arms tightened around her waist.

She was pretty sure she’d passed out for a second or two until she felt the warmth of his hands against the cool skin of her exposed back. She opened her eyes, cheek resting against his chest as her eyes searched his face. His cheeks dimpled as their eyes locked.

“You’re so spoiled now. Always getting your way,” he said, breathless.

She propped her head up and pouted. “You have to let me win because you’re older. That’s the rule.”

He contemplated her face with an arched eyebrow. “So I have to let you win because I’m older, but I’m not allowed to call you a child when you act like one?”

“Correct.” She nodded and combed her fingers through his hair, pushing his sweaty curls out of his forehead. “I need you to include that in your wedding vows.”

“My wedding vows,” he echoed, his mouth curled.

“Only if I say yes, though,” she clarified, lifting her chin.

“Only if I ask,” he smugly replied.

She glared at him before leaning down and kissing him again. Suddenly, he pushed her away, fingers still in her hair but his eyes were on the telly. “Look, Bambi.”

“What?” She whipped her head around, slightly annoyed by the interruption.

He chuckled softly. “They’re still going at it.”

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #harry styles falling #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #my girl blurb #my girl series #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n

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fluffi · 3 years

Text

MY DETENTION BUDDY :: JAY

pairing: jay x gn!reader genre: fluff, badboy!jay, highschool!au, friends-enemies-lovers!au word count: 2k event: for @lovesick-net and (early) jay day 200421 <3 author’s note: simple little one-shot for jay’s birthday (i wont be uploading anything for his actual birthday). i had to speedrun this fic because i kept changing the plot and this hasnt been proofread twice (unlike my other fics) T-T i hope it’ll still work out. warnings: (reader makes one bad decision)

Ring...ring...ring...ring..ring…

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring

Ringringringringiringringringring.

RIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRRI-SLAM!

The alarm clock stopped its boisterous wailing

10 more minutes. I don’t have to style my hair today.

Thirty minutes passed.

RIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRI- SLAM!

Ugh. I’ll just miss assembly.

RIRIRIIRRIRIRI-

This time, the ringing stopped before he could slam his hand over the alarm clock.

“Jongseong, do you not have school today?” Jay could only make out a bush of black that stood above him as he sat up, dazed and drowsy.

“Yeah, I do. I’m about to get ready. Why?”

“It’s 9 am! You should be at school! At this point, you don’t even have to go anymore.” His mother huffed in disappointment.

It was an exaggeration, but she had a point. School started at eight in the morning. It was already an hour later but he was still sitting in bed.

“I’ll get ready now. 10 minutes. Good to go.” He shooed his mom away, already running to the bathroom to wash up.

“I’m leaving now Jay. You know darn well that I have an important meeting today and I can’t miss it just for you to not get a tardy. Heck, you’re already late! You’re-”

“Mom! I can’t walk to school! It takes too long.” Jay whined as he brushed his teeth, his muffled voice interrupting his mother’s speech.

“Young man, stop interrupting me. I told you a week ago about today’s event and it’s not my fault that my oldest son can’t take care of himself. You’re going to have to take another mode of transport, you’re old enough to deal with this yourself!” With that, his mother stormed out of his room, her feet obnoxiously thumping on the floor.

“I’m also your only son...” Jay muttered.

Of all days, why did she have to have her meeting today? Monthly evaluations aren’t that important. Dangit, I should’ve been taught how to drive. Jay returned to his rapid multitasking, grabbing his school uniform while washing his face. He didn’t even look twice,

After taking the quickest shower he had ever taken in his entire life and shoving all of his essential (what he determined as essential, at least) belongings into his bag, he opened to door and dashed outside only to be met with…

Rain.

Rain everywhere. Drenching the front yard’s perfectly tended flower garden and creating heaps of watery mud. It was pouring at 9.15 am. There was thunder and occasional flashes of light zooming through the clouds. The city was in shambles.

Not like, shamble, shambles. It was shambles in Jay’s opinion as he groaned and stomped his way through the rain.

Screw school. Screw this stupid rain, screw my alarm clock, screw this-

“Dude, why are you running in the rain? You’re soaked. Are you heading to school?” A pink-haired boy in a red Ferrari shouted from across the street.

Jay sighed in relief, immediately running across the road to said Ferrari. “Choi Yeonjun. You are a life-saver. Could I get a ride real quick? I’ll pay back for engine fees and for soaking the inside of your Ferrari with rainwater.”

“Hop right in, and don’t worry about returning. Let’s have some fun with this baby.” Yeonjun smirked and revved the engine, swerving past cars and buildings like it was a little RPG game.

At this rate, I’ll make it to school in no time.

“Dude, I’m so sorry. I guess you have to walk.”

Just as he thought things were taking a better turn, Yeonjun decides to show off his new driving skills and zooms through roads at a rapid speed, so fast that he crashed the car by a tree. It was a miracle that both of them didn’t get hurt but as far as Jay was concerned, he could worry about that some other time. This was just slowing him down on his long and tedious journey towards his form of hell.

On the bright side, the rain had stopped and the sunshine was back as if nothing had happened.

“I’ll get going to school.” Jay internally groaned and started sprinting in the direction of his school.

“Hey, at least I helped you get closer to school! Didn’t I?” Yeonjun shouted from behind and coyly smiled.

Such a boastful punk, Jay thought. “Whatever, bro!” He turned back and gave his older friend a quick wave before dashing off.

“Park Jongseong! You’re late...again.”

“I’m aware.” Jay didn’t spare his English teacher an eye and slung his backpack over the chair, about to take a seat.

“Stop giving me attitude, I’m your teacher.Why are you tardy for the fourth time this month?”

“Alarm clock.”

“Alarm clock what? Are you afraid to speak up? I don’t see you acting like this in the hallways.”

Jay looked down at his feet and sighed before side-eyeing his teacher. “Overslept, okay? Sir if you could just let me off the hook you would be able to proceed with your Shakespeare nonsense.”

The entire class snickered. It was no secret that Jay loathed Mr. Jung, the English teacher. Who didn’t? Mr. Jung treated every student in school like they were incapable toddlers and it was a wonder that anyone would dare to stand up to his stupid remarks. Jay’s carefree attitude towards his horrible teachers was one of the reasons why he earned so many fangirls.

Not like you were one, of course. You watched as he pulled his chair out and sat next to you out of the three other vacant seats at the back of the class.

Mr. Jung rolled his eyes and continued writing on the blackboard. “Also, Jongseong,” he added, “you’re wearing your school shirt the wrong way round. See you in detention for your tardiness.”

A few of the girls in a few seats in front of him whispered rapidly, although whispering didn’t stop Jay from finding out about their gossip.

“Lol! So much for being the bad boy of our grade. He looks like a wreck today.”

“I know right? I wonder what the other fangirls will think of this. Should we send the pictures to the fan club?”

The second girl giggled. “Yeah, duh. Name it jay-park-wreck-images.”

So much for my reputation. Jay could only roll his eyes as he pulled out his supplies, ignoring the camera clicks coming from the seats in front of him.

“Oh, yay. At least I’ll have a detention buddy now.”

Jay eyed you up and down like your statement was some sort of monstrosity. “Detention? You, detention? Pfft.” He laughed.

“Yeah, Jay. Me, detention. Why are you so happy about it? Glad to be stuck with another girl?”

“What, no-no. You just...don’t seem like the type to be in detention. How’d you get it?”

“This..may be kind of embarrassing, but...” You turned to the side and Jay gasped.

On the sleeve of your uniform was a...rabbit? It wasn’t too obvious as to what the marker doodle was but it was apparent that you had intentionally spent time to draw on it.

“Look, I was bored in assembly this morning and found a spare marker in my pocket! Don’t judge, we all know how bad assembly can be.” You blurted just as Jay was about to ask why you had done what you did.

“You could’ve just drawn on your hand or done something else with the marker.” Jay sighed and shook his head at your dumb decision.

“I was out of my mind, okay? Ugh, Assembly always drives me nuts. I got called out for for the horrendous ink bleed when Mr. Jung saw as I walked into the classroom. He said it ‘didn’t follow school guidelines’.”

“For once, I agree with Mr. Jung. It was a stupid choice, you know? If you didn’t draw on your uniform then you wouldn’t have to go to detention now.”

“Jay Park, the bad boy of school, is telling me to be a rule abider. Biggest twist of the century.” You rolled your eyes.

Jay frowned and turned back at you, losing that little spark in his eyes that he once kept. “I’m not a bad boy you know? I just don’t like the system in place here.”

“As if anyone is going to believe that. Go hang out with another girl of yours. I’m not here to be your toy.”

“People like you are the reason why everyone thinks I’m a bad person. I thought you were different, you know?”

You had been preoccupied with taking notes for class, but now you looked at him with squinted eyes. “Well, I am different. Different as In someone who doesn’t fall for your useless charms. Go suck up to your fangirls or something.”

Jay rolled his eyes and scooted away from you. He thought he had been lucky to meet you, but he guessed not.

You always do this, you idiot. You were so close to making a new friend.

You put your hands in your head and side-eyed Jay, who seemed to be struggling as Mr. Jung blurted out an entire unit’s summary.

The boy hadn’t brought any stationery and was definitely on the wrong page of the textbook. You figured that he was this disheveled from his absolute lack of planning but you still felt bad.

His hair was a mess, it was still damp from the rain before. If only you could help him style it…

Why do I want to touch his hair? That’s weird and gross.

You were so occupied with thinking about Jay that you realized that he was still struggling in class.

Maybe you could make things better.

“I’m sorry.”

Jay was struggling to find the page you guys were on for class when a pencil blocked his view.

“What do you want?” He said as he tried to look past your pencil swinging.

“It’s a pencil for you since I realized that your table is practically empty and you’re going to need something to take notes with for later. Also, it’s page 153, not 53.” You leaned over to help him flip the pages.

“Oh, that makes so much more sense. I was wondering why we were relearning unit 3 when finals aren’t even near yet.”

You raised your eyebrows, looking up at a relieved Jay. “So you do pay attention in class.”

“Of course I do! I’m a student. You should stop using that stereotype on me.” Jay frowned and a tinge of disappointment shadowed his face.

“Right, I know. I’m sorry. I’m trying to work on it, it’s rumors and assumptions that have built up over the past few years and I understand that it shouldn’t get in the way of our friendship.”

“Friendship? We have a friendship?” Jay chuckled and cocked an eyebrow up, teasing you.

Maybe it was that eyebrow slit or the weird tension that was building up between the both of you. You felt your face heat up. “I mean- yeah, friendship. Are we not friends?”

“I don’t know, hun. I thought we were something more.”

“Um...best...friends?”

It was perfect timing as the bell rang and you immediately started packing things into your bag, eyes glued to the clock instead of the amused boy next to you.

Jay laughed, running his hands through his blonde locks and watching as you started running out of class, your eyes occasionally looking back at him to see if he was still staring at you.

“See you in detention!” He called, drawing the attention of your classmates.

Jay Park needs to learn how to shut his mouth. Everyone was now staring at you and you were flustered, embarrassed, shocked, and confused. The weird mix of emotions were driving you nuts. All you could muster was a little nod and you dashed out of there as fast as you could.

“Today we’re going to learn about Murphy’s Law. It is where anything that can go wrong will go wrong.”

“But everything that can work, will work.” Jay raised his hand and added, sparing a glance at you jotting notes in the back of the classroom, oblivious to his reference towards you.

“You’re right Jay. Murphy’s Law works both ways. Reversing it is considered part of science…”

Today morning was a storm (figuratively and literally) and everything seemed to be going wrong for Jay. Murphy’s Law prevails. but there’s always a rainbow after the storm. You were his rainbow and his lucky charm.

2021 © fluffi

141 notes · View notes

todoscript · 4 years

Text

Love Capsule

anonymous requested: Can I request a Bakugou scenario where the reader and the Bakusquad drag him out on a shopping trip and they see a whole section of vending machines and decide to check them out to see what cute, tasty or weird things they can find and the reader and Bakugou either get lost/ditched or squeezed together in a tight row but they have a good time and maybe the reader got a rare all might mysery figure and Bakugou wants it, so they they he can have it in exchange for a date?

genre: fluff pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader word count: 4.8k+ warnings: bakusquad shenanigans. bakugou cursing. pining.

author’s note: My Bakugou angst fic isn’t done yet but I wrote this request on the side. I wanted to have something to publish after not posting any written work for awhile so I did my best to get this out asap. sorry if it seems rushed! (also reposting this because the post stopped showing up in the tags).

There are only a fair bit of things Bakugou loathes more than wasting his valuable time. And that includes wasting that time by getting dragged into public places he has no desire to be, alongside the four most senseless nitwits the boy has ever had the displeasure of befriending.

It feels less like a friend group to him and more of a gathering of idiots as he watches four out of the six huddle around the aisle of vending machines across the mall. Where’s the other one, you might ask? You’re standing right next to him, sipping a bottle of sweet lemon tea dispensed to you from those vending machines.

“Ooh, look at this one!” The other girl in his squad, styling unruly pink hair, pokes a finger toward a blue machine in particular. What she finds interesting about it is that it’s absent of all buttons except a single one above the coin slot.

“Says here that you only have to pay a hundred yen for a mystery item,” Sero reads the instructions printed boldly across the surface, his grin showing his pearly whites. “Can range from food to even toys and cheap plastic jewelry.”

Popping up behind his taller friend, Kaminari squints incredulously at the sign before his eyes brighten like he’s concocted a conspiracy. “No, dude, I’ve heard of these kinds of vending machines before! They want you to think it’s some ordinary convenience vending machine, but these things actually have some super-secret big prize hidden inside!”

“Uh, no, that’s how you get your money robbed from you, Kaminari,” Kirishima tells the blonde, and yet his warnings end up floating from one ear and flying out the other. Kaminari fishes out a small stash of coins taut in between the lint balls of his pockets.

“Yeah yeah, just wait until you eat those words when I come home with a Playstation 5!”

“Why would there be a Playstation 5 of all things in there?” Ashido asks skeptically. She notes the small slot near the bottom, appearing sizable to dispense a large water bottle at most.

“Okay, maybe not an actual PS5, but probably the voucher you take to the game store to retrieve one, of course!” He waves the doubt away as he kneels and begins his succession of slotting coins in the machine until agitation eventually ebbs his features. About five hundred yen down the drain and all he’s amounted with in exchange are two Gudetama keychains, two packets of off-brand oreo cookies, and one can of that cheap instant black coffee he dislikes. Though if it’s one thing, he and the drink have in common it’s that they’re both positively bitter.

Kirishima, Sero, and Ashido all snicker wryly behind him while he deadpans at the snotty series of prizes with the skin between his eyebrows crinkled in defeat. Ashido takes this as the time to move along the row, dragging her sullen blond friend by the elbow. “Moving on! I want to get to the one with the Yakult drinks already!” She points onward and leads her compadres down the treasure trove of intriguing automated food vendors. Two of the boys press forward enthusiastically. Kaminari has to be lugged out of his brooding in order to play along.

“God, please just take me out already,” Bakugou mutters while leering his signature miffed face behind them. According to the giggle he registers chiming to his left, it seems you heard his complaints.

“Hm, not having a good time, I’m guessing?” you ask. The metallic edge of your lemon tea creases into the cushion that is your plush bottom lip. Bakugou finds himself staring there longer than he should and immediately tears his eyes away before he’s caught.

Your playful tone throws him off a beat later than he should’ve taken to reply. “Of course. I didn’t even want to be here to begin with,” he sneers with a brisk click of his tongue, crossing his arms. In a sense, he’s only telling half of the truth.

It’s true Bakugou did not desire to be here on his own accord. The squad dared to call him at the dead of midnight, when he was already tucked into bed by nine o’clock sharp and indulging in a needed rest, only to be ruefully awoken by his phone blaring across the expanse of his dorm room. The four should’ve suffered an earful from him as they tried to arrange a shopping trip of all things at that hour. However, his disinterest in the subject withered at the bait of your name casted into the conversation. Which to them was hook, line, and sinker. The cunning group of friends reeled him in at the idea that his crush would tag along. So, in the end, they got the rowdy blond to yield to the stupid shopping trip.

Though could it count as a shopping trip when four out of the six in their group were so transfixed by the weird vending machines in the place? The same four that organized said gathering to begin with? They’ve yet to cross into a single store here for crying out loud.

“If all you morons are gonna do is waste your damn money on these things, then this is a complete waste of time.” Bakugou doesn’t sugarcoat his irritation in the slightest. You still try to quell the bitterness in his tone with the saccharine that saturates your own.

“Aw c’mon, Bakugou, lighten up,” you tease playfully, pinching a small bit of the fabric on his arm to lightly urge him forward.

“You should at least try and join in on the fun with everyone—” At the turn of your head, your sentence cuts off, astonished to come across an empty space where your quartet of friends should be.

“And they’re already gone…” you say in disbelief. Your finger initially pointed in that direction falls limp. With their speedy curiosity plowing down the line of machines, the four have effectively ditched you two, leaving no trace of where they could’ve taken off for next.

The sigh from your lips lingers in amusement. “Well, guess it’s just you and me, Bakugou.”

When your eyes meet him again, you witness the scowl he glares at the abandoned space in front of the vending machine. The leer is menacing enough that if the contraption were an actual person, they might have rattled in fear, dropping down the snacks and drinks contained inside to sate his anger.

“Um, Bakugou?” you attempt to call out to him, but he’s too fixated by the peeved thoughts strewn in his head to hear you properly.

What the fuck are those dunces thinking? They planned this, didn’t they? God, I’m going to fucking kill them all! He babbles a seething torrent in his mind. Each one is more unrelenting and harsher than the last while a vein blisters prominently on his forehead.

What were the odds that going on a little shopping trip would end up with him left behind with his crush? Well, Bakugou thinks it’s absolutely none, and that this shit had to be preordained. If not, then it was just his bad fucking luck he supposes.

“—llo, earth to Bakugou Katsuki? Please send back a reply when you receive this message.”

At last, your voice surfaces, no longer drowned in Bakugou’s turbulent sea of thoughts as the hand you wave in front of him swims its way to his attention. “Huh?” He shakes his head twice to grip himself back to the matter at hand, observing in time the playful smile that curls mischievously on your lips.

“All back together I see. Good.” You start pulling on his arm and lead him in tandem with your steps. “Now let’s get going!”

Though he quirks up an eyebrow, Bakugou, weirdly enough, does not reject the way you drag him along without waiting for his response. In fact, with the other four gone, he finds it compelling that you’re taking the reins and asks mildly, “What? Are we gonna be doing some actual shopping now?”

His joke earns him your laughter resonating in melodic lilts to his ears before you leave his side to toss your empty bottle into the recycling bin. “Nope, we’re gonna be doing something even more fun, of course!” Then you resume dragging Bakugou down the walkways of the mall.

It’s not long until he questions the consecutive twists and turns he’s forced to take, having only been answered by your pursed grin multiple times.

“Hey, no more questions! Just trust me!” you quip at his refusal to be quiet and just obediently follow. The blonde can’t help it, of course, given the circumstances he’s wound himself in. Not many boys his age can control themselves if the person they like is pulling them along with as much enthusiasm as you are right now. But Bakugou is different from those other simpletons, crafting a mask to cover the elation hidden beneath with usual displeasure. Nothing but his uncharacteristic lack of annoyance and the ample glances in your direction could truly give himself away to his affections for you.

So with that, he places a generous amount of hope that you guide him somewhere more entertaining than that borefest he witnessed from the squad earlier.

But the moment you two reach your destination, he wonders if he may have accidentally misplaced that same hope down a rabbit hole instead.

“What the…” Bakugou’s words drift in the air at the quizzical sight before him. Mouth hanging open, he’s unable to conjure any sensible thoughts in time before you step in front of him.

“Tada! The Capsule Toy Gacha Room!” You spread your hands outward to present him an unhindered view of the room. It’s teeming with small capsule toy machines that line the walls, stacked on top of each other not to waste a single space inside. His red eyes squint at the assortment of bright colors painted on each machine that assaults his vision.

“Why the hell are there so many of these things?” Bakugou asks, jabbing a finger at the machines. You reply as you walk inside, “It’s the Gacha Room, Bakugou. Of course this place is gonna be filled with them.” You impart him an answer he is not at all satisfied with.

“I used to come here all the time when I was a kid! Glad it hasn’t really changed,” you say, noting the only real difference between then and now were the new toys and characters updated with the current trends. He begrudgingly trails behind you into the narrow corridors sandwiched with the machines on each side. The modest little tune you hum between your lips is a stark contrast to his disgruntled huffs accompanying his dragging feet.

Bakugou thinks being here is not any different from what the other four are frolicking about outside. This might be the worse alternative, considering you give money to a machine that grants you an item at complete random. You have no way of knowing what or who you’re going to get until the colorful sphere pops out at the bottom. And then, in an instance, your anticipation fades away when you open it and receive the character no one particularly cares about—the little charm inevitably gathering dust, forgotten in the drawers of your desk. Overall, these toy capsule machines were just gluttons devouring the money of parents whose kids always whine about never getting what they wanted.

Still, because it’s you, he stays and watches you indulge in your little nostalgia trip.

As your eyes glide down the row of toy dispensers, trying your best to decipher the items contained behind the blurry glass, you chime in, “Say, Bakugou, don’t you have any memories of gacha machines?”

Bakugou’s brows furrow in contemplation. He racks through the nooks and crannies between the crevices of his mind and recalls some standout memories. “I guess. Few of ’em were stuck in front of the arcade place near my neighborhood,” he answers, but those memories immediately begin to sour the more he looks into the details.

You don’t see how his face slowly contorts with annoyance while he plays back a scene in his head.

At the time, Bakugou had only sprouted to the young age of five years old. He’s huddled around his posse in front of the arcade he mentioned, slotting a coin inside the capsule machine that was stocked full of charms of Pro Heroes, which housed a very special limited edition prize of All Might to honor their collaboration with the famous Number One of Japan.

The boy was positively giddy at what was to come out, remaining hopeful thanks to the giant poster of All Might gazing down upon him with his triumphant grin. Yet even when his squeaky little voice hollered out a “Plus Ultra!” to reinforce his luck, he was given dirt in response.

But you know who did get that mystery All Might prize?

Deku. Fucking Deku.

Right after he had his spin of the machine, the green-haired boy stepped up, gave it a go, and got All Might on his first fucking try. To say five-year-old Bakugou was bitter would only be putting it mildly. The unbridled emotions bundled in his tiny body were just waiting to burst in an explosion.

But in the end, did he fight Midoriya for it? No, he did not. For if he did, his mother would have scolded the hell out of him, and his young self reflected in the moment that avoiding parental wrath outweighed the limited edition Mystery All Might figure charm, as sad as that sounded. So since then, he’s tried to repress that memory in the far corners of his mind.

But it seems God just desires to spite him.

“Hey, look!” You pull lightly on his shirt to capture his attention, eyes trained forward at whatever piqued your interest. Bakugou peeks over your head, and what he’s met with does not please him.

“They have a gacha machine featuring Pro Heroes here!” you shout cheerfully, walking toward it with the hem of Bakugou’s shirt in hand, who begrudgingly follows along despite a groan nearly leaving his mouth.

“Isn’t this cool?” you ask. You squat down to peer into the peculiar machine located at the very bottom of the stack. Bakugou clicks his tongue as part of his reply, hands buried in the pockets of his trousers.

“No.”

“Hey, one day they’ll be making toys and charms of you as well, Mister ‘I’m Gonna Be The Number One Hero,’” you say with a giggle, and your comment sparks a bit of pink to dust his cheeks while he looks down at you from his standing position.

He attempts to join you and your fixation on the Pro Hero capsule machine. However, when he starts bending his knees, he finds this to be a bit difficult. The more he squats down, the more Bakugou realizes they truly made this place for children and not bulky teenagers like him training in hero school. His knees and bottoms almost brush up against the plastic sheen of the machines on each opposing side.

Though he has to fidget into a particular position to get somewhat comfortable, he eventually gets there and kneels next to you.

“Why don’t we give a go at this thing?” you suggest, and he tilts his head, eyes narrowed.

“No way, these are a fucking waste of money,” he rejects.

“Hey it only costs two hundred yen!” you counter, “And plus, you might get a certain hero you want, like say... All Might?” You attempt to lure him in using his idol’s very name, but Bakugou doesn’t take the bait so easily and remains rigid in his stance.

Even if he did want to try for All Might, he’s sure his capsule is long gone by now anyway.

“Aw c’mon, Bakugou, pleaseee?” you draw out your pleas in a cute little tone that takes the blond by complete surprise. Unaware of how much power you have over him, the doe eyes and pout that paint your features make it difficult for him to maintain his hardened facade. Feeling his walls begin to melt away at the endearing sight, he ultimately grits his teeth, eyes shut as his hands rummage down into his pockets.

“Fine,” he mutters in defeat, and that smile appears on your lips once again as you lift your arms in triumph.

Pulling out two separate hundred yen coins, he promptly slides them both into the coin silt. When he hears them clank against the other change inside, he goes for the handle and gives it a quick turn. One of the capsule balls begins its journey down the machine and quickly arrives at the hatch that Bakugou lifts to retrieve his prize.

Snapping the capsule open, he’s met with Endeavor’s ugly mug, seeming even more unsightly from the low-quality production of the charm. The paint job is beyond sloppy, with the colors on the costume not depicted accurately and the figure’s pupils drawn to make him appear cross-eyed.

“Hm, you got the number one hero,” you tease, lightheartedly nudging your elbow at his sides because you know full well it isn’t the number one hero he wanted. Bakugou ignores your taunts and shoves the flame hero’s plastic face down the depths of his pockets, making sure to give it to Todoroki later just to annoy him.

“Yeah yeah, your turn, princess.” He scooches a bit to his right to let you have your go. You gladly follow, taking out the two hundred yen from your money pouch.

Bakugou remains disinterested throughout the entire process but is still attentive enough to observe how you hum those casual tunes of yours despite doing something so mundane. He also starts absorbing the cute shape of your nose and the outline of your lips from this angle. It isn’t long until he realizes how close you are in this position, to the point where he could practically smell your fragrant scent, and soon that pink hue diffuses on his face again.

Fuck, I need to stop that, he urges.

By the time he turns away, the capsule machine has begun its machinations once again.

The sizable sphere descending the hatch this time has striped patterns of red, yellow, and blue, colors that remind him all too much of a certain Pro Hero— Wait. What the fuck—

“This one looks a bit bigger than the others, don’t you think? Wonder what... Oh, hey, it’s All Might!” You go through the emotions—curiosity, anticipation, and then finally, glee.

Bakugou feels like he’s reliving those horrible memories once again as he beholds the shiny, miniature figure nestling in your palms before you lift it to grant a better view of its glory. It twists around from how you pinch it by the attached string while it’s hovering in the air. When the Pro Hero’s face turns in the blond’s direction, it’s like the inanimate object is somehow taunting him.

Compared to Endeavor’s shitty charm, All Might’s is a proper representation of who he is. The better quality plastic molded accurately into the man’s figure, the crevices between his muscles delved into displaying his well-defined physique. The colors on his costume are all correctly painted in his signature red, white, yellow, and blue. They even got the broad grin and shadowy features on his face to the tee.

Whichever company created this toy indeed did All Might justice because it looks exactly like the one Midoriya unsealed right in front of his envious five-year-old eyes.

Bakugou’s body shakes with suppressed anger. His hands clench and then unclench themselves while in conflict with his thoughts. Then, he suddenly moves toward you, darting for the charm that you narrowly pull out from his grapples in time.

“L-Lemme see!” he demands, shifting his hand around to grab hold of it for some reason. The act has you befuddled while you continue to move the toy away to evade capture.

“Huh? Why?”

“I need... to fucking make sure— OOF—”

His sputters are the last things that escape his lips before he staggers off balance due to all those hasty movements. It sends his body toppling over yours onto the floor, where your head would’ve thumped against the hard ground had the boy’s well-trained instincts not maneuvered a hand beneath it in time to cushion your fall.

Your descent to the floor is not at all graceful, wincing slightly at the impact. It’s when the pain ebbs away that you and Bakugou finally realize the very awkward position you’re suddenly both in.

Bakugou is hovering over you, body between your legs as one of his hands is cradling your head. The other is situated next to your face against the ground to keep himself upright, letting his eyes stare down at your stricken expression.

Unknowingly, you had settled your hand on Bakugou’s shoulder out of impulse during fall. The other one is still grasping the All Might figure, which is unharmed despite the abrupt movements.

Bakugou can feel your even breaths caress his lips from how close in proximity both of your faces are in this position. If any of you so much as move the wrong way, your lips would undoubtedly collide into each other. Though Bakugou doesn’t mind the notion, he isn’t going to instigate it if you aren’t willing. But the way your eyes line toward his lips, giving him a similar enamored look to the one he has right now, it seems both of you are on the same page.

Taking your mutual fixations as the sign to continue, Bakugou draws himself forward to close the distance while you rise to meet him in the middle.

And finally, he gets to kiss those lips of yours. The lips that adorn your cute face he always snuck glances at. The lips so unhinged in their playful teasing toward him. The lips he’s been so mesmerized and bewitched by throughout this chaotic excuse of a shopping trip.

And when they meet, they’re as full and soft as he imagined them to be, melding perfectly against his.

The hand he’s nestled under your head allows him to press you further into the liplock. You’re nearly enveloped in his wistful machinations, wanting to drown in the sea of his affections as your arms find their way around him.

You would’ve allowed yourself to do so, if not for the unfortunate security camera you catch in the corner of your eye from where you laid.

Your eyes widen, staggering out of their half-liddedness. You pat your hand in rapid succession against his shoulder, getting the blond to stir and separate from the kiss—an act he detests as he doesn’t want the embrace to end.

“What?” he gruffs. You point up at the ceiling, and he turns in that direction. When he detects the security camera about to automatically shift toward this particular side of the Capsule Toy Gacha Room, his face grows full of panic. He lifts himself off your body immediately.

With the two of you remembering where you are, you rose from the ground and cleaned yourselves up. You try to appear pristine as possible, without letting any suspicion about what has happened get tossed in your direction. Still, the red faces plastering both of your features are already a dead giveaway.

“I… Uh…” Bakugou’s still lost in the haze of the heated moment, unsure of what words he should utter. Much to his relief, his burden lifts when two notifications from your phones ring in sync together, diverting your attention.

When you open your phone and slide across the notice, a text message from the Bakusquad ascends onto the screen.

Mina: heyyyy just finished going through all these vending machines! you wont believe how much money we spent!!

The message follows a selfie of the four holding a myriad of drinks and snacks together in the picture. You can’t suppress your giggle at the endearing sight. Another chime sounds when a new text pops up at the bottom.

Eijirou: let’s all meet up again at that blue mystery vending machine!

“Well, you heard them,” you say while clicking off your phone, “we better get a move on.”

Bakugou relays your words back in a slow nod, following through with a rough “yeah” that cleaves his throat. The two of you walk alongside each other once again while you leave the Capsule Toy Gacha Room. Only your steps padding against the mall’s confounds accompany the quiet atmosphere established between you two—awkward and a bit unnerving.

It’s when you’ve both made it to the meet-up spot in front of the blue vending machine that you alleviate yourselves of the strained tension.

“Soooo… was there any reason you wanted to get your hand on this thing so badly?” you question, drawing out the All Might charm that led those heated events to transpire. It dangles between your fingertips and glances at Bakugou along every rotation. The blonde bounces his eyes between you, All Might, and the ground, unsure if he should admit that he was acting out of childish jealousy and bitterness.

“I… Urgh… Fuck…”

You raise an eyebrow when he fumbles with his words. He mutters blatant obscenities between every possible resolve that crosses his mind.

“Look, forget it. It’s not important,” Bakugou concludes, but you think differently, not satisfied with his answer.

“No. Tell me.”

With that weight in your tone, Bakugou realizes he can’t avoid the subject any longer. He releases a long sigh as he leads you through the infamous tale, observing how your expression grows from concerned to downright amused.

“Really? You’ve held a grudge for that long?” The laughter you initially attempt to suppress ends up bubbling from your throat. Hearing it spurs Bakugou to clutch his hands together into shaky fists.

“Look. If you know me, then you should remember I never want to lose to fucking Deku. The fact he got the All Might charm right after I got garbage fucking pissed me off!” he exclaims loud enough for his harsh words to reach a couple walking by. They spare worried glances at the blonde when they stroll past him.

“Hmm…” you muse in thought. Bakugou can tell by the glint rising in your eyes and your tone that you’re up to something again. “I can give you mine if you want. But only for a very small price.”

He quirks an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “And what would that fucking price be?”

The smirk prominent on your pretty lips widens while you teeter your weight to your tippy-toes in front of him.

“A date. Just a single date will suffice,” you tell him, and Bakugou’s caught off guard by how simple the offer is. His delayed response has you leaning forward, appraising him for an answer.

“Well..?” You wave the charm before his eyes by the thin string as if to hypnotize him. But in all honesty, Bakugou knows that sweet smile of yours and luster in your eyes is all you need to have him wrapped around your finger.

His playful smirk surfaces his lips. He provides his answer by snatching the figure right from your dainty fingertips.

“You got yourself a deal, princess.”

You happily clap your hands together. “It’s settled then! We’ll have a date here at the mall next week!”

“Hah?! Why the fucking mall again?!”

“Because we didn’t do much here anyway, so I say we should give it another shot together next week!”

“What? And go shopping? I don’t wanna be your bellboy the entire time—”

“Mom! Mom! Look at that boy’s All Might toy!”

You and Bakugou are both surprised by the new, high-pitched voice that enters in the middle of your riffraff. Your eyes trail along to sound and come face-to-face with a young boy staring at the toy in Bakugou’s hand.

“I want one too!”

Unable to control his gloating, Bakugou dangles the charm next to his face.

“Yeah well, too bad, kid. It’s mine so f—”

“Bakugou,” you warn. You halt the obscene words from entering the boy’s ears and avoid giving his mom a hard time.

“Argh… I mean... scram!”

You almost smack yourself. You can’t believe Bakugou has the guile to argue with a child at this age.

Though he forgoes the curses, that doesn’t make Bakugou’s words sound any less harsh. As a result, the kid pouts. He pouts hard. His eyes start to become glassy, lining the edge of his lashes with droplets. Recognizing her child on the verge of breaking out into tears, the mom acts quickly. She’s by his side, patting his back.

“Sweetie, why don’t you go to that blue vending machine over there and see if you can get a toy too,” she cheers him up instantly, dropping a hundred yen coin down her son’s small palm.

“Okay, mom!” he responds, gleeful again.

He dawdles over to the machine with purpose in his steps, inserting the coin, and pressing the lone button on the mystery vending machine.

You and Bakugou don’t perceive any noise emitting from the machine, and yet the little boy is putting his hands into the slot to pull something out.

“Mom, why did the machine give me a paper that says PS5?”

Both of you go rigid. Kaminari is not going to be happy hearing about this.

#bnha #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #bakugou scenarios

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goldensstateofgrace · 3 years

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Dream Of How You (Tasted) - Chapter One -

(So... my first Series!!! I’ll be working on this a lot, and i want you to know it’s not gonna be perfect because I’m not perfect and my writings definitely not perfect, so bare with me on this journey please!! Who’s ready for some Camgirl!y/n??)

A story about Y/N becoming a camgirl because she needs the money but also because she gets off on the praise she gets from total strangers. She enjoys helping other’s get off while doing so herself. When talk about a one on one session with a guy who always watches her streams becomes reality, what happens when she finds out it was her crush/best friend all along?

I hope you guys are excited!! bc I know I am!! Hope you enjoy, happy reading!!

(Also, i picture Harry as long haired harry, but you can picture him however you’d like!!!)

Word count: 1.7k (4 pages) (i promise the other chapters will be longer!)

Y/n didn’t know college could be so expensive, her job at the coffee shop on campus just wasn’t cutting it anymore. She needed to find something else to help pay for school and her rent.

She’s in her second year of uni, all the book costs and the rent for having an apartment so close to campus is outrageous. She tried to find a second job to help with the money problem she was currently having, but couldn't find anything that could work around her classes and coffee shop schedule.

Her best friend, Harry, tried to get her a job alongside him at his job, but again the schedule didn’t work for her and they couldn’t change it. So now, she's stuck trying to find something to do so close when she needs to pay her rent.

It was outrageous how much the rent was for a one bedroom apartment close to campus, it’s a thousand - some dollars a month just to be close to campus, but that’s including her light and water bill so she can’t complain too much.

Harry had offered to let her move in with him to cut down the cost, so she could save some money for school. But she declined because her boyfriend at the time didn’t feel comfortable with it, only to find out on their one year anniversary that he had been cheating on her for a while. Asshole.

Nothing has been said since, but she wished he would. Moving out of her apartment would help so much, but she didn’t want to ask.

Lost in her thoughts she didn’t even notice Harry walking beside her, as she walked across the courtyard to class.

“Why so glum” he nudged her in the side with his elbow, startling her out of her thoughts. She slaps in on the arm, chuckling, “Harry! Don’t do that!”

“You didn’t answer the question, What’s wrong? And don’t give me the ‘Nothing im fine!’ thing you do,” he says, mimicking a higher pitched girly voice, chuckling once he was done.

“Heyy! I don’t sound like that you twat!” you backhand his abdomen making him rub his stomach area as he grimaces in slight pain.

“But” she starts, “i’ve just been struggling again, i tried looking for a job but, just like last time the schedule didn’t line up with any of my classes or with when i was working at the coffee shop.” she says, huffing in annoyance.

Harry nods his head as she talks, listening to her, wishing he could help in some way. He tried before, but she turned him down, she didn’t even tell him why. He figured it had something to do with that cheating ex of hers.

“Y/n, if you need help, all you have to do is ask. I’ll always be her to help you in any way I can,” he tells her, his eyes flickering over her face, showing nothing but seriousness, a drastic change from his happy light hearted self he was just a few minutes ago.

She casts her eyes away from him, focusing her eyes on the pavement under her feet as she walks. She doesn’t say anything for a while, but eventually she looks up at him, tears filling her eyes.

“I know” she nods, “Thank you, Harry. You don’t have to, but thank you,” she says, the tears in her eyes threatening to spill down her cheek but they don’t get the chance as she wipes them away before they do.

Harry wraps his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side and placing a kiss to her head, “I may not have to, but i want to.” he mumbles into the top of her head.

Her arm wraps around his middle as they continue to walk to their second class of that morning, “Thank you.”

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

“You know what you should do?” Harry's friend Niall says as y/n, Harry, Niall and y/n’s friend Amy sit around a table in the coffee shop having lunch. Y/n quirks her eyebrow up as she takes a bite of her turkey sandwich, motioning him to go on.

Y/n had just got finished telling them about how she was in search of another job, and about how she needed the money to pay rent soon.

“You should do only fans, or p*** h**, they make lots of money and that way you get something out of it other than stress and tiredness.” he says, making her almost choke on her sandwich.

“W-what!” y/n says just as Harry says “Dude! No!”

“What’s the big deal? Lots of people do it, and you don’t even have to show your face. You could even go by a different name!” Niall reasons.

Y/n was shocked by his suggestion, but she wouldn’t lie and say she was put off by the idea. Nobody would know it was her, and he did have a point about her not having to go by her own name.

She couldn’t believe she was actually considering this but, you have to do what you have to do.

“yeah uh” she clears her throat, “good suggestion Ni, but i think i’ll just stick with trying to find a job near campus” she says, chuckling as she takes another bite of her sandwich.

“eh, it was worth a shot,” he laughs, before the conversation steers to assignments everyone had to get done and ones they’ve already done.

After they all finish eating they sit around talking for a little bit before Y/n and Harry had to head for their last class of the day.

As they walk to class, Harry’s arm that’s thrown over y/n’s pulls her into his side, “You know Niall was coming from a good place, right. He didn’t mean to offend you or anything,” he says, making you look up at him with your brows furrowed in confusion.

“yeah , i know. I didn’t take any offence to it, but…” she trailed off, “What?” harry asks, motioning for her to continue as they walk past a group of people blocking the sidewalk.

“Would it be so bad? I mean he had a point about me not having to show my face or use my actual name” she said, her eyes flicking over his face for some kind of clue into what he thought of it all.

Harry doesn’t say anything for a while, it’s just as they were about to walk into their class that he pulled her to the side and let their other classmates go in first, “I don’t have a problem with it, it’s your body, you have the right to do whatever you want with it. If you decide that that’s what you want to do to make the money you need i’ll support you 100%, if not i’ll still support you, no matter what,” He tells her, looking into her eyes with nothing but seriousness splayed across his face.

Y/n nods, standing up on her tiptoes and reaching her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, “Thank you, Harry. I honestly don’t know what i’d do without you!” she mumbles into his neck as his arms wrap around her waist pulling her impossibly closer to his chest.

“I don’t either honestly” he laughs, pulling away from her with a huge contagious smile across his face, only making her laugh and smile too.

“Come on, let's go to class,” he said, throwing his arm back around her shoulder and leading her through the classroom doors.

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

It was later that night, y/n couldn’t sleep. Her thoughts running wild with what could happen if she did decide to become a camgirl, or whatever it was called these days.

She was laying in bed, trying to find out more about what comes with being a camgirl, what she needed to do and what other people were looking to watch.

She had found a girl, her page consisting of videos showing off her curves and sexy lingerie, along with videos of her using toys on herself. All of the videos have over thousands of views, y/n decided that she would message the women who went by ‘daddiespet20’.

Rewrote her message so many times she lost count before she finally found what she wanted to ask and sent the message,“Hey! I’m y/n, i was wondering if you could maybe help me, i’ve been looking into getting into only fans. Could you maybe help me with some questions I have?”

She waited a while for a reply back, along with going down a tiktok rabbit hole, laughing at the stupid tiktoks Harry posted the other day. Her phone finally pinged with a notification, she quickly pulled the notification bar down to see it was a reply from the women she had messaged, “Daddiespet20: Hi! Yes ofc, ask away.”

She honestly wasn’t expecting to get a reply back, thinking the women must have thousands of people messaging her all day every day.

Y/n quickly wrote out a message of the main questions she wanted answered, “Thank you sm! It’s only a few questions, 1: does the amount you get paid rely on the amount of views you get on each of your videos?, 2: how did you gain your audience, and keep them interested in what you were putting out?, 3: Do you have any tips on where to start (seeing as I'm new to all of this)?”

The woman answers all of y/n’s questions with no problem, along with telling her some tips on how to get started and how to gain followers. The conversion ends after messaging back and forth for almost an hour, y/n’s walking away with all the information she was looking for plus more.

Talking to her really helped y/n come to the decision that this is what she was going to do, she was going to make videos of her showing off her body and pleasuring herself. Never in a million years did she think she would come to this just so she could keep a roof over her head and stay in school.

Now all she had to do was buy some sexy lingerie and some toys, well more toys. What? She’s not a prude!

It was getting late so she decided she would go to bed and figure everything out tomorrow, along with ordering her underwear and the toys online. She definitely didn’t need anyone from school seeing her by that stuff. God, she could just imagine the embarrassment she would feel if that happened.

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

Feed back is highly appreciated!! Hope you enjoyed 🥺🥰

#harry styles x y/n #harrystylessmut #harryfic #harrystylesfic #harry styles imagine #harrystyles #harry styles x reader #camgirl!y/n

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obscureamor · 4 years

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❝𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭, 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠❞

❥ takeda ittetsu x fem! reader x ukai keishin

❥ t/w | nsfw, dubcon, mentions of past noncon, light choking, manipulative behaviors

» a/n | part of the lovesick server collab! the prompt was ‘yandere purge au’

Takeda Ittetsu and Ukai Keishin.

They were an odd pair, but they worked nonetheless.

When you first met Takeda, he was the sweetest thing ever. He was the physical embodiment of a sweet candied apple you’d get during the holidays. You remember him showing you around the school and making sure you had all your bearings straight as his assistant teacher. The sweet, sweet smile laced on his lips was nothing compared to now, nothing compared to the way he looked at you with such adoration as the TV played low in the background. If it was possible, his eyes would have glimmering hearts and a halo of love would be atop the crown of his head as he stared at you. It was the look a child gave the toy they’ve been begging their parents for.

Meeting Keishin was a different story altogether. He had heard so much about you from his dearest friend Takeda and at first, he didn’t see it. He didn’t see the hype and the ethereal being Takeda made you out to be. Keywords being at first. Many nights at the bar turned into Takeda getting drunk off his ass, spewing too many emotions and ballads about you. His words laced strongly with such fondness and passion. It was the words someone would spew out when they rambled about their interests.

The way your hair was as soft as rabbits fur.

The way your lips reminded him of watermelon sugar when you wore that pink tinted lip gloss.

The way your panties were as cute as you.

The way it was dangerous how you left your apartment key under your doormat for just anyone to use.

The way you smiled oh-so-proudly when you completed a grueling task, calling out to him with a ‘Look! Takeda-san!’

The words never failed to have his cock twitching in his pants. Takeda could name everything and anything about you. That’s what made Keishin pay attention to you, that’s what made Keishin offer up his apartment for protection during the purge.

It would be stupid of you not to accept.

You weren’t as well endowed as Keishin. In order to get up to his place, you needed to go through the store first, and the metal gates keeping everything under lockdown were stronger than your flimsy wooden apartment door. But with the way Takeda was staring at you as you tried to read the book you’d brought along… you couldn’t focus. When you finally felt him look away, the breath you’ve been holding was let out. You could see him fiddling with his glasses in the corner of your eye, cheeks flushed pink for reasons unknown to you. Keishin isn’t doing anything special, just sitting on the couch next to you as he smokes his cigarettes. You hate how calm he is.

You wonder if this is how it’s always been for him, being able to sit back inside the comfy confines of his home while all hell broke loose outside. Has Keishin ever wanted a darling to take for himself? Was he ever madly in love with someone to the point of going to extremes on the well-known purge night?

Now that you think about it, you didn’t know much about Keishin. He was Takeda’s friend and you’ve seen him on the rare occasion that you help out with the volleyball team. Those instances were the worst. Whenever you were around to help, Takeda and Keishin would always let the players and managers go home early. It’d be late at night as the three of you would bring down the net and collect volleyballs, wheeling the cart into the storage room. You could remember with such detail the way Keishin trapped you against the cart, hands on either side of you as you could feel him grind into your ass, hardened cock poking you.

You didn’t know that Takeda was watching… neither of you did. He watched on, small whimpers leaving his mouth as Keishin used you until he eventually came, spilling his hot seed all over himself. Takeda didn’t notice the tears leaking out of your eyes or the way you bit down on your lip hard to at least save some dignity. All he knew was that you looked beautiful as Keishin was rutting against you.

It was stupid of you to accept Keishin’s offer because of that, but you knew he wouldn’t try anything, not with Takeda around.

You feel light-headed, nauseated as you feel the need to pass out. You didn’t drink or eat anything that would cause the suspicion to arise within you of being drugged. You chalk it up to anxiety. You’ve always gotten like this during the dreaded purge. Although you’re all high up, you can still hear the screams of those who are outside. The ‘where are you, darling?’ and the ‘get back here’s. You felt for everyone still out there, but you were getting fidgety, eager to leave even though not much time had passed.

You just needed to get out of here and away from Keishin.

It makes you tense up, a small squeak leaving your mouth when you can feel his hand fall on top of your thigh. You look at his hand before your eyes trail up to his face. He’s focused on the TV as an aerial shot of major cities comes to view. There’s houses being broken into and people chasing each other. You can tell that he knows what he’s doing with the way his cigarette hangs smugly from his lips. The lit end is growing a bright vermilion as it burns, just like your face is burning hot at the feel of his skin on yours. His hand starts to trail up, slowly dipping into the plush of your inner thi—

You stand up, making sure you have your phone on you before you speak, “I-I’m, uh, going to go use the bathroom.”

You spare a glance at Takeda, already seeing the way his brows furrow, lips slightly parted. You give him a soft smile before continuing on your way.

The first thing you do when you’re inside the bathroom is lock the door. A deep sigh leaves you as you lean against it. You pull your phone out of your pocket, scrolling through your contacts.

‘Tanaka S.’

You click on it. Hoping she’ll pick up, hoping she’ll at least take your mind off things and tell you you’re just paranoid. That everything will be okay and that you’re safe with Keishin, safe with Takeda. She knows them better than you do.

“Come on. Come on,” you mutter to yourself.

It rings.

Once

Twice

Thrice

You wait until the sound of her voicemail plays, the beep giving you your cue to speak.

“Hey…” You sigh out. “I-I just, uh… I’m safe for one, but— just— something doesn’t feel right. I don’t know… Saeko, please call me back,” you whisper.

You pull the phone away from your ear and it’s only now that you notice the call ended right as you were about to send off the voicemail.

“Fuck,” you hiss.

You try again. This time there are no rings. The call doesn't even get a chance to start.

Someone from the outside must have a phone jammer on… but is that possible? Would it really reach up here? It’s silent as you try to process what's happening. Until it isn’t. There’s shuffling outside the door and unless Keishin needs something from his room... no one should be there. You slowly step away, phone in a death grip as you narrow your eyes. You don’t see any shadows creeping in from the bottom of the door.

‘I’m going crazy,’ you think. 'I’m just paranoid. Takeda would never let anything bad happen to me.’

You brace yourself as you open the door. The feeling of relief that washes through you is as clear as day when you see no one outside or anywhere near the hall. Your shoulders sag as you sigh out and continue on your way.

‘Huh?’

It wasn't that much of an off sight, but coming back to an empty living room isn't all that soothing. Maybe Keishin did go off to his room, but that still wouldn't explain Takeda’s disappearance. Your feet are moving and suddenly you take great interest in the things on Keishin’s kitchen table. There are pamphlets from places you don’t recognize, but there’s one… ‘Yandere Emporium!’ It shows a plethora of supplies, one of them being a... a phone jammer. It’s circled with a red pen, the type he uses when he corrects students’ work. You're too caught up in your discovery that you don't hear the person coming up from behind you. There's a gasp that leaves you as their arms come to wrap around you. Your body tenses up and you already know who it is from their stature.

“Keishin,” you warn. “You can’t— You can’t do this here, please…”

He's kissing at your neck, hand going to cup your mound while the other goes to grope at your tit. It’s instant when your vision starts to cloud as you're reminded of that time in the storage closet. The time Keishin whispered in your ear that if he had more time he’d take you fully and properly like you deserve. It's only now that you remember something you tucked away so far in the corners of your mind…

'When the purge comes around you better be ready, y/n.'

A sob leaves you only to be muffled by Keishin’s hand. You can feel his fingers pry your mouth open, worming their way in and resting on your writhing tongue.

He can't do this. He can't do this with Takeda around. He won’t.

Where is Takeda?

Your eyes widen as he shoves his other hand down your pants. You can feel his forefingers rubbing at you through the fabric of your panties and you feel like you're screaming— you think you're screaming but you can't tell with the way your blood is rushing to your ears. You can't move. You scream at yourself to fight back and it finally seems like you have control over your limbs again. Your hand is tugging at his wrist, clawing at it and you can feel your nails digging into his skin. You completely stop when you hear him groan out, eyes widening because it should hurt. Why is he acting like it doesn't hurt?

“Calm down.” He chuckles. “You act like I won't treat you right.” He grinds into you, grunting at the way his cock fits snugly between your ass.

It's a miracle when you catch sight of the bespectacled man. Keishin lets the hand in your mouth drop down to your throat. The fact that he’s not even trying to hide his actions from Takeda should be a big red flag for you. You always looked at the world through rose-tinted glasses and that's what Takeda loved about you so much. It reminded him of flowers blooming in the summer and it only showed him how sweet you really were.

“T-Takeda! Takeda, please help me! Pl—” your voice starts to die down when you realize what’s wrong. “Please…” you whisper looking at him with shaky lips and eyes filled with disbelief, filled with betrayal. Takeda wrings his hands together, cheeks flushed a cherry red as his eyes dart from Keishin’s hand down your pants to your face. You can already tell he’s hard… hard at the sight of you crying and getting used by his colleague.

Your head falls back onto Keishin’s shoulder as you cry, biting your bottom lip as his fingers shove your panties to the side and finally make their way inside you.

“How are you going to get help from him when this was his idea all along, sweetheart?” Keishin taunts.

This was his plan all along.

Your eyes clench shut, desperately trying not to think about the way Keishin’s fingers are thrusting in and out of you. You can hear the sound of screeching, wood dragging against the floor. When you open your eyes, you can see Takeda staring at you. He’s sitting at the kitchen table, eyes studying your figure.

“Are you gonna cum?” Keishin mutters. “You gonna cum all over my fingers, huh, pretty girl?” He can feel the way your walls are tightening around him and just when you’re about to cum, just when you’re about to give in, he pulls them out. You watch as he holds them up, fingers spreading and slick glistening on them. He brings them to Takeda’s mouth. Your eyes widen and you watch as Takeda's lips wrap around Keishin’s fingers. There's a lewd sucking noise that rings in your ears as Takeda cleans off your essence.

You don't do much except keep your lips in a tight line when Keishin brings those same fingers up to your mouth. “Open your whore mouth, y/n,” he whispers. His hand squeezes around your throat and your mouth drops open. He groans at the way you lap at his digits, tongue swirling around. You don’t like how you’re giving in so easily, how you’re letting this happen, but what can you do? It’s either stay safe here or have someone else who has their eye out for you take you.

What if they’re some sadistic freak? What if they want to hurt you because they don’t want anyone else to have you?

It’s overwhelming. The thoughts. The emotions.

You can feel Keishin bending you over the kitchen table, pants and panties being pulled down. You blink once, twice, thrice as the clicking of his belt resonates in your ears. It reminds you of the bell at the diner Takeda and you used to go to. He was always eager to drive you two there as it was a long way from Miyagi. It was 24 hours and when you two were swamped with his students' work to grade, you’d always spend hours there. Hours talking, hours telling Takeda about yourself and now that you realize it… it was mainly you who did the sharing. You knew things about Takeda… just not as much as he knew about you.

You whine when you feel the head of Keishin’s cock slide along your opening. He gives no warning as he pushes in relatively easy and there’s a laugh that leaves him as you try but fail to muffle your gasp.

“Finally,” Keishin groans as he bottoms out within you, walls fluttering around his length. His hands fall to your ass, pulling the soft flesh apart before pulling out and thrusting back in. You moan as he seems to hit deeper than before, as he starts kneading the flesh, calloused hands giving you a sensation you’ve never felt. “Finally I get to experience this tight ass pussy.”

Your nails are digging into the tabletop. You feel like a rabbit that’s being taunted and teased by foxes before being eaten. Although, it’s already happening. You’re already being eaten and Takeda was the sly fox who planned everything. He gained your trust, your comfort, and planned out something so horrible it’s eating you alive. Your face is covered by your forearms, trying desperately to hide the way you’re panting and moaning out as Keishin’s cock fills you up again and again. The feeling of someone's hand stroking your hair makes you flinch. Takeda’s face is all you can see as you lift your head.

“Do you feel good?” His brows furrow, eyes looking over your face for any signs of discomfort. His question echoes in your head. You know it’s genuine… everything about Takeda was. “Do you want Keishin to go faster?”

You can’t control it when you nod your head, when a ‘Keishin, faster, please’ falls from your lips.

“Keishin, you should probably—” Takeda starts, but everything is blurred out as Keishin’s hand starts to rub at you. You can hear a muffled ‘I know what I’m doing specs.’ as you cry out in both pleasure and humiliation. Humiliation because your hips seem to be chasing each one of his thrusts. Pleasure because when Keishin lifts one of your legs onto the table you wail out, creaming just from the sensation of his long cock hitting even deeper.

It makes you feel nauseous when Takeda’s hand comes to hold yours. His thumb rubs over your knuckles and you don’t know how he’s acting like you’re not getting railed by his friend right in front of him.

“You’ll be staying with specs,” Keishin grunts out over the sound of smacking, stray curses leaving his mouth as your walls clamp down around him. “Of course I’ll still visit you from time to time, but you're his.”

You nod your head. Your free hand comes up to root into Takeda’s hair, a squeak leaving him as you pull him in for a kiss. He tastes like candied apples with a mix of you. You can feel his hands come up to your face, wiping away the new set of tears that are falling. You don’t know how much time is left, but when the purge ends and if you’re still here… Keishin is right.

You’re completely and utterly Takeda’s.

You won’t have a chance to leave him until the next purge, won’t be able to resist his shaky smiles and the way his face heats up when you get a little too close. His plan wasn’t all that difficult and getting Keishin to help him with the promise of finally being able to fuck you wasn’t in vain at all. It didn’t take much convincing to get Keishin to come onto you in the storage closet either. It painted Takeda in a wholesome light. It made you trust him more than you did Keishin.

“Fuck,” Keishin hisses. “I’m gonna fucking cum. I’m gonna fucking fill up this pretty little cunt.”

He’s rambling. Keishin doesn’t know what he’s saying as your walls flutter around him and you cry into Takeda’s mouth as you cum again. The feeling of his warm seed flooding into you is so overwhelming— you drop. You drop onto the table, head in your arms as you sob. You feel empty when Keishin pulls out of you. He pulls your bottoms back up and they both watch as you try to collect yourself. It’s silent as you push yourself off the table, Takeda’s arms wrapping around you instantly. He whispers sweet words into your ear as his hand rubs your back soothingly and you can’t help but fall into his comforting and familiar embrace.

You remember falling asleep in Keishin’s bed and the faint feeling of your unconscious body being moved as he carried you to Takeda’s car is heavy in your bones— the rest is a blur.

All you know is that when you wake up in what you could only assume as Takeda’s bed, you’re not alarmed. When he comes in, sitting down next to you to try and explain his side, his reasoning, your heart clenches as tears gather in his eyes. You don’t say anything as you hug him, cutting him off and pushing your face into his chest. His shirt dampens from your tears, but at least you’re in his arms and when you whisper out his name he can’t help but smile... letting his regretful façade crack.

And like a rabbit, you’re completely devoured whole by one sly fox— you were too sweet, too trusting of Takeda Ittetsu.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere haikyuu x reader #yandere ukai keishin #yandere x reader #takeda x reader #yandere takeda ittetsu #ukai x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #ukai keishin x reader #takeda ittetsu x reader #tw dubcon #nads writes haikyuu

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transgenderknothead · 3 years

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I know I've been gone for like ever, but I was working on something super cool, so without further adieu... I Want the Truth a creepy pasta fanfiction just under 2k words!

Truth is undefinable, yes it has a definition, not lying, but how do you determine what’s a lie and what isn’t? It’s difficult, especially when you get different answers from the same person. My mother always tells me I have no memory due to various different accidents. First she said car crash, then she said nearly drowned, then it was kidnapped, her current story is that I had been in a coma for most of my life due to a birth defect. When I ask why her story keeps changing she says she isn’t quite sure what is causing my memory loss, as all of those things happened. My friends and I were hanging out at the old children’s mental hospital, it had burned down about four years ago and ever since my friends and I would go and try to figure out why and how it had burned. So far we had found nothing, nothing that was in one piece anyway, we had found three shattered skull fragments and a lot of broken wood. We’d searched all over the building, except for one room, which we could never open. It was a metal door, that when we tried using axes, hatchets, and even random pieces of wood nearby, they fell apart before even reaching it. We have no idea what’s on the other side, but it feels important, and because my friends are stubborn, we will never stop trying to open it or get inside. “Again!” Toby, my boyfriend, yelled when the head of his metal axe fell off when it made contact with the door. “At least this time we hit it,” I rubbed his shoulder as he slumped, “and it looks like you even dented it.” “If his noodle arms dented it, imagine what I could’ve done,” his athletic twin brother, Evan, flexed. “I don’t know, why don’t ya punch it, see what happens,” Toby argued. “Would you two knock it off,” their 14 year old little sister Jessy rolled her eyes, “what did Mom and Dad say about you arguing all the time?” Toby rolled his eyes, a tiny smile appearing when we made eye contact. “We should head back,” I piped up a little. Back at the house Toby and I went into his room, separated from his twin by a curtain, the tall boy flopping onto his bed. “Are you okay?” I rubbed his back. “Something about that room just,” he rolled over, pulling me with him, “I don’t know, it makes no sense.” “What is it?” “It gives me a weird gut feeling,” he scratched my back lightly, “like something bad is behind it.” I had woken up in the middle of the night, bolting up in bed next to Toby. It was always the same nightmare. I’m sitting in a pitch black room, a fuzzy figure of a purple, pink, blue, and yellow jester with a hammer sitting in front of me. It seemed like it was trying to communicate with me, but I couldn’t hear, or even see, much of it. The next morning we all headed over to the mental hospital again. Toby, having hurt his hand playing guitar last night, was going to let me try opening the door with his brand new axe. So here we stood, axe held over my head, everyone else standing back. When I swung the door flew open and the axe hit the floor instead. “Um, to whichever deity is out there, please help,” Jessy whimpered. I walked in, it looked as though this room had the worst of it. An entire wall caved in, shattered glass everywhere, all of the furniture destroyed. The walls that were left standing had what was very obviously scratch marks from whatever child was in here. “Holy,” I whispered, spinning around to look at the room. I kept looking around until I saw the bed in the corner, it was rusted and broken to no end, but that isn’t what caught my attention. It was the seemingly untouched blue bunny stuffed animal holding a very broken, but unburned, Jack-in-the-Box. I reached for it instinctively, but Toby grabbed my wrist. “Don’t,” he whispered. “I just want to know,” I grabbed the toys, inspecting them, before dropping them and gasping. I slowly picked them back up, and cradled the bunny, who was now missing an eye. “What is it?” Evan stood in the doorway, very obviously too scared to enter the room fully. “My name,” I whispered, just loud enough

to hear, “it’s on both of these.” I twisted the toys to show the red stitched name on the bunny and the carved name on the box. “Oh god,” Jessy whispered. I clutched the toys to my chest and started running back. “WAIT!” Toby called. “I have to know, I need to know the truth about my memory, and the truth about these!” I yelled when he caught up to me, he let go and let me run. “Whoa, slow down kid, where’s the fire,” my mom jokes. “What’s this,” I held up the toys and her face went pale, “don’t even think about lying, I want the truth this time.” “They were a couple of toys your childhood friend’s gave you before they left,” she replied. “Okay, new question,” I stood up straighter, “why were they in the mental hospital?” She gasped and dropped her tea cup. She smiled, looking at me, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “Mom, why can’t I remember anything? Don’t give me a story like you do every time.” “You still believed in imaginary friends,” she cried, “you were twelve, that’s not normal for a 12 year old kid! I had to do something to make you realize they were fake!” “So putting me in a hospital and drugging me into forgetting was your grand solution?” I yelled. “You don’t understand,” she started. “You’re right, I don’t understand, but what I do understand is that I’m not the type of person to believe something I haven’t seen, or hasn’t been proved to me,” I crossed my arms, knowing what I had to do. “Don’t do anything stupid,” my boyfriend spoke when they finally caught up. “I have to know,” I spoke before turning around, taking the toys with me, and running into the woods. I ran for a long time, a couple of memories coming back to me. Playing with a tall stuffed clown, a tall red headed man with long hair and wearing a feathery jacket handing me the blue bunny, setting the fire in the hospital. Eventually, I ran up to a familiar metal gate that led to a run down carnival. I opened the gate and it creaked. My heart was pounding in my chest as I clutched the bunny tighter to my chest, the Jack-in-the-Box in my hoodie pocket. I heard a twig snap by the merry go round, causing me to run into the hall of mirrors. I fell against a wall trying to stop myself from crying. “Oh Gumdrop,” a singsong voice came from the entrance. I hid farther into the dark corner, “you don’t need to hide, we’re friends!” I watched the black and white clown look around the room, his hands on his hips. His eyes meet mine, he smiles wider and gets closer. “Jack!” A voice laughed from behind him, the jester from my dreams stepped forward. “It’s her!” Jack pointed, and the jester looked my way. “I’ve been tryna reach ya,” he pulled me out of the dark, “but ya never heard me!” “I’m sorry,” I whimpered, his grip wasn’t tight, but I could tell neither of them were human. “Don’t be sorry! It aint your fault!” The jester giggled, pulling me out of the hall of mirrors and into the big tent, where three more inhuman entities were talking and working. One was a shorter man with black hair, a sketch pad, blue jacket, and a white mask with a red smile sitting next to him. Next to him was a more average height man with dark grey skiing, all black clothes, golden eyes, and what looked like a puppet hanging from golden strands of light coming from his fingers. Across from him was a very tall white haired man dressed like a magician and holding a wand. “There you are,” the man with the sketch book said. “We’ve been waiting for you to come back,” the grey man next to him continued. “She doesn’t remember us,” the magician looked at me. “I’m sorry,” I murmured. “Don’t apologize!” The jester rolled his eyes, “we’ll just reintroduce you!” “I’m Laughing Jack!” Jack spoke, “you used to call me L.J. for short!” “This is Puppeteer, who you called Pup,” the man with the sketchbook pointed at the man with the puppet. “This is Helen,” Puppeteer smiled, pointing at the one with the sketchbook. “I’m Papa El De Grande,”

the magician spoke, “you always called me Mr. Magic.” “I’m Candy Pop!” the jester tickled my sides, “you called me Pop.” “Where’s Jason?” L.J. looked around. “His workshop, fixing Mr. Bun Bun,” Puppeteer said, “it’d be best if she went alone.” Puppeteer took me over to a red and white tent near the big one. He told me to just go in, and that he’s never been mad when I was around because he never wanted to scare me away. “Jason?” I poked my head in, and was greeted by a big stuffed purple worm covered in patches. “Glutton!” A voice yelled from farther into the tent, “get over here!” I followed as the worm snaked towards a redhead man with golden eyes, putting an eye on the rabbit that I had come here with. “Jason?” He looked up at the calling of his name, smiling gently when he saw it was me. “It’s been a long time, Dolly,” he handed me the bunny, standing up he towered over me, “come on, let’s go for a walk.” During the walk he answered all of my questions that my mother refused to answer. He caught me up on all of the missing details of the past. And eventually led me back to the front gate. “It’s nearly time for you to get home,” pat my head. “Remember to just wind up the jack in the box when you want to see me!” Jack waved. “I’ll visit ya in your dreams again tonight, maybe now you’ll be able to hear me!” Candy Pop laughed. “Come back tomorrow,” Helen waved from his seat on the stairs of the merry-go-round. “Oh my god,” a voice came from behind me, my mother had her hand over her mouth as she glanced over the people I had spent my childhood with. “I was right, Mom,” I whispered. “Jason?” She whispered the name of the man who was trying to get away. “Yes?” He turned around slowly to look at my mother. “Oh my god,” she whispered, “Jason Meyers.” I looked at my mother at the use of our last name. Jason lowered his head. “Mom?” “You have been spending time with the spirit of your father, and I took that away,” her hand went over her heart, “oh, I am so sorry dear.” “Wait, Mom I didn’t even know,” I stuttered. “I needed to protect you from the things you weren’t ready to know,” he ushered us out, “now come back tomorrow, it’s getting late.” “We have to take your boyfriend to meet them tomorrow,” my mother spoke, causing Jason to look up, his eyes suddenly glowing green and his hair slowly turning white. “Okay,” Jack clapped his hands, his smile gone, “I think it’s time for bed.”

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #jason the toymaker #Jason the toymaker x reader #jason the toymaker x reader #candy pop #laughing jack #puppeteer #Helen Otis #Bloody painter

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heli0s-writes · 4 years

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Artichokes

Summary: A peek into the beginning of Bag of Tricks

Pairing: Chaotic Dumbass!Reader/ Exasperated! Bucky

A/N: ~2k words. Written for @sunmoonandbucky‘s challenge! So sorry it’s late! Congrats on your milestone, you deserve it and so much more! ✨ My prompt was “Even artichokes have hearts”

Warnings: Canon-level violence, cursing. StupiT stuff.

“Hey.” It’s not a greeting.

The flight is still long, at least another two hours until the destination is reached. Behind his seat, you poke with your foot, other leg stretched over Natasha’s knee as she dozes off.

“What.” It’s not a question.

Fifteen minutes since the last time you opened your mouth and Bucky knew he wouldn’t make the half-hour mark; it was too good to be true.

“If you were an animal, what would you be?”

“Don’t like animals.”

A huff as you glare out the window and into the clouds, cross that he’s decided to be cross first.

“Okay. If you had a kid, boy or girl?”

“Don’t like kids.”

Natasha chuckles, eyes still closed, hand gently rubbing your knee in consolation because sometimes Bucky just gets this way, and he often gets this way in prolonged flights or car rides—when he’s showcasing his most winning personality trait: patience. Ha-ha.

And he gets this way, especially, with you.

The new addition, after a disastrous mission where you almost blew everyone’s cover by getting into a near-scuffle at the bar. It’s not your fault you were dragged into that impending train-wreck on your day off—never even having met the Avengers to begin with, and then immediately being thrust into an asinine high-profile mission requiring you to wear an evening gown with heels.

And if the situation couldn’t get any worse, as you were stuffing yourself into spanx and tacking fake eyelashes to your lids, you were informed that you’d be Bucky Barnes’ date for the night. Discomfort in itchy and too-tight, clothing, a room full of strangers, remanded to being someone’s mute eye-candy. It was the perfect cocktail for fisticuffs with the very man assigned to be your date.

Moving on.

With a heavy roll of your eyes, you lean right, let your shoulder press up against Nat, trying to find a comfortable position. “It’s probably a good idea,” she soothes, cracking her neck a little and the light flickering through the window makes her wince before it’s cut off by her hand closing the shutter.

“Stop looking at the squirrel,” Bucky shoulders his rifle. You’re sprawled out on your stomach, eye pressed against the scope, as he clocked—looking at a squirrel. It’s just so damn cute, stuffing that acorn into its cheek where the nut joins about three more. Beady little eyes flit back and forth before it takes off and you retreat from the show, crawling back on your elbows and lifting yourself up.

“You scared it!”

“Shut up. Let’s go.”

Nat crackles in your ears, “Stop arguing.”

You do, because Bucky yanks you away by the back of your suit, and because you (kind of) listen to your superiors. Might as well, you’ve only been a part of the team only two months and Bucky’s been here since the goddamn Stone Age, it seems, with the way he struts around so fucking stoic and grim. Me Bucky Barnes. Me Crush Newbie Into Dust. Me Don’t Like Fun. More Hulk than Winter Soldier. You snort.

Even Natasha will spend a little bit of time with you, watch a movie or do something that doesn’t require staring into the eyes of the same people every. Single. Day. She’s glad to have another woman around, anyway. You’ve been told Wanda and Vision (a robot, or something) have taken a sabbatical from the life.

Steve will go on runs and let you tag along for the first twenty minutes. Tony will let you put on the booster boots and clap when you careen yourself into a table because it warms his little troll heart to see you nursing a welt on your eyebrow. Sam? Sam will tear it up at a club; he will dance on top of the goddamn bar. Sam Wilson is a riot and a half, but Bucky?

Nothing. Looks at you disparagingly from across conference room tables. Rolls his dead-eyes at every opportunity when you open your mouth. Granted, your mouth doesn’t have a lot of helpful information and most of it is a deflection from true answers because that’s your stupid coping mechanism for when people get too close—but everyone else laughs.

Bucky Barnes doesn’t laugh. Bucky Barnes doesn’t like jokes.

Doesn’t like animals. Doesn’t like kids. Doesn’t like fun. Doesn’t like you.

Doesn’t help that you tried to strangle him with an evening gown two months ago, but, pish-posh, past is in the past.

“What’s the timeline for when I can graduate from newbie-status?” You ask breezily, inflecting your tone just the right way so that he knows you’re not that invested in this conversation.

“Whenever you can run a solo.”

“I can.”

An exasperated huff as he sticks his arm out in front of your collar. You look at him in irritation, ready to swat it away until your feet trip over a loose root and Bucky catches you by the shoulder.

“No,” he says calmly, setting you on your feet, “You can’t. You were on probation for a reason. Still on it, even if you moved jobs.”

Okay. So maybe calling it a “day off” was giving yourself too much credit. Fury was – haha—furious with you after The-Mission-That-Will-Not-Be-Named (lots of explosives, your boredom, paranoia, and inclination for entropy) and took you out of the field. Desk duty was the only apt punishment, until your immobility spiraled out of control and led you down the rabbit hole of hacking into your co-workers e-mails. He put you on probation after that. Took all your toys. No laptop. No badge. No gun.

Smartly, you shut up, letting Bucky walk ahead in case any more errant roots might make you eat your words again.

The path to the hideout is thick, full of stupid twigs and branches and you repeatedly brush spiderwebs from your face. Keeping close to Bucky, you let him shoulder most of the burden, only putting your hand up when a branch he snaps off with his hand flies too close to your eyes.

“IF—” You start loudly, and Bucky bristles at your volume, “If you had to go back into a burning building to sav--?”

“I wouldn’t.” He retorts, “And you’re being annoying.”

Three bullets whizz over Bucky’s head. He ducks immediately, snatching your arm and taking you down, too. If only this were one of those moments in the romantic comedies where he cages you in with his arms and you have a brief and blessed second of staring into his blue eyes where the world goes quiet and he realizes maybe you’re not that bad.

“ROLL--” He yells, instead, as he ducks behind a boulder. “--OUT OF THE GODDAMN WAY.”

Alas, not meant to be.

His gloved hand pushes into the air sideways, like he could push you, too, across the bed of fallen leaves and to safety. You’re quick enough to flip on your side, but not quicker than a third bullet and it streaks through the top of your forearm, carrying a fast stream of blood with it.

Your reach into the side holster on your thigh, pulling out your knife and launching it past the barrel squeezed between two trees. A clink as it misses and ricochets off the gun. Bucky does the same motion and it goes right into a shoulder with a firm squelch. He’s up on his feet, rushing across the leaves in a blur. Throwing the rifle down, you start sprinting right as an elbow jabs itself into Bucky’s chest and he stumbles. Then, a quick turn and you hurtle your weight across the air, spinning both feet into the man and landing on top of him. Bones crack beneath your weight.

There go the shoulders.

The agent gurgles again as you roll your sleeves up, ignoring the blood that splatters onto your knee.

Bucky steps back when you grab a fistful of dirt and throw it into his face, “Pocket sand, motherfucker.” Then, the butt of your handgun meets his temple with a loud pop. “Goodnight, ya dumb bitch.”

More rustling ushers in more lackeys and Bucky is dodging behind tree trunks, weaving knives and dodging bullet hailstorms. He warily looks around the bend of a tree, breathing through his mouth, assessing the situation. There are about four guys, armed to the teeth, well-trained as far as he can tell. Bucky should be able to take them out, and it would go easier with yo—Where the fuck are you?

Your shriek makes him flinch and he dashes across the way behind another trunk, heels digging into the dirt ready to charge. Guns are firing off, grunts and yells, and not even one second after Bucky comes out from behind the tree, he watches you punch a goddamn grenade into the thicket before shooting its previous owner in the neck.

The explosion rocks the ground slightly, but you’re unfazed, instead, focused intently on your hand. There is something wrong with your left arm. You hold it close to your side, fingers curled gingerly under your rib.

You look up at him, eyes brimming with tears.

Dread boils up from the pit of his belly. Bucky calls out to you, asking if you’re okay. You turn around and he hisses at the sight— shot through the bicep, cut over your cheek, but your gaze keeps falling downward.

Inside your cupped hands is a hedgehog, nose frantically twitching like a tiny rotten gumdrop. A sniffle as you slowly set the creature down, waiting for it to scurry away, but it never does.

Bucky groans. Shoulders his rifle with a disappointed sigh, exasperated that you tricked him into being concerned for your well-being, “Fucking-- you’ve got to be kidding. You got shot for that rodent?”

“He’s helpless! Look at him! Little baby! He could have a family! A hedgehog wife and hedgehog kids!” A wilted blubber, and good God, you’re completely serious about it, “Even artichokes have hearts, Barnes!”

“I’m about to artichoke you,” Bucky retorts, irritated, and the first comeback that pops into your head isn’t ideal for a family setting, but your mouth moves faster than your brain and there aren’t any kids around anyway.

“How’d you know that was my kink?” And then you brace yourself for the moment when Bucky Barnes annihilates your entire life, but there is only silence. Then, a snort. Then, finally, a series of low chuckles before he gasps, “Jesus Christ.”

You’re stunned into silence, and it’s a wonder, since he’s never known you to be silent for anything. Two months of no-filter commentary that makes him physically ill at times, and you’re shocked quiet.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, “You laughed. You don’t like anything. You don’t like kids. You don’t like animals… I don’t really know if you like to even laugh. God knows you don’t like me very much.”

“I like you just fine,” Bucky grins, and-- it’s a little blinding. His eyes shine brightly, midday sun in a mischievous blue sky, framed perfectly with those dark, long eyelashes. For a second you regret almost pummeling that nice-looking face in the first time you met it.

“You can’t keep that thing. I can see you.” Your hands freeze, one opening a pocket on your thigh, the other halfway sliding the creature in. Bucky glares when you continue, pretending he’s not there.

“Barnes, I’ve decided,” you declare, hoping it would throw him off, “This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

A beat passes as he chews on his next response, deep in contemplation. Bucky’s not sure what being your friend would entail— his annoyance, at the very best. His literal death, at worst.

“Hm,” he grunts softly, edge of his voice giving way to amusement, unable to fully keep his stoic demeanor. One eyebrow raises your way, corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly when your forehead furrows in wait.

“What?” You ask.

“Don’t like friendship.”

Taking a note from your book, Bucky punches the back of your hand, launching the hedgehog into the thicket, cackling at your screech all the while.

tags: @whothehellisbucky @serpentbaby @badassbaker @alagalaska @cake-writes @crist1216 @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @infinity-saga @jamesbarnesthighs @pinknerdpanda @xoxabs88xox @imsoft-barnes @momc95 @typicalangel @wretchedgoddess @readeity @iwannasail @ya-lyublu-tebya @geeksareunique @wildefire @satanxklaus @jhangelface0523 @wkemeup @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #reader insert #fanfiction #marvel #5kconstellationswc #bag of tricks helios

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barbasbodaciousbeard · 3 years

Text

If You Love Someone, Let Them Go

Summary: Since starting with SVU, Sonny hadn’t kept much terribly close to the chest. The squad knew about his family, growing up on Staten Island, the classes at Fordam. What was hidden was why he didn’t date. Sonny Carisi was also separated from his childhood sweetheart, a separation neither ever took to divorce. They had the same haunts. They’d grown up neighbors. Their paths crossed every few months, and divorce talks would turn into reminiscing would turn into a night spent together, sometimes sex sometimes just talking until the early morning. It always ended with one of them waking up alone however. How will that change when the squad finds out?

Pairings: Sonny Carisi x Original Character,

A/N: I’ve outlined a few chapters of this. This is kind of set up, and I’m kind of toying around with it. I hope somebody likes it. I thought of it and had to try to write it.

June 1994

“You can’t catch me,” Victoria squealed, poking Sonny in his side before she took off running across the yard. The Carsisi girls, all three sisters and his mother, were on the porch with Victoria’s mother. Victoria was the same age as Bella, two years younger than Sonny, but he was always delighted to know she’d rather run through the grass with him. She always picked him. These were the days before hormones kicked in, he was only nine, but she was cool and funny and his favorite person, not just his favorite girl.

“I can to!” he took off, and the way she laughed as she ran across the yard made him slow down. His legs were certainly long enough he could have caught her quickly, but instead he jogged while she sprinted. When she dropped into the grass, he fell beside her, sprawling out lanky limbs beside her.

“I won.”

“You’re gettin’ fast, Tor.”

“I gotta practice so I can beat you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grinned. “I bet ma will get us pizza. Want to watch a movie?”

“Can we watch Who Framed Roger Rabbit? We been watching Gremlins a lot.”

“Can we get sausage pizza?”

“Deal,” she said seriously, holding out her hand, which he shook gladly.

“Sonny!” Bella called into Victoria’s yard. “Ma and Ms. O’Toole said you gotta stay where they can see you.”

“We’re in their yard!”

“Where they can’t see.”

“Fine!” Sonny scrambled up, offering his hand to help Victoria up. “You can’t catch me.”

“Can to!”

“Try,” he laughed, taking off to his own yard again. He jogged again, and this time her sprint caught him. Victoria launched herself at him, tackling him and collapsing with him as they both laughed. Gianna Carisi and Irene O’Toole found the pair asleep by a pizza box that evening, giving each other a knowing smile.

April 2003

“I can’t believe your ma let you come,” Victoria grinned, looking up at Sonny. “Mom’s going to be mom so I was going to be on my own a lot.”

“In New Orleans? That ain’t safe, is it?”

“I been here a lot. I know the safe parts.”

“I still don’t like the idea.” What Sonny didn’t want to admit was what his teenage brain had realized about his best friend. She was really pretty. She was really pretty and really nice and really funny. That meant she wasn’t safe. It was at the new years eve party that he realized it, seeing her in a pretty dress and flirting with a guy. Johnny was fine, but he got a gnawing in the pit of his stomach, his mind racing as someone else got the attention that he always monopolized.

When he found her crying that February because Johnny actually wasn’t fine and had cheated on her with a cheerleader, he’d wanted to fight him. Instead, he took two of those stupid mud masks she and his sisters always tried to con him into, a pizza, and listened to her cry. His sisters always braided each other’s hair when they were venting, and Sonny had learned from them. That found him carefully braiding Victoria’s auburn hair as she transitioned from crying to laughing. Nothing made him prouder.

When Ms. O’Toole invited him to keep Victoria company on the pair’s vacation, he jumped at it, and not just because he didn’t want Tor to be left alone. He’d get a week of his summer to spend every day with her, knowing Ms. O’Toole would be busier partying and staying out than spending time with her daughter. That always seemed to hurt Victoria, so maybe his presence would lessen that while getting him the opportunity to piece apart if he’d do anything about how pretty she was.

“Well, good thing I got my bodyguard,” she grinned. “Mom’s at Jazz Fest until the end of the weekend. We might see her after, but we’ll probably see her at the airport. We can go to a day or two of the festival, if you wanna.”

“I happen to know a gal that likes the zoo and aquarium here. I got tickets to do the zoo and then take the ferry to the aquarium.” He hoped it sounded like a date, but he knew it wouldn’t to her. Only, it kind of did, and Victoria had butterflies and wasn’t sure how to process them or where to tuck them away.

“Sonny, that’s really, really sweet of you.”

“Gotta make sure you get a good week, Tor.”

When she stretched up to kiss his cheek, they both ducked their heads to avoid the other seeing their cheeks turning pink.

October 2003

“Are you okay, Dom?” she asked him softly. He’d been a mess all afternoon, foot tapping and hands fiddling with the pages of the book he was reading for English. Things had been different since New Orleans. There was a nervous energy that hadn’t been there before, and she found herself catching him blush at things that he hadn’t before. It worried her, but it also excited her because she’d started blushing more too.

“Yeah, just thinking.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“It’s nothing.”

“I’ve known you twelve years, dummy. It’s not nothing. Tell me wha--” Her eyes widened when he cut her off.

“Do you wanna go to homecoming with me?” he asked, the words tumbling out quickly enough she had to process what he’d even said. Then, she was confused, brow furrowing as she looked at him.

“We always go to homecoming together?”

“Yeah. But do you want to, like, go with me? Like to the dance too.”

“Are you asking me to be your date?” Victoria could hear her heart beating in her ears, biting her lip as she watched him. For his part, Sonny didn’t look as much like he was going to throw up as he felt. Was she angry he’d asked? Was she assuming he meant as friends? He’d gone too far to back out.

“Yeah. I realized something when you dated Johnny. I like you a lot, Tor. More than as my friend. When I dated Julia, I kept getting in trouble for hangin’ out with you because I liked you more. She said I was crazy about you and I didn’t think she was right until you were flirting with Johnny and I got jealous. And then we went to New Orleans and I figured I’d realize I didn’t but I just liked you more, and now I probably fucked up our friendship and--”

“Shut up, the answer is yes,” she finally said, cutting him off by grabbing his face between her hands.

“Really?” he asked, smiling broadly.

“Yeah. I like you too, okay? That’s why I hated Julia. But I didn’t want us to mess up our friendship.” He pulled her against him in a hug, this time tighter than usual. Victoria’s arms looped around his neck, and she kissed him sweetly. “Ma!” Bella’s voice rang through the house. “He finally asked her! And they’re kissing!”

“Finally. Leave them be.”

June 2006

“I been basically living with you,” Victoria said, playing with his fingers as they laid in the dorm bed. “What if we moved in together when you find an apartment?”

“Ma ain’t going to handle that until we’re married, Tor. You know that.”

“But we’re going to end up married.”

“I know, but we gotta be married first.”

“Then let’s get married.”

“Doll, I’m supposed to propose.”

“Well, if we get married, when you move into an apartment we can live together, and I know I’m gonna marry you.”

“I know I’m going to marry you too. But what about a ceremony?”

“We could get married at the courthouse. Have a wedding later.”

“We could,” he mused, rubbing her back. “You still planning to go straight to work?”

“Yeah. I want to maybe go to pastry school. But I worked in that bakery the last year. I think I’d be a really good baker.”

“Me too.”

“Well, you willing to run off with me?”

“Gimme a minute,” he said, untangling from her and digging into the lock box under his bed. Victoria watched him, her brow furrowed. When he pulled out a little wooden box and moved to sit by her, her eyes were wide. He huffed, blowing hair from his face. “Ma gave me this last month because I think she knows us getting married is gonna happen. It’s Nonna and Nonno’s rings.”

“So you been thinking about it anyway?”

“Was thinking about proposing in October for our anniversary. But now seems like just as good of a time.”

“You wanna like propose or just be engaged?”

“Well,” he hummed, before giving her the grin she loved so much and setting the little box to the side and taking her hands. “Victoria O’Toole, you’re the best thing in my life. I’ve known you since I was five. And when I kissed you the first time, I knew we were gonna end up married. Our Mas were right. Will you marry me, Tor?”

“Of course, Dominick,” she grinned, tearing up as she pulled him in and kissed him. He fumbled to get the engagement ring from the box, the bands remaining as he slid the ring on her finger.

“Thank God it fits,” he chuckled, hand smoothing her hair back. “Now, we gotta book at the courthouse? Or do we just show up?”

“We book it. And then we go change my last name afterwards.”

“We can go tell Ma and the girls. Getting yelled at for keeping them outta the loop is worth it for this to be just about us.”

“I love you, Sonny.”

“And I love you, Tor.

July 2008

“So, do we stay here? Or do we go back to Staten Island? Or somewhere half way?”

“You’re close to manager at the bakery,” he said, rubbing her back as they laid on the couch. “Are you okay with that commute? I know you love working with Ruth.”

“I really do. And the commute isn’t too bad. I can do it at least a year. And we can get a better place there. Plus, I think being a cop’s gonna make you more tired than being a baker makes me.”

“We’ll start looking. Could be nice to be closer to family too.”

“Yeah,” she smiled softly, brushing his hair back. “Proud of you, Officer Carisi.”

“I don’t think dad and your mom thought we’d be able to get by.”

“We’ve done a damn good job, huh?”

“Been married and on our own two years. I know we got married young, but I’m glad we did. Dad was worried I’d feel like I was missing out, but I get to go out to bars with you. Way better. If we hadn’t started dating, same thing would be happenin’, y’know?”

“Yeah. I like doing all this stuff with you. Makes it better.”

“Good. Because you got like eighty more years, Mrs. Carisi.”

“I better.”

October 2010

“What’re these for?” Victoria asked, kissing Sonny softly as she took the flowers.

“Was doing traffic stops and remembered it’s been seven years today since I got smart enough to kiss ya.”

“You’re a sap.”

“But I’m your sap. Glad you’re still dressed. I’m taking you to dinner.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Doll.”

November 2011

“I thought you could use a little time. Something’s been up with you.”

“I’m fine,” he said flatly, eyes on the road as they drove towards the cabin.

“We can go home if you don’t want to,” she said softly, and he shook his head.

“I want to. I’m excited, doll.”

“Good. It’s your birthday. We ain’t had much time together.”

“I appreciate it. I’m sorry if I’m actin’ weird.”

“It’s okay. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

December 2012

“Sounds like we’re celebrating a lot,” Ma Carisi smiled, hugging her daughter in law. “A birthday and a big purchase?”

“Sonny told ya?” she grinned.

“Bella. I’m so happy for you, Tori. You worked hard for this.”

“Yeah. It’s really nice. Ruth told me she was retiring and I got nervous. Then she said she’d sell the bakery to me, and I thought she was joking.”

“She’s been like family to you. Think she knows it’ll be in good hands.”

“Thanks, ma. And thanks for planning this dinner. We aren’t ever all in the city.” She settled into her seat across from Bella and beside Gina. They all ordered drinks, and, after waiting a little while, appetizers. When the plates came and Sonny still wasn’t there, she excused herself, slipping outside. She dialed his number, cradling it to her ear as she bounced nervously in place.

“Hey, Doll.”

“Sonny, where are you?”

“I just got home. Where are you?”

“Dinner…”

“Shit, I forgot something didn’t I?” She could hear him fiddling with his calendar before he let out a groan. “Tor, I’m so sorry. Work’s just been crazy and-”

“It’s fine,” she said tightly, able to feel his family looking at her through the window. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

“I can come out now.”

“It’ll take you at least an hour, Dominick. We already ordered appetizers. I’ll just see you at home.”

“Okay. we’ll celebrate when you get home.”

“Yeah.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too, Dom.”

May 2013

“I’ll be home after class. I can’t make it home before.”

“Okay,” Victoria nodded, leaning against the counter. “I guess I’ll stay late tonight. Margy wanted to go early anyway.”

“Cool. See ya.”

He hung up, and it jarred her at first. He’d never hung up without an “I love you” and goodbye. She hated the feeling it gave her in the pit of her stomach.

I miss you. Can we have a date soon?

I’ll figure something out.

When she got home, she tried to stay up and wait for him, but she got a text he’d gone back to get some overtime. When she woke up to get ready for work, she let him sleep, heading out and leaving coffee on the warmer.

August 2013

“Hey, I’ll be home late again tonight,” he said down the line.

“Again?” she asked softly.

“I need the OT. And then I have class.”

“Yeah,” she muttered, fiddling with her wedding band. “Will I get to see you sometime soon?”

“You always do?” he said, obviously confused. “Anyway, I gotta go. I’ll see ya.”

And like that, he’d hung up, and she wanted to hurl the phone. Five years in, and it felt like she was losing him. He was working overtime, which she knew they did need. That said, it had been months since they’d spent time together, and even that time was only because they went to Easter at his mom’s house. She’d bought the bakery from Ruth, and there wasn’t any acknowledgement. He’d stopped saying goodbye in the mornings, and their phone calls didn’t end with an “I love you” as they always had.

Can I come stay with you awhile? She texted Rachel, who agreed easily.

“What’s up, Tori?” Bella asked when she answered the phone. “Sonny okay?”

“Same as he’s been,” she said softly, and Bella let out a sympathetic hum. Victoria had always been open with Bella, usually because she’d had a couple of glasses of wine.

“He’s not been himself.”

“He won’t talk to me about it,” she said, tearing up. “He doesn’t even say I love you any more. Bella, I can’t keep running in circles. I can’t do this.”

“Are you leaving?”

“He doesn’t really care if I’m here.”

“He does, Tori. He really does.”

“Then he can come and fix it. I can’t, Bella.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea…”

“I have to.”

“Keep in touch, okay? I want to know you’re okay.”

“I will. I just wanted someone to know.”

“I appreciate that.”

#law and order special victims unit #svu fanfiction #sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi x oc #writing

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