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mercy-burning · 3 years

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Move This Along

Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: After months of waiting, Spencer decides he finally wants to have sex with Reader. Category: SMUT (18+) Warnings: Language, sex (oral sex- female receiving, virgin!Spence, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie) Word Count: 5.6k

Full Request: “...so a smutty oneshot with like virgin!spencer but im talkling like baby spence. and hes super blushy and cute but then when it happens its rlly raunchy and therws a lot of dirty talk. and like reader doesnt work at the bau but theyre close friends. and like she goes out to a bar with him and the team and they tease him so then she takes him home and literally fucks him after a movie or smth idk...” — @mggscumrag

MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST

NOTE: It took me forever to figure out how I wanted to do this, but once I did, it came out so quickly! I hope it’s to your liking 🥰

***

The first time she went out to meet Elle's friends from work, Y/N found herself absolutely nervous, and she wasn't sure why. She was always great with meeting new people, but for some reason, the prospect of meeting her next-door neighbor's co-workers seemed to really do a number on her.

She remembers how anxious she'd been, constantly worrying that they wouldn't like her, not to mention they were all probably super smart and strong and intimidating, just like Elle. Anyone who aided in putting away serial killers, rapists, and other monsters had to be just about the most intimidating personality there ever was.

But as Y/N soon learned, that wasn't quite the case at all.

To be fair, they were all intimidating in their own little ways, though it was really easy to forget about that when she was laughing with them, sharing drinks and stories, and exchanging phone numbers to stay in touch.

That's how she and Spencer had come to be good friends. Despite how obviously shy he was whenever they saw each other, the two of them managed to have conversations on just about everything. It usually happened that he talked and she listened to whatever he was teaching her, but she'd always add on the occasional, "Wow, I didn't know that," or "That's really fascinating." All of which she could tell he was surprised at and appreciated.

And since the first time they met at Elle's birthday party, the night she met the whole team for the first time, they'd been practically inseparable. While Y/N was good friends with the whole team, save for Gideon, who always seemed to like it better by himself, her relationship with Spencer seemed to even surpass the bond she'd built with her neighbor-slash-best friend.

Elle even told her as much one Saturday night, as the two of them were driving to the bar to meet up with everyone for a few drinks.

She'd mentioned it as a joke, but Y/N was instantly apologetic.

Elle only laughed. "Don't apologize. Actually, I think it's good that Reid has another friend outside of work. You're good for him. And you know, I think he has a little crush on you."

Warmth rushed to Y/N's cheeks, and she tried to hide it but failed miserably, causing Elle to give her a knowing smile. "Y—You don't know what you're talking about, Elle, it's not like that."

"Oh come on, it totally is. You give him the light of day when no one else does, he talks about you all the time, and everyone at work knows it."

She paused. "They... do?"

"Of course they do, we're all profilers, but it doesn't take one to see how obsessed that boy is with you. I think you should go for it."

Y/N would have been lying if she said she hadn't thought about asking him out. But in the end she had always figured it was a little weird, being that she was friends with all his and Elle's co-workers and she'd kinda been adopted into their family of sorts. But hearing what her neighbor was saying... She started to think differently about it.

"You really think so?"

Elle nodded. "Absolutely."'

"Okay," she replied with an excited smile. "Maybe I will, then."

A week later and the two of them started dating. Y/N always thinks back to the first few weeks of their relationship, how adorably shy and blush-prone Spencer was, even after they'd been together for some time. They spent almost all their free time together, and it still seemed like he was nervous to be around her. He'd assured her on multiple occasions that that wasn't the case, but Y/N still wondered why he hadn't fully warmed up to being around her.

Especially in public. Oh, in public it was worse. Y/N clung to his arm, and his face immediately got red. What confused her the most, though, was that every time she pulled away to make him more comfortable, he pulled her back in, seemingly desperate to feel her warmth.

In the end she and Spencer had grown to develop their own little communication system for public settings, something to let the other know when something was really wrong, and when to ask if the other was comfortable.

One night everyone was meeting after a rough case somewhere in Denver, and Y/N offered to buy everyone drinks once Spencer had called to tell her they were all back. It wasn't out of the ordinary for her to do that, but it had been a while, so everyone was quick to except. Well, mostly everyone— Gideon as per usual went his separate way, and Hotch was eager to get home and see his family.

Y/N was waiting for them at their favorite bar downtown when she heard a loud squeal that sounded a lot like her name. Sure enough, it was easy to spot a very yellow-clad Penelope Garcia headed straight towards her with her arms stretched out for a hug when she turned around. The smile she adorned was instantaneous as her arms came out a well, embracing Penelope with a large hug that almost knocked the wind out of her.

"I missed you!" she exclaimed, still hugging Y/N and swaying them back and forth a little. "I mean, I know I don't ever travel with the team, but because of that we should hang out more."

"Next time I need some company, I know who to call."

Y/N spotted Spencer then, behind Penelope and patiently waiting for a greeting. She smiled at him and whispered, "Hi," to which Penelope must have heard.

She quickly released her from their embrace and stepped out of the way. "Oh! I'm sorry, I'm keeping you from your boy wonder."

She laughed as she transferred from Penelope's arms to Spencer's. He muttered a little, "Hi," into her hair as she squeezed him and shoved her face into his neck. If she had to bet, he was probably red as a tomato right now with how close her mouth was to his neck—it was his weakness and she knew it. And just to tease him a little bit she quickly kissed up his neck, his jaw, and placed a decent peck on his lips before pulling away and grabbing his hand.

Despite the shy smile and the blush adorning his cheeks, he squeezed her hand tight and kept her at his side like they would die if they weren't touching at all times.

Everyone gave little greetings to Y/N as they all made their way to a large booth near the back. Y/N was sitting on one side with Elle to her right and Spencer to her left, while Derek, Penelope, and JJ sat across from them. Y/N got them all their preferred drinks, and a beer for herself, which Spencer couldn't help but find oddly attractive.

He glanced over at her as she took swigs from the bottle as the night progressed, and for whatever reason the sight made his insides all warm and tingly. And when she used her unoccupied hand to grab his under the table, rubbing gentle circles over the inside of his palm with her thumb, he'd never felt more in love with another person. He wasn't even drinking any alcohol, yet his head swam and his heart soared all the same, every bone in his body humming with euphoria at just the mere thought of her.

He must have been staring a little too obviously, because Derek kicked his leg under the table, pulling him from the lovesick daydream he never wanted to leave.

"I can't tell if those are cute ol' puppy dog eyes or bedroom eyes," Derek laughed, and everyone laughed right alongside him.

"Oh, stop it," Penelope said, swatting his arm. "He's obviously just very in love with her, what more could you need to know?"

"Oh, come on, tell me you're not curious to know how they... operate."

She smacked him harder this time, and everyone laughed.

Knowing her boyfriend didn't really care for the spotlight, especially when it came to their relationship, Y/N squeezed Spencer's hand under the table in reassurance. She drew a question mark in his palm, their signal for, "Are you uncomfortable?" And he responded by drawing an "X" in her palm, their answer for, "No." She laced their fingers together then, and set her beer down.

"Morgan, our sex life isn't any of your business," she stated simply.

Spencer felt his stomach churn at the sentence, if only because said sex life was, as of late, non-existent.

He and Y/N had made out a lot, sure, but the one time they did try having sex, he made it about ten seconds being inside of her before he finished, and since then he'd been kind of embarrassed about it. They only ever made out since then, because before it ever got that far he stopped it, nervous that he'd disappoint her.

And now his non-existent sex life was the topic of conversation, and if anyone picked up on it, he would have felt worse about the whole thing.

So, he didn't stop himself from speaking. "But if you must know, it's great."

Y/N's hand tensed up in his, and she looked over at him, shock marinating in her eyes. To anyone else it would have looked like she was surprised he'd even bring it up, but he knew she was most likely more curious to know why he'd lied about it.

Their friends laughed regardless, Elle adding a curious and joking, "Care to elaborate?"

Ready to change the subject, Spencer shook his head. "Nope."

"Yeah, actually I think we're gonna head out early," Y/N added. Spencer was suddenly worried he'd made her upset, but she rubbed gentle circles into his hand that reassured him everything was okay.

He got out of the booth and Y/N followed, as their friends grumbled.

"Oh, come on, we didn't mean to embarrass you guys," Derek said.

"No, that's not it," Y/N said as she threw on a light jacket. "You just reminded me how much I'd like to operate with my boyfriend since I haven't seen him in a few days, so we're leaving. Have a good night."

Spencer felt searing heat rise to his cheeks as he turned around and ushered Y/N out the door, accompanied by low whistles and claps from their friends.

***

The two of them were sitting on the couch now, Y/N having just set down a couple classes of water.

"Sorry if you wanted to stay," she said quietly, playing with her thumbs. "You know we don't... actually have to operate if you don't want, obviously, I was just looking for something to say..."

"Oh, Y/N, I know. Don't worry about it. Really, I... I was the one who even brought it up, I should have just let you handle it."

She looked up at him with a small smile. "Why.. did you bring it up anyway?"

"Well, I... I guess I just felt embarrassed. And I know what we do together isn't any of their business, but I was just... I really was thinking about how much I love you, and when Morgan brought it up, I felt like I wasn't... living up? To your expectations? I don't..." He sighed, unsure how to properly articulate how he was feeling. "I don't know. I just thought about the last time we tried having sex, and I felt embarrassed about it, that's all."

"Oh, honey," Y/N cooed, scooting closer to him and bringing her hand up to brush some of the hair from his face. "You know, you... don't have anything to prove, right? I know how much you love me, and you don't need to be having sex with me to show me, I hope you know that."

Still, he couldn't bring himself to look at her face. "I do," he choked out, pulling at the hem of his shirt. "I'm... I'm sorry."

Y/N's tongue clicked, and she leaned into him, wrapping one of her arms around his neck and placing the other across his lap. She held him tight and kissed the side of his head. "Don't you ever be sorry, unless you cheat on me. Then there will be something to be sorry about."

He laughed at her joke, turning his head to brush his nose against hers. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered, giving him the lightest of kisses on the lips.

When she pulled away, he leaned in again, kissing her a little harder, and she gladly reciprocated. With every passing second, all of his worries started to melt away like the snow to her sunshine. Within every kiss was an emanation of outpouring love and comfort that warmed his soul and gave him the confidence to try something bold.

His hands threaded through her hair as he drew her in closer, and instinctively, she climbed over his lap, resting her hands on his shoulders as he gently probed her mouth with his tongue. The sound of her sigh as she opened up to him and allowed him to fully explore her mouth with his made his stomach bubble and tense.

This would be about the time where he'd stop, telling Y/N that they should slow down, and she'd sweetly oblige and stay cuddled into his side as they drifted off to sleep.

But tonight he didn't want that.

Tonight he wanted more.

While one of his hands remained in her hair, gently massaging her scalp, the other snaked down to her lower back. He gently slid his fingers under the fabric of her shirt and pressed his palm flat against her, pulling her closer to him with a desperation that both shocked and excited her.

Deciding to test the waters, Y/N rolled her hips, feeling him jump slightly underneath her, followed by a whine that vibrated her mouth and sent a low hum of pressure through her stomach.

Still, she pulled away.

Well... She tried to.

When she pulled her face away from him, Spencer used the hand in her hair to bring her back, tilting his head in the other direction and continuing to kiss her with enough passion for the both of them. And it didn't help that the sound she made when he did it spurred him on. She whimpered loudly into his mouth, and the hand on her back involuntarily slid down to grab her ass.

"Hey," she managed to get out when he pulled away momentarily for air. "Hey, you don't... We don't have to really do this if you don't want. I—I don't want you to think that what happened earlier means we have to have sex."

"Y/N..." His hand gently kneaded her ass, and against her better judgement, she rolled her hips again, sighing out against his lips. "I don't want to put it off any longer... Really, I... I want to. I want to show you how much I love you."

She kissed him softly again, bringing both of her hands up to cradle his face. "You already do. Every day."

She was giving him an out, and Spencer appreciated it. But with the way his insides were practically melting away at her presence, he knew more than anything that this was what he wanted.

"I know," he said. "But if you don't mind, today I'd like to show you a little extra." And then he kissed her deeply again.

Her hands tightened on his face, right before they slid up and through his hair. She gently tugged at it, and he let out one of the most delicious sounds she'd ever heard. For future reference, she relished in that sound, in that feeling, and made a mental note to try it out some more when they got further along in their sexual path.

But tonight, she would let him call the shots. He was finally ready to try it again, and seeing how confident he grew in his touches and kisses when she submitted to him, it was the simplest decision.

So she remained on his lap until he made another move, encouraging him with whimpers and languid rolls of her hips against his. Her hands grew frenzied in his hair when he dipped his hand past the waistband of her jeans and underwear, sticking his fingers in only about a knuckle deep. The warmth of his hands against her bare skin sent shivers down her spine, which she let show by involuntarily grinding down on his lap.

Spencer groaned deeply more than whined this time, his grip on her hands gripping tighter to her backside. He forced himself to remove his mouth from hers long enough to breathe out, "Bedroom. Please."

As much as Y/N didn't want to get off of his lap, she knew that what waited for her in the bedroom would be worth the momentary loss of complete physical contact. So she peeled herself away from her boyfriend, grabbing him by the hand, and lead him to her bedroom.

Once the door was closed, he was on her again, caging her face between his large hands and capturing her lips in another heated kiss. They moved backwards until she hit her back against the door, and the second their movement stopped, Spencer used their standing position to press his full body weight into her, their legs tangling together.

Meanwhile, Y/N was trying to figure out where to put her hands. She wanted to brace them on his chest, but it was pressed tightly against hers. So they wandered over his back, but she couldn't decide whether to place them under his shirt or on his butt. Or maybe she wanted to grip his arms to feel the veins as they strained against his skin from holding her face. The possibilities were quite endless.

So endless that they were even surprising—Spencer noticed her wandering hands and promptly decided to place them where he wanted, which was apparently above her head. He removed his hands from her face and pinned her wrists to the door above her head, and she huffed a breath as he pulled away to speak.

"Is this okay? I wasn't too... too rough?"

The concern swimming in his lust-filled eyes drew a little whimper from her throat as she struggled to find the right words. But finally, she settled on, "That was so fucking hot..."

Relief flashed over his gaze right before he grinned. His fingers flexed against her wrists, and even though she couldn't see them, she could imagine how it looked. And it really was fucking hot.

Seeing the expression on her face, Spencer leaned forward again and kissed her one last time. Their lips moved together hungrily, dancing in perfect synchronization, the music being the frantic beating of their hearts.

And then he started to trail his kisses down her jaw and neck, keeping her hands firmly pinned to the door. Usually she was the one to explore his neck with her tongue and teeth, but this time he wanted to try it for himself. Mirroring what he'd felt her do to him hundreds of times over, he soaked in every single sound she made, from the little whimpers of pleasure to the soft, choked whispers of his name dancing over her lips. And when her hips canted forward, searching for any kind of friction, he decided to grant it to her.

As his kisses moved down along her collarbone, his hands gently slid down with him, over her arms and then down to the bottom of her shirt as he kneeled in front of her. He lifted the shirt slowly, each new inch of exposed skin being met with soft kisses until it reached her breasts. He reached up to palm them over her bra while he trailed his kisses downward again.

Even though she was wearing jeans, he pressed kisses to her legs anyway. She squirmed under his touch, and the feeling made his heart soar.

"Please, Spence," she huffed, bringing her hands down to lay overtop of his. She felt the tendons and veins in his hands as they squeezed her, and with everything she had, she tried not to beg him to use them in more interesting places. She wanted to let him take his time, to be a vessel for his exploration, but it was growing harder every second to be patient.

Thankfully he seemed to get what she was feeling, because his hands slid out from under her shirt and rested at her jeans. "Can I take these off?"

The fact that he even asked when she so clearly begged him to do it made her heart swell. "Please do," she chuckled, though it turned into a choked sigh when his fingers actually started undoing the button. And at the sound of her zipper going down, she could have come undone right there.

He pulled her jeans down slowly and helped her step out of them. And she thought maybe he'd take the next step and do the same with her underwear, but he opted to use his mouth instead.

With gentle kisses, he traced the hem of the fabric all the way to either side of her waist. And then he looked up at her with curious eyes and shifted his face, pressing his nose right up against where her clit would be. Her hands immediately went to his hair, but he grabbed her wrists again and laid them at her sides. "Do you want me to move this along?" His voice wasn't teasing as much as it was genuine curiosity.

Still, Y/N resisted the urge to tell him yes. "I—I want you to do whatever feels right. Tonight's... about you. What you want."

"Well, what I want is to make you feel good. So, again... Do you want me to move this along?"

Every time his lips moved, they brushed up against where she desperately wanted him. And it was killing her. So, she nodded vigorously. "Yes, please," she whispered.

And with that, Spencer released her hands and used his fingers to gently rub her over the fabric. The contact made her shiver visibly, and he took that as a good sign. So he wasted no more time and replaced his fingers with his tongue, fluttering his eyes closed at the taste of her. And he knew that once the thin fabric was gone it would be stronger, but even then he was thoroughly wrecked.

He kept lapping his tongue over her, feeling her panties get wetter with ever second, and he only finally removed them when she started grinding her hips closer to his face, desperate for more.

When he did finally bring his tongue to fully taste her for the first time, they both let out the filthiest sounds, months and months of build-up starting to come to a head. He tasted her like he would an ice cream cone, and for the first few moments his eyes remained closed, all his focus on this brand new sensation. But he wanted nothing more than to see her react to him. So he opened his eyes and continued his ministrations, pupils blowing wide at the sight of her above him.

She was panting, her mouth hung open and her tongue just barely peeking out over her bottom lip. Her eyes remained shut, though Spencer could tell she was struggling to open them. With a tentative flick of his tongue over her clit, he took notice of the little gasp she made, and he knew he'd found it. So he repeated his action, providing small kitten licks to her clit as she picked up her breathing and clenched her hands at her sides.

He picked up the pace then, taking note of every little thing that made her cry out or jump with pleasure until she was clutching his hair. He was sucking on her clit now, his middle finger gently sliding in and out of her when she spoke.

"Oh, fuck, keep doing that. I'm... I'm almost..."

He felt her tighten around his finger as she started careening off the edge, and he did his best to keep his eyes on her face, because it had practically been haunting him, wondering what it would be like to see her come undone at his mercy.

To say it was better than he could have ever dreamed was a severe understatement.

Y/N's head leaned back against the door, her chin jutted out so he could see the beautiful contours of her chin and neck. He saw her throat contract as she moaned out his name, saw her chest heave as she struggled to catch her breath, and best of all, he felt her flutter around his finger and mouth. And if that was high inducing, he couldn't wait to feel wat it would be like to replace them with something else.

The mere thought had him trembling.

He pulled back when she huffed out an over-stimulated, "Okay, please, please stop, oh..."

Though it could just as easily have been a painful sentiment, the hungry, dazed look in her eye suggested otherwise.

Spencer stood up and brought his finger to his mouth, still caught up in her taste before she ripped his wrist away and kissed him, threading her fingers through his hair and moaning into his mouth.

Before he could get lost in it, though, she pulled away and nodded. "Okay. I think you're wearing too many clothes."

He tilted his head down in a little flush, and with the help of Y/N, his shirt peeled away from his body and joined her pants and underwear on the floor.

Y/N mirrored his actions, kissing gently down his jaw, neck, and then down his torso. Her hands wandered his bare back as she sunk to her knees. But when her hands moved to his belt, he stopped her.

"W—wait."

She peeled her hands away and looked up at him. "Are you okay? Do you want to slow down?"

He visibly swallowed, and she could read that look on his face that he got whenever he was embarrassed to tell her something. "N—no, I... I want... the opposite, actually."

"I don't follow..."

"Well, I know that... if you return the favor, I won't last very long, a—and I... I don't want to wait anymore."

Y/N smiled, standing again and bringing her hands to rest on his shoulders. "So you're saying you... want me to move this along?"

Spencer smiled at her recollection of his words. "Yes, please."

They travelled to the bed then, Y/N taking off her shirt and bra when they got there, and leaving her completely bare to him. She sat down and reached for his belt, looking up at him as he stood.

"I'm clean and on birth control, do you still want to use a condom? I have some in my table drawer."

He thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. "As long as you're sure."

Y/N undid his belt quickly and threw it to the side, making work of his button and zipper with a smile. "Oh I'm so sure..."

The way she said it made his dick twitch, images running through his mind of how it would look seeing her filled and dripping with—

Her hand was palming him through his underwear now, and it was all he could think about. He had already been hard before, but now it was tilting on the precipice of painful pleasure. So he stopped her, taking a deep breath.

"Lay down?"

"However you want me," Y/N answered, positioning herself on the bed so she was leaning back, her head nicely laid out on the pillows.

Spencer swallowed and removed his underwear before climbing on the bed and kneeling over her. Her legs were already wide, feet flat on either side of him as he positioned himself and got ready.

She reached out and gently grabbed his forearm, a gentle smile on her face. "You ready?"

"Mhm," he answered with a curt nod, bringing himself forward to run the head of his dick through her wetness. They both sighed at the feeling, and Spencer knew he was in trouble.

It was finally happening, he was getting another chance to have sex with her, and if he didn't last long again, he was going to—

"I love you," Y/N said reassuringly, rubbing circles into the hand that rested on the inside of her thigh.

He looked into her eyes and saw that love radiating from them. It warmed his insides and gave him the confidence he needed to finally, slowly push into her as he whispered, "I love you, too."

Once he was fully sheathed inside her, he let out a large breath, leaning down to brace his arms on either side of her head. The pressure of her clenched around him was overwhelming in the best way possible, and he never wanted to move.

But he had to.

She stroked his hair, pressing soft kisses all over his face, and whispered, "I love you."

With those three words, Spencer had the courage to pull back and then forward again, testing the waters and more accurately, his limits. He picked up a slow pace that burned him from the inside out, every muscle and vein in his body on fire with the knowledge that he was finally, properly making love to the woman he was pretty sure he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

But he was holding back. Y/N could tell. He glided through her with ease, sure, but his eyes were squeezed shut like he was concentrating, like he was pacing himself and trying to hold on to this feeling.

She moved her hands down to his back and lightly ran her fingernails over the skin, feeling him tremble under her touch.

"You feel so good, Spence," she whispered. "So perfect for me..."

The words made his hips stutter just a little, and Y/N knew then what the hesitation was.

He wanted to go faster.

So she moved her fingers lower, cupping his ass and scratching featherlight circles into the skin as she moaned. "You like when I talk to you, baby? Does hearing my voice help you out?"

Spencer choked out a groan as he opened his eyes and saw how feral she looked. Her pupils were blown wide, her mouth was pouted cutely, and she smiled as soon as she saw him bite his lip.

"You wanna go faster?" she cooed, digging her fingernails a little harder into the flesh of his ass. "Hmm?"

"F—fuck, Y/N... I..."

"You fuck me however you need to, baby. Don't hold back. Just let it all out."

He groaned out then, his hips picking up speed. She felt the relief and the tension rolling off his body as he finally gave into his urges, and it was just about the sexiest thing she'd ever witnessed.

"That's it, baby... Don't stop... Give it to me, let me feel you..."

He leaned down and kissed her then, pumping into her harder and harder with every second. She moaned out against his mouth, swallowing all his breaths and grunts. Meanwhile her fingers gripped his ass harder, relishing in the feeling of his muscles as they aided in fucking her.

His mouth pulled away as he shoved his face into her neck, and she sighed. "You're doing so good, baby. Fuck... " His hips kept moving, and she clenched around him hard, hoping to gauge his reaction.

Sure enough, he groaned against her neck and canted his hips harder. Every thrust forward now was so deep he hit her g-spot, and the sensation made her sigh with a smile. "That's fucking right, baby... Just like that, don't stop, don't stop. You fe—el so... ohhh."

Her words lit this fire in him that was impossible to put out. His body was hers for the taking, and so he'd give her everything he had. Which is why he picked up the pace and fucked into her as hard as he could, dangerously close to finishing.

"Fuck, Spence, I'm gonna... —na..."

Y/n's moans turned into a quiet scream as she came, clenching tightly around his dick and digging her fingernails into his ass. Her eyes squeezed shut with the swirling patterns of fireworks exploding behind them, meanwhile he twitched inside of her and lost it at last. As she came down, she helped him hold himself there, deep inside her as his cum spilled over in warm increments. They both moaned out at the feeling, all their tension easing and dissipating.

By the end, all that was left between the both of them was a thin sheen of sweat and murmured promises of "I love you."

They could have fallen asleep right there. Y/N's hands slid up his backside, over his arms, and then to the back of his head, combing gently through his disheveled hair as he pressed loving kisses to the patch of skin where her neck met her collarbone. He was still inside her, unwilling to leave the warmth she provided, and she did nothing to object.

"How are you feeling?" she finally asked, opening her eyes.

Spencer tilted his head up to look at her, his heart once again swelling at the adoring look in her eyes. "I'm great."

She laughed, and he laughed with her. And they were silent for a few moments before he spoke again.

"So, uh... What we just did is what we're counting as our real first time together, right? Like, the other time doesn't count?"

Y/N laughed again, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "If you want to count this as our first time, then yes. I'd be more than happy to agree with you."

"Good. This was much better."

Even though she would never hold their first first time together against him, she was inclined to agree.

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ablednt · 2 years

Note

im not disagreeing with ur gifted kid post, but the way some of ur stuff is phrased can come off in ways u might not have intended. boiling those sorts of unrealistic expectations of very young kids down to "being complimented too much" ignores that a lot of these kids were unfairly placed in these programs and forced to complete them regardless of how much they struggled with it (and that these kids were in prime environments for developing npd due to overinflated ego from a young age). many gifted kids were given extremely unreasonable expectations and only barely managed to meet them in order to avoid facing punishment for failing. im not saying there ARENT gifted kids who dont treat it like "oh i was so special and now im not boohoo :( i need special treatment for it" but i feel like theres some aspects thats have been unintentionally misunderstood (/nm /nonagg!!! ^^ just wanted to bring this up as more of a discussion than an argument, hope ive made sense!)

No I definitely agree but my point is that I've never seen a genuine discussion from these people about this and I'm sure they exist to some capacity but that's Very Clearly not what the community was formed around nor where the term originated. People don't complain that they had expectations on them they just make stupid tiktoks like "teachers seeing a neurodivergent person: omg you're so smart you're my favorite student!!!" and then act like that's 1. universal and not just for palatable NDs and 2. that being complimented by their teachers was the problem and not everything else

I think it's also important to note that the expectations really weren't worse for gifted kids, it's just that gifted kids got closer to reaching those expectations and felt they actually had a chance whereas everyone else was punished automatically for not coming close. The issue is not specific to any one class or type of class it's a widespread issue with academia as a whole.

I genuinely don't think that gifted kids had it any easier than anyone else but I don't think that they had it harder either. Recently someone while venting told me, "I think school is stealing my family from me" because of the extreme expectations put on them and they're definitely not in any kind of gifted kid program, it's literally just as bad and extreme for all of us.

Like and I really don't think it's a coincidence that the times that I've criticized gifted kids and the times that I've challenged academia is when I've gotten some of my most blatantly ableist asks telling me to "just get over [my disability] and read some fucking books" and grasping at whatever straws they can to make me look "unintelligent" (like yeah I totally don't have trauma with academia I'm just mad because [checks notes] I play undertale sometimes and it made me incapable of coherent thought I guess/s)

The community is inherently classist and ableist and whilst they definitely do have trauma from academia it is not any different than the rest of ours, them separating it as some different and unique trauma just because they did better than us so obviously we just Wouldn't Understand their Huge Brains is just so frustrating and gross and I just really wish people would realize that rather than using this as a crutch not to work on their internalized ableism like yeah take trauma processing at your own pace but that doesn't mean you get to make it everyone else's problem.

Also a lot of people are gonna hate this comparison but I frankly don't see a single difference in gifted kids making up terms to say that their experiences are somehow more severe or even all that different to ours cause they're just Built Different and empaths taking widespread issues that affect everyone and acting like they're just sensitive special little souls and we could never comprehend their pain when really it's the same shit like depression, anxiety, etc. that we all live with on a daily basis.

#I do agree with you though that there IS an actual issue #I know that a lot of gifted kids have trauma being treated like spoiled and bratty when they expressed genuine hurt #and I definitely don't share that sentiment it's just that they're going about everything in an incredibly ableist manner #it's in my mind absolutely comparable to the way that ppl who think narc abuse is real weaponize their trauma against ppl with npd #like rather than actually challenging academia in any meaningful way they just spend their time lashing out at disabled and undereducated #people the fact that they do have real problems to worth through doesn't excuse that yk?#not saying that you were trying to make an excuse though it's reasonable to interpret what I said the way that you did

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tuanhood · 4 years

Text

theta

pairing: frat!bambam x reader

genre: smut

warnings: 18+, language, cringey frat stuff, fingering

word count: 4,400+

summary: you haven’t been doing so well in stats, so your tutor - the last person you thought would be teaching you something - recommends giving you an incentive.

a/n: hi guys! i’m a little late... but it’s kinda technically still the weekend? ngl this definitely isn’t my best work and I’m sorry for that because I feel like I’ve been lacking a little bit lately! but i promise that i have a few things in the works that will hopefully be better! but nonetheless enjoY!

“Okay so in a college class, the average IQ is 115. Assuming that the distribution is normal and that the standard deviation is 15. What percentage of the class has an IQ between 105 and 130?”

You felt like you were going to die.

When you were a little girl, you’d fantasize about all the fun and cool things you’d be able to do in college. Stay up late, hang out with your friends all the time, eat whatever you wanted, and take the classes that would help you become the best-selling author you aspired to be.

In all of those daydreams and fantasies, you never pictured yourself in practical agony studying for a statistics class that you never wanted to take in the first place. You were more of an English and critical analysis girl, definitely not a science and math girl. Especially not stats.

You told yourself probably a hundred times throughout the quarter that you could make it through. That you could maybe actually do this, but sometime between weeks three and four you got completely lost and when you received your midterm grade back, you knew you had to ask for help.

“I don’t fucking know,” you exhaled in frustration as you practically slammed your head down onto the table in front of you.

There’s a pause before Bambam lets out a sigh of his own, “let’s come back to that one later then.”

This was how most of your sessions with Bambam went. He’d read the questions out loud to you as if was going to help, hope that you’d be able to solve it – which you typically wouldn’t – and then you’d give up in frustration. Then you’d call it a day.

That was another thing. Another thing that made this whole tutoring thing even worse – you were being tutored by Bambam. As in Bambam of Theta Chi.

As dumb as you felt saying it, but you felt even more pathetic for having to be so terrible at stats that you have to be tutored by a frat boy. Sure he came highly recommended by the people at your school that put together and pair people off for the tutoring sessions, but it didn’t get rid of the pain you felt when you had to tell your friends who exactly was helping you pass stats. Or… at least trying to help.

“Okay, so what is the probability of rolling snake eyes using two fair dice?”

Maybe you were being shallow, but even his voice screamed frat guy and not the master of statistics who is now teaching his peers. You don’t know why but it aggravated you. Traditionally he wasn’t supposed to be good at these kinds of things, someone like you was. It didn’t make sense.

You groaned, your head still on the table, muffled by the surface, “I don’t know? 1/36?”

At your answer, you could feel Bambam straighten up beside you. You had to admit the boy was a trooper for being willing to meet you at your apartment today instead of your usual spot in the library or at Starbucks. You just couldn’t be bothered to make the trek to campus, if you were going to have another agonizing day of probability, deviation, and whatever – it was going to be from the comfort of your living room floor.

“Correct! See Y/N you’re not a lost cause.”

Bringing your head up from the coffee table, you grimace at him, “I never said I was a lost cause.”

His cheeks turned a shade of light pink, clearly embarrassed by his statement, but being the cool and easygoing frat guy, he is – he covers it up, “I know. Dude, I’m just saying, chill.” Leave it to Bambam to cover up any real emotions.

Even though it was frustrating that you were being tutored by a guy in Theta Chi and you felt lame whenever you admitted to anyone, it didn’t necessarily mean that you had anything against Bambam. Before he had started tutoring you, the encounters you had with Bambam were fine – certainly not an “oh my god you are so freaking annoying” situation. They were minimal of course, just a hello or a how are you at various school events or parties. You didn’t hate him, which was why at the beginning between the studying you had tried to talk to him and get to know him. But he never said anything real or authentic – it always felt like he was putting on some kind of ultra-frat boy act for you. Whenever you asked questions about him, things he liked to do, what he was studying or his family he would simply shy away from it and talk about Theta Chi. You didn’t get it.

“Bambam is so freaking deep. I had a two-hour drunk conversation with him at Theta Chi’s party last weekend and my mind has been opened.” Your friend had told you when you told her about him tutoring you.

So what? Did he have to be drunk to want to talk to you about something other than probability? Or was it just that he didn’t want to talk to you? You couldn’t put your finger on it, but it bothered you a little too much for some unexplainable reason.

“I am chill,” you confirmed with him – a bit too bitterly. You couldn’t tell if your annoyance came from the ongoing frustration of not understanding stats regardless of how many times you’ve met with Bambam or the fact that he was constantly shying away from you two actually getting to know each other.

“Well…” he began suddenly, swallowing almost nervously, “what if we work on a rewards-based system?”

You scoffed at him, “what am I? A child?”

“Do you want me to answer that? Listen… all I’m saying is that rewards or a prize can be a good motivator sometimes. It definitely can’t hurt the studying process.”

There was a part of you that felt annoyed at Bambam for thinking that the only way that you were going to understand any of this was through some kind of incentive. An incentive that had nothing to do with your overall goal which was to not fail the class. However, you had to admit you were curious as to what Bambam could bring to the table when it came to “rewards,” so you decided to play along – for now.

“What kind of motivators are we talking about?”

For a second you swear you see Bambam fidget nervously in his seat, but it happens so quickly, you’re sure it must be your brain playing a trick on you, “I don’t know… I’m literally the co-social chair of Theta Chi so I pretty much can get you whatever you want. Booze, drugs… sex.”

At his last “category” for rewards, your interest is peeked, but not in a weird or perverted way – you swear, “what the social chair orchestrates and plans sexual encounters now?”

He laughed and shakes his head, “definitely not. I’m just saying… If there was anyone you were interested in at Theta Chi… I could probably set it up for you. I mean you’re definitely not bad looking so I don’t think it would be difficult.”

You were half pleased by Bambam’s compliment and intrigued that by the fact that it seemed like perhaps his “non-tutoring” personality was emerging from the surface. It caused you to push more regarding his “reward” if it meant that you could see more of it, “So what? I solve the next equation and I get to fuck Im Jaebeom? Is that how this works?”

He clicked his tongue, “Jaebeom, huh? Wouldn’t have thought he would be your type.”

For some reason, you suddenly felt a wave of nervousness rush through your body and you feel defensive as though you have to explain yourself for some reason, “No- I mean it was just an example.”

Bambam nodded his slowly and looked away from you for the first time since he brought up the incentive thing. His focus goes back to the textbook in front of both of you, “It’s okay if he is. Jaebeom’s a chill guy.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, for a moment there you almost got a hint of something from him. You weren’t quite sure as to what, but it almost felt like he was… jealous? But then he has to cower away and go back to stats… That was technically why he was sitting in your living room, but right now this seemed like the least important thing going on.

“What is it with you and chill? Does everything need to be chill? Why can’t you just be… normal?”

He laughed at your query, “What if being chill is normal for some people?”

You grabbed the pencil in front of you and tapped it on the table rhythmically in thought, “Chill people aren’t masters at stats. That’s just a fact.”

Bambam’s face goes into fake shock, “really? Damn well, I guess that’s why you haven’t learned anything the last month that we’ve been doing this.”

It’s obvious that it was meant as a playful dig, to tease you, but Bambam feels his heart race when you simply frown in response instead of laugh. It was clear that he had gone too far. This was the thing he had been most worried about this entire time he had been tutoring you.

He had heard from one of his brothers in Theta who knew a friend of yours that you felt embarrassed by being tutored by a frat guy – by him. Hearing that certainly didn’t make him feel good, but he tried his best to help you the last month or so. He didn’t want to do or say anything that could allude to “frat guy” behavior – so most of the time he tried to keep conversations statistics related. Part of him felt like it was because he was offended by your embarrassment, but another part of him felt like it was maybe because he wanted to impress you. He wanted to prove that he wasn’t the typical frat guy because you probably didn’t like that.

But he had to admit… in certain ways, he was the typical frat guy and restricting that part of himself meant restricting segments of his personality. The teasing – that was apart of it.

“Shit – y/n I’m sorry I didn’t actually mean it. I meant it more like-”

At his quick and panicked response, you burst out into a fit of giggles, “dude I can be chill too. I was just fucking with you. Now come on… let’s keep working, I want my prize.”

Bambam lets out a sigh in relief. Maybe he had misjudged you, “so you do want a reward?”

“Of course, I want a reward.”

He licked his lips in thought and you have to admit it’s hard not to stare, “okay what should we start with?”

You began to tap the pencil on your chin instead of the table, thinking about what exactly it was you wanted. When you finally have your grand prize in mind, you figure it’s better to start small.

“I don’t want to be charged cover at any future Theta Chi parties.”

He looked at you with surprise written on his face, “you go to our parties?”

You rolled your eyes at him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, he can’t help but admire how cute you look when you do it, “of course. They’re the biggest parties on campus… why wouldn’t I go?”

Bambam shrugged, “I just didn’t think you liked frat stuff…” drifting off he looks to see the confusion written on your face and he doesn’t know why, but for some reason, he feels the need to keep talking, “Unless it’s for Jaebeom.” Immediately he wants to punch himself in the face for his continual teasing.

You thought it was funny how he was stuck on the Jaebeom thing. You had just said his name as an example – something you already explained to Bambam – but for some reason, it seemed to bother him. Bambam was more your type than Jaebeom, but it would have been weird if you had brought him up as an example.

“What was that?”

His voice causes your body to jolt up in surprise. Had he heard you? No way.

“Y/N what did you just say?” Bambam asked once again.

The second question regarding what you had just said sends you into a frenzy, considering he was the last person who had just said something based on your recollection. Therefore… he fucking heard you.

“Did I say that out loud?” You asked embarrassed and judging on the look on Bambam’s face – you have your answer.

You felt your mouth go dry, “I- shit… Bam I didn’t mean- Well I mean I did, but- Fuck I-” you cut off your stuttering with nervous laughter and you feel more awkward than you’ve probably ever felt in your adult life.

Rather than saying anything, Bambam looks at you curiously. A hint of a smile appears on his face but soon disappears as if he’s thought of an idea or just something. Hopefully, an idea to get me out of this, you think to yourself. Instead, he scoots closer next to you on the floor and for a moment you have to remind yourself to exhale.

“Instead of the cover as your reward… What about…” he begins, placing his right hand onto your thigh, “this? Is this okay?” If you had to keep your breathing in check just when he moved closer to you, then you felt like you were going to need to be resuscitated now.

Rather than verbally answering, you nodded your head, afraid to open your mouth in case the wrong thing came out.

Keeping his hand placed firmly on your thigh, he asked you the next question, “Suppose X and Y are independent random variables. The variance of X is equal to 16; and the variance of Y is equal to 9. Let Z = X – Y. What is the standard deviation of Z?”

It’s becoming harder to concentrate. All you can focus on is the placement of his hand on your thigh and when you don’t answer right away, he begins to move it up and down your leg.

“Come on, I know you can do this one,” he said softly.

You couldn’t believe that your tutoring session was now taking a sharp turn – a turn that you had to admit you were now craving – but Bambam was still expecting you to be focused enough to answer questions. You weren’t able to typically do it even when you didn’t have his hand on you.

It’s almost as though you’re on autopilot as you put your pencil to paper and work out the problem. The only thing on your mind is the curiosity of what his next move will be if you answer him correctly.

“5?”

He gives you your answer by drifting his hand up your thigh until it sits at the top of your thigh, dangerously close to your core. You wonder if he can tell how damp you’ve become, even with the sweatpants you’re wearing. It was probably evident just by looking at your face.

“A coin is tossed three times. What’s the probability that it lands on heads exactly one time?”

This was becoming frustrating. How the fuck were you getting turned on by him asking you stats questions? You felt like your brain was about to explode with how completely mixed up it felt. The cause of your stress for the entire quarter was now the cause of you being turned on? Your mind was currently rewiring itself.

For this question, it takes you some time to focus enough to work it out and calculate. Bambam who is usually patient with you when you struggle, has instead been replaced with a much more impatient version of himself as he slips his hand up to the waistband of your sweatpants, delicately playing with the top to tease you, you suddenly wished you would have worn better underwear for what’s about to happen. If you could answer the question that is.

Just as you feel as though you’ve come to the end of the problem, you feel him dip a single finger underneath the top of the band, rubbing it softly against your stomach. It causes your hand to slip up on the paper, drawing a line right through your problem.

“What’s wrong?” He asked innocently, completely aware of what he was doing to you, “do you need help?”

You shook your head in response, unable to say anything. It was becoming more and more difficult to even get your hand to move fluidly on the paper. It was instead starting to get more jagged. Your fives were beginning to look more like threes. When you’ve finally solved the problem, you find yourself pointing at the paper for Bambam to look at your answer. He laughed.

“Correct again. You’re doing so well,” he murmured as he finally dips his hand beneath the band of your sweatpants and down to your panties. You sucked a deep breath in, waiting in anticipation for his next actions, feeling him so much closer to where you need him the most, but instead, his hand just rests there, over the material.

Letting a very out of character whine escape your lips causes him to chuckle. “Do you think you can have your reward that fast? No, no,” he tutted, “you have to finish answering all the questions like a good girl.”

You try so hard to remember the next question he asks, but he soon begins gently rubbing you through your panties and it makes you want to kill him for playing so dirty. How were you able to solve any problems when it felt like an actual ocean was forming in your underwear? You knew Bambam could feel it too with the way his gaze on you got even darker, one of his fingers wandering to the side of your panties, playing with the hem but not daring to slip underneath.

What the fuck was the question?

“Having trouble angel?”

He doesn’t give you time to answer – even if he did you weren’t sure you’d be able to provide him with one – instead, he slips his hand underneath your panties until his fingers find your entrance, slowly stroking up and down. You let out a moan when he’s left his index finger on your clit, rubbing small circles around the bundle of nerves.

“It can’t be that hard to remember a simple question. Is something distracting you?”

Another sigh of pleasure is released from you when he presses down a bit to place more pressure on your clit, “I’ll ask you one more time. You have to remember this time or you lose your reward, okay? Are you listening?”

Nodding your head, he smiled, ��The standard normal curve is symmetric about 0 and the total area under it is 1. True or False?”

Bambam himself was losing his patience, he so badly wanted to bring you to your release and see how tight you get around his fingers, how much you ask him for it. He had to admit that wasn’t the original question he had asked you, but at this rate, he just wanted to ask you the easier questions so both of you could get what you wanted.

“T-True?” You managed to stutter out.

“Doing so well for me,” he whispered into your ear at your response. The teasing had been so achingly painful that when he finally fully inserts his pointer finger you feel like a kid on Christmas. You feel as though you can finally let out the breath you had been holding in since he started the taunting.

The pace he starts with is clearly another method to get you worked up – which you certainly are – but you also felt thankful that at least it was something compared to the nothing you were getting from him previously. When he curls his finger, hitting you in the spot that drives you crazy, you felt your body instinctively jerk forward in surprise. He had found it so fast and with such ease, you wondered if the two of you had down this before in another life.

“Bam, I-” you begin, but as his thumb draws circles over your clit, you ultimately lose your train of thought and fall even closer into him, until your head is resting on his shoulder.

“There’s one more question left… Do you think you can handle it?”

The whimper you let out sounds borderline inhumane and in any other situation you would be frustrated with yourself for giving in so quickly, but right now you didn’t care. All you needed was him to keep going – to really give you your reward. The noise is enough for him to dive into the last question and you feel like you’re gonna pass out at the way he begins to rhythmically tap your clit, his finger now going stagnant.

His eyes drift down to the textbook on the table, gazing through which questions on the page are still viable to be asked. After a moment he locks eyes with you, the tapping still consistent.

For a moment he looks shy and despite his previous teasing, you feel your heart leap out of your chest in deep want and longing. It’s a weird feeling you have to admit, but somehow it feels just right.

“What’s the probability of you going out on a date with me after this?” Bambam blushed when he asked you his query and for some reason, he feels so small being in front of you – asking this – despite his current position with his hand in between your legs.

You, on the other hand, have no trouble answering this final question. The question that’ll get you your reward and perhaps something else entirely.

“Without a doubt, 100% chance.”

The smile that emerged on his face is so big, you take a picture of it in your mind, wanting to keep it safe and bottle it up to view later, a hundred times over.

He slipped in another finger, watching your face as it contorts into even more pleasure, “there we go.”

You felt a groan arise in your throat as soon as he began to pick up the original pace of his sole finger. With both of them curling and pumping in and out of you, you felt even more overwhelmed than before. Bambam smirked, taking in your tightly shut eyes, “Good?” Opening your eyes, you felt your climax right around the corner, only able to moan his name in response to his question. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured, leaning in to place his lips on your own.

Somehow, the pace of his fingers only increased, practically fucking into you over and over, hitting your g-spot each time. Even though you were sat on the floor, already mostly leaning onto Bambam for support, you still felt as though you could melt into the floor. With a final few pumps that hit your sweet spot and his thumb still massaging your clit, you feel your walls tighten around his fingers. “That’s it, good girl,” he said against your lips.

Soon you fall apart, feeling as though there’s no breath left in your body, your body falling practically limp at your release around Bambam’s fingers. He takes a moment to slip his hand out from between your legs and you don’t ignore the feeling you get in your core again when he slowly places his fingers in his mouth.

You groaned, feeling like you were practically in a sedative state at how relaxed your release made you feel, “do you have to do that?”

Bambam narrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “what do you mean?”

“Be so damn seductive.”

The two of you look at each other before bursting into laughter at your very serious confession. After a moment when it’s silent you look down at your lap to realize that somewhere during your encounter with Bambam, your sweatpants managed to slip down to the bottom of your thighs.

“I should probably go get cleaned up…”

Bambam coughed awkwardly and turned to his things on the coffee table, “yeah… I guess I should probably just get my stuff together too and get out of your hair.”

Get out of your hair? Who the fuck says that Bam? He asked himself.

You looked at him with confusion, “I thought you were taking me out? Remember? 100% chance? I mean… unless you didn’t mean it…”

His eyes went big, “No!” he exclaimed, “I definitely meant it! I just didn’t know if maybe you said it in the moment and- Or I don’t maybe you did mean it- but also if you didn’t that’s cool. Just so you know I would have still given you your- uh reward if you had said no- Sorry I’m rambling. I ramble when I get nervous.”

When he stops talking, he instantly avoids your gaze. This was the Bambam you wanted to see. This display of authenticity made you feel as though the curtain had finally been drawn.

“I said it because it was true. The likeliness was 100%. Give me like 15 minutes and I’ll be ready to go,” just as you’re about to head to the stairs, you stop yourself and remember why the two of you were even here in the first place, “shit stats…”

Instantly, Bambam shakes his head, “if you think we’re going to go back to probability, standard deviation, and bullshit right now after what just happened you are very mistaken. We’ve done enough… work for today.”

Smiling, you nodded your head in confirmation and begin to go up the stairs to your room. Considering something, you find yourself stopping on the third stop, turning towards the living room where Bambam looks up at you with his head cocked to the side.

“You picked easier questions towards the end on purpose, didn’t you?”

He let out a laugh and grinned – another smile that you decided to file away in your memories, something that you figured might soon become a regular part of your life.

“Let’s just say that I wanted to give you your reward as much as you wanted to have it.”

#got7 smut #got7 fanfic #got7 #bambam #bambam smut

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adam-memeleri · 3 years

Text

Imperfections

it may not be foreign affairs anymore, but its still ayna day in my heart 😔❤️. thanks @gay-dinosaur-banana-milk-carton for the prompt again, i threw in some angst this time cuz i like pain :) kinky

no idea when anything takes place, but im aiming for during the fake relationship i think ?? who knows tbh

tagging -@bubblelaureno @lookingforsomethingcuzimbored @swimmingshoebakerydreamer @alccaddsccup @cardinalnuggets

if you do or do not wanna be tagged

Masterlists shameless self promotion lmao

T Rating (uhhhh i think hurt/comfort? primarily? idk man)

Ayna x MC (Kennedy, they/them)

~2k words unedited but thats nothing new now is it?

Ayna’s fingers fasten a necklace clasp behind her neck, every movement careful and precise as she readies herself. They move to her hair, fixing it for the nth time, just to assure it’s perfect.

It has to be perfect, all of it. Every hair, every pore, every fine detail - it’s all been carefully thought through for weeks now, for this one specific date.

Valentine’s Day.

The end all be all, at least this year. She’s never given it much thought before, but she’s never really had a reason to. Until this year. Until this crazy, wild, borderline disastrous year. Until the day Kennedy stumbled into her class, all smiles and longing looks.

Until she spent days looking forward to coffee house meetups, until short texts could make her whole day, until every class was an excuse to share a small smile. And, unfortunately, until those meetups were forced to end, until those texts stopped coming, until class was just a reminder that even smiles were dangerous.

But not today. She had a plan today, a foolproof, perfect plan. No planned meetups, no trackable texts, nothing too out in the open. And she’d be damned if it failed.

She turns from the hanging mirror, shrugging on a jacket and tugging on a nice pair of shoes before straightening. Her reflection stares back at her, carefully done makeup and slightly askew glasses. She quickly adjusts them, tucking back one last strand of hair.

With one last glimpse at herself, she grabs the bouquet of roses she picked out earlier in the day, bright red petals resting on her table. And with that she leaves, exiting her building and venturing onto Vancross campus.

She eventually steps out onto one of the many winding paths leading through the school’s grounds, carefully making her way to the expansive library settled in one corner of campus. It’s familiar warmth shines through the windows, yellow lights on even in the darkening night for cramming and over enthusiastic students.

Ayna’s fingers tighten over the door’s handle, tugging it open as a small, excited grin overtakes her lips. She steps inside, flowers poised in her hands regardless of how cheesy they may be, and scans for

They’re with her. Sitting with her, talking with her, laughing with her. They’ve been doing everything with her, and today’s no different. Today’s not special, not exempt, not reserved for Ayna.

Huddled close at a table, books spread before the pair as they whisper, heads so close. Arms touching, smiles wide, chairs so close. They’re so close, that’s all Ayna can think about as she simply stands there, all her previous excitement evaporating from her body.

And they don’t even notice her. Kennedy’s gaze doesn’t flicker in her direction in the way it always does. Their cheeks don’t flush when they’re caught like they always do in the lecture hall. Their hands don’t fidget with barely contained nerves, atop the table, a pen twirling between anxious fingers.

Their gaze is glued to Evelyn’s features, their cheeks dust in a blush from her words, their hands are relaxed as they lean against her shoulder. They don’t even notice Ayna.

She turns on her heel, quickly rushing out the library’s front doors and into the dusk settled around campus. Her heels clack with some strange anger, some swirling in the pit of her gut as her fist clenches, crushing the bouquet she spent so long picking out.

And all for naught. This is all for naught, that’s the worst part. The outfit, the shoes, the hair and makeup - all for absolutely nothing.

She stalks to a trash can resting beside the pavement, glaring down at it with pale knuckles and a furrow in her brow. She breaks, like a glass hitting concrete. She breaks, stuffing the ridiculous flowers into the bin over and over again, until she’s just needlessly exerting herself, needlessly scratching herself on discarded thorns.

Little nicks on her skin, tiny imperfections to ruin it all. A visual of her failings, a marking to remind her of this disastrous night. A brand forged without fire, one that’ll remain in the morning, even after she’s washed off the rest of tonight. Even when the mascara and curls and jacket are discarded in the next few hours, the cuts will stay, at least for a few days.

She breaks once more, from the trash bin as an angry and hurt tear slips down her cheek. A crumpled fist hurriedly wipes it away, before she’s stamping down the paved path once more, shoulders tight and expression pinched.

“Hey! Ayna!” a voice rings behind her, out of breath as quick footsteps draw closer and closer. “Hey,” a hand softly grasps her sleeve, a smiling face slipping into her line of sight.

“Hey,” she mumbles back, her gaze trained on the pavement beneath her feet, feet that haven’t once halted.

Kennedy slows by her side, falling into step with her easily. “Tatum said he saw you come into the library then leave, what’s up?”

Ayna’s shoulders lift in a halfhearted shrug, slumping with an exhale. “Nothing.”

“You sure? You seem kinda… distant.”

“I’m fine.”

“Well, okay,” Kennedy relents, head swiveling as they search for something to occupy her attention. “Um, happy Valentine’s!” Their hands clap together excitedly, expression alight with a beaming smile. “I wanted to call you or something earlier, but Winston was hovering over me all day and I don’t know… You’re usually busy this time of night and I didn’t want to bother you.”

Ayna shrugs again, her hands fisted in her pockets. “I’m not busy.”

“Really? Then let’s do something!”

Her gaze snaps up, shock sparking throughout her mind. “What?” she blanks, stopping in her tracks to further scrutinise Kennedy.

“Yeah!” Kennedy’s grin is brilliant, even in the low light, before they glance about the quad. Their hands slip into Ayna’s, fingers tangling with hers, before they’re tugging her along, away from the light posts and travelled paths.

She’s led past the bushes, to a secluded bench, empty branches hanging above it, stretching from a large tree. A soft breeze stirs them, whistling through the leafless wood.

“Okay,” Kennedy starts, sucking in a deep breath. “So I know this is super late, and I don’t really know how to go about this, but…” they meet her eyes, hope glimmering within, “would you, Ayna Seth, do me the honour of being my Valentine?”

She blinks. Not a single other muscle moves, her breath halts in her lungs, her brain malfunctions entirely, and the only thing she can do is blink. Again. And again.

“...Ayna?” Kennedy squeezes her hands where they still rest in theirs.

“You really… Really?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ve been trying to find a good time for ages, so I figured… Are you bleeding?”

“What?”

“You’re bleeding! Your hands!” they grip her forearm, tugging her down to the bench, where they carefully cradle her hands in their lap. Their fingers hover over her skin, not sure what to do as they send uneasy glances up to Ayna’s eyes.

She inspects the scratches now, all of them shallow and mostly painless. “It’s just a few cuts,” she mumbles, Kennedy’s panicked gaze quieting her.

“What happened?” they whisper, as if worried the volume of their voice could inflict further damage.

“I, um -” Ayna steals her hands back, folding them in her lap to hide them. “The flowers,” she worries her bottom lip between her teeth, “They had thorns.”

“You should be more careful.”

“Okay,” she nods, still biting her lip.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“You’ve been wanting to ask me out?” They speak at the same time, concern brimming in Kennedy’s eyes and disbelief in Ayna’s.

A grin quirks Kennedy’s lips as they settle against the bench, arm draped over the back. “I asked first.”

“Barely,” Ayna chuckles lighty.

“Still got there first.”

Ayna shakes her head in exasperation, a fond smile lifting her lips. Before it all falls away, replaced by a crease between her brows. “I, um,” she shifts in her seat awkwardly, struggling for the words. “I don’t think I’m as comfortable with the fake relationship as I thought I was…”

“Okay,” Kennedy answers quickly, easily.

“What?” she balks, jaw working for words. “Are you sure?” is all she manages.

“Of course,” they chime, just as quickly, as easily. “If you’re jealous or uncomfortable, I’ll do whatever I can to put a stop to it.”

Ayna’s jaw snaps shut, a frown curving her mouth, “I’m not jealous.”

“Oh really?” Kennedy’s voice hums, a teasing lilt to it.

“I’m not,” Ayna’s frown deepens.

“Okay…” they hum again, leaning closer as their voice lowers. “So you’d have no problem with me, say, asking out Evelyn for real?” Their eyebrow raises, head cocking to the side. “Or what about Blaine? Maybe Zaira…?” they tap their chin thoughtfully.

Ayna starts, “Don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” her voice tapers off, replaced by the bouncing of her leg and the picking of a nail.

“You’re jealous?” Kennedy supplies with an amused smile.

Ayna deflates, sighing heavily, “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Being… jealous,” she almost spits the word, distaste heavy on her tongue and sloshing in her stomach.

Kennedy shifts closer, their body warm against Ayna’s in the cool night air. “Don’t be. It’s normal, it’s fine,” they take her hand, their palm covering tiny cuts, tiny imperfections with warmth and comfort. “I’d get jealous if you were walking around with someone too.”

“You’re not weirded out by it?”

“No, it’s normal,” They squeeze Ayna’s hand, thumb brushing lightly on her skin. “It’s human. You’re human.”

“I still don’t like it,” she scowls, eliciting a nudge and smirk from Kennedy.

“That’s fine, too,” they reassure, a more serious expression taking over. “So what happened with the thorns?”

“I got you roses,” Ayna’s cheeks flush dark, “Even though I know it’s lame, and then I kinda, uh, threw them out.”

A wide grin breaks across Kennedy’s face as they sidle up against Ayna, throwing their arm over her shoulder. “One:” they count off on the hand resting over her shoulder, “that’s adorable, and two: why’d you toss them?”

She doesn’t move beneath their arm, sitting stiff and rigid, her voice the same, “I got jealous and ruined them. I wanted tonight to be perfect, it was supposed to be perfect, and I ruined it.”

“Stop that. You didn’t ruin anything,” Kennedy scolds. “I told you, jealousy’s human. And I tend to like the things about you that make you human. It’d be weird if my Valentine was a robot,” they tease, nudging Ayna until she joins them in smiling.

She finally faces them fully, her own eyebrow jutting upwards, “I never said I’d be your Valentine.”

“You didn’t, did you?” Their arm retracts, leg folding on the bench as their body rotates towards hers. Their palms clasp in their lap as they lean forward, a smirk on their lips. “So what’ll it be, Ayna? Be my Valentine? My perfectly imperfect Valentine?”

She chuckles, shaking her head as she finally relaxes, the teasing familiar. “That doesn’t make any sense,” she smiles softly, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind her ear, unbothered by it.

“It does if you turn off the robot brain,” Kennedy lightly taps Ayna on the nose, laughing when her face scrunches.

“The robot brain is a part of the Valentine’s package.”

Kennedy squints, eyes roving over Ayna’s features. The askew glasses, the smudged lipstick, the flyaway hairs. “Are the roses also a part of it?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Then I’m all in,” they grin, just as infectious and brilliant as always. “So? Valentines?” they prod, wiggling their eyebrows playfully.

Ayna smiles softly back, scratched hands rising to cup Kennedy’s cheeks and close the already shrinking distance between them. “Valentines,” she murmurs against their lips, a whispered promise. Before they meet, light and soft and full of the light that’s held beyond the bushes.

#tbh this is probably a *bit* ooc but i just wanted angst so whatever #ayna seth #ayna x mc #playchoices #choices fanfic #i think i had something else to say but i forgot so just imagine a thumbs up with a really awkward smile instead :)

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aj28gaming · 3 years

Text

NAGITO IS THE ULTIMATE HOPE AND NOT A DARK VERSION OF MAKOTO

DISCLAIMER: BEFORE GOING AND READING THIS POSTS

GO TO THESE POSTS THAT I HAVE MADE ON NAGITO

https://aj28gaming.tumblr.com/post/651428482060009472/im-the-second-anon-who-refuted-your

https://aj28gaming.tumblr.com/post/651424210287214592/id-also-like-to-counter-what-you-said-about

https://aj28gaming.tumblr.com/post/651239171743268864/nagitos-diagnosis

https://aj28gaming.tumblr.com/post/650253889519632384/hajime-and-nagito-are-the-same

https://aj28gaming.tumblr.com/post/650633399392944128/nagitos-dementia-and-misuse-of-information

https://aj28gaming.tumblr.com/post/650577508025155585/danganronpa-messing-up-nagitos-character-cuz

TRUST ME WHEN I SAY THESE POSTS EXPLAIN NAGITO AND MY POINT A LOT BETTER AND WILL HELP YOU GET A BETTER UNDERSTANDING OF MY I THINK NAGITO IS THE ULTIMATE HOPE

THEN AFTER, COME BACK TO THIS POST

Holy shit Nagito is actually ultimate hope

Like seriously, he has experienced the most despair due to his luck cycle, the biggest being the killing game since it's literally his personal hell which is why he went crazy

But no matter the despair he experiences or goes through, he never gave up on hope

Even in Ultra Despair Girls where he is literally a remnant of despair, he still believed in hope, help Komaru and Toko, and even made sure Komaru became the hope of Towa City and help conquer the despair

He even managed to get Monaca to give up on despair in the anime (but ignore this part kinda cuz the anime is shit but whatevs)

Even then, he never gave up on his resolve

He is even every possible definition of the word

hope /hōp/ 📷Learn to pronounce

noun 1. a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen. "he looked through her belongings in the hope of coming across some information" Similar: aspiration, desire, wish, expectation, ambition, aim, plan, dream, daydream, pipe dream, longing, yearning, craving, hankering 2. ARCHAIC a feeling of trust. "our private friendship, upon hope and affiance whereof, I presume to be your petitioner" verb want something to happen or be the case. "he's hoping for an offer of compensation"

He never gave up on the Ultimates, especially Hajime, and always had hope and faith in them that they could overcome despair. Even despite knowing they were all remnants of despair, he still had hope for them. He even gave them the video that would help them in their escape

He always believed in Hajime and admired his resolve and leadership throughout the killing, even after finding out he was Izuru he still held him in his heart

He still loved Hajime, despite practically being everything he should hate: no talent and despair

He also had hopes for Komaru, despite being in despair and being a remnant, he still believed in Komaru despite her literally having no talent and helped her become the hope of Towa City

And Nagito's high accuracy at knowing everyone's hopes and despairs is seriously amazing and terrifying at the same time

He knew Teruteru wanted to continue the culinary legacy and help his mom, that’s his hope

He knew Imposter would want to protect everyone no matter what, that’s his hope

He knew Mikan killed for Despair, that despair being Junko Enoshima

He knew Fuyuhiko’s hope is Peko and that both of them care about each other very much

He knew how similar he and Hajime are and how they are both bystanders and lovers of Hope, for Hajime that Hope being Hope’s Peak academy itself and/or having talent

He knew Toko wanted to save Byakuya, that was her hope at the start of UDG

Despite all he has been through, he never gave up on hope or any of the people he has believed in and always remained devoted to hope

Even his actions in SDR2 were actually a lot less bad than everything everyone else did.

In the first trial, he wanted to sacrifice himself as the first victim so no one else has to die, that's why he made sure he was gonna be killed especially since he knew someone would kickstart the killing game regardless

It fails of course due to his luck cycle

And throughout the rest of the game, Nagito has been nothing but helpful to everyone especially Hajime especially when it came to the trials. He believed in everyone and always tried to help Hajime gain the spotlight and recognition he deserves by constantly complimenting and admiring him while also giving hints in the trials

The only time Nagito tried to hurt everyone was when he found out everyone was a remnant of despair

DANGANRONPA LITERALLY HAD TO MAKE ALL OF THE ULTIMATES, AND HAJIME, A BUNCH OF TERRORISTS THAT COMMITTED A WHOLE LOT OF DESPAIRFUL ACTS AND CAUSED CHAOS THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE WORLD IN ORDER FOR NAGITO TO GIVE UP ON THEM

AND EVEN THEN, NAGITO DIDN'T FULLY GIVE UP ON THEM AND HELPED THEM ESPECIALLY WITH THE VIDEO HE MADE

HE EVEN LEFT EVIDENCE IN HIS FUCKING ROOM

SURE HE DID WANT THEM DEAD, BUT EVEN HE WASN'T FULLY INTO DOING IT

THIS MAN IS FUCKING AMAZING

HE WILL NEVER STOP BELIEVING IN PEOPLE

HE IS LITERALLY EVERY FUCKING DEFINITION OF HOPE

HE HAS ONLY DONE 2 THINGS IN SDR2 AND THEY ARE DEFINITELY FUCKING VANILLA COMPARED TO THE THINGS EVERYONE ELSE DID

ESPECIALLY HAJIME WITH HIS STUNT THAT HE ALMOST DID IN CHAPTER 6 WHICH IS THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE AND A LOT WORSE THAN NAGITO TRYING TO KILL A BUNCH OF TERRORISTS

AND THOSE 2 THINGS HE DID ARE ALSO TWO OF THE MOST SELFLESS AND HEROIC THINGS ANYONE HAS EVER DONE IN A FUCKING KILLING GAME

HE WILL NEVER BREAK HIS RESOLVE AND DEVOTION TO PRACTICALLY ABSOLUTE GOOD, AND DAMN IS HE COMPLETELY RIGHT IN THAT REGARD

HOLY SHIT, THIS GUY IS SERIOUSLY A FUCKING LEGEND

AND NO HE IS NOT CRAZY, ALL THE OTHER CHARACTERS DID WAY WORSE THINGS THAN HE DID ESPECIALLY HAJIME

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cassyapper · 3 years

Text

OKAY IVE ACTUALLY PLAYED TWO SESSIONS SINCE MY LAST POST SO IM GONNA COMBINE THEM HERE SORRY FOR THE LENGTH BUT,,IVE COME SO FAR I DONT WANNA STOP NOW

this is gonna be very messy cause i WILL be jumping back and forth as things come back to mind so uhh pls enjoy this absolute ramble <3

anyway. i continued playing omori and boy do i have some Thoughts

so first session; i went through the pyre(something i forgot the full name sob) forest/sprout mole village/sweetheart’s castle in one go and let me TELL YOU. DOING THAT WAS FUCKING INSANE I WENT NUTS holy shit.

so anyway.

pyre forest!!!! the lil race against the big spider coming after u for disturbing the smaller spiders mechanic was very fun i had a lot of fun figuring out the best routes to take. i know normally mechanics like that lead to ppl getting frustrated cause u have to keep retrying but i had a lot of fun!!!! sum annoyance but good natured type, th kind that just makes u try harder u know? i just enjoyed it JKFN;FN; candles in the foggy forest....now That is an aesthetic

the rare bear scared the fuckin shit out of me i remember it didn’t attack me straight away so i was like “aw (:” but then when i press x on him it takes me to a BATTLE SCREEN AND SUDDEN THAT MF IS TERRIFYING I WAS LIKE WHWHWHWHWKJDNJ. very funny i honestly wished i recorded my reaction

also omori is afraid of drowning...................................i am breathing heavily. i think whatever happened to mari is related to at least one of the things omori is scared of. so either heights, spiders, or drowning it seems. spiders doesnt seem super likely as a contributor to her death, and while falling from a height is more realistic, such a senseless way of dying doesnt seem to rlly fit ? with the vibe i get from the kiddos in the real world. which makes me think maybe drowning/otherwise suffocating is how she died...but we’ll see. also due to the forgotten library part, we know omori explicitly feared spiders/drowning before mari died so it’s also probable im jus talking out my ass here but still,,,,thoughts

also this motherfucker?

literally fucking terrifying. IT’S BODY IS MADE OF SUCC’D SPROUT MOLES...i still have no idea what exactly it was doing to them but jesus h christ!!!! evil and fucked up. do not feel bad for curbstomping it

sprout mole village!!!! very cute, im v excited to send that one dude his brother’s care package. i like how, when theyre not lost, sprout moles can be real endearing lil guys,,,theyre not my fav lil enemies but (:

also for some reason omori is the first game ive played where i really care about getting achievements ? so i literally did the back and forth on my save file just to get all the season sprout mole achievements JKDJFJ;. i ended up sticking w spring tho before moving on for real cause spring is my fav season irl (:

also i felt SO BAD for cutting down that one sprout mole’s chistmas tree he was just trying to celebrate but i wanted to see that present and coincidentally becoming a christmas ruiner was an achievement so all’s fair in love and war i suppose

ALSO. th fuckin plant monster thing under the scientist sprout mole’s room. major little shop of horror vibes from the design, absolutely adored it!!!!! originally i did just cut the wire holding the piano over it, ending it in one go, but i was very curious abt it so i reloaded a save file to actually fight it and

i know it only spread that gas to make the kiddos happy cause being happy reduces attack i think ? it decreases attack/defense but seeing the kiddos smile so much was nice (:

however

omori...sunny....son boy.........u good ?

and now. sweetheart

the way the sprout moles completely adore and depend on sweetheart gives me such awful evil vibes and combined with such a luxurious background was fucking incredible

sweetheart herself, speaking of. bitch (sorta affectionately, certainly not derogatory)

i talked to every sprout mole in the audience before taking my seat and i literally dont know why. even when i picked up the pattern of where the unique dialogue could be found (usually the sprout moles farthest right) i still talked to all of them......just in case ? i have no idea. i dont know why i did that. i feel it’s important that i note it tho

LMAO SO WHEN SPROUT MOLE MIKE DID THE MINUTE OF SILENCE FOR YE OLD SPROUT MOLE

I LITERALLY FELT SO FUCKING BAD LMAO I WAS LIKE OH MY GOD NO!!!!!! I DID THAT!!! I KILLED HIM!!! OH MY GOD!!! I WONDER HOW AWKWARD OMORI KEL HERO AND AUBREY FELT IN THE AUDIENCE HOLY SHIT THEY HAD FRONT ROW SEATS TO SPROUT MOLE MIKE’S MOURNING!!! MY GOD FJKFN;;

also sprout mole mike describing 3′7″ inches as ”towering” was the FUNNIEST shit i have ever seen. also i have to wonder, since sweetheart made up the whole show of sweetheart’s quest for hearts in the first place, if she was seriously down to marry a sprout mole if one suited her fancy. jus v funny to me honestly. SPEAKING of sweetheart’s dating patterns I NOTICED THOSE FEM SKELETONS IN THE DUNGEON!!!!! BI SWEETHEART!!!! SHE’S JUST AS DOWN FOR GIRLS AS SHE IS BOYS

i know TECHNICALLY not everyone is in the dungeon for failing to be a good enough suitor but STILL...COME ON. THIS WAS BEFORE WE KNEW THAT. SWEETHEART BI I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

anyway

when the lights when out and lightning struck the third contestant, i knew Immediately something was gonna go down. and when the mustache sprout mole was like “oh yes!! u!! in the striped pjs!! u absolute beast ur perfect!!!” i KNEW hero had just been selected as the replacement i was goign completely fucking nuts i was like OH MY GODNFNG; HIS HEART IS ALREADY TAKEN BY MARI!!!!!!! STOP

i ended up taking so many screenshots during this part cause i was going feral so here take a glance just cause i love, uh, hero

OUR HERO IN SHINING ARMOR DJLBH;KFJB

also GOD FUCKING DAMMIT IM SHORTER THAN HERO

hero shaking on the stage when he was introduced...oh my HEART....IM SO FOND FOR THIS BOY WTF!!!!! DKJDN;N

this is not really NEWS to me since it’s implied hero is tall but like come ON..... sorry just every time i find out a character is explicitly taller than me i need to huff about it, moving on,

HERO FUCKS

sorry i just have so many screenshorts during this aprt cause i was going fucking crazy but

literally terrifying! sweetheart bathes in that shit!! christ!

is blood good for ur skin? i imagine, so long as like...gore isnt in it and it’s solely blood it cant be BAD necessarily......but good ? regardless very fucked up. besides the fact that well, uh, BLOOD, blood is also sticky as hell. ur telling me sweetheart willinglhy bathed in that shit? disgusting. at least thin it out

anyway I HAD SO MUCH FUN DOING THE PUZZLES AT SWEETHEART’S CASTLE....FROM THE DUNGEONS TO THE KITCHENS TO THE BALLROOM TO THE LIBRARY TO THE GARDENS JUST EVERYTHING!!!! IT WAS SO FUN I ENJOYED FIGURING IT OUT SO MUCH IT WAS LITERALLY DELIGHTFUL...I LOVE THIS GAME SO MUCH THE GAMEPLAY IS SO FUCKING EPIC I LITERALLY HAVE SO MUJCH FUN.......OH MY GOD I JUST. INCREIDBLE!!!! FUCK

also the lil sir maximus bit.........i honestly felt really awful over having to kill them ): i think i even tried running once but it wouldnt let me...it hurt man ): they were just a family....

um but anyway,

i think it was rlly sweet how aubrey protested to the wedding cause she was worried abt sweetheart,,,like i cant rlly explain it idk how to put it into words,,like sweetheart is clearly not mentally well and having an episode, and aubrey being the only one to say “hey what ur doing is self-destructive and isolating” just mmmh. she cares a lot,,,and *i* care aubrey

also sweetheart’s battle theme fucking SLAPPED...SO GODDAMN HARD IM STILL QUAKING OVER IT....FUCKING BANGER YO!!!!!! INCREDIBLE

ah but alas

BASIL........I NOTICED THAT IT WAS HIS GHOST/SHADOW DURING THE EXIT FROM OTHERWORLD AS WELL BUT JUST FUCK

im so worried about basil ):

and it being so obvious that none of the others can see...........them asking omori if he’s okay.....oh my god. i go nuts

and then...the forgotten library part

i literally cried, again, oh my fucking god

these kids loved each other so much they ADORED the time they spent with each other and im QUAKING to know WHAT HAPPENED TO MARI......HOW DID THE FALLOUT GO. I NEED TO KNOW I NEED TO KNOW I NEED TO KNOW

i know there are multiple endings to this game and on god i am not QUITTING until i get the happiest ending there is for these kids im literally a goddamn fuckign mess oh my god

MARI SHWOING UP IN THE LIBRARY AT ONE POINT AND LEADING OMORI...........IM LTIERALLY GOIGN INSANE OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD HE LOVED HIS SISTER SO MUCH HE’S SO CLEARLY LOST WITHOUT HER I CANT FUCKING DO IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED. I NEED TO KNOW I NEED TO KNOW I NEED TO KNOW

GOD

okay sorry i just. ive said ti before but the grief in this game is so real and palpable and it aches, it aches so bad. also the white egret orchids in the library...i see u

but regardless.... session two real world electric boogaloo

LOVE that kel is like “so i need to run errands but u wanna come with me right? of course u do!” like fuck i rlly do. kel is just so delightful i would literally do anything to spend time with him

ALSO i noticed u can just refuse to open the door both times kel’s knocked now and it makes me wonder....if u could choose to ignore kel ? and then venture out urself or just ? i wonder what would even happen if u chose to not open the door. im CERTAINLY not doing it myself at the very least not this playthrough but i am curious...i bet that’s how u get a bad ending, by not talking w kel

but anyway....

aubrey and her gang not saying anything in the pizza parlor........i jus think abt that is all

ALSO!! pet rocks!!!!!!!!! LOVE this lil thing it’s so cute. jus rock paper scissors it babey

speaking of lil bits, love all the mini quests in the real world...it’s just rlly fun and builds up this cute lil town........it also makes me think that whatever happened to mari cant have been anything except an accident, bc no one comments on what a tragedy it was to omori. like if it was murder, there’s no way such a horrific situation wouldnt engulf the town for a bit and sweep over it for weeks at least, but that just doesnt seem to have happened. this is def me reading too into it tho;; point is neighbors nice (: also i got the seashell necklace and i go apeshit

ALSO......THE FUCKING...........CHURCH. I VISITED WITH KEL ON A COMPLETE WHIM CAUSE I WAS CURIOUS IF THE PASTOR WOULD TALK MORE ABT AUBREY BUT NO. INSTEAD HE TALKS ABT THE WEIRD VIBE FORM THE GRAVEYARD HE’S GETTING!!! AND THE DUDE WHO CHILLS IN THE GRAVEYARD SAYS SHIT ABT THE SPIRITS GETTING READY FOR SOMEONE TO JOIN THEM!!!! BITCH WAHT THE FUCK

THERE’S NOF UCKING WAY THIS ISNT ABOUT BASIL. THERE IS NO!!! WAY!!!! I SWEAR ON GOD IF BASIL DIES I WILL LOSE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ESP CAUSE THERE IS LITERALLY NO OTHER WAY HE COULD DIE EXCEPT SUICIDE THAT’S WHAT IT HAS BEEN IMPLYING OVER AND OVER I GO NUTS I GO APESHIT NO NO NO NO!!!!!!!!!!!!

FUCK

OKAY SORRY I JUST. HHHHHHHHHHH

baby has acquired baby

kel’s family is rlly cute,,,,v heartwarming. i trust them

i do worry abt like...the stark difference between recognizing kel’s accomplishments and hero’s...i just idk. i just keep thinking abt that bit in kel’s story abt hero’s depression when his parents focused on hero and ignored him, and i just. kel’s family is good People but i worry if kel has a good support system...i jus........): i am watching

ahh THE BASIL MISSING PART MADE MY HEART LITERALLY FUCKING DROP..I WAS SO FUCKING PANICKED I WAS LIKE OH MY GOD THIS IS IT BASIL IS DEAD

THANKFULLY HE WASNT BUT HOLY GOD HOW THAT WHOLE SITUATION PANNED OUT MADE ME GO NUTS!!!!!!! BASIL...AUBREY...HER GANG.......FUCK OH M YOGD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

THANK G O D I SNOOPED AROUND KEL’S HOUSE BEFORE LEAVING I WOULD HAVE H A T E D TO FIGHT THEM ALL AT ONCE IM GLAD I WAS ABLE TO JUST PEPPER SPRAY THEM JESUS CHRIST

oh my god kim like asking for aubrey all concerned before deciding to trust her and leaving.....kim i diagnose u with lesbain

the whole fucking. basil almost drowning scene. i seriously feel like ive changed like as a person over it. i am thinking . i am thinking. i am only evee thinking about mari and how omori just loved her so much and how the thought of her gave him strength. th pic of her ghost holding omori’s hand in the water made me cry

MMMM BUT. HERO!!!

I DIE I DIE I DIE HE’S SO PRETTY FUCK ALSO HIM PICKING UP BASIL WOOOOOOOO THIS IS WHAT IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THAT’S WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT YEAHHHHHHHH

god i feel so bad about leaving aubrey tho. shes so clearly not okay and she so clearly did not mean to push basil in and oh my GOD I JUST...PLEASE....PLEASE CAN WE JUST TLAK TO HER I NEED TO TLAK TO HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I NEED TO FUCK

the ghosts of omori and aubrey on the swings made me cry out like i had been physically assaulted

AHH BUT THEN TAKING BASIL HOME AND WHILE HE’S IN HIS BED HE JUST SAYS “oh sunny...there’s not way out of this...is there?” I LITERALLY GO BUCKWILD APESHIT INSANE STUPDI!!!!!! BASIL YOURE PUTTING UP A LOT OF ALARMING FLAGS HERE!!! PLEASE DO NOT FUCKING DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!

FUCK. CHRIST. HELL. SHIT. THIS GAME IS DRIVING ME FUCKING CRAZY

GOD

oh my god but the day ending with hero and kel sleeping over at omori’s house...im kdnd im jkdim im not uhm okay THEY BUILT A BLANKET FORT PLEASE..I LOVE THEM

goddd hero going into the piano room....playing sum........and then asking omori abt the song he and mari used to play on violin...and then THE TITLE SCREEN MUSIC STARTS PLAYING....HI. HI HELLO HI YOU CANT FUCKIGN DO THAT HI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK YOUFBJFGJNGN;EJNE; IM GOIGN NUTS

also the name omori comes from the piano.............interesting...i wonder why sunny likes being called omori in the dreamscape...

god but omori not having a srs hallucination cause he’s w his friends and he feels safe...im gonna sob

However. i did glance into the bathroom mirror. AND INSTEAD OF THE EYE MF IT’S A DISTORTED AS HELL GHOST MARI???IM SO FUCKIGN SCARED. IM SO SCARED. WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE FUCK? CREEPY AS HELL!!!

ohh my god this GAME

so finally i ended up in whitespace again. do NOT like that omori is completely alone in the world!!! what the FUCK!!!!!!!! I AM SO SCARED AT ALL TIMES. im literally about to go play sum more tho after dinner so i will see what happens. god i jsut......this game is so fucking good it has me by the balls dude. SO glad i decided to play it bruh

anyway thanks for reading all of this if u did, it’s an absolute monster ik and ur a real one

#cass cries #omori #omori spoilers #more like cass goes CRAZY this is so long #also id dint proof read this sorry </3

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doctorgerth · 4 years

Note

Hi, Im glad to see you back and congratulations on finishing your assignment! I wanted to request SFW Alphabet for Smoker Crocodile and Katakuri letters R T and U please, thank you so much💓

Thanks for the request love!! Lots of good bois in this post! I like writing soft things for these types of men 💘 Hope you enjoy! Gonna put it under the cut as it’s kinda long

Fluff Alphabet (Smoker, Crocodile, Katakuri) (R, T, U)

Smoker

R = Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

- Smoker, unfortunately, lacks in the romantic department. he’s really new to romance in general and is honestly just too flustered by the overly cutesy things! that’s not to say he doesn’t try, it just doesn’t come naturally to him, so he can be a bit awkward when he tries to be romantic with his partner (but it’s still sweet)

- to make his partner happy, his biggest effort goes into not bringing work home with him. at home, he tries his hardest to put his attention on them, especially after duties where he’s been away from home for a while. he’ll relax with them, ask them all about their day, help with/cook them dinner, and just unwind with them. he’s found himself to be less stressed and more loving due to this!

- something romance-y he does is he always brings a lil trinket of sorts that reminds him of his s/o when he returns from his missions! they’re just little keepsakes that shows he thinks about them while he’s away. some are mailed when he’s not able to return as soon as he anticipated, and sometimes his s/o will find a sweet letter or a picture of him (encouraged by Tashigi of course) attached.

T = Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

- Smoker is all about routine. since work can be so sporadic and hectic by itself, he much prefers and finds comfort in normalcy in his domestic life. work is thrilling enough, he doesn’t need romantic getaways or other thrilling activities to feel that spark in his relationship. coming home to his loving partner after a long day’s work is enough to get those butterflies fluttering in his tummy. he looks forward to it every single day!

- of course, he doesn’t ever leave his partner bored. when he’s available, he’ll take the time to take them out and go do things with them. some of his favorite things to do with his partner is go on hikes or go fishing! anything outdoorsy really, activities that give him a chance to escape for a bit with his partner.

- other than this, Smoker appreciates knowing what to expect in his relationship! morning coffee and cuddles, quick kisses before he goes to work, a nice long shower when he gets home, drinking and unwinding with his lover, all the basic domestic things. mundane routines might bore some, but honestly it’s all Smoker could ever ask for.

U = Understanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

- Smoker can’t really pick up on hints to save his life, so it’s much more helpful if his partner is upfront about their feelings. otherwise, he’ll assume everything is totally okay with them.

- when listening to his partner, he tries his best to be understanding but he almost always approaches it very logically. he’s not very empathetic, he thinks there’s a logical reason and logical solution to every thing. his empathy gets a bit better as the relationship continues on, but he’s still not very emotionally-driven when trying to console his s/o

- as for generally understanding his partner, Smoker knows enough! his downfall is that he just forgets the small things sometimes. like he continuously confuses which flower is their favorite, but he still buys them flowers regardless. he honestly tries his best, he just needs some reminders every now and then!

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Crocodile

R = Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

- Crocodile can be super romantic when he wants to be. he has all the money (and sometimes time) to spoil his s/o, so he’s known to take them out to fancy dinners, buying them outfits for said dinners, and treating them to some romantic strolls around the town. all cliche activities, but he still manages to make them super romantic!

- anything his partner asks for, he’s more than willing to get it for them. and with his power and status, it’s hardly ever difficult to get them those things! gift-giving and spoiling is definitely his form of romance, since he’s not typically verbally romantic. aside from material things, much like Smoker, he tries his best to make the time he spends with them extra meaningful, since work tends to keep him away. so, he gives them his undivided attention and pampers them with extra love when he finally gets to be alone with them.

- something also cliche and romantic he likes to do is just dance with his s/o around their home! it’s always spontaneous, like when they’re cooking dinner or getting dressed to go out, he’ll pull them into him and waltz around the room. if he’s able to, he’ll turn on some music, if not he’ll just hum it. Crocodile’s a pretty snazzy dancer!

T = Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

- thrill comes in waves. there are some days where he’s too swamped with work to really be in the mood for anything exciting. but, he usually makes up for this when he finally gets the time to spend with his partner. he’s all for vacationing, taking his partner to new and exciting places, spoiling them with fine foods and memorable experiences, all the like. he understands that it’s nice to get away for a while. because he rarely gets the time to spoil his s/o, he tries to go all out when he can.

- on long weeks when Crocodile is steadily working, there are definitely some routines setting into place. early morning breakfasts, reading the newspaper together, quick dinners, a glass or two of wine, reading before bed, him falling fast asleep before them, etc. it can’t really be helped due to his schedule.

- he’s not unhappy with the routine they’ve developed, but he knows his partner likes to get out every now and then. and he’s convinced it’s good for his mental state as well. so adding some excitement in the relationship when possible is a win-win for both! he mostly just likes to see them pleased so he’ll do almost just whatever it takes to keep them that way.

U = Understanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

- Crocodile is not a mind reader, so don’t try to treat him as such. he’s generally able to tell when his partner is acting a little unusual, but other than that, he much prefers his partner to tell him what’s wrong. only then can he help them get through it.

- he’s not very empathetic and he’s not very good at emotional help. Crocodile has his own way of handling things and has found himself expecting them to do the same. when this doesn’t work, he budges a little. he’s not always the best at giving advice, but he’s learned to be a great listener! he’s also great at offering distractions to help his lover not dwell on what is upsetting them.

- Crocodile has their favorite things down to a T, it never fails. he loves giving them gifts after all, so once they told him all their favorite things, he made sure to take note and proceeded to buy excess amounts of all of them. he has all anniversaries and their birthday marked on his calendars, otherwise he knows he’d forget.

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Katakuri

R = Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

- Kata is another shy man when it comes to romance. he wants to be so much more romantic than what he is, he just gets too flustered by it all! he hasn’t had a lot of luck with love and relationships, so he’s a bit new to it all. he also doesn’t want to screw anything up, so he tries to stick to things he’s familiar with.

- lots of nice, private dinners. food is his family’s specialty, so there are lots of dinner dates throughout the relationship. picnics, Kata loves going out with them on picnics. it took some convincing at first, as we all know Kata prefers to eat in privacy, but they found a perfect spot on Komugi Island by a pond where no one could bother them. since then, that’s how Kata likes to show his romantic side and keep his s/o happy, weekly picnic dates.

- realistically, Kata does quite a lot to keep his s/o happy. he involves them in most of his work, makes them feel like family (by making sure his family loves them almost just as much as he does), protects them, and just loves them to death! there’s really no room for questioning, it’s all evident in his actions. he’s a little blushy when being verbally romantic and it’s just so sweet because it’s obvious that he is trying. he’s been waiting for the right love to come along, so he makes sure to keep the romance alive in their relationship.

T = Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

- Kata is up for trying new things, he doesn’t ever want his partner to get bored of him after all. the picnic became a new addition to their relationship that he has grown to love, so he’s become open to other things. the more secluded, the better of course. he doesn’t want to do anything crazy or dangerous like cliff diving or sky diving, but going out into the town, shopping, strolling, etc. is always a nice change of pace.

- he’s getting older, so he wants someone to settle down with. thrilling adventures are a thing of the past, he just wants someone to love and care for, so he wouldn’t dare put them in any risky situations. as mentioned, some leisurely activities like picnic dates or cooking together is about all he can offer. he doesn’t mind routine one bit, just as long as he has them.

- for their fancy dinner dates, he likes to have something new prepared every time. he’ll always include family members and their specialties. and since there’s so many of them, there’s always an opportunity for something new to eat! there is some routine regarding family stuff as well. meetings, dinners, all the like. the best is family game night, and honestly, that can be pretty thrilling lol

U = Understanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

- throughout the relationship, Kata develops a deep emotional connection to his partner. he constantly studies his partner when they’re not looking, and has a clear understanding of their normal mannerisms. so when they start acting strange, he notices immediately. and after some time, he knows exactly how to cheer them up. he’s very attentive to his partner’s love language and needs!

- it took a bit of adjusting, but after some time, Kata has learned how to approach arguments or when his partner is upset. he’s a great listener, rarely does he ever get defensive, and he tries his hardest to be empathetic towards their feelings. communication is something Kata has greatly improved upon and thus has greatly improved their relationship.

- Kata knows his partner up, down, and all around. even the most obscure things like their favorite season, the way they act when they get nervous, or how many pairs of shoes they own. his mind is like an encyclopedia of his partner lol he just feels like he can’t afford to mess anything up, so he makes sure to take note of everything he can about them so he can keep them happy!

#doctorgerth #one piece #one piece headcanons #op headcanons #one piece hcs #op hcs #fluff alphabet #sfw alphabet #romantic #headcanons #hcs #smoker #sir crocodile #crocodile #charlotte katakuri #katakuri #mariegeoise

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honeybunny-sawamura · 3 years

Text

Chapter 1: First Meeting

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of harassment (nothing in detail)

Word Count: 1.7k

Author Note: yaho everyone! im celebrating my hubby’s birthday by indulging in my self ship! 💝 with an OC heheh this is my first time doing self shipping OxO i hope you like the stories i have ready

Daichi Sawamura will try and say he doesn’t believe in love at first sight. That yes, he can appreciate someone’s good looks at first glance, but to truly fall in love with someone he needs to get to know them. Only when he has seen all their hidden quirks, knows their favorites and inspirations, and can immediately distinguish their voice in a crowded room will he know that he’s absolutely in love with that person.

But… He’ll never forget the moment she first took his breath away.

There had been a string of harassments happening at the city’s skating arena. Apparently, it started off with it just being verbal, but things started to get physical and the perpetrator had not yet been caught. Officer Daichi Sawamura was accompanying Detective Takei, a hardworking man he respected, to meet up with the person who had called in for someone to investigate and catch the person(s) responsible. Daichi didn’t normally patrol this area but he had heard of some of the cases from a colleague. The victims were often young women and it always happened around nighttime when the perp could hide in the shadows. It was starting to affect the community and people were getting anxious; especially with the regional skating competitions coming up soon. Hearing all of this brought out Daichi’s protective nature and he already made it a priority to make sure that they catch whoever was harassing these innocent people. Detective Takei let out an amused snort at the determination set in Daichi’s features, knowing he picked the right officer to accompany him.

The two men enter the skating arena and shiver at the chill that hit them; the inside is way colder than the weather outside. There aren’t many people around: only four to five skaters with their coaches and a couple of others who could be friends or supporters. They’re all sitting in the stands, scattered about but close enough to chat with one another. The ice rink itself is void of any skaters which is surprising since the detective and officer had been informed that the competition is in a month or so and that practices were happening almost every day at every hour.

“We’re looking for a Mrs. Bessho. A middle-aged woman, somewhere between her 50s I believe. Taller than most her age, quite thin, and brown permed hair. She’s a coach to a young female figure skater.” Detective Takei tells Daichi as they scan the place for someone that fits that description while taking in anyone they think looks suspicious. They slowly make their way down the steps and closer to the ice rink, giving a curt nod at those who look their way. Daichi thinks he spots someone fitting Mrs. Bessho’s description standing at the rink’s sideline talking to a young woman all dressed up to perform. He points out the woman to the detective, who nods, and they both briskly descend the stands. They were just a few rows away from reaching Mrs. Bessho when music starts to fill the arena and the occupied stands bursts with cheering and hollering. The young lady who Mrs. Bessho was talking to, happily waves over to her small audience and then skates away from the sidelines. She takes a leisure lap around the rink, swaying a tad to the music, before heading to the middle of the ice.

“Might as well enjoy the performance.” Huffs the older man to Daichi, leaning on one of the seats at the end of the row. A hush settles over the ice as the music fades out and the figure skater sets herself in position, serene and confidence all in her pose. There’s a silent pause for just a moment until a riff of quick piano notes opens up and the rehersal begins. Daichi couldn’t help but become mesmerized by the figure skater. How graceful she skims across the ice and how her every movement, down to even the flick of a wrist, seems to tell a story. His eyes follow her every glide and every jump makes his heart leap along, wondering if she’ll stick the landing; impressing him without fail when she always does. Daichi had seen figure skating performances before, his mother and little sisters loved watching the competitions on TV, but he’s never seen one in person until now. He can see the appeal of it and why people held high regards for the sport. Daichi himself couldn’t skate for his life and to see someone do it so effortlessly and beautifully with all those spins and jumps, he thinks he could watch this young woman skate for hours.

But it doesn’t last for too long and before Daichi knew it, things come to an end. The small audience cheers and whistles as the young woman on the ice bows and waves to them again, a triumphant smile on her face. He watches her scan the stands and giggle here and there at her friends; even from where he stood, he could tell she was quite pretty. The young officer couldn’t help but feel something electrify through him when her eyes land and linger on him. She blinks at him, tilting her head slightly in curiosity. The figure skater gives him a small but polite smile and a bow before she is called to the sidelines by her coach, Mrs. Bessho, who Daichi remembers he and the detective are here to talk to.

“Come on, let’s go.” Says Detective Takei, breaking Daichi from whatever trance he was in. He nods a bit jerkily and follows the older man to the sidelines where the coach and figure skater were.

“- was wonderful! But remember about the turns…”

“Mrs. Bessho?” the detective calls out and the two women turn their attention to them; the elder a bit annoyed with the interruption and raising an eyebrow at the two burly men.

“I’m Detective Takei and this is Officer Sawamura. We’re here about the harassment problems you called about.” Mrs. Bessho’s face morphs from irritation to realization.

“Ah, of course! We spoke yesterday afternoon. Yes, I am Mrs. Sakura Bessho. And this is my protegee, Nozomi Hoshikai. She has had a run in with the harasser before, right dear?” The older woman introduces while the girl bows in a formal greeting. Daichi tries her name out in his head, ‘Miss Nozomi Hoshikai’ and he finds it sounds quite nice.

“Well, we’d like to take any information you have so we can pursue further with the case.” the detective pries.

“Oh, heavens! Where do I start?” exclaims Mrs. Bessho before spilling everything she knew and heard of. As she and Detective Takei talk, Daichi busies himself by taking notes but he’s a little distracted. His eyes keep drifting over to Miss Hoshikai, who nods every so often as her coach goes on. Daichi takes in her inky black hair that’s tied in a bun with a few ornaments adorning it. Her eyes were so dark, almost looking black if it were for the arena’s lights above to illuminate the brown hue in them. And a soft pink color dusted her beige cheeks; was it from the chill of the ice rink or from the exertion from the performance just now Daichi wasn’t sure. Noticing he was staring a bit too long, Daichi shakes his head a little to snap out of it and goes back to taking notes. But when his gaze goes back to Miss Hoshikai, his eyes meet hers. Both of them blink in surprise and turn away with cheeks growing warm in being caught looking at the other. Daichi clears his throat and interjects the older pair with having Nozomi recount her confrontation with the harasser.

“We’d like to hear your encounter with them, if that’s alright Miss Hoshikai?” he asks politely. Something tickles in his chest when the pink on the skater’s cheeks grow a tad darker. Unbeknownst to him, Nozomi likes the way he says her name. She complies and tells her story. While she does so, a frown grows on Daichi’s face as well as the need to protect gets stronger. Even though no real harm came upon her and Nozomi dismisses her experience with a “It’s not as bad as what the other girls experienced…” Daichi can’t help but get a tad upset and reply,

“Regardless! You shouldn’t have gone through that. You nor anyone else.” Nozomi is slightly taken aback by the officer’s words; honestly touched that this kind officer refuses to brush off her frightening ordeal. She gives him a soft smile in gratitude, and it brings back that tickle in his chest.

“Thank you…” she tells him. Detective Takei and Mrs. Bessho wrap up with a few more statements. Once he and Daichi have all that they can get from the two women, they decide to part from them and go ask the people around what they knew. The stands had cleared out while they had been talking but the older woman assures them that the others were probably in the lobby or outside.

“Thank you. We’ll see to it that the perpetrator gets caught once and for all.” the detective, along with Daichi, nod reassuringly.

“Thank you both for coming today and taking on this case. If we get anymore information, we’ll contact you.” Mrs. Bessho responds. The two men bow and when Daichi comes up, he notices that the young figure skater looks like she wants to say something but doesn’t know how to go about it. She opens and closes her mouth a few times then brings a hand to her mouth as if to ponder on what to say. Her brows are furrowed in what looks like anxiousness and the officer thinks back to her dreadful encounter that she had shared with them.

“If you ever need help, please… Don’t be afraid to call the precinct and ask for me.” Daichi offers to the young lady. He can only imagine how scared she and the others must be. If he can be of any solace to her, he’d do so in a heartbeat. Relief settles onto her features and she gives him a small nod,

“Thank you… Officer Sawamura.”

“I’m happy to help, Miss Hoshikai.”

Taglist: @tsumtsumland @ceo-of-daichi @daichis-kitty @karasimpno

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pangtasias-atelier · 4 years

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How about this: Felix has been eating cake very often, everyone has told him, he can't stop. He'll grow bigger and will realize that no matter how much he trains he cannot recover his figure, on the contrary everything gets worse. Someone will tell him it's out of control. Felix will refuse. Sudenly he feels is about to burst and BOOM. It was a dream. He had fallen asleep without finishing his cake. He will move it away in anger "Im NOT out of control" After a few minutes, he will eat it. Ty~ :3

This one got really long omg. And after shortening down the ideas I had for the other Blue Lions’ interactions lol

But! Another one I’m happy how it came out. Now I just wish I actually bettered myself and took like actual writing lessons but eh, focusing on other stuff right now.(Still wanna make sure I’m not fucking up and mixing tenses tho)

This was really fun to write, so I hope you enjoy!! Especially since you’ve made a bunch of good FE fats for us and thank you for that!~

___________________

Felix doesn't know how it started, maybe it was a spell, new ingredients, a better chef, but it was something. Anything. Anything but his own fault.

All of a sudden his innate disdain for cake was replaced with a wanton need for it. Everyday, he needed some of it to satisfy his insatiable cravings for it.

And despite the signs all pointing to a clearly obvious problem, Felix was the only one who refused to see it. Even as a bit of pudge began to form on his thin body.

The first had been Annette.

On a visit to House Fraldarius, the day had been spent in relative uneventfulness, the day consumed with talks about their territories. It was upon dinner that the mood had changed.

Unable to control her expression, the puzzlement displayed on her face on a visit to House Fraldarius is evident to Felix, his features tightening in a scowl.

"Just say whatever it is your thinking instead of keeping it to yourself like those mindless gossipers," Felix spits out, already scowling.

"I'm surprised to see you of all people eating cake, Felix," Annette smiles at him.

Felix responds with a scowl, his grip tightening. His slice of cake sits nearly finished, Felix almost devouring it entirely if it hadn't been for Annette interrupting him.

"You always hated the stuff,"

"Well, opinions change," Unwilling to deal with any comments over his shameful new preference for the decadent sweets, Felix simply stands up and walks away with his plate in hand.

It takes a couple of hours when he's cooled down from the conversation for him to leave his room. Unfortunately, despite the cover of night, he encounters Annette in the training grounds.

Casting a simple wind spell, the rush of air still flows faster than it should, both of their clothes willowing in the rapid gusts.

Felix catches the glint of metal against the wall, Crusher resting. Deciding to head back, Annette turns around, face neutral. Caught, Felix sighs, resulting with his hand on his hip.

"I overreacted, what else do you want me to say?"

"An apology would be a nice start," Closing her tome, Annette wipes the sweat off her forehead, her hair disheveled. Grabbing Crusher, Felix forces himself to not visibly react at the way she easily grabs it and carries it.

"Sure, I'm sorry for whatever I did," Felix grumbles. Crossing his arms on his chest and resting on the heels of his feet, Felix makes out the way Annette's eyes quickly drift down this time before they don't, Annette making sure to be less obvious.

“Don’t let it get out of control,” Annette offers, smiling.

Felix doesn't ask her what else she wants to say this time, biting his tongue back and blushing.

The second had been Ingrid.

The embarrassment of Annette noticing his slight paunch apparently hadn't been enough shame for Felix, his constant devouring of cake only worsening.

The small bump for a stomach grew into a large swell, clothes needing an upsizing by his tailors. His flat, sightly defined chest filled out with small flabby bumps. Yet it was his lower half that grew larger in proportion. His thighs became swaddled with a generous portion of overlapping fat, his graceful movements now slower and clunkier. The rise of his ass was a reminder to his size, his sizeable asset jostling about with each hefty waddle.

Annoyed with having a visitor so soon again, Ingrid's usual calm disposition was relatively easy to deal with. As long as he didn't raise his own temper, her's wouldn't rise either.

Except Ingrid had no sense of calmness, immediately going to fretting over Felix.

Felix who had been so agile and active. Felix who hated cake. Felix who had been

"You do know you have a problem, right?" Ingrid asks over dinner, her eyes on Felix's plate of food, the portion much larger than before. The clanking of his fork on his plate only prompts Ingrid to speak more. “Of course you don’t,” Ingrid sighs. “You’re too busy criticising others and their issues that you don’t even see your own,”

“I don’t have a problem,” Felix leans back into his chair before he feels the heft of his own body resting on him, Felix sitting upright once again. Yet even in that position he feels the way his stomach seeps onto his thighs.

“Really Felix?” Ingrid frowns, pushing her hair to the side.

“I can work it off,” Felix gives in, only partially.

“Then you would have already,” Ingrid fights back. “It’s getting out of control,”

Yet no matter how much further she goes, Felix refuses to admit his issue. And so by the time Ingrid’s entourage and ride arrives, she finds it far better to simply leave and free herself of Felix’s own stubbornness than to deal with even more back and forth arguments.

Nothing learned, Felix pays no heed to Ingrid’s words, cake far more important. Any kind he could get his greedy hands on would do. Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry shortcake, cheesecake, lemon, regardless of the flavour, Felix felt the need to devour it all the same.

His sense of time lessening, the only truly memorable moments was when he was stuffing himself with the delicious sweet contents of cake.

His waistline suffering for it, his own remarks of training off the extra abundant inches off his waist never came. Soon, walking became more difficult, chairs became too weak, doors too narrow, clothes too revealing. To Felix, everything else had an issue except himself. Even as he continued to grow fatter and fatter.

Most likely through Ingrid’s meddling, soon other former members of the Blue Lions came to check up on him.

The third had been Mercedes.

Her charitable nature and nice sensibility had led to her coddling him on her first day, Mercedes even baking a cake for Felix. That had apparently been a test, Felix failing it when he finished it in one sitting. Her kind coddling was only met with more detest on Felix’s end.

Felix undeniably fat, his poorly fitting outfit was only more cause of concern on Mercedes’ end. Instead he had merely thanked her for the cake before waddling away, his shelf of an ass wobbling behind him all the while.

The fourth and fifth had been Ashe and Dedue together.

The two specializing in cooking, Ashe’s own successful inn clearly showed on his short frame, Ashe containing a paunch. Dedue was the same as ever, his figure massively built and stacked.

Whereas Ashe was at most chubby, Felix was obese, his titanic rolls swaddling his body, his cheeks marring his own scowl and softening it. And instead of hedding both of their concerns, all Felix had were retorts to Ashe’s own size.

The two didn’t remain long, Felix targeting both Ashe and Dedue for Ashe’s newfound weight alongside both no longer having the patience meant Felix had been free of their torment.

Some dedication to his training grounds, and he’ll easily work off the extra weight is what Felix clings on to.

But those days never arrive, Felix happily gorging himself on cake and nothing but cake.

The sixth had been Dimitri.

Finally able to take the chance to get away from his own dealings as King of Fhirdiad, Dimitri instead had to deal with an annoyed Felix. Only a week after Ashe and Dedue’s visit, Felix had overall been the same out of shape angry person.

Dimitri a passionate person, his scathing remarks had been the only ones to get Felix to shut up and listen. Pointing out Felix’s need for three chairs at the table, if he even bothered to walk instead of eating in his room, the way his body was inundated with rolls making even the simplest of tasks a chore for him to pull off, his increasing appetite that only would worsen with time. Dimitri had actually even made Felix use his training grounds for the first time since Felix could even see past his mountain, roll riddled gut.

The pathetic speed Felix swung his sword only made Dimitri worry more, Felix struggling to even get a proper grip with his bingo wingo arms pressing against the side of his moobs. Felix’s complaints and asks for a break were ignored by Dimitri, forcing his friend to keep going.

By the time Dimitri had left the next day, he left with hopes for Felix, Felix grumbling yet thankful for talking sense into him.

Except after a couple days, Felix’s own inability to control his appetite left him giving up, Felix merely reverting back to his gluttonous lazy self.

The seventh and last had been Sylvain.

Felix so far gone in his ravenous ways, the last vestiges of his own mobility was apparent. Sylvain had whistled upon sighting Felix, eyes wide open, unable to believe it himself.

Where Dimitri embarrassed Felix to help him, Sylvain had done the opposite. Ridiculing Felix, Sylvain did it with the intention of putting him down.

Grabbing Felix and forcing him to walk, Felix sweating and waddling by his side while he heaved and puffed all the while in between curses, Sylvain would tire him out only to leave him alone, Felix falling down to the floor with a resounding crash and staying there. Forcing him to sit on a single chair instead of the necessary four so he’d crush yet another piece of furniture. Pushing him into too narrow doorways only to leave him stuck inside, Felix too fat and wide to get through or push himself out. Barraging Felix’s entire body with powerful slaps to make his engorged body shake as if an earthquake had just occured.

Sylvain’s cruel methods had only reinforced the subconscious idea in Felix’s brain of why even bother. Unfortunately for Felix, Sylvain had stayed the longest, a month of disparaging remarks and acts endured by Felix. Sylvain had even left without a word, disappearing in the night.

Unwilling to act and far too fat to do so, Felix’s only companion was the increasing amounts of cake he devoured each day. The ability to one day quit and lose all of his weight always in the back of his mind, said day never came, Felix reaching immobility before he even had time to consider the possibility. Not that he ever would consider it, Felix too stubborn to think he’d let himself go this far.

A feeding tube in his room, Felix hadn;t even remembered asking for such a thing, his mind in a constant haze of cake. Barely a couple hours after lunch, Felix was already on his fifth meal. Each lasting an hour, he only paused intermittently for a few minutes, his hunger quickly coming back.

Bed completely covered in his own rolls, Felix can feel all his weight press down on him from lying on his back. Only able to stare at his tube and the ceiling, wiggling his fingers and toes are the only other things for him to do besides eating or sleeping. His ass encapsulating the bed and reaching the floor, Felix pays it no mind, focusing instead on guzzling the cake flavored whatever, Felix even uncaring about what it is he’s devouring.

Reaching a full state, Felix mumbles past the tube, his incoherent words a jumble. Expecting the tube to turn off, it remains on, filling his stomach with a torrent of cake. Increasing his complaints, the only response is his feeding tube picking up in speed, Felix gurgling as he;s forced to devour it all. Chugging it, Felix feels himself expanding.

Stomach rising in the air and cascading all around like melted vanilla ice cream, his breasts flow and sink back down towards his face, his numerous neck rolls meeting them head on. His thighs become even more dimpled, the couch sized appendages forced even wider to accommodate the rapidly filling thighs as they grow larger and wider. His ass pushes him high in the air, Felix groaning as his large room becomes even more cramped, his now blob like body filling it.

His feeding continues, Felix groans, his eyes half lidded as he continues to guzzle. His stomach stiff, the stuffed state of it feels oddly relaxing, Felix giving in to the tube. Suckling it, Felix complains as his body finally reaches the edge of his room, fat reaching from corner to corner. Huffing,the cramped and compressed nature of it makes him complain. Body seemingly one large blob with no definition, joints seemingly improbable, the walls begin to crack and tumble as Felix grows ever fatter,his eyes even hard to keep open with so much fat clinging to his body. The floor even cracking underneath him, it takes no time for the whole area to explode, Felix’s body rushing out like a dam breaking.

Jolting up in his chair, Felix hisses as he hits his arm against his table.

Alone in his room, Felix heaves as he checks himself. Nightclothes on, a simple pair of shorts and a shirt, the moon high in the sky notifies him of it being night. Grabbing his stomach, Felix grimaces as his hand wraps around a sliver of pudge. Sniffing, the aroma of strawberry assaults his nose. Turning to the table, Felix spots the remnants of a slice, a couple of forkfuls left.

Sighing upon realizing it was all a dream despite the vividness, Felix leans back into his chair. Glaring at the cake, Felix stands up. Bones aching, he stretches, humming as they crack. The warm covers of his bed calling and reaching out to him, Felix takes a couple of steps. His stomach growling, the hunger calls and reaches out to im as well. Glancing at the bed, then the cake, and then finally his stomach, Felix frowns. Grabbing the plate, he swiftly devours the remains of the cake.

“I’m not out of control,” He grumbles to himself.

#My writing #ssbhm #fat!felix #fat!threehouses #male weight gain #immobility

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m00nlitknight · 4 years

Text

librarian helper

fandom: IT (2017) pairing: henry bowers / goody-two-shoes reader word count: 1,635 warnings: none to really point out? henry being henry?? summary: Oh, how one tires of stagnant days. extra: my favorite part of this is when richie said 'mullet-boy bowers' im iconic. i also finished this at like 3am pls b gentle i hope i wrote henry ok! feedback is highly appreciated, thank you for reading!

archive of our own link.

Monday mornings in Derry weren’t ideal, regardless of the context. Teens awoken far too early for their own good, forced to come to grips with the reality that it was the first day back from the weekend. Trudging through the crowded student body and longing for the day to be over just as soon as it was to begin. A variety of feelings made the air heavy and thick with a concoction so truthful to the high school experience; frustration, exhaustion, and the underlying scent of yearning.

Few an individual found themselves bragging of the weekend’s extracurricular activities, cackling with an unusual vigor and energy unlike the rest of their near-ghoulish peers. Others were sitting on the ground, rushing through their assignments with adrenaline only just granted to them; oh yes, the heart-stopping experience of forgetting that there was homework.

Fortunately, you’d hadn’t found yourself in that predicament this morning, having thoroughly done your homework on Friday night. Best to do it then push it off and forget it; your own philosophy. Not to say you hadn’t found yourself in the same situation in times past, nor were you above those whose memory’s had failed them.

Quietly you step up to your locker, opening it and glancing down to your left, where Richie Tozier was currently scribbling nonsense down on what you assumed to be Government. You hummed, putting your things away quickly and retrieving what looked to be the same assignment - some stupid worksheet the teacher assigned, no doubt some kind of busywork. Your class truly had no grasp on the concept of being ‘quiet,’ which annoyed you to no end.

You squatted down to his level, with his pencil not even ceasing as you set the paper in his peripheral. No teachers were at their morning posts yet, either that or the ones who were supposed to be there simply didn’t care to be there.

“Oh - uh, shit, how much?” His eyes shifted from you to the paper quickly as he fumbled to reach for something - likely his wallet.

“Nothing,” Your voice leaves you laced with amusement as you push the paper into his grasp. “Just don’t get caught with it, please.”

“Aw, c’mon! You can’t just hand it the fuck over for free, man, that’ll mean I owe you a solid.”

“Just consider it on the house, Tozier. It’ll be fine, you don’t owe me.”

“Okay, okay, but don’t come hollerin’ when you suddenly need a favor from ol’ Richie, alright?”

You hum in affirmation, turning back to your locker and beginning to sort through the things that would be needed for the day to come. Around you, energy began to rise, individuals of the student body reanimating through social interaction. The morning sun may not have been enough to revitalize them, but it appeared that the promise of teenage-to-teenage interaction was.

Richie finished his work with your worksheet quickly, shoving it back in your direction with a toothy grin. “Thanks, dude, you’re a fuckin’ lifesaver, I swear.”

“Like I said, it’s nothing! Do you need help with anything else? You know I have a basically free second period in the library.”

“Nah, thanks for the offer,” He seemed to finalize, standing up to go through his own locker. “I’ll make sure to send my dumbfuck friends your way if they happen to need any tutoring, though.”

You release a laugh through your nose, head shaking as you did so. Richie looked to you with a momentary smile, only to have it fall when he looked passed to the people around you.

“Alright, don’t panic,” naturally, you felt a little alarmed as a grimace crept onto his features. “ but I think you have a momentary peepin’ Tom right now.”

“Uh ... what ... do you mean?” You couldn’t help the faint caution and apprehension crawling into your voice.

“Mullet-boy Bowers is staring at you like ... really intensely,” he turned to you once again, putting an not-so-reassuring hand on your shoulder. “If I were you, I’d get the fuck outta dodge right now.”

With that, he stepped around you, maneuvering through the hallway - likely to class - and leaving you by your lonesome and, unfortunately, vulnerable. Quickly after his departure, the bell rang shrill overhead, signaling the beginning of class as students begrudgingly made their way to their first hour classes. You made yourself among their ranks, gathering your things to hopefully outrun ( or walk in this case ) any physical advancements the fellow student could’ve had on you.

The classroom’s door frame never felt more welcoming as you stepped foot into it, releasing a breath of comfort. Most of the class had yet to filter in, meaning there was more reign to choosing whatever seat you wanted. With a hum of appreciation, you step further in, choosing a seat not-too-close and not-too-far back for your liking, sitting down and preparing for class.

You keep your attention focused on your notebook for the beginning as classmates make their way in, sitting in various spots around the room and leaving you by yourself. Booted footfalls make their dreaded way over to you, finding themselves seated to your right. Sudden fear prickles your skin, suddenly making the room too warm and too cold at once while your shoulders tense. For the love of god, be anyone, anyone other than who you thought it was.

The seat creaks, likely with the weight of its occupant leaning into your vicinity. “Did’ja get the homework done, girlie?” You can almost hear the smirk in his whisper, as though he’s a wolf bearing his maw to a sheep. You tense further, shaking your head as you unconsciously lean further into the empty space you have right.

“S’funny...swear I saw you givin’ it to Trashmouth ‘fore class started,” The seats to your front and back were occupied by others, quite possibly remaining individuals who found an alliance with Henry. “Always thought’ch’re a good girl...be a shame if someone fucked that up for y’huh?”

Blackmail? That didn’t really seem like his style, then again it didn’t quite seem like you were being offered a choice of any kind - especially if he had the man power of his goons with him.

“So what’s it gonna be, huh? We ain’t got much time,” his voice transcribed his annoyance as your mulling was cut short, sliding the paper into his vision as he diligently scribbled the answers down. Across the room you caught the eye of Richie, quickly looking away in shame. You nearly miss the amused “s’what I thought,” murmured from Henry as he finishes the work quickly, shoving your desk with a bark of laughter.

The class continues on with its usually snail-like pace, much to your dismay as you keep your eyes locked on either the clock or your notebook. In front of you sat Belch Huggins, likely to his own humor since you were no longer able to see the board, and to your back sat Victor Criss who was able to sneak in an early nap. Through the paperballs being spat at or thrown at you from your right, you couldn’t help but feel that this was in some way better than having Patrick sit nearest to you - even if he was still creepily staring into your shoulder from behind Henry with what you could only guess was that irking grin. God forbid it was his expressionless face, that churned nervousness in your gut.

The bell rang once again overhead, signaling your freedom to the library as you scrambled to gather your things and rush passed before you had the chance to get cornered. Dumping what you had in your hands in your locker - you figured it would be for later you to organize - you did your best to scamper to the library unseen.

It seemed to have worked for the most part, aside from the bemused glances you garnered from teachers. Only momentary, they shrugged it off as you being a good kid in a hurry. As you entered the vicinity, you released another sigh of relief. If there was one thing you knew, it was that Henry Bowers wouldn’t be caught dead in a library. You didn’t really worry about his friends either, they were probably busy giving some unfortunate soul a swirlie, or whatever.

“Always on time, aren’t you?” The librarian, Ms. Andrews, rhetorical question was met with a beaming smile from you. “I’ve written things down for you to do, I’ll be in and out today helping the bookkeeper in the office.”

With a timid nod, you walked over to what she’d assigned you to do, looking through the short list with a thought of reaffirmation. Checking books back in, sorting back through them, and putting labels on new ones. You didn’t think you’d get through it all in the allotted time, though you were sure she’d been aware. Despite the world’s slow pace of going digital, Derry managed to lag behind - leaving you and your school with the unfortunate continuation of the paper system instead of being able to have the use of a computer.

“I’ll be back soon, dear, you know where where everything is,” she rounded the counter top before stepping out of the room, heels clicking loudly on the linoleum outside the carpeted room. A few moments later, the sound of boots made themselves apparent on the floor outside, going unnoticed by you as you began working on what had been assigned to you.

Looking up, your eyes met the smug gaze of Bowers himself - to which you tensed up once again. It stayed like what for an uncomfortable amount of time, the stuffy silence broken by the likes of you.

“Didn’t think you’d be a fan of the library,” you murmured, closing the book and setting it on the cart to be replaced.

“Wasn’t really, ‘till a lil’ birdy told me where my favorite bunny hangs out fer her second hour,” A sly smirk crawled onto his features as he watched you grimace over the use of the pet name.

He stepped forward, watching a physical flinch from you occur whilst he leaned his elbows onto the counter. It was stupid of him to get worked up over watching you squirm like that, but he had to admit there was definitely a feeling that came along with it. Leaning onto the counter, he gazed into your face. “What’ya say to us peelin’ outta here, goin’ and havin’ some actual fun?”

You fell silent at the question, blush darkening your features all the way to the ear. Unable to keep eye contact, you glanced to the pile of books that suddenly seemed way more interesting. “I’d say,” your voice came out so much more fragile then you’d meant it to as you looked back into his eyes. “Take me to dinner first.”

At your rebuttal, he found himself at a momentary loss for words, his own cheeks dusting with a faint pink. His smirk faltered, before returning at full force. “Can’t a man get a taste first, then?”

“ Uh, ” your mouth went dry, eyes suddenly widening. How could he be so forward?

“What’ll it be, doe-eyes?”

With a glance around the vacant library, you looked to him again. “Follow me.”

His smirk turned wolfish as you led him to the vague-privacy of the bookshelves. Once the doorway was out of sight, and the two of you were tucked away into a corner, you looked to him. “We’ll have to be quick...and quiet.”

He stepped to you, only partially caging you in with one hand. “I can do quick, but I can’t promise quiet, bunny.”

“W-we can’t do much,” you stammer, face flushing as he lowered himself to your neck. “I’m n-not that easy!” You squeak when you feel his lips press against your jugular, putting an embarrassed hand to your mouth.

“Thought we had to be quiet,” he chuckled.

You put your hands onto his face, dragging him backward to press a chaste kiss to his lips. Quickly, he swatted your hands away, coming to rest his own on your waist as you replaced your hands onto his shoulders. The kiss escalated to eyes being closed, lip nipping, and heads turning for a better angle.

You gently pulled away, in turn his hands beginning to roam your mid-section with curiosity as you caught your breath. When he brushed a certain spot, you couldn’t suppress a giggle, much to his amusement as he began to brush it intentionally.

“Henry!” You giggle, putting your hands on his chest to push him away.

“Y’know, I like the sound of my name on your lips, doe-eyes,” He pressed a kiss to your lips once again before pulling away completely. “Maybe you’ll be sayin’ it with more gusto tonight, huh?”

Your face flushes, eyes widening again. “Oh - oh! Uh, maybe..?”

“Meet me durin’ lunch, we’ll talk then,” and with a wink, he set out of the library.

#henry bowers x reader #henry bowers imagine #henry bowers #it 2017 fanfiction #it 2017 #anyway #reader insert

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