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clean-bubbles-aka-bubbles · 24 days

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Perpetual Confrontation with Perpetrator

ART DOES NOT BELONG TO ME! CREDITS: skrt.skrt28 on instagram

Thunderous thumps caused the floor to rumble slightly. The three stiffened up in fear, with Cesar expressing most fear since that particular thing—whoever or whatever—was behind them made him self-unalive.

The creature before them stood tall, its form skeletal and shadowy. Despite this, its eyes were large and cartoonish, almost uncanny. Its unnaturally long, white grin, coupled with Cesar's hairstyle, only added to the surreal nature of the creature. It now stood on all fours, its body a gradient of grey and white. The creature's hands remained as claws, and its legs ended in pointy, needle-like spikes. Skeletal spikes protruded from behind its limbs, adding to its eerie appearance. It also had a long, thin tail of many small bones that gave the illusion of fluffiness, but it was not.

“Wait, YOU again!?” Mark’s eyes widened in shock and anger. “Y-You’re the one that murdered my friend!” He gritted his teeth, readying his gun again.

“Reminder that he survived thanks to you mortals." The Perpetrator scoffed. "Besides, you’re out of bullets after shooting me in the face and stomach.”

The Perpetrator's words sent a chill down Mark's spine, his grip on the gun tightening reflexively. He glanced down at the empty magazine, realizing the truth in the creature's words. Fear and frustration boiled within him, the memory of his friend's death fueling his anger.

“Hey! You’re the one who almost got me killed! And you attacked my mom! What did you do to her!? Where is she!?” Cesar coughed hoarsely from recovering after nearly dying.

The Perpetrator tilted its head slightly, a grotesque mimicry of curiosity as it regarded Cesar with its eerie, too-wide eyes. "Ah, your mother?" it said, its voice dripping with a mockery of concern. “She was merely a means to an end—a way to draw you out. As for where she is now—let's just say she's somewhere you cannot reach her."

Cesar's face contorted with a mix of fear and anger. "Tú pequeño pinchazo! You son of a–" he started, his voice hoarse but filled with fury. Bubbles quickly placed a restraining hand on his arm, a silent plea to stay calm. She was a bit surprised to see Cesar swear in his native language to an Alternate.

“What do you want?” She asked, reaching in her back and taking out her bladed frisbees.

The creature's laughter filled the room, a chilling sound that echoed off the walls. "Want? I am here to fulfill the will of our Lord and Savior. To ensure the Artisan will suffer from its losses," it said, its gaze locking onto the three.

"But you guys seemed to have the luck of the Celestial Artisan on your side. And you three have been quite the thorn in our side. But it seems that based on the other Alternates’ observations, you’re quite… oblivious to what transpires. I’ve been getting reports that Alternates have been killed discreetly the majority of the time. So if one of us confronts you in our presence, she will take time to come, right?"

Bubbles felt a cold dread settle in her stomach. The Perpetrator was close to discovering her role as the Celestial Artisan, which meant the stakes were higher than she had feared. She needed to protect her friends and end this threat–or at least slow down and weaken it, but how?

Mark noticed the tension in Bubbles and stepped slightly in front of her, his protective instincts kicking in despite the fear that gnawed at him.

*CLICK!*

"You'll have to go through me first," he declared, though his empty gun offered little reassurance.

“¡Idiota! You have an empty gun!” Cesar facepalmed at his friend. “What do you think that’s going to do!?”

The brown-haired teen winced at his Hispanic friend’s words, realizing the futility of his declaration. He glanced down at the empty gun in his hand, a bitter taste of defeat filling his mouth.

"W- What are you going to do after you kill us?" Bubbles raised an eyebrow.

"After?” The Perpetrator's grin widened a grotesque expression that sent shivers down their spines. “Oh, there is no after for you," it hissed, its voice echoing slightly in the stark, empty hospital corridor.

"But for the world?” He snarled. “The chaos has just begun. Our Lord has plans, grand plans, and you three are but a minor nuisance to be dealt with.” He pointed three elongated fingers at them.

“Once it's over, then we’ll be making more killings in this county, and once we’re powerful enough, there is nothing the Celestial Artisan can do to stop us!"

The girl deadpanned.

“...Why the hell would you reveal the plan to people out loud? Are you trying to sound menacing? Because if you tell us before you kill us, there’s technically no point psychologically manipulating us since we would have believed that’s how the fate of the world would be—in fact, we’re already dead and we can’t do anything about it in the afterlife.”

She shrugged.

The Perpetrator's smile faltered momentarily, its composure slipping at Bubbles' retort. It seemed momentarily taken aback, not expecting such a candid challenge. The creature quickly regained its menacing demeanor, though a flicker of irritation crossed its distorted features.

"You think you understand the complexities of our plans?" it sneered, the menace in its voice now tinged with condescension. "You are nothing but pawns in a much larger game, one you are far from comprehending."

Bubbles rolled her eyes, her resolve hardening despite the fear still gripping her. "Well, if you're going to kill us anyway, then why not tell us your plans? It's not like it makes a difference now." She then turned back to her friends with a small note reading: “Find a distraction.”

Cesar nodded before he looked at his friend. “Come on, let’s find one of those large canisters,” his friend muttered back to Mark as the brown-haired teen holstered his gun before looking around.

"If our demise is inevitable, why the theatrics?" she challenged, trying to keep the creature engaged. "Why not just do it and get it over with?"

"Because," it began, stepping closer, its voice dropping to a menacing whisper, "the fear, the anticipation of your end, amplifies the satisfaction.Knowing there is no escape, watching you squirm is part of the joy."

“Uh-huh… right, but wouldn’t that be a waste of time if you’re trying to accomplish something?” She added.

“Also, if you’re going to be a true villain, I think it’s best if you keep your things a secret. Technically, it is common for people to be scared of the unknown, so keeping plans in secret will make the person panic, knowing that they will not know what will happen in the future, you know?”

She gestured with a confused shrug as Cesar quietly helped Mark grab a fire extinguisher.

The Perpetrator's eyes narrowed, its irritation evident as it processed Bubbles' words. "You think you can lecture me on fear?" it spat disdainfully. "You know nothing of true dread."

"But you're still here talking to us," Bubbles countered, her tone even but edged with a slight challenge. "Why not finish this and move on to your grand plans?"

The creature paused, its malevolent gaze flickering between the three humans as if reassessing the situation. It seemed to be contemplating its next move, perhaps not used to its prey questioning its methods.

Meanwhile, taking advantage of Bubbles's distraction, Mark and Cesar positioned themselves quietly with the fire extinguisher. Mark held it tightly, ready to use it as a makeshift weapon or diversion when the moment was right.

The Perpetrator finally hissed, "Because... I am instructed to toy with you, to break you down mentally before your inevitable demise. Fear is a tool, and I wield it masterfully."

“Well, clearly, you have it, but you’re using it improperly.” She rolled her eyes.

"You... you dare to lecture me on villainy?" it hissed, its voice tinged with anger. "You, a mere mortal, presume to understand the intricacies of our plans?"

Bubbles shrugged nonchalantly, maintaining her calm facade in the face of the creature's growing agitation. "I'm just offering some friendly advice," she said with a small smirk. “After all, if you're going to be a villain, you might as well be a good one, right?"

Bubbles noticed Mark and Cesar's silent communication and slight movements. She gave a subtle, barely perceptible nod, signaling that she understood and was ready for whatever they planned.

“Tell me, what is this one flaw that makes me a not-so-good villain?!”

"Well, you're doing a fantastic job of being a cliché," Bubbles said dryly, her voice a mix of mockery and bravado. “Also, a general rule for people–personally–never let your enemies know your next move.”

The Perpetrator's eyes seemed to burn with fury at Bubbles' taunt, its form swelling as if fueled by its growing anger. ""Cliché?? I show you power, I show you fear, and you call it cliché?" it roared, its voice echoing ominously through the empty corridors of the hospital.

“Yes, exactly!” Bubbles fired back with undiminished bravado, keeping the creature engaged and distracted. "You're following the villain's playbook to a tee. Monologuing, underestimating your opponents, and now losing your cool? Textbook."

The Perpetrator paused, taken aback by her audacity. It seemed momentarily unsure, its confidence shaken by her pointed critique. This hesitation was precisely what Bubbles aimed for—a moment of doubt that could give them an edge. “Oh… WHY YOU LITTLE—!”

Enraged, the Alternate lunged forward, its earlier caution abandoned in its fury. Cesar, who had quietly retrieved a heavy object—a small portable oxygen tank—swung it with all his strength at the creature’s head.

*CLANK!*

The tank connected with a loud clang, and the creature staggered back, more from surprise than injury.

Mark nodded to Cesar, seizing the opportunity provided by Bubbles' distraction. With a swift, coordinated motion, Mark aimed the fire extinguisher at the Perpetrator while his Hispanic friend prepared to act as backup.

“Eat foam, sucker!” He exclaimed.

*FWISH!*

Mark discharged the extinguisher with a determined press, sending a cloud of white foam enveloping the creature.

The Perpetrator recoiled, its form momentarily obscured by the dense cloud. The foam barrier muffled and distorted the howl, causing the Perpetrator to let out a furious cry.

“Take this!” Bubbles shouted, grabbing a nearby chair. She swung it with all her might, aiming for where she guessed the creature might be. The chair connected with something solid, a satisfying thud resonating through the room as it made contact.

The creature stumbled out of the foam, disoriented and visibly shaken. It wiped the foam from its eyes, glaring at them with renewed malice. "You think these tricks will save you?" it hissed, regaining its composure.

"We don't need to save ourselves from someone too busy being a cliché," Mark retorted, his confidence bolstered by their successful attack.

Bubbles didn’t miss a beat, stepping forward to keep the pressure on. "If you’re going to threaten us, at least bring something new. Like I said–”

“Never let your enemies know your next move!” Cesar pulled out a small red glass vial. "¡Ahora, come un maldito tabasco, bastardo peludo y sin costillas, caricatura falsa y espeluznante!" He exclaimed before throwing it to its face, smashing the Tabasco jar.

*CRACK!*

*SPLASH!*

The glass shattered on impact, splashing the creature's face with the fiery hot sauce. The Perpetrator screeched in rage and pain, its distorted features contorting as it clawed at its burning eyes. The acidic contents of the tabasco sauce worked better than they could have hoped, momentarily incapacitating the formidable foe.

"Nice shot!" Bubbles exclaimed, throwing a supportive glance at Cesar. His improvisation had given them a critical advantage.

"Thanks! I learned that one from my mom!" Cesar quipped, managing a grin despite the adrenaline surging through his veins.

With the Perpetrator temporarily disabled, Mark, Bubbles, and Cesar didn't waste a moment. "Come on! Let’s go!" Mark said as they headed to find an exit.

As they ran, the Perpetrator's enraged howls echoed behind them, a stark reminder that their reprieve would be short-lived. They needed a plan and fast. “Mark, do you know where we can get out!?” Bubbles asked while carrying Cesar by one of his shoulders over her.

“I’ve been here before, when I was born and when I had to get my flu shots!” He remarked with a slight chuckle, trying to ease up the mood. “Once we get out of here, nothing is stopping us—”

*CRASH!*

An angry roar was followed as the Perpetrator appeared behind them across the hallway, smashing a few hospital cots and stretchers along the way. It had recovered from the pain, but it was mad.

“YOU CAN’T ESCAPE!”

It spoke in a demonic-like voice before running after them at an uncanny speed and manner.

The trio sped through the twisting hallways, Mark leading the way as they dodged debris and overturned equipment. The hospital, once a sanctuary of healing, had become a nightmarish maze with the enraged Perpetrator close behind.

"Left here!" Mark shouted as they approached a junction.

*SQUEAK!!*

He skidded around the corner, his familiarity with the hospital layout coming in handy under the dire circumstances. The signage above flickered sporadically, the arrow pointing towards the emergency exit offering a glimmer of hope.

Bubbles, supporting Cesar, glanced back to see the Perpetrator gaining on them. Its eyes burned with a vicious intent, and its white mouth was agape in a grotesque snarl. Their perilous situation was stark; they were outmatched in speed and might.

"Keep moving!" she urged, feeling Cesar's weight sag against her. Despite his awakening, he was far from fully recovered, his body still frail from his recent brush with death.

They reached an emergency stairwell. The door was barred with a crash bar. Mark slammed into it with his shoulder, bursting through with a grunt. The stairwell was dimly lit, the emergency lights casting long shadows that danced with their frantic movements.

"Down!" he yelled, taking the stairs two at a time. The echo of their footsteps mingled with the distant roars of the Perpetrator, its sounds growing ominously louder.

As they descended, Bubbles felt her heart pounding against her chest, not just from the physical exertion but from the fear of what might happen if they were caught. She knew they couldn't outrun the Perpetrator indefinitely. They needed a way to stop it or delay it long enough to escape.

Reaching the bottom, they burst through the door to the ground floor. The exit sign was just ahead, glowing red in the gloom. "Almost there!" Mark pointed, his voice strained with exertion and hope.

But they weren't budging open as they stepped to the automatic doors. “Oh, come on! Please work!” Cesar hoarsely coughed and grunted as Mark pounded and tried to break through the hospital doors.

“Damn it! Why isn’t it working?” The brown-haired male kept trying to break the door. He quickly looked around and tried to find an object to break it.

There was a patient monitor, but the screen flickered violently before a text appeared, reading, “THERE’S NO ESCAPE.”

The chilling message on the patient monitor sent a wave of dread washing over them. "Ignore it! We need to find another way out!" Bubbles insisted, her voice firm despite the fear clutching her heart.

“Any good ideas?” Cesar raised an eyebrow. “Mark,” he turned to his friends. “Do you know any doors or exits that are NOT electronically charged?”

“Not sure, but we don’t have much time.” Bubbles hummed, hearing the footsteps of the Alternate getting closer.

The brown-haired man seemed to contemplate, remembering what transpired when he was trapped in his room for three days. “Cut the power,” he flatly spoke.

His Hispanic friend looked at him incredulously. “Wait, we’re just going to turn it off? But don’t these Alternates have control over technology?”

“He means we’re going to cut the power off LITERALLY!” Bubbles emphasized.

Mark nodded sharply, catching on to Bubbles' plan. "Exactly! If we cut the main power, it might shut down the automatic doors' locking mechanism. They should default to an unlocked state for safety during a power outage!"

Cesar, still weak but fueled by adrenaline, pushed himself to think. "The main electrical room should be in the basement. It's a standard for hospitals to have their main switches there for emergencies."

With no time to lose, they quickly made their way toward the basement, the sounds of the Perpetrator's pursuit echoing menacingly behind them. As they ran, Bubbles maintained a grip on Cesar, supporting him as they navigated the dimly lit corridors filled with the sterile scent of antiseptics and the sharp, metallic tang of fear.

The brown-haired male led the way, using his memory of the hospital layout from his previous visits. "Here, this way!" he pointed towards a door marked with a sign for 'Electrical Room.' He tried the handle, but it was locked.

“Oh, come on!” Cesar and Mark groaned in annoyance.

“We don’t even have time to search for the key! ¡Nosotros vamos a estar muertos!” The Hispanic teen sighed.

“I can try lock-picking it,” Bubbles said, pulling out her hairclip. “However, considering it is not a hole lock, it'll take some time.” She eyed the shape of the keylock.

Bubbles inserted her hairclip into the lock, her fingers working with practiced precision despite the tremor of adrenaline coursing through her. Each click and scrape was a silent symphony of hope as she manipulated the tumblers within. Mark and Cesar kept watch, their eyes darting nervously down the corridor, listening for the ominous sounds of their pursuer.

"Anytime now would be great," Mark muttered under his breath, the tension palpable in his voice as he clutched a nearby fire extinguisher, ready to use as a makeshift weapon.

"Just a bit more," Bubbles whispered, her concentration intense. With a final twist, a soft click echoed through the tense air—the sound of success.

"Quick, inside!" she ushered her friends in, glancing over her shoulder to ensure the Perpetrator was not in immediate pursuit. They entered, and she shut the door, scanning the room for the main power switch.

The basement electrical room was a maze of conduit and buzzing transformers, the hum of electricity starkly contrasting their desperate silence. Mark used the flashlight to illuminate the labels on the various panels.

“Okay! We’re here, now… uh…” He trailed off, realizing they didn’t know which panels, lever, or wires to turn off.

"¿Qué diablos es esto?" Cesar muttered in his native language. “¿¡Qué tipo de hospital no tiene etiquetas!? ¡Esto es estúpido!”

Bubbles scanned the room, her mind racing as she searched for any sign of which switch or lever controlled the main power. "We need to find the master switch," she said urgently, her voice low but determined. "Keep looking. It has to be here somewhere."

Mark nodded, his gaze sweeping over the rows of panels and switches. "There!" he exclaimed, pointing to a larger panel at the room's far end. "That looks like it could be the main power switch."

Cesar rushed over to it, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached out to flip the lever. "Here goes nothing," he muttered, his heart pounding.

*CLICK!*

*BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!*

A sudden alarm blared in the electrical room, taking the trio by surprise. “AAGH!” Mark and Bubbles yelled as they held their ears.

“Turn it off!” The brown-haired male screamed. “That’s the wrong switch! It’s going to grab attention!”

“Sorry!” The black-haired male apologized before he flipped the switch, turning the alarm off.

Cesar, still frazzled by the loud alarm, moved quickly to another switch, his eyes wide with the urgency of their situation. "Let's try this one," he said, his voice tense as he reached for a different lever, marked somewhat ambiguously with a warning sticker.

With a determined pull, the room was plunged into darkness as the main power was successfully cut. The only light now came from Mark's small flashlight, its beam flickering slightly in his shaking hand.

"Did it work?" Bubbles whispered, her voice low in the sudden silence that followed the system's powering down.

"We won't know until we get back upstairs," Mark replied, his voice steady despite the circumstances. "Let’s move quickly. The emergency lights will kick in soon, and that thing might still be on our tail."

The trio navigated their way back through the basement corridors, moving as swiftly as possible in the dim light of Mark's flashlight. The eerie quiet was unsettling, but they pressed on, driven by the need to escape.

Footsteps began to pick up as they looked everywhere for the source, and there it was—The Perpetrator—chasing after them.

"OH FUDGE! GO, GO!"

Clean Bubbles scrambled in panic as she grabbed Mark and Cesar, carrying the boys over her shoulders with an arm before running at an uncanny speed, slightly faster than the Alternate.

“Damn! Are you a muscle woman!?” The Hispanic male exclaimed.

“What the hell!?” The brown-haired male was equally bewildered by the unexpected uncanny speed.

Reaching the ground floor, they hurried towards the main exit. This time, as they approached the automatic doors, there was a faint hum of the emergency backup power kicking in, and the doors slid open with a hesitant stutter.

"Go, go, go!" Mark shouted.

But before they burst through the doors into the cool night air, the Perpetrator pounced up from behind, slapping Bubbles with a clawed hand while she carried Mark and Cesar.

*WHAM!*

The impact force sent Bubbles tumbling forward, sprawling onto the ground, away from the hospital exit. The sudden shock of hitting the floored tile jarred her senses, but her concern was immediately for the boys she had been carrying.

Mark and Cesar, propelled by the momentum, rolled away on the ground, groaning as they stopped.

The boys scrambled to their feet, glancing back with alarm at Bubbles, who was struggling to rise. The Perpetrator towered over her, its grotesque grin widening as it prepared to strike again.

“Bubbles!” Mark shouted, rushing toward her, but Cesar grabbed his arm and held him back.

“We need another plan! Rushing in won’t help!” He hissed, scanning the area for anything they could use.

Bubbles coughed, shaking her head to clear it as she tried to stand, feeling the sting of the attack. Her eyes narrowed as she faced the looming creature. “You think you’ve won, huh?” she snarled.

*BAM!*

“AGH!” She coughed as a clawed hand grabbed her and slammed her body to the floor, its nails digging through her clothes and into her flesh.

The Perpetrator chuckled darkly, its grin stretching impossibly wide. "And who's going to stop me? You?" it sneered, its voice dripping with contempt. “You mortals can’t defeat us!”

“Are you sure? You still have that Celestial Artisan kicking your butt.” She remarked despite the pain.

The Perpetrator's eyes flashed with malice at the mention of the Celestial Artisan. "Ah, but you see," it hissed, leaning close, its breath cold, "the Celestial Artisan isn't here now, is she? Just you, weak and alone."

Bubbles grunted under the creature's grip, struggling to free herself. Her eyes flickered to Mark and Cesar, who were frantically looking for anything to help.

"Who said I was fighting alone?” She gasped. “Also, you’re still terrible at being a good villain.”

“Shut up!” It snarled.

“Dude, you’re letting me talk to you so casually and not getting me to scream in agony.” Bubbles rolled her eyes at him.

The Perpetrator's grip tightened on Bubbles. Its frustration is evident in how its shadowy form quivered with rage. "Perhaps I should rectify that oversight," it growled, its voice low and menacing.

"No need to, because by the way, you fell for that one universal saying and trick people say." She cut it off.

"And what is that?"

"Never let your enemies know your next move!"

Mark dashed forward, holding the defibrillator paddles charged and ready. His movements were swift, the result of adrenaline-fueled desperation. Cesar was beside him, carrying a metal pole he had grabbed from a broken bed frame, acting as backup.

The Perpetrator's attention snapped back to Mark, its eyes widening as it realized too late that it had been distracted by Bubbles. Mark pressed the paddles against the creature's skeletal, shadowy form as he neared. The electrical discharge crackled loudly in the quiet hospital corridor.

*ZZAP!*

The Perpetrator convulsed violently under the shock, its grip on Bubbles loosening. She scrambled away, gasping for air, her clothes torn and her skin marked from the claws. The creature stumbled back, its form flickering and distorting like a static-filled TV screen, momentarily disoriented by the sudden electrical assault.

“Now, Cesar!” Mark shouted, already retreating to ready another charge from the defibrillator.

Cesar swung the metal pole with all his might, aiming for the creature’s head.

*CLANK!*

The impact echoed through the corridor with a resounding clang, further disorienting the Perpetrator. It roared in frustration and pain, the sound chilling and otherworldly.

Bubbles, now on her feet, didn’t waste the moment. She swiftly joined the fray, pulling out another of her bladed frisbees. With a skilled flick of her wrist, she spun it towards the creature, aiming for its large, cartoonish eyes. The frisbee sliced through the air with deadly precision.

*SLICE!*

The frisbee cut a shallow gash across the creature's face, causing it to shriek and recoil further. Bubbles found a discarded IV stand. She swiftly ripped the metal pole from its base and wielded it like a spear.

The Perpetrator, reeling from the repeated electrical shocks, was slow to defend itself against Bubbles' improvised weapon. She thrust the sharp end of the IV pole forward with all her might, aiming for a weak spot in the creature's armor-like skin.

*THUNK!*

*SPLACK!*

*SQUISH!*

The pole tip pierced through, causing a dark, ichorous liquid to ooze. The Perpetrator shrieked, its voice echoing a terrifying mix of human agony and otherworldly rage. It flailed wildly, attempting to dislodge the pole, but Bubbles pushed forward, driving it deeper.

"Let's move! Now!" Bubbles commanded as the Perpetrator began to falter. The creature's movements grew sluggish, its attacks less coordinated. Sensing their advantage, Mark and Cesar supported each other and limped towards the exit, their bodies bruised but not broken.

Bubbles gave the IV pole one final push before turning to join her friends. As they neared the automatic doors, she glanced back to see the Perpetrator collapsing to the ground and struggling to remove the pole from its chest.

They burst through the doors into the cool night air. The sudden change from the hospital's claustrophobic atmosphere to the open, breezy outside world felt like a liberation. The hospital's exterior lights flickered ominously behind them, casting long shadows across the parking lot.

"We need to get out of here fast!" Mark said, panting heavily as they left the building.

However, Clean Bubbles paused in her tracks, looking at the hospital halls. She knew how fast Alternates could run, and if they could catch up with them, then they’d be running nonstop until they were dead.

“Bubbles! What are you doing!?” Cesar hissed. “The lights will turn back on, and the door will shut!”

*CLICK! Click! Click!*

“Keeping it at bay.” She remarked, not moving from her place as she looked at the abandoned hospital.

“What!?” Mark stopped and looked back. “What are you thinking!? Are you going to die for us!?”

*CLICK! Click! Click!*

“I know I won’t die.” She clenched her fist with determination as the emergency power started to kick in. “But listen,” the blue-and-black-haired girl turned to them.

“If this Alternate can follow us anywhere, we’ll be constantly on the run. However, if I can get this guy trapped somewhere in the hospital, then it won’t chase us.”

“What about you!? Don’t push us away like you did last time!” Cesar exclaimed.

“I’m not, but fine then. Come get me if I don’t return from the hospital after 30 minutes.” She nodded.

*CLICK!*

*SLAM!*

The lights flickered on, and the automatic doors were sealed shut, locking her and the boys apart.

#original character #anon {mandela catalogue x oc!reader}#Anon {Mandela Catalogue x OC!Reader}#mark heathcliff #cesar torres #tmc oc #tmc x reader #tmc #tmc mark #tmc the perpetrator #tmc alt cesar #alt cesar #the mandela catalogue #the mandela catalog #mandela catalogue #mandela catalogue mark #mandela catalogue oc #mandela catalogue cesar

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96nights · 2 years

Text

On the clock | Spencer Reid

CW: Marijuana use, Swearing, Age gap

Tags: Bisexual Spencer Reid, Male reader, Black Reader, Male reader w/dimples, S1 spencer reid

Summary: Spencer hangs out with this stoned kid to help catch somebody on the case

ENJOY ♡

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Spencer walked into this dark area he didn’t know what to do but Hotch had made him go because “their more your age” and he was honestly a bit please he was barely on field today until he walked in the smell of marijuana and alcohol making him nauseous but it was so addictive and he didn’t know what to do so he walked over to this kid who’s eyes are puffy and looked so heavy on his face as he flicked his blinged lighter on the blunt spencer’s thought racing ‘god’ sitting down right next to him leaving to inches of space for movement

“Hello” his voice shaking as he says hearing the cracks as the guy turns lifting dreads off of his face to get a clear view of the pale guy with his hair tucked behind his ears and slightly uneven middle part before putting out the blind and setting it on the table

“Yo, you need something” honest to god spencer forgot that the team is listening in on the conversation but either way he didn’t care “yeah uhm how are you? do you mind answering, uhm a few questions” digging in bag for his looking for his badge “ heh…I’m good” chuckling at the seems as he bites the tip of his nails “right” pulling out his badge flipping it open “I’m Spencer Reid I work fo the BAU unit” “mhm . . “ “may I get your name” “Y/n” “ Alright thank you Y/n, have you seen a tall women here with possibly dark clothing and tattoos and neon dyed hair” chuckling loud before coughing “that’s half of the bitches here” Spencer looking around “uhm yeah” “I mean she comes in here doesn’t smoke or drink just sits” what’d you need” putting your hand on his knee not aware of anything but his perky nose

“Oh you mean Mary Jane yeah she just comes in and sits glaring at everyone” “Mary Jane is her name?” “Oh no it’s a fake she’s a dealer so we just call her that her real name is Elizabeth Jane Lewis” “oh okay thank you for your time” Spencer says standing up grabbing his badge “woah were you going white boy” spencer making a nervous chuckle before speaking “I have to go back to my team” standing up next to him walking closer “can I get your number” Spencer debating in his head if he should give it to you. As u walk closer standing face to face you locs hanging right in front of him as he lifts them up on examining your features “hmm?”

“Sorry,it’s just you’re really pretty” you crumble at the thought of someone finding you pretty leaning in closer as you lift up his chin “so fbi boy how about the number” honestly he was blushing mess he was trying to stay put together “uhm sure” you never expected him to agree but here we are “it’s 555-123-978” as you wrap your hands around waist with your forearm right besides his bag finally leaning in for a kiss as Spencer puts his around your face licking your lips to enter as you open them and slides his tongue in as you guys fight for dominance slowly pulling away as Spencer let’s go if your face as he starts checking the time “look I gotta call me later okay” you smile as runs away he’s so cute

END ♡

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Extra if you want to read it

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On the plane Spencer was quite fidgety wondering if we could get fired for making out with a guy he didn’t know on the clock as he getting ready to confess to it, as someone called him he immediately knew it had to be you no one else calls him which drew attention to him on the plane as Spencer picks up the phone “who’s that?” Turning to hotch thinking about his words before he just spilled and rambled on about how you smelled like strawberries and then decides to pick up before anyone can get a word out “HIII FBI BOY” chuckling to himself “ My name is Spencer and isn’t like 2 am over their” “yea” “mhm look I’m on the plane back so I’ll call you later” “alright talk to you soon” your voice made Spencer so happy as he hung up saying bye for the third time “Pretty boy so you made out with a stoner dude who smells like strawberries and has locs” Spencer was waiting for judgement but Derek and Emily said at the same time “niceee”

———

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #x male reader

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distracteddegenerate · 4 years

Text

Carnation

Yuta x Fem!reader

Warnings: period sex, lots of blood mentions, yandere undertones for Yuuta, TW.Dubcon if you squint I just want to be safe lol, unprotected sex, smut

Got super carried away with this one which is why it’s so long lol. I decided to combine the asks since I have got a lot for Yuta. Second anon if you’re uncomfortable with this fic which is understandable lol just shoot me another ask and I can do something else for you.

You lay curled in your bed, the sheets and pillows a mess around you, a fluffy hot water bottle cradled tightly to your front. The side of your body you laid on was beginning to ache from pressure, and you felt flush from heat, but you dared not move. You dreaded the intensifying of the stabbing pains your own body was wretchedly subjecting you to. Of course today would be the heaviest of your period, the day you had scheduled for a study session with Yuta. He was due to come over in about half an hour, and your pains were yet to ease up at all, despite the painkillers you had recently downed. You could cancel, yet, this was the first ever study session you had set up with your handsome friend, and you were loath to cancel it over something that would clear itself up eventually.

You closed your eyes, and pulled the hot water bottle you gripped like a lifeline closer to the source of your suffering.

~~~

*knock knock*

Fuuuuck. Was it that time already? You groggily sat up, releasing your water bottle and in replacement lightly pressing your hand against the throbbing pain that was starting to surge more strongly in the pit of your belly. You gently placed your feet on the ground off the side of your bed, and rose onto the balls of them just as delicately. You began your gloomy shuffle towards the entrance of your room, fixing your ruffled hair into place.

You pulled the door open on yourself slowly, croaking as Yuta’s tired but docile face materialised into view.

“Good evening, (Name)-chan.” Yuta had his hands in his pockets and wore a kindly smile, the only thing betraying his pleasant demeanour being those familiar dark circles dusking the underside of his eyes. Dreary though they appeared, you could swear you saw a specular shimmer dance across his irises when he registered your form.

“Ah good evening to you too, Yuta! Come in and make yourself at home, I have some stuff set up on the coffee table.” You tried your best to look as perfectly in humour as you could, to not draw any attention to your current pain stricken condition. Must have been good enough, as Yuta had nodded in response and was now making his way over to nestle himself onto one of the pillows you had placed next to your make-shift study station.

You yourself was headed to the kitchenette, about to ask what Yuta wanted to drink when a sharp stab erupted from your core. You threw your hand onto a countertop and visibly winced, when you noticed Yuta’s widened eyes had been following you.

“(Name)! Are you okay?!” Yuta’s expression was alarmed, prepared to pounce up from his seating.

“Uh- I er uh- tripped over! Nothing to worry about!” You were blushing slightly, but righted yourself regardless and tried to stand as straight as you could. Yuta seemed slightly confused, and whilst he opened his mouth to speak you interrupted him with a casual “So what would you like to drink?”

“Er.. I’m fine actually, I had something before I left home... actually I think you should come sit down, er, carefully.” He still looked a little concerned. You nodded your head and made your way over to his side. Settling yourself down, you could feel more pain pulsating within you, a low rumble threatening another great stab like you had experienced just. You drew your legs to your chest in an attempt to alleviate it slightly, and picked up your copy of “a comprehensive guide to the relation of curses and the law”; holding it open in front of you.

You could feel Yuta’s gaze still trained on you.

~~~

“So, although the police would have to intervene if someone was hurt or killed in the incident, sorcerers still have the right to- er - (Name)?”

Crap. You were too focused on the waves of torture oscillating in your guts to keep your attention on Yuta explaining the info that went over your head in class to you again. And he noticed. You looked up at him softly, and offered a subdued “sorry.” You didn’t really have energy to maintain your act of being fine anymore. His eyes looked concerned. You turned your head to the floor and fiddled with your hands.

“Hey, (Name).” You heard him shift and alter the positioning of his legs. “Is it that time of the month?”

What?! Who asks that like this?!

You threw your head back up to look at him, your face red and mouth agape. He threw his hands up defensively.

“Sorry, sorry!” He hurriedly turned his gaze into the distance and rubbed the back of his neck. “I just.. I have a little sister, so I’m used to this sort of thing, or at least I know a bit more about it than other guys.” He looked back to you. “It seems like the pains at least are distracting you from your studies, if you need painkillers or something.. I can go get them for you.”

“I er...I already tried that… doesn’t work out that well for me.” Was your meek, barely audible reply. You played with the tassel of the pillow you were sat on. Yuta looked pained on your behalf.

“Y’know… I read online somewhere that there’s always something you can try out failing all else.” He caught your gaze, and held it intently.

It must be too good to be true, how would Yuta know some hidden method that you (as someone who experienced periods) didn’t know about for dealing with the pains?! Your eager look betrayed itself when a switch flicked in your head and your expression turned into one of astonishment. There’s no way he’s gonna suggest…

“Org*sms.”

You’d known Yuta for awhile now, but you had no idea just how… artless he was. Where was his tact?! Your cheeks burned from embarrassment. You felt like your face was about to explode.

Looking at him though, he was practically unfazed! As if you were going about some matter-of-a-fact order of business. What was this situation!

“I-is.. that a joke Yuta?” Your hands were curling into tight balls.

“Of course not, (Name). You look like you’re in so much pain. I just want to help alleviate it.”

What the hell did he mean by that? Like you will just hop up right now and go jerk yourself in the bathroom as casually as using the toilet.. Or.. could he have meant..

You felt Yuta’s hand settle on your thigh, as he leant down further towards you. “I can help you out (Name)-chan.”

You couldn’t deny, you’d always found Yuta handsome, but for things to move along this quickly… and of all times! Surely his level of straight-forwardness defied all social conventions, and yet, it was working. The feel of his hand resting on you, his hungry stare, the way he loomed over you, chest rising and falling intently. You could feel a different kind of ache emanating from your lower parts.

His hand drifted further up your body, coming to stop just below your belly button. “I want to help you… (Name)-chan.” You looked into his dark eyes. They were intense, hungry. You could swear he was salivating.

“B-but Yuta.. I-I’m.. You know! Isn’t that.. Gross? For you?” He shot you a sheepish grin, hiding his eyes in an evasive fashion. His hand travelled downwards once more, snaking up the inside of your loose-fitting shorts and looping his fingers over the sides of your panties. He toyed with them, rolling the cloth over your skin and lightly pulling at them. “I don’t think any part of you is gross, (Name)-chan.” His eyes flicked open again, drawing you back into his intensity. “I think every part of you is beautiful, even.” You could sense his earnestness, and it made your cheeks burn. You went to throw your hands up to them, but he quickly caught them in his. “So, what’s your answer?” He planted a kiss in your palm. “Do you want my help? (Name)-chan.”

Fuck.. the way he looked at you. Those ferocious, hooded eyes. Those calloused hands, usually wrapped around a katana, wrapped around yours right now. The burning you felt between your legs. God yes. God, you wanted it.

The alleviation of pain (and studying) was an afterthought.

~~~

Yuta had returned back to your living space with a towel from the bathroom. What? you didn’t want to get the floor messy. You could see an erection straining tightly against his black pants.

Fuck, you were really gonna do this. He set it down flat on the floor, and invited you to come situate yourself on it.

~~~

After removing his shirt (It was white, after all), Yuta knelt himself down in front of you. He had a certain glint in his eyes, almost conflicting the harmless smile that he also wore, as if he wasn’t about to blissfully pound your bloody c*nt into oblivion. He undid the front buckle of his pants, a bulge emerging, the explicitness of his bare dick concealed by gray underwear. He began palming at the protuberance. You eyed the display curiously, when you had a sudden realisation.

“Y-Yuta, w-what about… protection?” you asked, uneasily.

“Hm? (Name)-chan, you’re on your period, remember? You won’t get pregnant.”

“B-but..”

He cut you off. “I don’t have anything. Trust me.”

You nodded and grunted in acknowledgement. Yuta was always a trustworthy figure for you. Your strong, reliable friend who you could always depend on. He always took care of you, even during skirmishes with curses, arriving at your side before things even had the chance to get particularly hairy.

You watch Yuta as he tilts his keeling body forward, his hands landing on your ankles before travelling upwards, spreading your legs open in the process. You feel yourself blushing once again, tossing your head to the side. You can feel the front of your damp p*nties being touched, jumping in slight surprise at the abrupt action before Yuta starts rubbing at your cl*t through the fabric. He notices your breathing falter.

“Do you like it, (Name)-chan? Do you like how it feels when I rub you there?”

You mumble a small “yes.”

He’s applying more pressure to his administrations now. “Do you want me to take your p*nties off? So I can touch you properly?”

You answer yes again, this time more hastily.

With that, he curls his fingers over the sides of your p*nties, dragging your legs into the air as he twists his body appropriately in order to shimmy the restrictive fabric off of you. He casts them to the side, before pulling your trembling limbs back into their previous position. Once he settled them back down, he kept his hands on your thighs as he drank in the glory of your exposed c*nt quivering before him, the string of your tampon peaking out in a taunting manner.

You heard him cooing at you quietly. “Beautiful.”

You cringed, wondering if he’d still be thinking that when he’s stained with blood. Even so, you couldn’t help but melt under the feeling of his fingertips tracing circles into your inner thighs. The way you felt a thumb flick over your n*ked sex.

“Is your stomach still hurting you?” The sudden question snapped you out of your stupor.

Truth be told, you’d almost completely forgotten about your pains you were so caught up in the moment, but something held you back from saying so. As if Yuta would stop touching you if you let him know the “reason” for the two of you doing this was almost completely resolved. And, you were relishing in the tenderness of his comforting too much for it to stop.

“Y-Yes..”

Yuta bent further over you, his head looming over your core. He sunk down, his face leaning into the space of your skin where your tummy and pelvis met. He planted a light kiss there.

“Well, I’m gonna make you feel better.”

His grip on your thighs tightened as his head lifted, his presence shadowing over you once again as he held himself higher. Your heart pounded. He leaned further on your left thigh and removed his hand from the other, as you felt fingers poking at your aching heat again.

Could you feel… pulling?

You felt a horrible, obscene slick escape you suddenly when Yuta yanked out your tampon. He pinched it limply in fingers, observing it slightly before placing it on the towel you shared.

“Yuta?!” You whelped. It was ironic. The two of you were sharing an intimate moment with each other, almost completely exposed. But this? It felt somewhat... invasive.

You could sense Yuta shrugging. “It needed to come out.” Before you even had a chance to respond, you could feel him caressing your folds. He was circling his thumb over them, the peak of the eclipse swiping over your cl*t. “Don’t worry, (Name)-chan you look beautiful.”

You looked to him, but he didn’t return the gaze. His stare was boring into your most private parts, hungrily eating up the view. The calloused hand still wrapped around your leg was gripping on tightly, as you felt Yuta dip a finger into your sopping c*nt.

“Fuck.. it’s so.. wet.”

Well, that was a given you supposed. But you knew a lot of what was down there was also probably your usual feminine slick, with the way he was making you ache. He continued pumping his finger in and out, the motion becoming deeper and rougher, him gaining confidence in what you were willing to take in. You could feel your muscles strain around it.

“That’s three.”

“Wait, w-what?!”

“Three fingers, (Name)-chan. You’re drenched down here.” You felt him remove his digits, Spreading them out across your lips. You then felt him draw a line across your inner thighs that intersected your p*ssy in the middle. Was he… playing in it? You decided not to question, you were too caught up in a wanton haze, hips bucking upwards, begging for his touch to return to your most sensitive parts.

“Y-yuta..”

He looked at you and smiled sincerely. “-just need to make sure you’re nice and loose for me, (Name)-chan.” Before you could react, plunging fingers speared your weeping c*nt, pumping with violent pace. You yelped and crumpled in on yourself when you felt his fingers curl against your velvety walls, yielding against the pressure. You squirmed underneath him even more when he began spreading them, parting your insides. You hummed, laying your hand over the top of his head, entwining yourself in the strands of his hair.

He shifted into your touch. “God, love this. So fucking beautiful.”

He peered at you from beneath those dark lashes. “You think you’re ready?”

“Hm?”

“For my cock.”

At that, you nodded, releasing your grasp on his hair and trailing your hand down his chest as he straightened himself, looping his fingers over the sides of his boxers, staining it with blood. He tugged them down, his painfully erect dick springing out into open air. You found yourself surprised at the length. Yet, He was focused on you. Pointing at your top half he asked you, “Can you take all of this off?”

You nodded and complied hurriedly.

When you were done Yuta was quick, grabbing your knees to hold you in place, leaning over to plant yet another doting kiss on your body, This time in the space between your bare breasts. You felt him begin to push into you. He managed the entirety of his length, before pulling himself almost all the way out again. You noticed how he looked down, admiring the sheen of your blood now coating his member. He quickly snapped his hips back into you again, and began assuming a steady pace of rutting. Your legs found themselves wrapping around him, your ankles cross sectioning across his taught upper back. You wanted to tell him it felt good, but the most you could manage was a weak moan.

That seemed to set something off within him. He lunged over you, enveloping your entire body with his own. He planted one hand on the towel beneath you, firmly beside your head. The other found itself groping a t*t, clawing over it to pinch your hard nipple, surrounding the ar*ola with petals of red. His pace was raw and piercing, but the slight discomfort you felt was laced with a more intense pleasure.

You heard him groan. “-god.. You feel so good. Fucking you like this.. It’s just so.. primal.” He was lightly scraping his nails against you, tracing trails of scarlet down your body. You understood what he meant by that perfectly. The way he was looking down at you, almost slavering at the lips at your vulnerable form, like some wild animal lost in it’s lust.

The feeling of it, the sounds of it. It was also so expl*cit. Yet so gratifying.

You lost yourself, allowing Yuta to abuse your lower half as he pleased, even matching your hips to his punishing motions. The l*wd squelching noises as he fucked into your excessive wetness, the way he played with your sensitive nipple at the same time, your entire being yearning into his ministrations.

“I-I’ve always dreamt of this, (Name)-chan” You were too lost in a fucked out haze to really respond, humming lightly as you stroked the arm gripping your breast. His pace got even quicker then, rougher. His form that was already entirely draped over yours weighed down on you with even more pressure, the slap of his bucking hips against your buttox resounding loudly. It’s all too much, your legs weak when you cream his c*ck, a wave of release gushing out of you as your heat throbs wildly.

Your limbs go weak as you reel from the org*sm, your walls spasming around Yuta as he continued his bucking.

Yuta’s gaze rests on your dazed expression, his dark eyes settling over you. “You needed my c*ck didn't you?” He moves the hand that was on your bre*st to caress over your face. “Desperately. I know you did.”

You felt Yuta’s pace get rougher, losing it’s steady tempo as he chases closer to his climax. He thrusts into you heartily a final time before his release spills into you, closing his eyes as he rides out his orgasm out slowly and tenderly. He remains inside for sometime after, rubbing your hips with his thumb as he admires the mixture of c*m and blood streaming out of your hole and cascading down his dick.

“Beautiful.”

He looks to your face now, smiling gently.

“So, do you feel better now, (Name)?”

#jjk #yuta okkotsu #yuta okkotsu x reader #jujutsu kaisen #okkotsu yuta x reader #reader x jjk #jjk x reader #dark jjk #period sex #okkotsu yuta #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #tw.yandere #tw.blood #tw.periods #tw.dubcon #smut #jjk smut

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woniepop · 3 years

Text

feel special ༉‧₊˚✧

➜ the three times you didn’t want to be Karl’s best friend any more and the one time you weren’t

Pairing: Karl Jacob’s x Fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, best friends to lovers au, enemies to lovers au

Warnings: Mentions of bullying, cursing

Word Count: 2.0k words

a/n: hi everyone! this is my first time writing for a mcyt streamer, but unfortunately I will not be writing works for more streamers anytime soon. This is for my lovely friend basil Ly and losingvienna’s follower event, which you should definitely check out of you are in to mcyt streamers!!

I highly recommend checking @basilly and @losingvienna out if you haven’t already!!

Ever since you met Karl, you’ve hated everything about him. He was sweet, he was caring, he was everything you’ve ever wanted in anyone. From the moment he stepped foot in your kindergarten your life had become a living hell. He was great! You on the other hand, had never felt more miserable in your life. It had never occurred to you that being different was a bad thing, but apparently, to your whole kindergarten class of 26 kids, it was terrible. But, somehow, amidst the screaming kids and the poorly colored art projects, Karl only saw you.

Your fellow kindergarten classmates stared at you, perhaps a bit too judgingly, as you sat down in your seat. Feeling super excited to come to school today, your grandma has recently gotten you your very own pink sundress, equipped with a pink satin ribbon to tie a cute little bow in the back. You wanted your classmates to like you, so you had to be the prettiest you could ever be.

“Why are you wearing a dress to school? Do you think you’re a princess?” one of the children say, rather, shout across the room. And with that, the whole class starts laughing, except you.

“What? Are you trying to impress someone?”

“OOO Y/N HAS A CRUSH!”

“I bet it’s Karl”

“Of course it is. She just wants to daaaaaaate him, doesn’t she?”

With tears welling up in your eyes and boogers dripping down your nose, you quickly stand up just to take the hall pass and run to the nearest bathroom. It was humiliating, feeling like you had tried so hard to make friends just to get laughed at. It felt terrible.

You were NOT excited for your first day of high school. Why would you be? It was just another year of “light hearted” jokes about you and how you were “so different.” Settling with a seat in the back, you tilt your head down only for the teacher to walk in right after.

“Good morning, students! Welcome to your first day of Freshman Year! I’m sure you’re all very excited for these next four years, but before that why don’t we all introduce ourselves to each other!” The teacher says, in a high pitch, peppy voice. You had stopped listening to her after that. You already knew what was going to happen, you were going to be paired up with some immature male football player looking for a tall, hot, and blonde cheerleader girlfriend, then he was going to say something stupid like, “Girls like you aren’t really my type.” No shit you weren’t his type. It happened every year. Feeling a light tap on your shoulder, you force your head up, preparing yourself for the dreadful introduction.

“Hi! I believe we’re partners for the All About Me project. May I sit here?” he says, pointing to the chair beside you. He, as in Karl Jacobs. The Karl Jacobs. The man, the myth, the legend, the boy that filled your entire life with “She just wants to date Karl. She’s such an attention whore.” With that, your eyes widen. You weren’t expecting him, nor were you ever this mad about anything in your life. You didn’t want to know anything about him, let alone do a whole project learning about him.

“Yeah, you can sit there.” You answer through clenched teeth.

“Thanks! I’m pretty sure we’re not going to be able to finish this within the period considering there are like 30 questions, so did you want to work on this in the library after school?” he asks.

“Sure.” You say promptly, not even bothering to make eye contact with him.

“I believe we went to the same elementary school, but I haven’t really gotten the chance to talk to you, so I’m glad we got to be partners for this project. I’m excited to get to know you.” He says, a glint of hope in his eyes. You hated it. Was he actually being nice? To you?

The rest of the period would have been answering all the questions on the list, but instead you guys had been side tracked, going off topic and talking about anything and everything. Putting aside your hatred for the boy, Karl seemed like a genuinely nice person. You had learned he loved gaming, which he was surprised you had a knack for as well.

“Well, Y/n, I’m sorry we couldn’t get a lot done this period. But, I’ll see you at the library later, and maybe we can even try out that new game you talked about tonight.” He says, standing up out of his chair and leaving the classroom. Maybe today wouldn’t be too bad after all.

ONE “Move!” you say, playfully shoving Karl off of you. It was the summer before your senior year, and you would have never guessed that you, Y/n L/n, would be spending your whole high school career with the boy you loathed most, Karl Jacobs. If there was ever anything you'd ever looked forward to, it was spending every Friday night with Karl Jacobs. That fateful day at the library was the start of the best tradition ever known to man.

“But we’re watching a movie!” Karl exclaims.

“So? You don’t need to watch it while squishing me half to death.”

“What do you mean? Have you ever heard of CUDDLING?”

“Cuddling has never consisted of MURDER.”

It was always like this. Every Friday night Karl would come to your house, your mom would gush at how handsome he was while she set a plate down of whatever food he wanted, and him telling her that she was the best cook ever. This is what you’ve always wanted, right? You had a best friend, who accepted you as you were, and you him. Despite always having heartwarming and laughter filled moments with your best friend, your heart hurt. A lot. Maybe the moment was just too heartwarming, or maybe this was the universe telling you that you didn’t want to be his friend anymore.

TWO “Hey, Karl!” she says. Ah, yes. Her. Karl’s childhood crush since what? Fourth grade?

“Oh, um, Hi!” He replies. There it was. That dreadful pain in your chest that only grew bigger as she sat down right next to him, disregarding the fact that you were sitting right there. The way she twirled her long blonde hair, the way she leaned over to show all of her cleavage, the way she wore skirts so short you could almost see her underwear, and the way it made your blood boil and your heart hurt until you couldn’t handle it anymore. You wanted to walk away so bad, but as Karl’s best friend you should support him in his romantic interests, even if you didn’t like them.

“So… I’m sure you’ve heard already. I broke up with my boyfriend.” she says, tracing her finger up and down his arm, making him noticeably very nervous.

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m always here.” You hear him say. Of course he was always here. He was there for everyone, and he would never try to exclude anyone from his kindness.

“I broke up with him because of you!”

“W-what”

“I want to be with you, silly!” she says. And with that, you felt your whole world go black and white. Did you hear her correctly? She wanted to be with him?

“I- I’m sorry, I can’t be with you.”

“WHAT?!? BUT I BROKE UP WITH MY BOYFRIEND JUST TO BE WITH YOU!”

“Well I’m sorry, but I love someone else. You should’ve consulted me before you threw away your relationship.”

Did you hear HIM correctly? He loves someone? You couldn’t take it anymore and excused yourself. Yet again, you ran to the bathroom feeling the same pain in your chest only 10 times worse. You didn’t want to be Karl’s friend anymore. Not like this.

THREE “I can’t believe you’re moving to California, Y/n” Karl says as he pushes his hair back, sighing in disbelief. “You’re really going to leave me?” He continues, tears welling up in his eyes as he turns to look at you with his signature puppy eyes.

“I have to! It’s always been my dream to go to college there!” You reply, feeling guilty for leaving behind everything for your dream.

“But I’ll miss you!” he says, fully knowing facetime exists, and you would always visit him during breaks.

“I’ll miss you too! But, I need to do this. Can you stay strong? For me?” you ask, cupping his face with your left hand. You had gone on one of your late night drives again, parking in an empty parking lot as you have deep late night conversations. Today’s topic happened to be college, and while it had been always known you were moving across the country after high school, the day was coming closer and it all felt too real.

As Karl leans his face into your hand, he lets out a yawn. “I guess it’s time to go back then.” you say.

“No, I don’t want to. I have to spend every second with you until you leave.” he whines. You wanted to as well, but then, there it was. The stinging in the back of your heart. You were tired of it. You hated feeling this way. You didn’t want to be Karl’s friend anymore.

THE END The warm summer air blew past you as you and Karl sit atop your roof, staring into the distance in the comfortable silence that was there from the moment Karl got to your house. Neither of you had spoken a word but neither of you cared. You just wanted to be with him. What would’ve made the night perfect was if you weren’t getting on the plane the very next morning, moving across the country.

Building up as much courage as you could, you said the three words you’ve been wanting to say ever since you had become friends. You were leaving, but before that you wanted more than anything else to let him know this. “I love you.” You say, causing his eyes to go wide. You… loved him? That was impossible.

“Yeah, I love you too.” He says casually.

“No. I love you more than in a friendly way.” You reply.

“Really? Why?” He asks in disbelief.

“I don’t know. Maybe it was because you were my first friend, but it’s definitely because you’re you. I’ve been bullied almost my whole life, and you know that. But, no matter how the world brings me down, and even when hurtful words stab me, I can smile again. Because you’re there.” You say, tears rolling down your face. You pause, before continuing on about how much he means to you. “I mean, my whole life, one moment I feel like I’m nothing at all. Like no one would notice if I were gone. But then you came! And I was so happy. Or maybe it’s cause you make me feel loved. But when I’m with you, I feel so special.”

And with that, Karl makes no hesitation in cupping your cheeks, silently wiping away your tears. In that moment, he decides that he doesn't want to be your friend anymore either. Leaning in, he whispers, “I love you too.” before he crashes his lips onto yours.

#karl jacobs #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs fic #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt fluff #mcyt angst #karl x reader #karl fluff #karl jacobs fluff #mcyt x reader #best friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #mcyt au #mcytumblr #mcyt fic

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callsignmanta · 2 years

Text

Hospitalized (Day 1) Javier x Reader

a/n: i came up w this exactly a year ago today and never wrote it, so we’re starting to write it today :D

hospital au

31 days of being in a hospital stuck in the same room, they start off as strangers but fall in love by the end: end with them dancing to everybody loves somebody

DAY 1

8AM

Bright lights. White sheets. Beeping. Surgical masks. Hospitals were your worst enemy. The cold anti-bacterial feel of them, the fear of what you’re being diagnosed with, having to share a room with a stranger, and questioning whether anyone will visit you. It’s a nightmare. But some drunk driver managed to land you here, and you’re stuck in this room for a whole month. Having to put away all your projects to stay here and recover was bad enough, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the news that Dr. Slate was about to give you.

“Ms. L/N?” Her voice rings out, curls upon her hair bouncing into the room. Although you undeniably hated hospitals, she made it a bit more bearable, with her kind words and bringing me normal people food. You groan and sit up when she gets to your bed, if you can even call it that. Assuming that this was another blood test, you reach out your hand, turning away and praying for the best. “No need miss, this isn’t a medical check up.”

“What is this then?” You quirk an eyebrow. Left with little friends and family which lives abroad, you know it won’t be about visitors, so it’s either going to be a miracle and you’re being let out early, or a nightmare and something terrible’s happened.

“Today, we had a patient which fell off a horse at a ranch and landed in a ravine. His wounds are severe and he’ll be having similar treatments to you, so the rest of the doctors and I have made the choice to room him with you.” The sympathetic look on her face is all that stops you from screaming. Really? Some farmer guy that fell off a horse? All you’re thinking of is the high possibility of him being some old republican man, and you throw your hair into your hands in despair.

“Do you have to? Are there no other rooms?” You bargain with Dr. Slate, begging for her mind to change.

“There are, however-“

“Then why not put him there?” You whine, turning your head into your pillow.

“The board determined that it will be simpler to have you in one room and share treatments than have to do everything twice and move equipment around.

“Fine, fine, now leave me to wallow in pity,” You joke, Dr. Slate messing up your hair as she leaves. Truly, you are grateful for her. She makes you feel at least a bit normal in this dreaded building.

10AM

After Dr. Slate brought you the news, one of your coworkers visited you, and brought a bouquet of daffodils: for friendship, she said. You have no idea whether that’s right, but you really couldn’t be bothered to search it, not in your state of depression. Following that, you passed out and woke up a few hours later, praying that your news was all just a dream.

Picking up the nearest book to you on the bookshelf, you hope for a distraction.

“Great, communist fucking pigs” You grumble at the sight of ‘Animal Farm’ by George Orwell.

“Animal farm?” An unknown voice echoes from the other bed in the room, making you jump.

“Jesus Christ-“ you turn around, now aware that your new roommate is here already. Just from the fact that he guessed what book it was from your comment, you could tell that this was going to be insufferable.

“I heard you weren’t too happy when you found out about rooming with me?” You still hadn’t looked at him, but from his voice, you could tell he wouldn’t be old. Finally finding the courage too look up, you prop yourself up on your elbows, and look him in the eyes. Holy shit. His eyes are striking, like a falcons, and his hair in a small bun. His skin is a glowing tan, and his hands are holding a book, but you can’t make out the title. You won’t let this distract you. You’ve decided you hate him, and you’re too stubborn to take it back now. Besides, just because he’s hot doesn’t mean he’s a good person.

“Yeah, I’m not very social in hospitals.” You bluntly reply, trying to imply you aren’t interested in conversation.

“Ah, shame for you, I’m a very talkative person, basically everywhere” You can’t place it, but his accent is beautiful. You hum in reply, returning to your book.

Five minutes. Five minutes of peace before the mysterious man spoke again.

“So how did you end up here hermosa?” So he speaks Spanish, and he’s a bit too curious.

“Some drunken fuck rammed into the back of my car on the highway, going 40 over the limit.” You roll your eyes at the bringing up of the event, still mad that you’re here because of some idiot.

“Sounds like a thorn in the side,” His comment seems understanding, like he doesn’t really want to be here either.

“A bit more than that, I hate hospitals.” You keep your slightly cynical demeanour and don’t show your appreciation for the kindness. Why should you? You barely know the guy, and when you’re out of here you won’t even remember his name. You don’t even know his name.

“Why so?” More questions. Lovely.

“They make me think of death, just everything about them. It’s too clean, too industrial.” You reason. That’s probably the first genuine answer you’ve given the man this entire time. It felt polite, so you speak again. “How did you get here?”

“Ah, I work on a ranch with my amigos, and when i was bringing a horse back from a hack, I didn’t see this stupid ravine, and ended up here. I wouldn’t even be alive if John hadn’t found me.” He looks down in shame. Guilt overcomes you, you didn’t think there would be any emotion in that question.

“I’m sorry,” You break the tension after taking a deep breath.

“Don’t be, I asked first, and I’m grateful in a way.”

“How so?”

“I don’t have to help with shovelling the stables for the next month,” He grins. His smile is contagious, you can’t help but smile too. “Of course, I can’t ride for that month too, but I’m still grateful.”

“That’s good.” A long silence ensues, the words stuck in our throats. For once, you’re the first to speak, “Not to be rude or anything, but how didn’t you know about that ravine? Like, if you’ve been working there for a while, I’m sure they would’ve warned you, ravines don’t naturally appear overnight.”

“Well, it didn’t appear naturally. Some industry, Cornwall industries I believe, made a deal with our neighbouring ranch, O’Driscoll ranch, to start drilling for oil, and they’re pushing the boundaries a bit too far.” You notice how his teeth grit and jaw clenches at the mention of Cornwall and O’driscoll.

“I’m sorry to hear that” Deciding, not to pry anymore, you leave the topic.

Maybe having a roommate won’t be as terrible as you thought. He seems like a genuine and kind person, but you’re yet to know him.

#javier #Javier Escuella #javier x reader rdr2 #x reader #javier escuella x reader #rdr2 #red dead #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #rdr #odriscoll #colm odriscoll #van der linde #van der linde gang #dutch van der linde

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ac3id · 4 years

Text

Plaything | 18+ | part i

plaything 1/ ?? | part 0

pairings: yandere! bully bakugou katsuki x fem! reader

warnings: [series] blackmail, bullying, dubcon/ noncon, filming w/o consent, yandere themes, no quirks au. ALL CHARACTERS ARE ABOVE 18 YEARS OF AGE.

↪ for chapter 1: dubcon, blackmail, humiliation, masturbation, filming w/o consent, boot grinding, a little bit of bakusquad + reader....this is filthy :D

summary: by luck you get enrolled into u.a high the best school in your town. the only catch is that the school is filled with rich, spoilt and powerful brats who just seem to hate you and among them, a certain red eyed blonde dreads you the most

↪ for chapter 1: you bump into bakugou by accident, dropping your vanilla ice cream all over him, you try to apologize and run away but wants more...oh wait why are his friends standing there recording everything too?

wordcount. 4k+

a/n: sooooo, it’s finally out! huge thanks to @sawamooora for proof reading this! helped me out a lot <3 sorry for making u sit through that mess x[

this scene was inspired by that one episode of boys over flowers where the mc’s best friend drops ice cream on the main guy’s shoe and he asks the mc to lick it off...obviously that didn’t happen in the show but it really got me thinking......

alsO the netflix show elite,,, i just saw it and knew,,,,

taglist: @mocha-focha, @erenyeagersbasement , @haribo-pop, @sunshine-fangs, @kuremis, @amazing-fandoms,

dm/ inbox/ comment to be added/ removed.

—navigation

It was a great opportunity. Never in your life would you have thought you’d manage to land a scholarship at the prestigious U.A Private Academy.

The school was a dream, the best in your city, and only affordable for the rich. Graduating from such a school could have helped you with life in so many different ways. Not only would it open doors you could never touch before, but it would help you to form connections which would make your life undoubtedly easier.

Graduating from U.A. was a blessing, but obviously, it did not come easy. It was rather unfortunate. After your previous school building had collapsed, due to some accident, the board announced its year-long closure.

At the time, you were beyond lost and understandably frustrated - it was your last year before college and you simply couldn't risk waiting the year out. The whole situation was nerve-wracking, looking for decent schools which would allow you in.

Honestly, you had no idea what you would’ve done if U.A. hadn’t called you that night.

It was the last day of the summer holidays, a week after your school building had collapsed. Luckily, no one was hurt - but the damage on the campus was severe.

You had been talking to your friends when your mother rushed into your room with exciting news. Apparently, the chairman of U.A was feeling generous. He had decided to offer four excellent students from your school a scholarship to U.A.

You were overjoyed being one of the students along with your two other friends; Shinso Hitoshi and Izuku Midoriya.

At first, the thought was a little scary - going into a completely different world than you were accustomed to. The kids there would be much different than you, you didn't want to be the laughing stock, you didn’t want to be their silly little entertainment... The thought made you nervous, but when your best friend, Izuku, called you the next night explaining how he also won the scholarship; followed by Shinso, you were relieved.

Yes, you were stepping into a whole different world but you at least had your two friends with you.

And that brought you to the first day of school.

You stood outside the huge gates of the even enormous academy all alone shaking in your little, expensive skirt they forced you to wear as the uniform waiting for your friends. You promised the two boys you’d wait for them, and besides, you weren’t planning on entering the building all alone.

Your friends, Shinso and Midoriya, lived close to each other. They were supposed to meet you at the gates of the school that morning, but they were running late. Your anxiety grew the longer you stayed there, with students filling the place- arriving in their fancy cars with their expensive bags and accessories. It easily made you feel out of place.

“Hey,” you heard someone before someone tapped on your shoulder. You quickly turned around to greet the voice. Staring back at you was Uraraka Ochaco.

You remembered she was in your school too, Midoriya has a huge crush on her.

“Yes, Uraraka? Right?” You weren’t close to her, nothing but mere acquaintances. But seeing her face - right here, right now - it made your day.

Uraraka was dressed in the same uniform as you, there was no doubt that she was one of the four kids who won the scholarship. Both of you talked while you implored her to wait for Midoriya and Shinso. You didn’t fail to notice the way her cheeks turned pink when you mentioned Midoriya. The two of them were so obvious.

Your friends arrived, they were late, but they came.

Apparently, there was an accident that forced them to stay back a little longer, but they managed to make it before the first bell.

“I actually have an old friend who goes there now,” Midoriya confesses out of the blue as the four of you enter the gates. You look at him in awe.

During the three years in high school that both of you had spent together, he had never mentioned any friend of his going to the U.A. academy ever.

“Why did you never tell us?” Uraraka asks.

“well, we’re not on good terms. He used to live in the same neighborhood before his parent’s business took off. He left after middle school.” Midoriya says, a slight frown forming on his face.

“Who is he?” Shinso asks.

Midoriya pauses briefly before explaining his entire history with a temperamental and rude blonde. Bakugou Katsuki, he calls him. His childhood friend. But from what you managed to gather, Bakugou was anything but a friend to Midoriya.

Bakugo was once just a simple boy, living a simple life, destined to do great things - but once his parent’s clothing line ‘Dynamite’ blew up and became mainstream, he started drowning in wealth. Bakugo moved out of his old neighborhood at the starting of high school before enrolling in U.A., just like all his rich friends.

“Maybe you should say hi,” Uraraka suggests. Midoriya’s expressions turned sheepish.

“About that…” he started. “I called him yesterday, got his number from mom, and-” he stopped.

“What did he say?” Shinso asked.

“He told me to get lost and die,” Midoriya said with a slight frown on his face, looking down.

That was your first impression of Katsuki Bakugou. For a man you had not even met, you sure loathed him.

School went smoothly for a week, everything was going great. The four of you kept your profile low, didn’t talk until spoken to, kept your distance, and everything was okay.

People often starred and whispered amongst each other when they saw you in the hallways, but that was about it. Everyone seemed to be decent but… there’s always a but.

Everything took a turn for the worse when you managed to piss off the wrong person, Bakugo Katsuki himself.

It was an honest mistake, not even that big of a deal - especially for his standards Yet, for some reason, Bakugo wanted to get under your skin.

It happened after your lunch break, you were on your way back to your classroom with an ice-cream cone fasted tightly in your hands. You mindlessly dashed through the hallways, trying your best to get back to class as fast as possible - you don’t want to be late. It’d earn you a bad reputation. You don’t need that- you don't want anything which could jeopardize your scholarship.

You walked straight and took a turn. Just by fate, you bumped into a stiff, hard chest making you wobble on your feet and sending your ice cream from your hand flying straight to the ground.

“Shit,” you cursed, looking down seeing what you had to work with.

The ice-cream cone splattered on the floor, the white creamy liquid flushed all over the floor along with staining an expensive-looking, black leather boot. A snarl comes from above you along with a group of chuckles. More expensive shoes come into your line of view as you realize you’re not alone.

You slowly bring your gaze up, ogling at who you just pissed off.

Staring back at you is a furious blonde, glaring at you with such intensity that it makes your stomach drop. It’s the infamous Bakugou Katsuki, you don’t want to deal with him.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you don’t give him a chance to complain as you take your flight. Quickly, you try running away but a large hand grabs your forearm, stopping you dead in your tracks.

You look to the side, deep red eyes stare right back at you.

“Where are you running off to? Don’t you think you owe my friend here a proper apology?” Kirishima says, his grip on your arm growing tighter. He towers over you, his huge body trapping you with intimidation.

Going to U.A for over a week there’s a thing or two that you’ve learned about the rich, snobby brats who own the school. Not everyone is bad, a few of them are actually but the rest are just bad.

Bakugou was the worst. From how Midoriya described him, you knew for a fact he’d be a horrible person. But hell, he managed to prove himself even worse.

He was crude, mean, downright arrogant, and ignorant. Always screaming unasked opinions on top of his lungs, and gets mad whenever someone disagrees. He acts like the world revolves around him.

Bakugo had a bunch of friends who he called his “followers” and they weren’t any better.

They just watched while Bakugou ruined everything, they were there to support him.

Kirishima Eijirou the redhead, he was captain of the football team. He was a jock, brawns over brains kind of person. Girls cooed over him and his overly attractive, hot body. It looked as if he was sculpted by God himself.

Next was Kaminari Denki. He was in the school band, dating the lead singer. And yet, he managed to find time to flirt with other girls. He was the goofball of the group, dumb and stupid But he always knew what he was doing. Even though it was barely noticeable, you could always see a devious glint in those amber eyes of his.

Sero Hanta was famous for a lot of reasons. Most notably for having brought illegal drugs on the campus and skipping classes to go down to his junkie hangout spot to smoke weed. The man had no shame. Sometimes, he’d walk into the classrooms high as fuck. The teachers couldn’t do anything even if they tried, his parents practically owned the school; he owned the school. There was no going against the tall, lanky man who looked like he couldn’t even smash a bug. He held the most power and his friends sure knew how to abuse it.

Last but not least was Mina Ashido. The one and only girl member of the self-proclaimed ‘bakusquad’. Sometimes, Jirou Kyouka, the lead singer of the school, would hang out with the boys and her boyfriend, but she wasn’t a permanent member. Mina was.

In your opinion, Mina was a nightmare dressed like a daydream. With her short, pink hair and bright smile, she seemed like an angel. But she was the devil. Worse than even Bakugou, perhaps.

She knew everything about everyone, she had leverage galore: screenshots ready to leak, videos ready to ruin lives. She had them all, and frankly- she scared you the most.

Kirishima pushed you back, and Bakugo caught you by your shoulders.

“That was fucking rude,” he growled, biting his fingers into your shoulder blades tight and hard making you squeal. “Are you fucking blind or something? Fucking extra.”

“I said I’m sorry, let me go will you?” Even in such a terrifying situation, you try to remain calm.

“What do you think, Sero?” Kaminari began. Your heart sank, including Sero into anything was never a good sign.

“She ruined Bakugou’s new shoes,” he continued. Bakugou’s hold on you tightened and you winced, turning back to him and returning his glare.

“Okay, what do you want?” you give in, finally. A mischievous spark lights up in his crimson eyes as flashes a cocky smirk to his friends before turning back to you with a frown. He pushes you towards Mina and she catches you with an arm around your shoulder.

“Those were expensive, right?” she looks at you and then back at Bakugou. He grunts, nodding.

“Fuck yes, I’m pissed as hell. Some fucking extra managed to ruin it.”

You look back down to steal a glance at his heavy, leather boot. The small, white stain melted away.

“What will you do to make up for it?” Mina whispers your name and you cringe. They were teasing you. For their fun, they were making fun of you.

“What can I do?” you say, sarcastically. Prying yourself away from her hold. The crowd goes dead silent before speaking. Sero is the first one to talk.

“Lick it off.”

There’s a pause, no one speaks. Your stomach drops and your face pales at the look the five of them are giving you- it’s serious. Dead serious.

Kaminari bursts out laughing followed by Sero and the others. The four of them get a great laugh but Bakugou stares at you head-on with his grave expressions burning through your soul.

“Whatcha looking at? Do it,” he commands.

The laughing dies down and Kaminari speaks, “are you serious? You want her to lick your shoe,” he can’t control his laughter, a chuckle breaks with every word.

“Yes, I’m fucking serious. Besides, Sero recommended it,” he smirks. “Do you really want to say no to him? I don’t know so much about this but-“ he leans down close to your face, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, “it might complicate your scholarship.”

There’s a twisted rhythm in his voice. He’s enjoying tormenting you. You still want to believe that they’re just messing around. That they’ll have their laughs and let you go, but the way Sero stares at you says otherwise.

“You don’t wanna do it?” Bakugou asks.

“Of course she doesn’t! That’s gross, oh my god.” Mina exclaims, earning a chuckle from the rest of the boys.

“Hey, let’s hear it from Sero himself.” Kirishima pats Sero’s back, pushing him forward. The five of them have circled around you, coiling you inside their venomous nest with you in the center. You turn to Sero with pleading eyes, looking up at his huge form, begging.

He smirks looking down at you, you look so tiny beneath bim. He wants to mess with you, even more, you look like a nice toy to him. He wants to play with it until he can’t.

“I guess, I did say that-” your blood runs cold, heartbeat picking up in nervousness. “-but you don’t need to do it.” He finishes. Your face lights up while the others groan in disappointment. Bakugou looks livid.

“Just know that, you’re the one who dropped the ice cream on Bakugou’s shoe and now you’re not even helping him out. That’s not very noble, is it? I don’t know if I even by mistake slipped that info back home- my parents might reconsider whether you truly deserve to be here or not. They don’t really like disrespectful kids who comprise the school’s name.”

Sero ends his speech with a wide, ear-to-ear grin, followed by a pat to your head.

“The choice is yours.”

You pause for a moment and think. Where they were really going to make you do it, where they were really going to humiliate you like this. They were. But were you willing to do it?

From Sero’s threat, you could tell he was serious, this was legit.

It wouldn’t have been the first time the school expelled someone who had beef with Sero, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. They don’t care about anyone but their loving son. They wouldn’t even think once before expelling you.

“What’s your answer, princess?” Kirishima teases.

Mina and Kaminari once again break into fits of laughter.

“What do you mean? She doesn’t have a choice here, kneel you extra.” Your heart hammers in your chest as Bakugou gestures you to kneel. You stop for a second, breathing unevenly- thinking. After a long, thoughtful sigh, you answer.

“No, I am not going to do it.” Your voice is meek yet clear. Even though you’re trembling under the heavy gazes of five snakes, you choose to stand your ground.

Bakugou glaring at you while the others boo.

“Aw, c’mon you don’t mean that.”

“Don’t be a little brat.”

Bakugou stays silent while the others continue to throw insults at you - calling you names and trying to make you regret your decision. You look straight forward into Bakugou’s cold, red eyes, searching for his next move. Your heart beats even harder in your chest with increased anxiety. After watching your torment for more than a few minutes, Bakugo decides he’s had enough of this game.

“Hey, shitty hair,” Bakugo starts. “Punch me.”

“What?” Kirishima asks, vividly shaken. “Why do you want me to hit you, Bakubro?”

“Punch me real hard, give me a black eye.” The confusion grows greater on everyone’s faces. You stare at him in awe, wondering what angle was trying to play.

Kirishima raises his hands in defense. “Woah, dude slow down there. I’m not just going to punch you.”

Bakugou clicks the roof of his tongue, letting out a sound of irritation. “You all are just dumb,” he starts.

“Imagine if this punny, little,” he leans down closer to you till his lips touch your ears and whispers your name with a crude chuckle. “Were to drop all her food over me, not apologize, punch and me then run away, that’d bring her into a whole world of trouble. Wouldn’t it?”

Bakugo’s words are calculated and sly, he knows exactly what he’s getting at when he starts. His voice fills you up with dread as he makes his accusations public.

“She would be expelled on spot and Kacchan could also raise charges,” Kaminari adds.

Your eyes widen in fear.

“Yeah, I’ll fucking do that.” Mina giggles. “That would succck,” she cheers. Your lower lip quivers as you stare at them in disbelief, your eyes open wide only to be covered with fear.

“Hey, c’mon, why are you doing this to me?” You feel them inch closer to you, their warmth leeching onto you the longer you stay surrounded by them.

“Because you have no fucking manners.” Bakugou snarls.

“Kiri, punch him. What are you waiting for? If you don’t wanna do it I will!” Kaminari cries, growing impatient.

Kirishima laughs before he charges Bakugou. Your heart hammers in your chest.

You think about your family, your future, and how disappointed everyone would be with you. Your dreams and aspirations, all were rooted in this school.

It was honestly sad, pathetic even. Your entire future was just a joke to these spoiled kids. These kids who could control you, and everyone else, with just a flick of their fingers. It’s unfortunate, but that’s the price to pay for a piece of the beautiful cake known as U.A... You resign yourself to your fate.

A piece of your mind.

“N-no, don’t do that. I-I’ll do it,” you murmured, your voice timid and weak. The five paused looking at each other with an ominous glint in their eyes. Bakugou was the first to speak.

“Well, then fucking get on with it. On your knees.” Obediently like a trained puppy, you got down onto your knees, not letting your eyes fall from Bakugou’s face. His red, fierce eyes barked at you with an unknown look, keeping you lost.

“Holy shit, she’s actually doing this,” Mina squealed watching you lean forward, bringing your face next to Bakugou’s expensive boots.

“Kaminari, record this.” Sero taps at the energetic blonde, forcing him to take his phone out and hit ‘record’. As you lean further to the ground, your short skirt rides up behind you, giving the audience a clear view of your round ass and pastel panties. The sight brings a smile to Bakugou’s face as he scoffs.

“Cute panties,” he remarks.

You jerk, trying desperately to sit back, but Bakugo stops you. Smashing his other foot on top of your shoulder, he holds you there facing the ground.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” he growls.

You squirm, almost falling under his weight and as much you hate to admit it, a tingle of excitement runs down your spine. This was turning you on.

A row of whistles flood in, the boys start teasing you and praising Bakugou.

“Lick it off,” he commands.

You look down at his leather boot, the ice cream almost melted. There’s still a bright white spot of the sweet now liquid splayed out. Even though it’s not a lot, it still makes you cringe. You peek your shy, little tongue out timidly, forcing yourself to do the heinous deed.

Bakugou watches you hesitate and pushes on your shoulder harder making you reach towards him.

You give in after a final attempt, diving into his wishes. Your wet tongue touches the rough, cold leather. You cringe after a single touch, closing your eyes and scrunching your nose at the salty taste. “Clean it all off,” he commands.

You dive back in, this time letting your tongue glide across a larger portion. The humiliation burns through your body. It makes you uncomfortably hot, mostly from anger and but a little bit of arousal.

“Nice ass.”

There it is. The excitement comes back the moment they start making suggestive comments, the attention riles you up and it’s horrible.

“Kaminari are you even supposed to be here? Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Mina asks at the blonde pervert who was currently zooming on your ass.

“Oh? We’re cool as long as I don’t stick my dick her,” he points to you. “That’s hella fucking tempting but I’m in love, dude.” He chuckles to himself, thinking about his girlfriend.

They treat you like an object, talking about you like you were some sort of a toy.

“Bet her pussy is tight,” Sero says.

Kirishima turns to Bakugou, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Yo, Bakubro, can we touch her?”

Bakugou looks on from watching you lick his boot and turns to Kirishima. A dark, unsettling gaze falls across his eyes as he speaks, “No. This one is mine.” he stares down at you.

You stop lapping on his shoe and stand back on your knees, buckling your knees you try to get up but Bakugou harshly kicks your shoulder, throwing you back and making you cry.

“Why did you do that?” you squeal, holding onto your bruised shoulder, glaring at him intently.

The rest of the group goes quiet at the display of Bakugou’s sudden violence.

He stands between your thighs, lazily resting his foot atop of your soft thighs.

“You’re fucking pathetic, you know that?” the angle you were spread out in had your skirt flipped over hips, displaying your pretty, pastel panties to everyone in the room.

Even though it’s subtle, masked by everyone’s fear of what Bakugou was planning, you still feel everyone’s gaze focused right on you and more specifically at your clothed cunt. Bakugou presses hard on your thigh making you cry.

“Useless Deku’s friends are just like him. The fucking second you walked in here, I knew you were just another useless insect for me to stomp on.” He pauses, smirking, pressing his foot onto you even harder, twisting his ankle to increase the burning sting surging across your right thigh. “And I’m doing just that.”

He steps off you for a moment, letting you catch your breath and recover from the burn. His eyesight travels lower down to your panties. He admires the cute pair you had on. Normally when he’d see girls naked, they’d dress themselves up the most luxurious to match his standards. But that’s not you, that could never be you.

He rejoices at the thought of seeing your flushed, tear-stained face breaking down under him. You’ll never be like those girls, always a step behind. He can build you up and break you however he likes, you’d have no say in it.

The power trip drives him crazy.

He presses the tip of his boot over your clothed clothed cunt, pushing the hard material right over your sensitive clit.

You gasp at the feeling, looking up at him with terrified eyes. He smirks down at you, moving his foot in a steady rhythm, rubbing the fabric of your cotton panties against your little pearl.

“This turning you on? What a freak.” The rest of his group basks in shock. They watch intently as the scene spiraled out for them, too captivated to make any comments. They just keep quiet and stare.

The way you squirm under Bakugou as he plays with your cute clit so unforgivingly makes them hot with excitement. Kaminari feels a little guilty but he blames it on his nature as a man.

Sero feels a little bad for you, they all do. But then again they wouldn’t waste the opportunity to be in Bakugou’s footsteps- literally.

“You’re a little slut, you know that?” Bakugou sneers.

Your gasps turn into whimpers as his simulation becomes harder. You clench your fists, desperately wishing it to be over. Tears brim in your eyes at the sheer humiliation of your corrupted form. This was just too much, too much for you to handle.

“Please, stop,” you beg, knowing he wouldn't listen. “I’ll report you,” you cry. A roar of laughter starts, shutting you up.

“Go for it, you do that.” Mina comments. Kaminari walks closer to you, bringing the camera down to your face recording your horrified expressions.

“We’ll just go ahead and post this online.” he threatens.

A drop of tear falls down your waterline following a waterfall. You cry, leave all of your dignity behind and cry. You beg them to stop but as your pleas mix with your moans, it’s hard for anyone to understand what you’re saying. It’s not like they don’t know what you’re asking them for, they just turn deaf, simply because they can.

Bakugou stops, he takes a step back, leaving you alone. You let out the tiniest cry when he leaves, ditching you just when you need his touch the most.

“Feels like I’m doing too much of the work, if you want it so bad, do this yourself.” He says. Your body still burns with desire, your clit still hard and cunt salivating, you are nowhere close to being done...

It’s as if something takes over and you are possessed by the dire need to cum, you do exactly as he says.

You snake your fingers down your panties, deliberately rubbing on your swollen little clit before pushing your finger into your drenched cunt. You cry out as you clench around your finger, the pleasure becoming unbearable. Your legs shake and you close your eyes shut.

You stay there on the floor, fingering yourself in the corridor, without any shame, while Kaminari records all of it.

“She’s gonna give me a hard-on,” Kirishima says and you moan.

“She really is a slut, huh?” Sero comments.

“She’s cute,” Mina adds with a smile.

Bakugou scoffs, “does Deku know how much of a whore you are?” He asks.

You don’t pay any attention to what he says, too busy bringing yourself to your climax.

“You’re getting all this right?” Mina looks over Kaminari’s shoulder and onto the phone screen which captures you beautifully losing yourself for everyone to see.

“You close?” Bakugou asks as you feel yourself clench around fingers tightly, he bends down on his and pulls your panties down your hips, admiring your precious cunt.

“Cute pussy,” he remarks before flicking your sensitive, hardened clit.

A rush of pleasure washes down your body as you cry while cumming. Bakugou pushes you right over the edge, a nasty grin screaming atop his face as he watches you. You curse at yourself for letting him see you like this, but there’s not much you can do but cry while you feel your juices gush around you before sliding down your thighs and onto the dirty floor.

It takes a second for you to calm down and when you do come to your senses, dread fills you up. Tears shamelessly fall down your face as you realize what you just did. The others laugh at you, without feeling any remorse.

Bakugou continues to stare at you with an unsettling look, while the others discuss the heinous crime you’ve just committed.

Sero looks down at you and you catch his dark eyes staring at you. A toothy grin scavenges his face as he speaks.

“Awesome,” he says as if he just finished some mediocre movie.

Finally, you find the courage to get up and run.

This was totally not awesome.

811 notes · View notes

maxwell-grant · 3 years

Note

If someone were trying to make a new character inspired by pulp heroes, but the new character had to be a teenager, what existing pulps heroes should they look to for inspiration?

I'm not exactly in touch with the yoof so I could be off the mark here, but let's talk about teenager characters for a bit.

Now, I could just tell you to look for characters that appeal to you and use them as a baseline and that's probably the best advice here, but if you want the essay and history lesson: American pulp fiction didn't used to market much to teenagers. Teenagers as a consuming market haven't always been the all-encompassing force they are considered today, and the pulps were largely marketed either towards young boys, or for working class men, mostly the latter. This is part of why teenagers tend to show up in these stories largely as sidekicks, which was something carried over to comic superheroes, and part of why Spider-Man was such a breakout hit, because he was a teenage superhero who was not a sidekick.

The biggest pre-1950s traditional pulp hero I can of who was a teenager would be Jack Harkaway, an 1871 penny dreadful adventurer who would go on to be published overseas, one of those characters who was big enough in his day to inspire imitators a plenty but didn't quite make it past a specific time period. Comic strips had plenty of kid or teenage protagonists who are a bit closer to pulp heroes, like Tintin or Terry Lee, one in particular I'm highlighting above is Ledger Syndicate's Connie Kurridge, arguably the first female adventure hero of American comics. Overseas you can find a couple of prominent examples of teenage adventurers published in what we call the pulp era, the biggest and most influential of which being The Famous Five, but as I stated in answering whether Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys were pulp heroes, these were not published in pulp magazines, instead their direct opposites in glossy and reputable paperbacks.

There are other examples of pulp heroes who were teenagers and not sidekicks, but nearly all of them are very obscure and you will probably not find much material for them. And the thing is, these characters were not made for teenagers. They were made, for the most part, by grown-ups, and for grown-ups, and I can't say any of them ever really grabbed a teenage audience. Usually, it's the 60s as an era that really starts to pander to and include teenagers at the forefront of storytelling, so a good start for you might be to look at what was going on in the 60s-onwards worldwide in the realms of pulp and pulp-inspired works, which probably means you're going to have to look outside of the US.

Another word of advice would be to look up characters that are beloved by teenagers. I don't think "teenager" is a great baseline trait to start building a character, but if that's the number one priority to you, then ideally you should look for a good baseline of what appeals to that demographic, what appealed to you at that age and why. You're probably going to wind up with a lot of anime anti-heroes in your research though, because teenagers are deeply miserable creatures and few things appeal more to them than characters who are miserable but they act cool and badass and edgy about it. Teenagers are forced to live with the miserable reality of being teenagers with little to no upsides, so I think teenage characters could benefit more from being based on the kinds of characters teenagers would ideally want to read about.

So, "cool, badass and tortured character super popular with angsty teenagers", "rooted in and subverting older storytelling traditions for a fresh new audience", and "60s pulp hero". I think Elric is probably as good of a place as any for you to start.

Elric wasn't just popular, he wasn't even just popular with teenagers (boys and girls alike, which is also quite the feat), he was "cool". He was avant-garde, he was the hip new thing on the block. He wasn't Conan or Bond or Batman, and you'd hardly mistake him for a hero. He got the rock albums and fans tattooing him. He was penned by the guy who was openly called the "anti-Tolkien". Elric was Loki before Loki, the edgy anti-hero before them all. The emaciated warrior with white hair and black clothes and a demonic sword who suffered in a cool way, cool in his uncoolness. When I think of pulp heroes who achieved a substantial popularity among teenage audiences, Elric is definitely the first that comes to mind.

Another good example might be Captain Harlock, easily one of the premier Pulp Heroes among manga and anime due to how heavily Leiji Matsumoto incorporates pulp space opera into everything he does. Not only directly influenced by it, Matsumoto even has actual pulp credentials as an illustrator for C.L Moore's Shambleau, Northwest Smith and Jirel of Joiry. The space pirate, while not created in manga and anime, is one of Japan's premier pulp hero archetypes, and Harlock's as good of a baseline to work with as any.

The most popular pulp-inspired works nowadays among teenage or younger audiences are definitely the ones derived from pulp horror, several creators have been getting a lot of mileage these past decades out of plundering and remixing stuff from it. The big ones are Lovecraft and related works like The King in Yellow, but because they soak up all the attention, it also means that people are sleeping on authors like John W. Campbell, William Hope Hogdson, Clark Ashton Smith and Karl Edward Wagner, Nictzin Dyalhis and Olaf Stapledon, and many, many more, which gives you a lot of narrative real estate to work with should you take this direction.

Additionally, one thing that you could consider is that, for a very large portion of the history of pulp fiction, a significant amount of the most popular stories and characters were those that were based on celebrities and real life figures. The biggest of dime novel protagonists was Buffalo Bill, and following him was Nick Carter, a literary equivalent to Eugen Sandow (the Schwarzenegger of his day). Thomas Edison inspired an entire subgenre of dime novel fiction, even Jack the Ripper was a pulp protagonist in Dutch magazines, because sometimes the term "pulp hero" doesn't take the "hero" part much into account.

The precedent for celebrity stories is older than pulp fiction itself, but it was in the dime novels and novelettes and pulps that the idea really found it's footing. The Shadow's exploits took a lot from Gibson's own experiences with Houdini (who himself starred in fictional stories, one famously penned by Lovecraft). Doc Savage was visually modeled after Clark Gable and supposedly inspired on Richard Henry Savage. Eddy Polo, Charlie Chaplin and Tom Mix were the protagonists of several pulps and comic strips across the world, as well as Al Capone (who starred in pulp magazines in Germany and Spain), who fought Nick Carter in a Brazilian story guest-starring Fu Manchu (reportedly based on real figures Sax Rohmer claimed to have met) and Fantomas. Today obviously there are much greater restrictions at play concerning celebrity images, but if dime/pulp magazines were around today, we would have quite possibly seen figures like Keanu Reeves, Tilda Swinton and Lil Nas X either star in their own magazines or be used as models for rising protagonists.

So I guess one other way you could go on about creating a pulp hero, who's either a teenager or appeals to teenagers, would be the route of taking a look at some celebrities that either are, or appeal to those demographics, because if pulp magazines had stayed around unchanged past the 60s and 80s and whatnot you definitely would have seen the likes of David Bowie, Will Smith and Dwayne Johnson get their own magazines. I don't know much about what celebrities are popular with teenagers these days and I'm not about to start caring now, but you could take a look at some icons you like, or liked when you were younger, and think about what made them appealing to think about as characters, and how you could apply that to something closer to a pulp story.

A word of advice would also be that, if you want to make a character inspired by pulp heroes, if you want to create a convincing modern pulp hero, you might want to look less at the pulp heroes themselves and instead those that they were inspired by or working to defy and stand out when compared to. You take the building blocks and rearrange them in a different way. If you have a specific character you want to design yours in reference to, you can send me an ask or a DM about them and I'll dig into my files to give you a few pointers, and what kind of history or cultural predecessors they have that you could take a look at to make something more genuine.

#replies tag #pulp heroes #pulp fiction #jack harkaway #captain harlock #elric of melnibone #bloodborne #darkest dungeon

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Danger First

Chapter 5

@pocketramblr :3

The day started off well. Really, it did. Izuku got up on time, still filled with warm fuzziness from the time he spent with his friends (friends!) the afternoon before, had a good breakfast, left early enough to catch an earlier train, saw an interesting hero fight, and then...

He was hit with a wave of nausea as he caught sight of the crowd outside UA's gates. Was it a mob? An attack? Terrorists?

... Reporters?

Yeah, those were cameras and microphones. But why was a crowd of reporters making him feel this way?

Maybe they were terrorists disguised as reporters. Or, maybe Izuku had picked up some paranoia to go with his anxiety. How fun.

If they were real reporters, they were probably here about All Might. Him cutting back on active hero work to teach had been big news.

Ughhhh. What should he do? Whoever they were, they weren't likely to leave. He didn't want to walk through them, though. What if they were dangerous? (And even if they weren't, he didn't want reporters looking at him, asking him questions. What would he say to them?)

He bit his lip and watched the crowd from around his chosen corner. Why did he have to be so wimpy and timid? He was a hero student, now. He should be better. Braver.

Oh! There was Iida!

He scuttled over to his friend.

"Ah! Midoriya! You're early today! Few people arrive at school at the same time I do!"

"Y-yeah! I managed to catch the earlier train today, so..." He looked back at the crowd of reporters. Maybe reporters. Maybe terrorists. "I think, maybe we should wait to go in as a group, though. I mean, it'll be more efficient than trying to fight through those reporters one at a time, right?"

"An excellent idea, Midoriya!" exclaimed Iida, waving his hands enthusiastically. "It's very admirable of you, to always be thinking about how to help others."

"W-well," said Izuku, blushing. It wasn't untrue, but it also wasn't the whole story. "I mean, I don't... It's more that they kind of freak me out a bit? The reporters..."

Iida nodded sagely. "There are heroes like that, too. Are you planning on going underground, then?"

There was a certain amount of appeal to underground heroics, but he was supposed to be All Might's successor. Then again, if One for All never worked properly for him and Mr. Yagi asked for it back... Quirk or not, Izuku was here, now, in UA, in the hero course, and Mr. Yagi had said he could be a hero without a quirk.

"I haven't really decided yet. But UA teaches all hero course students the three main branches of heroics, so we don't really have to choose a specialty until later, and even then there are heroes like Sir Nighteye who blur the lines, right?"

"Yes, it's one of the things that make UA such a superior institution!" chortled Monoma.

"Ah, Monoma! I agree! It is important for all heroes to be aware of the work their colleagues do, and to be well-rounded individuals!"

Monoma!?

"Um," said Izuku. "When did you get here?"

"Just a minute ago," said Monoma. "I was looking for a way around these savages when I overheard your conversation. Really, it's a shame that UA allows such rabble to prevent students from entering. If only there was something they could do..."

"I'm afraid I must disagree," said Iida. "Freedom of the press is exceedingly important for the function of society!"

Monoma looked slightly alarmed. "I don't mean to say it isn't, it's just-" he gestured at the gates, "-we can't get in. The other entrances are like this, too. It's aggravating."

"There... might be another way in," said Iida, after a moment.

"Oh?"

"Yes, my brother told me about a hidden entrance that was here when he attended UA. I suppose... I suppose these would be the right circumstances to use it."

"Lead the way, then, Iida," said Monoma.

Iida nodded stiffly. "We should wait and see if any of our classmates would like to come with us."

Several of their classmates did want to come with them, including Uraraka, Asui (who was still a little under the weather), Tokoyami (Dark Shadow was not a fan of flashing lights), and Hagakure. They were also joined by a couple of 1-B students, a cadre of business course kids, and a pink haired support course girl who seemed very interested in Iida's legs, much to his flustered confusion.

Kacchan did not join them, much to Izuku's dismay, instead choosing to bulldoze his way through the ranks of reporters, nearly giving Izuku a heart attack when he body-checked a man with blue-white hair.

At this point, their group was becoming rather large and noticeable, and Iida was getting antsy about the time, so off they went.

Iida led them to what appeared to be an entirely unnoteworthy piece of wall and knocked. There was a pause just long enough to make Iida start to sweat, and then the wall opened, revealing Midnight- Ms. Kayama!

"Oh?" she said, clearly delighted. "Chibiida using the top secret teacher's entrance? Has high school done what we couldn't? Are you finally loosening up?"

Chibiida.

CHIBIIDA.

First: how? Why? Iida was over ten centimeters taller than Izuku! Secondly: Iida was never going to recover from this.

"That- that's not it! At all! I am simply attempting to help my fellow students enter the school without being harassed by reporters, Ms. Kayama!"

"You can still call me big sis Nemuri, you know."

"I refuse! It would be inappropriate of me as a student!"

Ms. Kayama sighed. "Well, you aren't wrong about those reporters. They can be a pain. So, just this once, let me welcome you kids to the forbidden environs of the staff area!" She made a grandiose gesture with her arm. "And it's all thanks to Chibiida here."

Iida started muttering about propriety and rules.

Izuku had the feeling it would be a long day.

"All right, Hikage, in your professional opinion-"

"What does building inspecting have to do with anything?"

"What?" said Nana. "I didn't say anything about building inspecting."

"You asked for my professional opinion."

"Yes?" said Nana, already dreading where this would go.

"I was a vigilante. For the purposes of money, I was a professional, licensed building inspector."

"I thought you were a professional hermit," said En.

"I was an amateur hermit. You don't get paid for that."

En blinked. "I can't believe people let you into their buildings."

"There were a few times-"

Nana decided to table the question of how neither she nor En had known Hikage was a building inspector. "Okay, fine. Forget the professional part. In your opinion, what was going on with that one reporter guy?"

"Oh," said Hikage. "He's definitely planning a murder."

"A murder!" exclaimed Yoichi.

"Yes, and probably of someone close to Ninth."

"Why didn't you say something?" demanded Yoichi, attempting to lift the taller man up by the front of his shirt and failing.

"Because there's not much we can do about it?"

"Just because you're right doesn't mean I have to like it!" He spun on his heel and stalked up to the silent and incomplete ghost of Toshinori. "It had better not be you, do you hear me? Don't you dare pull an Obi-Wan on poor, sweet Izuku!"

"Does anyone know what he's talking about?" asked Nana.

"Not really," admitted Banjo.

"Today," said Mr. Aizawa, after he finished passing out feedback from the battle trial, "you'll pick a class president."

All around Izuku, his classmates threw their hands into the air, eager for the chance to show off their leadership skills.

Izuku kept his hand down. It wasn't that he didn't want to stand out or do the work! It was just... between training after school with Mr. Yagi and Aizawa and trying to get his anxiety under control, he didn't think he'd do a very good job.

Yoichi started disappearing his "Izuku for President" banners.

Iida, though... Iida would do well, Izuku thought. Look at him, organizing everyone into a vote.

"You're not running, Midori?" asked Hagakure.

"N-no, haha, I have too many other commitments to do a good job, I think."

"That's too bad! I would have voted for you."

There was a smattering of agreement, mostly from Iida and Uraraka. Izuku started blushing.

"R-really? Why?"

("Strawberry," someone whispered.)

"Well, you helped me out during the entrance exam, and you were pretty cool during training yesterday." More agreement. "But if you're not running, I guess I'll pick Monoma. He did get rid of the purple creep."

"Ahahaha, yes, I am clearly the superior candidate!" crowed Monoma, standing up and putting his foot on his chair to pose.

"But his personality's really weird, which is why you would have been my first choice, Midoriya."

"I think Iida would be a good choice!" said Uraraka, raising her hand. "He's super organized and he helped a bunch of us get past the reporters this morning."

More general agreement. Then Todoroki cleared his throat. Everyone looked at him.

"Yaoyorozu," he said.

That was it.

"Good point," agreed Jirou.

"A TIE?!"

As the only one who hadn't voted for one of the three in the tie, Aoyama was forced to be the tiebreaker. This was done as dramatically as humanly possible.

Yaoyorozu was now president of class 1-A.

This led to a ferocious battle between Monoma and Iida that Iida won by a single vote. Monoma was promptly chosen as class treasurer. Just in time for their other classes.

"Those who possess forbidden knowledge should stay together," said Tokoyami gravely as he sat down with Uraraka, Iida, and Izuku.

"Are you talking about the staff area?" asked Asui, who slid in after him.

"Indeed," intoned Tokoyami gravely. "The dark path we have all walked-"

"Fumi is just bad at asking people to be his friends!"

"Dark Shadow!"

Izuku almost started crying into his rice. Having friends was so great.

"I'll be your friend!" said Izuku.

"Me, too!" said Uraraka, pumping a fist.

"Ah," said Tokoyami, coughing into a fist. "I am sure we will be great companions in the darkness of the coming days."

Speaking of darkness... Izuku couldn't help but feel uneasy about... something. He had been ever since seeing those reporters.

"So, Midori, is your hair full of secrets?"

"Wh-what?"

"Don't listen to her! She's just being silly! Like a little sister."

"It's what you always say about that actor you like! His hair is fluffy because it's full of secrets!"

"So, you and Dark Shadow are like brother and sister?" asked Midoriya, changing the subject.

The conversation segued into discussion of their families, and just when Iida was extolling the virtues of his older brother, Izuku's unease spiked. He dropped his chopsticks.

"Is something wrong?" asked Uraraka.

"I... don't know? It just feels like something bad is going to-"

The school alarm promptly went off.

"Wow!" said Kirishima. "Iida can do entrances and exits! Manly!"

"Wow," said Banjo, "I guess they picked the right guy for the job, after all. He can find entrances and exits! More than my class vice president ever did..."

"Are you copying the small red child?" asked Hikage.

"What?"

"Never mind."

"Today's heroics class will be focused on how to fall safely and other basic combat techniques. Before we begin, although you may practice these techniques on your own, outside of class, if you want to spar with others, you need adult supervision until you reach a level where I'm satisfied you won't seriously injure yourself or others by mistake. Now, firstly..."

"Mr. Aizawa? Is- um. Was it really just the press breaking in earlier?"

It was time for his first special quirk training with Aizawa, and he should be asking what they were doing today (especially since Aizawa had him change out of his gym uniform and back to his regular uniform), but he couldn't stop thinking about the break-in.

"What makes you think otherwise?"

"I'm, well, I'm not sure? I just, this morning, when I saw them, I got a really bad feeling? Like something bad was going to happen. And it doesn't seem, um, logical, that normal reporters would be able to do that to UA's gate. I mean, anyone can have any quirk- no such thing as a villainous quirk. But someone with a quirk like that, they'd put a lot of effort into controlling it and stuff so stuff like this wouldn't happen by mistake. I guess a reporter could have done it on purpose, though, but then it'd be really easy for UA to find out it was them, wouldn't it? Or the police. Since heroes and police have access to the national quirk registry, so you just have to cross-reference reporters with the registry to find quirks that could fit. But would they know that? Anyway, it seems more logical for a third party to have used the press as cover to infiltrate the school. But why? If nothing is missing and no one is hurt, which would be grounds for school being canceled, the next conclusion would be information gathering. But that still leaves the question of the ultimate ends- Mr. Aizawa? Are you okay?"

His teacher had been glaring at a camera mounted in the corner of the classroom and mouthing things at it.

"I'm fine," said Aizawa. He sighed. "You are right that we haven't located the person who destroyed the gates, but please be assured that we are investigating the incident throughly. Especially Principal Nezu." He shot another glare at the camera, as if to say he'd better be.

"Regardless, it isn't something you need to worry about as a student. We're adding more safety protocols to make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Oh, okay. S-so, what are we doing today? Sensory deprivation? Electric shocks? Stress positions? Bean bag barrage for dodging? High stakes hell exam?" He was ready for anything and very excited.

Aizawa stared at him flatly. "We're... doing quirk counseling."

"Yes?"

"Kid... except for maybe the last one... what exactly gave you the idea that any of those things had anything to do with quirk counseling?"

Izuku started to get the feeling he'd seriously messed up. Except he didn't feel particularly anxious about it.

"Oh, uh, Mom used to get brochures like that in the mail, after I was diagnosed? She didn't ever answer any, but... Apparently, some people originally thought to be quirkless got quirks after being in a high stress situation."

"But no one actually did any of those things to you."

"Not really?"

"Midoriya..."

Izuku looked away. He shouldn't have said anything. He didn't like the quirk counselor at Eisley Elementary, but he didn't want to get her in trouble, either. After all, he was the only one she had to do that stuff with, since his quirk hadn't shown up...

Aizawa sighed with the air of someone exercising a lot of self-control. "Except for that last one," said Aizawa, "and that's debatable, all of those are torture techniques."

Ah. Well. That maybe explained a few things.

"They are not a normal part of quirk counseling. At some point, we may incorporate some combat into this, but that will be to help you become more familiar with your quirk. Not just for the sake of making you stressed."

"But if we aren't doing combat, what are we doing?"

"Well, first we're going to try to figure out what your quirk is. Why don't you sit down." He took out some papers as Izuku made his way to his desk. "Alright. I'm going to go through these questions and write down your answers... then we're going to go through them again while I'm canceling your quirk." He paused. "Actually, first. What did you mean when you said you had a bad feeling about the reporters?"

"If I were alive," said Yoichi, "I would be committing so much murder right now."

"I thought we left this behind when Ninth graduated," said Nana. "I thought you said you were going to forgive them because they were stupid kids and Ninth forgave them."

"Well, first off, I lied. Secondly, teachers aren't kids. If we ever get hit by a quirk that brings us back to life, the quirk counselor at his old school will be my first victim."

Nana sighed. "That isn't going to happen."

"Who's going to stop me?"

"Less a who, and more the fact that there has never been a quirk that could revive the dead."

"Meaningless!" exclaimed Yoichi. "Death cannot stop me!"

"Think he's finally lost it after all this time?" asked En, leaning towards Nana.

"No, I think he's just messing with us," hoped Nana.

"Alright, kid," said Aizawa exhaustion evident in his tone. "Between your answers, your exam results, the battle trial results, how you react when I use my quirk on you, and Monoma's assessment... Your quirk is at least partially sensory.",

Izuku tried not to feel disappointed, but that seemed rather incomplete as a conclusion. Even though he knew about Danger Sense and this probably was Danger Sense.

"Yeah, I know, it's underwhelming, but remember this is the first session. Whatever your quirk actually does, though, you seem to be using it to detect threats."

Okay, that was more in line with expectations.

"I mean... maybe? I think so. That feels right."

"We also need to figure out what it's stockpiling. Have you ever felt any particular draw to certain situations? More than your peers?"

"Um. I watch a lot of hero fights?"

"You're a fight chaser?"

"A little bit?" admitted Izuku, squirming a little.

Aizawa sighed heavily. "I seriously hope your quirk doesn't stockpile danger- don't test that."

He wasn't going to!

Probably.

Speaking of, though, what did One for All actually stockpile? Power was a very vague description... He'd just went along with it because a) quirk and b) All Might, but it would probably be good to know.

"Next time we meet, I'll be running you through the basic quirk assessment battery- that's a series of tests usually given to five-year-olds to help their pediatric quirk doctors and quirk counselors identify difficult or stubborn quirks. You should have gone through it when you were younger."

Izuku shook his head. "All I remember is the x-ray."

"Why would you get an x-ray?"

"For the toe joint? To tell whether or not I was quirkless?" Why was he saying this? He was going to blow his cover and his secret out of the water! This was so dumb.

But he did say it. Maybe it was his guilty conscience from lying to and misleading Mr. Aizawa so much.

"That's a myth," said Aizawa.

"What?"

"It isn't true." Aizawa began to slump down in his seat. "It's an old wives' tale. Everyone quirkless has the double joint, but not everyone with the double joint is quirkless. I have the double joint, as do about twenty-five percent of people with meta quirks." By the time he finished, only the top half of his face was visible.

"Oh," said Izuku. He wasn't sure what else to say. At least the secret of One for All was completely intact.

"I hate to say this, kid, but it sounds like everyone involved in your early quirk education was incredibly incompetent. You shouldn't have had to deal with that, even if you were truly quirkless. It takes just as much counseling to deal with that in today's day and age as something like, say, Ashido's quirk."

Izuku had never heard it put like that before. "Okay."

"Now, before I send you off for today, do you have any questions about anything we'll be doing? Any of the tests we'll be running, normal quirk counseling procedures, anything. It's important for you to feel comfortable about this."

Izuku's eyes teared up. This had already been a very emotional day, and he wasn't sure a teacher had ever asked him that and meant it. "Mr. Aizawa," he said, earnestly, "you're the best teacher I've ever had."

"Is that a joke?" asked Aizawa, flatly.

Izuku shook his head, centrifugal force flinging his teardrops away.

"That's messed up, kid. I'm terrible."

"You're the best," protested Izuku.

"I just need you to know how incredibly low that bar is. Your other teachers must have gotten shovels to dig tunnels under it. They must be dancing limbo in hell."

Izuku blinked. He had no idea what that meant. "I think they're all still alive..."

"Not for long," muttered Aizawa.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #danger first #danger first au #fic #fanfic

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star-spangled-steve · 4 years

Text

His New Partner

Chapter 48: The Final Mission

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Words: 2096

Warnings: Some anxious!Reader, pregnancy.

A/N: We’re getting closer and closer to the finish line, I can’t believe it!

Steve placed a hand on Y/N’s lower back as she pushed A.J.’s stroller, the family approaching the treed area around Tony’s, well, now Pepper’s cabin. It was the day after Stark’s funeral, and finally time for Steve to do the job that Y/N was dreading: returning the Infinity Stones to the moment they were taken.

She had asked him if someone else could do it, but the man had insisted that because of his eidetic memory, he was the only one who could execute it flawlessly. So alas, the woman agreed, though she still felt uneasy.

The last time there was time travel involved, her best friend didn’t come back. Who’s to say her husband couldn’t be next?

Steve, sensing her worries, pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. The look in his eyes said ‘everything is going to be okay’. She hoped that he was right.

“Hey, Cap. N/N.” Sam greeted as he and Bucky approached them. “Little buddy!” He bent down to get a look at Anthony in the stroller, smiling brightly at him. The toddler squealed happily in return.

“Hey, Sam.” Y/N responded, voice not entirely confident.

“You ready, pal?” Bucky questioned his best friend, earning a nod in response from the man.

Steve and Sam headed over to the desk that Bruce had set up, all of Bruce’s technological things on top of it, as well as the stones. Bucky decided to hang back with Y/N and A.J., knowing that she probably needed the support right now. He sensed her worries and gave her a reassuring smile, and she tried to give one back; the best she could.

“Now, remember, you have to return the stones to the exact moment you got them. Or you're gonna’ open up a bunch of nasty alternative realities.” Banner instructed Steve, opening the briefcase that held the Infinity Stones themselves.

“Don't worry, Bruce.” The Captain said, closing the briefcase back up and grabbing it. “Clip all the branches.”

“You know, I tried.” Bruce suddenly grew serious. “When I had the gauntlet, the stones, I really tried to bring her back.” His thoughts were lost in the memory that was Natasha as he glanced down at Steve. “I miss her, man.”

Rogers nodded, “Me too.” He quickly looked over at his love, knowing that she felt the exact same way.

He and Sam started to head over to where she was standing with Bucky. “You know, if you want, I can come with you.” Sam volunteered, always happy to help.

“You're a good man, Sam.” Steve stopped walking and stated. “This one's on me, though.” As he approached Bucky, he smirked, excited for the line he was about to say. “Don't do anything stupid 'till I get back.” Oh, how the tables had turned.

Barnes chuckled and shook his head. “How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you.” They gave each other a quick hug, and the brown-haired soldier sighed as they separated. “Be safe, buddy. I mean it.”

“It's gonna’ be okay, Buck.” The Captain reassured before stepping over to where his wife was standing, giving her a tiny grin. “Now you, little lady, better calm down.” He watched as her shoulders slumped and brought a hand up to cradle her face. “I promise you it’s going to be alright, doll. Not that difficult of a mission.”

“I-I know it’s just...” she paused, looking him deep in the eyes. “Please be careful, Steve. I can’t stress that enough.”

“I will.” He answered her in a very serious tone. “I promise.” The man watched as she bit her bottom lip nervously, and brought his thumb to her mouth, taking the lip out from between her teeth gently. He then leaned in and gave her a chaste kiss, knowing that he’ll miss her as he’s on his journey.

Her hand settled on the chest piece of his Scale Mail Suit, wanting to feel more of him and relish the moment. She gave him a soft smile as they separated, and nudged her head over to where Mjolnir was placed on the Quantum Tunnel. “You know, it’s a shame you have to bring that thing back.” She spoke quietly, not wanting Bucky, or even worse, her son to hear her.

“And why’s that?” Steve smirked, thinking he already knew the answer.

“Well, it’s, um... quite sexy that you can wield it, actually. Just like... you know, the power you hold? It’s... hot.” Y/N fluttered her eyelashes, and the man chuckled.

“Don’t tell me you’ve found it sexy when Thor’s done it all these years?” He teased, raising his eyebrows.

“No, no.” She laughed in response, moving in a bit closer to him flirtatiously. “Just you.”

Steve, really wanting to drive her crazy, simply held out his right hand and watched her expression as Mjolnir came flying into it automatically. Her eyes lit up and he grinned cockily.

“Oh boy...” she murmured. “Looks like you might be getting some toni-”

“Steve?” Bruce called out, cutting her off. “You ready to get moving?”

“Yeah.” He responded back, not taking his eyes off his girl. “Sorry, guys.” The man placed on last peck on her lips before crouching down to give her almost-six-months baby belly a kiss, then one to A.J.’s cheek as well. “Dad will be back very soon, buddy.” He told the boy, stroking his cheek, before standing up straight and walking up onto the Quantum Tunnel, giving Y/N a confident expression. He wanted to show her that he wasn’t worried, so she shouldn’t be either. He then pressed the button on his hand that made the Quantum Suit appear on his body.

“How long is this gonna’ take?” Sam questioned.

“For him? As long as he needs. For us? Five seconds.” Bruce answered.

“See, sweetie?” Steve spoke out to his wife. “You only have to wait five seconds and I’ll be right back here.”

She took a shaky breath. “Y-Yup.”

“Ready, Cap?” Banner asked, making the blond man nod in response. “Alright. We'll meet you back here, okay?”

“You bet.” The helmet then appeared on his head, sealing his body up completely.

The green man began counting: “Going quantum. Three... two... one...”

Then he was gone. He disappeared into thin air, and Y/N gave Bucky a nervous look.

Bruce spoke up again. “And returning in, five... four... three... two... one...”

Just as quickly as he had disappeared, Steve was reappearing on the Quantum Tunnel, looking almost the exact same as when he had left; the only difference maybe being a couple hairs out of place. As the Quantum Suit dissipated off his body, his wife let out a huge sigh.

“Honey. Thank goodness.” She rejoiced, running over to him as he walked down the stairs, and they met halfway in a hug. The man just ran his hands up and down her back, breathing in the fresh smell of her shampoo. “How long were you gone?” She asked.

“Longer than five seconds.” He responded, pulling her face out of his chest to look her in the eye. “I missed you.” A kiss was then pressed to her forehead, and a small giggle from A.J. interrupted the pair.

“Cool trick, dadda!” The boy smiled from his place in the stroller, prompting Y/N to take him out of it and hold him in her arms.

Steve just chuckled at his son’s words, pressing a kiss to his head too. “Thanks, bud. I missed you as well. So much.”

“Hey, you got your shield back.” Sam smiled. “And it’s in one piece this time.” He joked, slapping a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Captain America can serve another day.”

At Wilson’s words, Steve shared a look with Bucky, the brown-haired man already knowing what was coming.

“Actually, uh...” Steve began, glancing at each of their faces, ready to see what their reaction will be, “I don’t think I will be.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped as Sam and Bruce grew confused as well.

“What are you talking about?” She questioned.

“If this whole battle and journey has taught me anything, it’s that I can’t keep putting my life on the line like this. Not when I have a family.” The man looked into her eyes, still seeing confusion in them. “I was once told that I couldn’t live without a war. And maybe I couldn’t then, but I can now. There’s nothing more important to me than you and our kids, Y/N. I’m not going to jeopardize that.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” she spoke, “you’re done fighting? For good?”

He gave her a nod. “For good.”

She covered her mouth with her free hand and began to cry, Steve pulling her into his side instantly.

“Are you... sad?” He asked, wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb.

“Not at all.” She sniffled. “I’m so happy. I don’t have to worry anymore.” She looked up at her husband, and they had matching smiles; smiles of contentedness, safety, and security.

“Steve...” Bruce released a breath, “good for you, man. I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah, me too.” Sam agreed. “It’s just... the only thing bumming me out is the fact I have to live in a world without Captain America.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” Steve glanced down at his shield one last time, trying to savour the exact feel of it, before holding it out slightly. “Try it on.”

Wilson furrowed his eyebrows. “W-What? Me?” He glanced over at Bucky, who nodded, signalling that he knew about this all along. Sam carefully took the shield from Steve and adjusted it on his arm, staring down at the red, white, and blue pattern. He was so confused; Steve was trusting him with his legacy? This couldn’t be right.

“How does it feel?” Rogers inquired.

“Like it's someone else's.”

“It isn’t.”

“I-” Sam tried to hold back his tears, still in a state of shock. “Thank you. I'll do my best.”

Steve grinned. “That's why it's yours.” He shook the man’s hand, the reality of what this means suddenly hitting them all.

Y/N passed her son over to his dad before giving Sam a big hug. “I’m so happy for you.” She smiled through her tears.

“You too.” Sam replied, referring to the fact that half of her anxiety would now be alleviated from this moment forward.

She walked back to her husband and wrapped her arms around his waist, both Bucky and Bruce and congratulating Wilson.

“So what are you gonna’ do now, Steve?” Banner questioned.

The blond man smiled at the thought of his future plans. “Be a dad. And a husband. I can help make plans for the new Avengers Facility, help train the newbies. Do charity. Teach an art class. Anywhere this new path takes me.”

The woman sniffled, a big smile never leaving her face. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Me too.” Bucky added, happy that his friend could finally live in peace.

Steve just smiled at them, pulling his son closer towards his chest.

“Dadda, I’m hungwy.” The toddler stated, making everyone chuckle at how clueless he was about what was going on.

“Me too, buddy.” His father agreed. “Hey, how about you all come back to ours and we can order a pizza, just hang out?” He suggested.

“Ooo, pizza!” Y/N grew excited. “Yes, please.”

“I’m in.” Bruce added.

Bucky nodded. “Me too.”

“Sounds delicious.” Said Sam. “Considering you’re going to be feeding two super soldiers, the Hulk, and a pregnant woman, you might want to order a lot, Steve.” He joked, and the blond laughed.

“I’m plenty used to it by now.”

“I just need to take down all the equipment.” Banner stated. “You guys go ahead, it shouldn’t take me long. I’ll be there in 45.”

“Sure you don’t need help?” Y/N asked.

“It’s pretty complicated. I could probably do it faster on my own.” He chortled.

“Alright.” The woman spoke. “We’ll leave you two full pizzas.”

The group laughed as they began to walk out for the treed area and to their cars.

“So... does this mean I’m the new boss?” Sam broke the silence, his words hopeful.

“Not of me.” Steve stated with a firm, yet playful look.

“I’m not an Avenger.” Y/N giggled.

“Right, right. Only the people who are part of the team.” Wilson spoke, a huge smirk beginning to build up on his face. “So that means... I’m in charge of... Bucky.”

The brown-haired soldier let out a huge sigh. “Only during a battle.”

“Oh ho ho, this is gonna’ be great!” Sam cheered.

“See,” Steve chuckled, “you two are getting along already!”

Next Chapter

Feedback is always welcome!❤️

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n

165 notes · View notes

ushiwakaout · 4 years

Text

parings: Kenma x reader, Oikawa x reader

warning: Fluff, bad grammar. nsfw under black line. fem reader. TIME SKIP HAIKYUU

a/n: request are open! please don’t be afraid to do so!

Kozume Kenma

Match made in heaven

Both of you are at home workers, other than the fact that kenma is a CEO of his own company

You work for him, you’re his editor and you work pretty fast since you obviously do nothing in your day but edit and binge watch anime

you guys could probably go days without talking and just communicate physically and understand everything.

If you go to the store, and he’s gaming that’s when you’ll talk

Always knock before you go into his little studio room

You never come behind him anymore because one time he was filming a scary gameplay with a heart monitor and everyone thought you gave him a heart attack

but no, kenma is just baby and you wanted a good laugh- you felt really bad about it tho bc it was live and you where crying your ass off and he was yelling at you

fake breakup video like the next day for trolling

Okaya anywho

if you want his attention and he’s live, you remove one side of his headset and kiss his cheek (theres a several compilation videos of you doing that all over youtube) “I’m going to the store, you want anything?”

you always wait like 30 seconds and caress him a little to let him know you’re physically there and not just standing there.

“Uh- yeah... yeah. Hold on.” (there is also a compilation of kenma just ignoring you and you just standing there until he answers)

you always end up naming his favorite snacks, drinks and food and he either agrees or denies.

everyone thinks its weird how your relationship works

SOME MANY VIDEOS OF “kenma and y/n communicating without any words”

you go many places by yourself since kenma does very long streams or just long videos

you both stay up really late together

if hes not making videos hes looking at paperwork and if hes not doing that he’s helping you edit

somehow kenma is the more productive one

you have channel yourself that slowly grows thanks to kenma

you only do lives and leave up the whole streams bc you dread editing but you’ll do anything for kenma

just to make extra cash you have and OF

most of the videos consist of watching you play video game while kenma eats you out under the desk

a lot of audios because kenma doesn’t like being his face filmed while having sex

theres a video in your own OF when you do a tik tok trend where you surprise him while he’s filming

“Kenma can you help me for a second.”

“Hmm, what is it kitten?”

He paused his game and while his chair turned you undid your robe

Luckly he’s not live and kept the camera on

He just smiles and spreads his legs for you

(gdiewgsfiuchsiufviusdghvypofgsivhrwshb my brain is malfunctioning ugh im so in love with kenma its not even funny)

He makes you sit on his lap, as he suckles your nipple in his mouth.

His hand firmed tightly around your rips as he kisses every inch of your chest

“You’re so pretty... So fucking pretty.” He mumbles. He’s kissing down your chest all the way to your tummy before picking you up and making you stand

He makes you stand in front of the camera while stands behind you and kisses the crook of your neck.

“I want you to look in the camera for me kitten, can you do that?” He kisses her jaw “Can you be a good girl for me?”

(wow if i write any more smut for kenma i think i might go crazy jskwbvbdei)

sex is very much a frequent thing, most of the time it starts as cock warming while watching a movie and two second later your begging to milk kenmas cock again

he loves when you beg for his cock, makes him feel wanted

he loves feeling your tight pussy clench around him when hes about to cum and you’re cumming for the third time, panting, begging, crying to having him fill you up with his hot cum.

Blow jobs under his desk or while hes on an important call are a must.

you love watching his cock slowly twitch with pre cum when you lick his shaft

mmm i need to stop- i love him so much ugh

Oikawa Tooru

Being lazy in argentina was a dream but a little lonely

Tooru was always away at practive but lcukly the apartment he had been renting had a pool, and you spend most of your days at the pool, reading or playing some game he just bought you

you hate how early he freaking wakes up

hes making breakfast and blending shakes at like 5 in the morning

there’s days he doesn’t really mean to wake you, you know the difference bc if he wants to wake you he’ll leave the blender run for a while and if h doesn’t he does it in seperate pulses so it’s not so damn loud

if he does it on purpose, he has breakfast ready for you before his own

doesn’t expect you to stick around after you eat

when he wakes you on accident he’s like “Oh my baby i’m so sorry honey.”

cue kiss attacks, warm hugs and him making you a cup of coffee/tea, whatever you prefer that morning

he’s so sweet

he knows you work hard too (even tho it doesn’t seem like it bc people think youtubers and streamers have an easy job when it clearly is mentally very stressful)

He knows that when he wakes you up, you had legit just gone to bed like two hours ago.

sometimes you sleep though the noise and before he leaves he wakes you up just a little so he can kiss you goodbye.

its always something like *shake* *shake* “Baby.... honey” *caressing of the head/cheek/hair* “I gotta go to practice now, give me a kiss princess.” you always wake up to the sound of that and give his a really sweet and tender kiss. Oikawa really just wants to fall back asleep with you and hold you, especially today since it was a cold morning

after you give him the kiss, you caress his cheek and then shove him away- a little jumpy that he need to go. “Love you.” you mutter before covering yourself with the blankets

he always slaps your ass over the blankets, it never huts but it’s just a sign of his actually leaving to practice

You wear his stuff when he leaves

low key have attachment issues since you moved with him to Argentina

other than pool side reading, or doing a few laps before breakfast- you really don’t do anything but work.

Work for you consisted you of just playing video games or streaming

You’re popular on the female side of gamers

sometimes you have streams where you ask your fans to play and write down their handles and you’d add them to a game or sum

Everyone knows your dating a professional volleyball player an they think it’s an interesting duo

You cry when Tooru brought Hinata over, he smelt like home

you def. helped him adjust to the life in argentina bc it’s nothing like home.

hinata comes over for dinner ever weekend

if you’re not working or at the pool, you’re in a white hoddie and some shorts, just watching Hinata play some beach volleyball while playing some game

You very much remind him of kenma- it helped a lot when he got some sick- you didn’t really ‘help’ you just cried with him about how much you miss home

although your schedule isnt the best, youre always awake when tooru gets home, always there to greet him with kisses

hes lucky you like cooking, bc he always comes home to an empty stomach

you’re probably the slowest cooker he knows but you take your sweet time bc you know that it always comes out w the best result and he doesnt complain anymore

baths w oikawa are frequent

muscles sores are a usual so seconds before he gets home theres a hot bath being pampered with your love for him

you work so slow on everything hes surprised you actually get stuff done

a little offended that he doesn’t believe in your slow work ethic bc it worked since highschool.

there had been times where he just ask if you’re not ever sick of being at home locked in all day and it stated a very month long fight.

sleeping in different rooms

(LIL ANGST AHEAD)

Tooru can hear you cry from the other room

he didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, he really didn’t. he just doesn’t want you to regret anything- especially moving here with him

you hate it when he questions your life ethics. it makes you feel like a failure and unworthy.

your life is simple and you like it that way but the second he questions it you think that you aren’t doing enough

will 100% sleep outside your door because he can’t sleep alone anymore. he’s gotten used to you being right next to him

you realize that it seems he’s given up so now it’s time to go to the kitchen and get water

but to your surprise tooru is very asleep on the doorframe when you open the door. it’s makes your heart ache just a little bit. he looks tired, his eyes are puffy but he looks so at peace.

you wake him up to go to bed but he has other plans.

he’s kissing you so sweetly, every piece of skin he can find he will kiss

will carry you to bed and kiss your tummy as your shirt ran a little too high

will start to kiss your inner thigh and pull down your underwear and slowly make his way up to your pussy

you’re clearly trying to shove him off (not hard enough) because you keep closing your legs and trying to push him with your foot

will spread your legs and keep his hands there to he can start eating you out

this is his apology. this his how oikawa tooru says im sorry without saying it. soft pleasuring, orgasmic sex.

his fingers are so deep in your pussy while he’s sucking on your clit. he doesn’t look at you when you cum because he feels like he doesn’t deserve to see it.

you’re begging him to look at you after he’s done fingering you so you can kiss him with your taste this lingering oh his tongue

fucks you in a matting press because when it’s slow and he’s thrusting it all in.... i don’t think he’s seen you twitch and drool so much

tooru is there to pleasure you and when he sees you cry out of the pleasure you know he’ll be forgiven when it’s over

aftercare is even better

he doesn’t make you do anything

he presses you, gives you kisses and over all will apologize verbally when you’re slowly falling asleep in his arms

219 notes · View notes

mismess · 3 years

Text

Jeremy went to pick up coffee.

Now Jeremy didn’t always drink coffee in the morning but this day he was asked to get some, so while he’s there he might as well indulge. He could use a boost of energy anyway.

So on his usual drive to work he took a small detour to a local coffee shop, he got two coffees, one medium roast with extra milk and sugar, one dark roast with milk and one sugar. He didn’t think to get more, he wasn’t told to get more so why would he?

This dark roast with milk and one sugar had to do with a call, a call he got early in the morning, around 6:30 am, which is too early and it probably woke up half the house, it was Scotty calling from work, Jeremy didn’t think Scott really registered what time it was, he sounded out of it, but still profusely apologized about his request for him to pick up coffee.

This leads back to a scene from earlier in the week, the coffee pot in the break room had been broken leaving the Fazbear employee’s caffeineless, which isn’t a problem for him but Scott seemed rather upset about it, he did recall him often having a cup in hand, might explain some of his jumpiness, perhaps Scott should cut back on the caffeine actually.

Just another unhealthy habit Jeremy thought to himself

But the thing is Scott almost NEVER asks anything of anyone, even if he probably should, so of course Jeremy agreed. He can’t turn down the one time he’s asked for something, even if it fueled that habit, it was the least problematic of them anyway.

So Jeremy picked up the coffee.

As he arrived at the pizzeria and walked inside, the main entrance opened up to a large open room, to the left were tables that costumers sat to eat pizza and watch the animatronic band perform, the flooring was black and white tile while the walls had star patterned wallpaper with colorful images of the band along on some of the walls, other walls had a few drawings from past costumers put up on display. To the right of the entrance he saw Fritz in their usual spot, in the prize corner near the games, while all their jobs were rather loose in nature and you simply go where you’re needed, that was their ‘main’ job, they take tickets and exchange them for prizes, Fritz was often leaving that post however to help a kid cheat at ski ball or something.

The place had been open for just around an hour, there was a couple of older kids lingering around on the arcade games but it was far from busy. Fritz didn’t take notice that Jeremy had arrived as they were messing with the little prizes behind the counter, such as the finger traps and those rubber poppers. He liked those poppers if he was being honest, and sometimes took one for his own enjoyment.

Jeremy walked past the prize corner and towards the break room, it always felt rude to talk to someone unless they were close enough to him, -what that distance was exactly he didn’t really know himself, depended on the mood and person-, or if said person directly talked to him first, and it felt silly to walk all the way up to someone just to say hello and turn away. So he stayed quiet. This sometimes labeled him as rude either way if someone expected a greeting and he didn’t supply.

He opened the break room door to find Scotty sitting at a table, slumped forward propping his head up with his hands while rubbing his temples with his thumbs, but when he heard the door he looked up, almost in a startled fashion, but that friendly crooked smile he always has on quickly replaced his nervous face.

Jeremy liked that crooked smile, it always leaned towards the right of his face, showing off his dimple on that side.

Underneath his smile however he looked tired, and it seemed like he just got more worn down with every day that went by. Scotty’s always been an overachiever when it came to work, he took long hours and probably did the equivalent of three people's jobs at the same time, but lately it seemed like it’s taken a toll on him. Jeremy’s tried to discourage this behavior in the past but that would usually just end with Scott finding a way to weasel his way out of those conversations.

There wasn’t much to the break room, it had a couple of plain tables strewn about with mismatched chairs surrounding them, a counter against the wall to the left of the entrance with a microwave sitting on it, the coffee pot formerly sat next to it as well, with a couple of cupboards above it that didn’t house much of anything besides a few cups, and at the end of the counter a fridge.

“I’m here.” Jeremy announced, giving him a quick smile

“Oh thank God! I have such a headache-” Scotty said as he shot out of his chair and walked over to Jeremy

Jeremy held out the dark roast with milk and one sugar to Scott

Scott took it and realized he wasn’t being very polite, “OH- Sorry, uh- Hello! How ya doing?” he asked, but quickly followed it up with another question “ Oh, how much was it?”

“Um. I’m fine. And you don’t have to worry about payment.” Jeremy reassured him

“Nonsense!” Scott said, reaching into his pocket “You are NOT paying for my addictions... Ah-!”

“- That’ll do!” Scott said while handing him a crumpled-up wad of spare change, just looking at it Jeremy could tell it was way too much for one dark roast with milk and one sugar.

Before Jeremy could say anything the break room door swung open again as Fritz walked in

“Ooooh, coffee!” Fritz said as they walked by Jeremy “Didn’t get me one~?” Fritz said in a tone that seemed playful, but Jeremy couldn’t quite tell if it was. He’s never been good at picking up tones very well.

“I didn’t know you wanted one, I’m sorry.” Jeremy said. He should have got more coffee, for everyone.

“Nah it’s ok, Jere, I’m joking, I’m sure Scotty called before I was even here.” Fritz said leaning on Scott’s shoulder while he sipped on his dark roast with milk and one sugar

“Wait a minute-” Jeremy started as he realized what time Scott really did call at “You did call from here right? Just how early did you get here?”

But before Scott was able to answer Fritz piped in instead "Dude, he’s BEEN here since 12 last night!” they gave Scott a friendly nudge, but as Scott pulled the coffee away from his mouth he gave out this nervous chuckle

“Wait- wait- Scott, you’re working the night shift?” Jeremy asked, he suddenly felt a sense of dread at the mention of it

“Um. Uh- Yeah, heh...” Scott said awkwardly

Jeremy hadn’t realized Scott had taken over the night shift, no wonder this man seemed more exhausted than usual.

“But you’re here during the day all the time!” Jeremy stated “Ok- Just how many double shifts do you take?”

“Uh- W-Whatever I’m a- asked..?” Scott said with a nervous grin, his shoulders raised up as if to brace himself, he put his coffee down on the table

“Scott-- God the night shift-- Do you LEAVE?”

“O- Of course! I can’t live here!”

“You say that like you would if you could!” Jeremy was obviously showing frustration in his voice, he didn’t mean to but the amount of work this man did stressed Jeremy out, and the night shift stressed him out even more

“Well- I mean- I’m not doing anything else anyway-” Scott started

“Well you should! Scotty you’re already working so many hours, do you sleep?! You have to realize this isn’t healthy-!” Jeremy was cut off by the break room door opening again

William stood in the doorway, his usual calm demeanor did not seem to be about him today, his brow furrowed and shoulders hunched in a manner unlike him “... What is going on in here?” he asked

“- Brought up Scott’s poor work-life balance, now the boys are fighting.” Fritz told him

William pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed “... Ok. I don’t care- There’s currently no employees out on the floor and a birthday party in an hour, can we stop the chit-chat and get things moving.” he snapped

“Yes, you’re right, William!” Scott quickly moved past William out the door on to the floor, obviously glad to find a reason to stop the conversation. William followed.

Jeremy took a deep breath as he watched him walk away “... You think Scotty works too much too, right?” he turned to Fritz, hoping he had an ally, fearing he might be coming off a little too overprotective.

“Oh definitely,” Fritz replied “He’s stubborn when it comes to work tho, you can’t get that guy to sit down. Seeing as you didn’t know he’s on the night shift I guess you haven’t seen his schedule, you should take a look, that thing is a MESS.”

Fritz walked out the door as well, leaving Jeremy alone with his medium roast with extra milk and extra sugar. He didn’t like the mood that was left hanging in this room, he felt bad for getting upset with Scotty, his problems wouldn’t improve just cause Jeremy got fussy with him. But Scotty always pushed these things aside, insisting they could “bring it up later” or “it’s not that bad” or simply just changing the subject, he didn’t know how to talk about it with him without getting fussy at this point.

It seemed like most of their recent conversations ended in frustration. Scotty grew a lot more distant after The Bite, and didn’t tell him about anything anymore, and if asked he would brush him off, he stopped having lunch with him or Fritz and usually spent most his time working or talking with William so any time for socializing was spent elsewhere. He missed his friend.

He didn’t want to just drop it but he didn’t know what more he could do, if Scotty didn’t want his help he can’t force him to talk to him or make him take less hours.

... The night shift...

Jeremy had sworn off the night shift after his first and only week on it, he didn’t like thinking about it, but the reason it was so bad was the animatronics weren’t right, they had something wrong with them, which is why they were scrapped. Those animatronics that seemed out for his blood weren’t in use anymore, and with them the problems of the night shift were gone. At least that’s what William said, Jeremy had no intentions of seeing that for himself, just the thought gave him anxieties.

But that means at least Scott would have the 6 hours to just sit down and relax, right?

He still didn’t think it was good, and Scott definitely should be taking more time off, but maybe Jeremy’s reaction was a bit unwarranted. He would apologize for his harsh tone when he got the chance.

Jeremy took both his medium roast with extra milk and sugar and the half-drunken dark roast with milk and one sugar and put them in the break room’s fridge, maybe they could drink them at lunch together later he thought.

and he got to work.

#What prompted this? idk. just wanted to write SOMETHING suddenly #jeremy fitzgerald #phone guy #fritz smith #fnaf #writing #can't even tell if i like this but I've put hours in it now so lmao HEEERRE <3 #scotty guy

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sunlitmcgee · 2 years

Note

for the prompts: “It looks good on you" w/alliumduo? :D

#12: It looks good on you. TWs for vague descriptions of gore/body horror/violence, as well as themes of guilt/regret and a brief mention of s*lf-harm. Nothing too graphic. This just takes place a little after chapter 81, and poor Ranboo is still a bit shaken up over it. It's still 95% fluff, tho :D

A giggle came behind the changing room curtain. Ranboo’s eyes turned to see what it was all about.

“Tommy?” He said, smiling like an absolute idiot. “Are you okay? Do you need help with anything back there?”

His voice was laced with sugar. Being around his special flower always made his head feel like it was full of the stuff. Tommy was just so sweet. It was almost enough to give a guy cavities!

A light voice called back from behind the blue silk wall. “No, Ranboo. I do not need any help w’th gettin’ my clothes on. Go fuck off and pick up some grass.”

Ranboo laughed. “Hehehe, o-kaaaaaaay! Sorr-yyyyyyyyy.”

He heard Tommy give a bothered and indescribably adorable “hrmph!” before the room fell silent. Ranboo’s smile was stretched wide enough to make his cheeks ache. He turned to one of the tables to occupy himself for a minute or three.

It was snowing outside.

Ranboo could see the white flakes flutter past where they fell by the nearby window. The world outside the mansion was foggy and glowed a pale white-gray. The sun’s glow could be seen faintly through the thick clouds overhead, but when he glanced out to look at the backyard that this wing of the mansion overlooked, all he saw was a cloud of mist that swirled where the greenhouse was supposed to be.

It was bound to start hailing.

He dreaded to think what Foolish would say when he learned they had yet another busted window. But that wasn’t important.

Sounds of fabric being shuffled came from behind the curtain partition. Tommy had been over for a few hours. He came to visit so he could help with some interior decorating that Ranboo was working on, picking out what flowers went best in whichever vase, but really they’d just spent most of their time together goofing off and blasting out some Neil Cicierega.

Ranboo was the one that suggested they take a break and retire to the fitting room. He wanted to let Tommy relax after what happened last week at that one therapy session. Tommy had been really tired since what went down in that prison cell, which was in his head inside of a nightmare inside of some acid-trip dream sequence mind-meld astral projection type deal.

He still shuddered when he thought of those bodies.

Of his body.

His own corpse, always melted and mutilated, floated in a shallow black sea a million times over for miles on end. He knew it didn’t mean anything. Not anymore. Tommy had moved past all those ugly, hateful, jealousy-induced feelings and was perfectly fine with him.

That didn’t change just how dirty Ranboo’s scales felt when he remembered what he’d seen in there.

It wasn’t Tommy that made him feel that way.

It was just something that came with seeing that sort of thing. Something that came with being in the mind of someone you loved more than words could tell, seeing their pain played out live before you, seeing them claw themself open while they scream and you’re helpless to do anything to stop it.

It was natural to feel sick about having seen your own corpse.

It was even more natural to feel sick when you realized that for the most part, it was somewhat your fault that those feelings had begun to manifest in the first place. Tommy wasn’t a violent person. Tommy only had feelings like that when he was left to rot on his own and got replaced without a single thought.

Tommy would deny, deny, deny that it was an issue until the day he drew his last breath. He'd long since forgiven them both for how selfish they had been.

Tommy had always been too good for this world. For this server and everyone in it. He was just too forgiving…he was just too good for his own damn good.

We don’t deserve him. We never have. We’re lucky he even wants to be near us after everything we did. Or everything we didn’t do.

He’s a blessing.

Oh, Ender. How can we ever deserve him? How can we ever even try?

A sigh escaped the enderian. These were the kind of things he’d have to bring up sometime with Puffy. She’d tell him something nice to make the guilt go away a little. She’d also give him hell for having that guilt in the first place. That was always pretty funny, if a bit embarrassing.

From behind the silky curtain, Ranboo heard Tommy cough as he set the shirt he was looking over down and turned back towards it with a wide, friendly grin. “You sure you don’t need any help? I can get that zipper for you, if you can’t quite reach it!”

His hopes of any zipper-based affection were dashed in an instant.

“No, I got it!” Tommy said loudly over a metallic zzzzt!

“Ah, okay!”

Ranboo rubbed his hands together eagerly. Tommy had picked something very pretty out to try on today. Everything looked pretty when it was on his treasure, sure, but Ranboo was still very excited to see how this particular piece went when paired with his sweetest little allium.

His eyes remained fixed on the curtain.

Something pressed against it and made the sleek silk shine when it caught the dim gray light. There was a faint clatter when the metal rings that held the curtain slid quickly along the curved golden rod, and as the sheet was parted and the small space beyond revealed, Tommy stepped out and dusted the top of his shirt while he eyed Ranboo from a few paces away.

“So?” He asked softly. “Does it…does it look alright?”

Alright?

It looked perfect!

Tommy had selected a long-sleeved sundress with a light purple skirt. The skirt was pleated and designed to swoosh outwards whenever its wearer moved. It had a white pattern along the edges, one that consisted of tiny daisy flowers and small, flora swirls that were in the shape of blooming vines. The top of the dress was pure white and designed to resemble a fluffy overcoat.

Ranboo felt his knees turn to goo the second he laid eyes on the blonde. How was he supposed to reply? How was he supposed to speak? Speak? Speaking? Talking? Like, with fully formed and somewhat clear words? Who that? Who is she?

He stood there in dumbstruck silence and struggled desperately to make a response. “I…it…it looks good on you, ⌇⍙⟒⟒⏁ ⏁⍀⟒⏃⌇⎍⍀⟒.”

Tommy rubbed his left sleeve and didn’t seem very sure. “Really?”

He was blushing.

Ranboo’s flower was blushing.

Oh, be still, his stupid little gay heart!

Ranboo moved quickly and ran up to join the blue-eyed avian. His arms were around Tommy in an instant, and in a moment’s pause he had him lifted up a few inches in the air and hugged closely to his chest.

He couldn’t help the purr that escaped him. He just simply couldn’t.

Tommy squeaked when he was moved so suddenly. “AH! Ranboo, what the shi-”

He stopped when Ranboo began to gently sway.

“...you’re like…a big idiot cat…big idiot puppy dog cat…just…just a big dumb dummy dumb-dumb kind of boy…why do you smell like cinnamon?”

Ranboo’s heart turned to mush right then and there. This instant was eternity. Tommy was the sun itself, warmth and honey and light and bright and beauty and goodness all wrapped up in fine lilac silk with a cotton blend around the chest. He smelled like peaches. He was everything to him.

“Ooooh, sweet booooooy.” Ranboo could only croon while he snuggled Tommy close. The boy wiggled in his arms to very little avail.

“Ugh…” Tommy sighed once he finally gave in. “Idiot.”

Ranboo’s purr continued to sound as they stood in the sweet gray sunbeam.

#HWHBH #drabbles #tw blood mention #tw self-harm mention #tw violence mention #hwhbh!tommy #hwhbh!ranboo #hwhbh!alliumduo

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fairestwriting · 3 years

Text

title: half doomed and semi-sweet

word count: 5308

summary: Idia's bad luck comes back to haunt him again, being dragged into physically showing up to class and being assigned a group project involving a student from a different year, courtesy of Mr. Trein. His... "best friend", Kero Tricarenia, sees his distress in the situation, and swoops in to save him, though that might be what actually ends him instead of the project...

commissioned by @chibichibisha , available on ao3 here ! tysm for the commission, i hope you like it! you have no idea how excited i was to write kero asjkdfsf-

my guidelines for commissions are here, in case anyone else is interested !

Of course that in the day Idia is made to actually show up to class, something like this happens.

The fact that it’s Trein’s class just makes it somehow worse. Of course, it’s not all bad, he gets to see Lucius napping on the teacher’s desk—! ...but, he also gets to be pestered by Cater the second he’s walking in, and then the second he’s walking out, plus, just the presence of all these people… Idia shudders just thinking about it.

He pulls his hoodie closer to his face, trying to shield it in vain. He just wanted to go back to his room. Trein was the worst for making him actually show up. He’d been attending classes through the tablet for so long, what was the issue with today specifically? Why couldn’t he just do it the way he always does? He just doesn’t get it—

“Before class is dismissed,” Trein starts in that voice of his, commanding yet with a hint of a drawl that makes Idia want to delve into eternal slumber. “I have an announcement to make. Due to recent events, the headmaster has assigned the teachers the task of building… teamwork, and solidarity, between students, even the ones in different years, and I’ve been chosen to apply that, so your monthly History assignment will work somewhat differently this time.”

Great. Awesome. These were his favorite words in the whole world. As if today couldn’t get any worse.

“I’ll need you to gather a pair or trio with students from different years, to build a mockup representing a historical event of your choosing. You’re supposed to inform me of your groups until tomorrow's class, and the deadline will be held two weeks from now, on February 13th. You’ll be presenting your works the day after.”

Idia feels the clammy hands of dread on both his ankles, threatening to pull him under. Of course this would get worse somehow. He exhales a deep sigh, burying his face on his hands… he’d have to email Mr. Trein about doing the assignment by himself later. And it’d be such an unpleasant conversation, with how he insisted on having students follow all these traditional learning methods.

Really, why the hell were they getting group projects now, out of all things? They had one foot out of school, basically. Fourth year barely had any classes, most of the students’ times filled up with internships and research so what did they get out of trying to “develop teamwork skills” within their students? None of these people would be talking to each other by the time they graduate, anyways… they were wasting resources to max out a stat that didn’t matter.

He tugs the hood of his jacket over his face again as he walks out of the classroom, sneaking outside like he’s avoiding to get scolded — The blue glow of his hair insisting on sticking out, Idia feels his heart race and squeeze while he makes his way across the crowded hallways. He swears he hears Cater’s voice calling for him as he leaves, too… but maybe he’s just making it up, because of how especially cursed he feels today.

What an awful morning, really. At least locking himself up with that MMO he’s gotten hooked on recently would feel even more cathartic.

After the nerve-wracking walk, Trein’s words poking at him like imps with their tridents — Him trying to figure out how to convince that teacher to let him do everything by himself, no presentation included, without having to actually face the guy — Idia finally gets back to his dorm. Finally.

He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding — Just like in the fanfics, geez — when he steps into the lounge, though even the mostly vacant blue and white space felt a little oppressive now. Sure, he cared about his dormmates, they were fine people, but they were still people, and what he really needed now, was…

“IDIA!”

...within one second of the click of his door being unlocked, Idia is reminded once again that he never will know peace.

“K-Kero!” He yelps, suddenly overwhelmed by a hug, arms around his entire body squeezing him tight, maybe too tight— It’s a second before he remembers this is in fact supposed to be his room. “W-Wait, what are you doing here? That’s my room!”

Unleashed from the mighty grip, red eyes meet Idia’s as Kero’s head tilts, a smile on his face flashing his sharp teeth.

“I know that! I was looking for you.” He just announces, following right behind with that skip on his step as Idia enters and locks the door behind them. He hadn’t seen Kero in… how long, now? It’d been a while, that much he knew. Idia had been busy lately, with… “You finished that tournament yesterday night, right? How did you do? I got you that cake from the cafeteria you like to celebrate!” His questions are rapid-fire, tail wagging as he rushes towards Idia’s unmade bed to pick up the little packaged treat he’d gotten.

“You don’t even know how it went yet, but you’re already getting your hopes up.” Idia grumbles, but the second the package is placed on his hands, he does gracefully accept it. “Well, my team did win, so…”

“Yes! I knew you would!” Kero cheers, grinning again as he sits on his bed. He’s… so full of energy it’s hard to watch, Idia would say.

But, well, that would kind of be a huge lie.

“Yeah, thanks for leaving me be for a bit so I could practice.” He mutters, moving to sit on his desk chair. The package makes a crinkling plastic noise while he messes with it, opening it to reveal a slice of strawberry shortcake — That has him glancing at Kero for a second, a fuzzy feeling taking over.

...because that’s just what his emotions do now.

It was stupid, Idia’s sighing tiredly just thinking about it — When it started was beyond him, but for some reason or another, something keeps pulling him towards Kero. It’s not exactly a big deal, some sort of soul-binding string of fate or something like that, but even when he’s not there physically, Kero lingers, flashes of sharp teeth and boisterous laughing in Idia’s mind. It’s not a big deal! But it’s like Kero had hanged around him so much he left a mark.

And Idia doesn’t really hate that. He stares at the cake in his hands, and thinks of Kero smiling as he got it for him, without any sort of request, just because he saw the cake and remembered that he liked it, and his mind stresses just how much he doesn’t hate that.

(...well, it was a sort of doomed thing, they would never move on from this strange affectionate friendship, because Idia isn’t going to… tell Kero he’s crushing on him, or anything like that. That’d just screw everything up. And what he has now isn’t actually bad at all. Really, it’s fine if Kero never understands. It’s fine. )

“Are you… good, though? Do you need anything?” Kero asks, snapping him out of the messy daydreams with another good natured tilt of his head — He’s a dog alright. “You… just look kinda gloomy and stuff.”

Idia snickers, shaking his head. “Yeah, like I ever look different.” He mumbles, and takes a bite of cake. It’s sweet, he thinks, making a surprised noise as he wonders when the last time he had it was… he licks some whipped cream off his fingers. “Mm, this time is different though. Something with a group project from Mr. Trein… tires me out just to think about it.” He sighs. But Kero’s ears perk up, pointing straight upwards.

“Oh! That, yeah. He told 2-D about it today too.”

“Yeah. This sucks. I’m just gonna… find a way to work by myself.” Idia shakes his head, sinking on his chair a little further. He bites into the cake again. “You think Mr. Trein knows how to read emails?” He snickers, but the thought of having to meet him face-to-face makes his skin crawl. “...ugh, I d-don’t wanna have to talk to him during office hours…”

Kero hums in slightly concerned acknowledgement, plopping down on his bed with attentive eyes. Idia finds himself in a weird wondering of how it felt like to sit down when you were a beastman. Did it hurt his tail or something? It’s wagging against the mattress, though. His ears point to opposite sides while he looks up vaguely. Idia muses about what he might be thinking about.

“Well, you could always do it with me! They said to get one of your underclassmen, right.” Kero suggests, and… Idia swears he sees his tail wag a little harder, but that could very well just be a trick of the light. “I can do the presentation too, and I’m good with building things, so…” He grins. “Plus, you won’t have to… talk to Mr. Trein.”

Idia hums through a mouthful of cake. Well, doing the project with Kero would certainly be better than with someone he didn’t know. However, it’s…

His eyes linger on Kero’s expectant form on his bed, smiling so cheerfully. He’s very aware of the couple feet of distance between them right now, and even like this, Kero’s presence does things to his heart… that’s bad, so bad, he thinks, it’s hard to ignore how his heartbeat is just a tad faster now, summed with this different flavor of nervousness that just seemed to simmer in his blood now… yeah, it’s no good.

“I m-mean, I guess I wouldn’t mind that.” Is what he stutters out. Kero beams.

Stupid cute Kero. This isn’t helping Idia convince himself none of this is a big deal.

“Yeah! If you’re doin’ a project you might as well do it with your best friend, right?” He says. Here he is again with the best friend talk… oh, if only he knew. “We can have fun with it too. Actually, I can have fun with everything as long as I’m with you, heh.”

Idia feels heat creeping up his neck. Stupid cute Kero! “Ugh, you d-don’t gotta be embarrassing about it.” He mumbles, eyes averted. The cake finished with one last bite, Idia places the empty package on his desk, licking leftover cream off his fingers again. “We’re just putting some annoying mockup together. It’s not a big deal. If we add some simple machines to it to make it cooler it’ll already be higher-res than everyone else’s, it’s just an easy A. Everyone else’s just gonna use magic, I bet.”

“Yeah, obviously. I mean it doesn’t have to be annoying, though.” Kero comments. “We’ve gotta choose a historical event, right? Do you have any ideas?”

“Uhhh. The industrial revolution of the Isle of Lamentation? That’s… pretty much all I paid attention to this year, anyways.” He shrugs. Trein’s classes were boring, naturally. And they were so early in the morning, too… his tablet may have been there most of the time, but Idia himself was passed out on his bed.

“I think that works! We’ll have to make a bunch of stuff for the machines. But that’ll be fun.”

Idia hums. He’s thinking about these machines, actually, the miniature factories they could put together. The blueprints begin to write themselves up rather quickly. “We’d blow their little minds if we just had some… smoke coming out of the chimneys, some gears spinning around. Fuhihi, our mockup might be the best.” With his head in the clouds — Or the laboratory, rather — he finds himself grinning, waving a finger in the air. “Hey, Kero, what do you th… huh?”

And Kero isn’t on his bed anymore. He’s right there, in front of him.

Before Idia can say anything about this (Kero right in front of him, leaning in closer, he feels so cornered, his heart might stop!) Kero leans in even further, a big hand coming up to his face and (He’s going to die, definitely, he’ll die right here.) and he wipes off some whipped cream from near Idia’s lips.

“You had some on your face! Heheh.” He chuckles, licking it off his thumb. Idia feels like his blood pressure has just plummeted, or… or maybe it just did the opposite, how is he supposed to tell? His face feels so hot there’s no way his brain is getting the proper oxygen at all, he can barely think—!

“G-Give me a warning before you do something like this!” Idia wheezes, high pitched like a squeaky toy, and Kero just laughs again, grinning with this hint of mischief. “I didn’t even see you move!”

“Yeah, ‘cause you were distracted? I’m happy you’re excited about the project, though. I think it’s cute.” He says outright, and Idia… Idia just puts his hands on his face, averting his eyes with intent. Why does Kero have to be... so... much? “C’mon, you can sit with me on the bed. We can talk better like this.” A strong hand grabs at his wrist, easily looping around it as he pulls at Idia, making him squeak again as he’s dragged towards the bed.

“This doesn’t even make any sense!” Idia complains, but Kero tugs him towards the bed with no effort at all, and he just accepts his fate, huffing like it’d ease the warmth crawling all over his face. “Ugh, a-anyway, I was talking about the factories we’d put on the mockup… I thought of having some machines with exposed insides, with the spinning gears would be good, and conveyor belts that function…”

As he launches into explanation, Kero nods, making this unbreakable eye contact. Idia has to stop and take a deep breath every couple minutes, the situation somehow overwhelming. It feels like his condition just got a little worse every day, huh.

(Well, it’s fine. He could just avoid him if things got bad. Though… he doesn’t like thinking about this, recalling the week before the game tournament even. It’s kind of stupid, if he’s just making Idia nervous why does he have this need to keep him around? As expected, emotions make little to no sense...)

“...so, basically that’s what I thought.” Idia ends the explanation. Kero still has his attentive look on his face, almost like it froze there. “Did you pay attention?”

“Nah. I was just looking at you while you talked, ‘cause you looked so pretty.” Kero leans in with a smirk (Can he please stop trying to kill Idia, he’s just gotten down to a normal-ish heart rate again!) that then turns into one of his usual friendly smiles. “Kidding! I did, yeah. Do you wanna start it tomorrow?”

“You…! Uh, um, I don’t know. I wanna play my new game.” He stumbles with speaking, but it still comes out. At least. “We could probably finish that in, what, two days at most? If you don’t mind going to the lab late at night.”

“Roger that. For Idia, I’ll go to the ends of Twisted Wonderland!” He declares, fist thumping against his chest with a proud grin. “I’ll get us your snacks too. Can’t have you going hungry. But now I gotta go to track.”

Idia blinks. Already? He remembers that club meetings do in fact exist. He’d been skipping on his lately so he ended up kind of… forgetting them. Seeing Kero go, though, it’s…

“R-Right, I hope you, uh… enjoy yourself.” He stutters. Then he wants to hit himself on the face, really, what kind of stupid farewell was that? Just say bye and go back to your games, idiot. Luckily, Kero doesn’t seem to mind it.

“Yeah, yeah, I will!” He chimes, getting up from the bed — Leaning down a little, he puts a hand over Idia’s flaming hair, ruffling it to his surprise. “I’ll see you, okay? Literally. I’m coming over again later, ‘cause after all this time I’m not leaving my best friend alone!”

Idia feels frozen in place while Kero pets him, eyes zeroed in on that grin — Before he leaves, and he exhales. Again. That breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

He doesn’t play the game yet. Instead, he lays face down on the bed and screams into the pillow, whatever feelings had been simmering while Kero was around just exploding the second he leaves. Great Seven, he was so stupid. Both of them, actually.

Kero was stupid for not seeing how much this crush was clearly consuming him, and Idia… Idia was stupid for getting involved in any of this at all, in so many ways and for so many reasons, but he just can’t bring himself to stop now.

He swears it’s not that big of a deal. But it’s a lie, obviously. Clearly.

. . .

Once he’s back into his room after practice, Kero shuts his door behind him, and he laughs.

He feels the strain on his body from the running, sure, but every bit of it is somehow also filled with so much energy — With his hands on his face like how Idia does when he’s shy, he grins so much his cheeks hurt with the pulling. His heart won’t stop racing.

Who let him be so adorable!

He knew they’d end up doing this project together, of course. When Trein mentioned it’d involve students from different years, Idia was the first person Kero thought of! But the reality still makes him so giddy. To think he’d have a chance to do a project with him! He’s really been too lucky these days. Trein was… something else, to him, but with something like this, he might be willing to overlook the fact that the guy was absolutely terrifying.

Well, what matters is that he gets some more time with Idia — Even better, they’d be alone together! — The tournament week sucked, straight up. Kero ran some errands for him but it just wasn’t the same! Though he didn’t mind this sort of caretaking either, Idia barely took breaks. He didn’t even tell him much about the game he was playing, actually. Kero was basically crawling up the walls with how bored he’d gotten.

But that’s irrelevant now.

Still grinning and laughing to himself with all that burst of energy running through his skin, Kero hops over to his desk — With how he was, Idia would probably have some blueprints for the machines ready soon, but this was a nice chance to impress. He gathers some parts and tools, and gets to work.

...work that takes longer to complete than it usually does for him, but as expected, through the following days, Idia texts him vague guidelines on what their mockup should be like, ideas and half-baked blueprints that they discuss both through the phone and when he shows up at Idia’s place, and when the fated day of getting together at Ignihyde’s laboratory arrives, he has all those trinkets on his desk. He’s so ready.

ill see you there at 2, Idia’s text reads, bring the stuff i told u to make

Yes, yes, right away! Kero smiles bright as he gathers the miniature machines into a shoe box he’d gotten for them. He can feel his tail wag with excitement even as he carries it through the gloomy late-night corridors.

The door opened with a bang — Oops, he definitely handled it too roughly — Kero chimes as soon as he sets foot into the lab. “Idia!” He calls when he arrives. “I’m here!”

“Eek!” Idia, who was already leaned over the table, spreading scratchy blueprints and machine parts on it, is startled in a jolt. “D-Don’t sneak up on me like this! Geez…”

“Heheh, sorry, sorry.” Kero laughs, setting the box near the other items on the table, which Idia eagerly turns to inspect, complaints or not. Well, if that was the case, he’d inspect Idia for a bit too. He was looking unusual today, after all! Without that heavy jacket of his, wearing his lab wear and striped shirt. Kero’s heart leaps. “You’re looking good today, huh! ‘s unusual to see you looking like this, like… one of these R cards from your gacha games, or something.”

Kero feels proud of himself for the comment — Hey, Idia, look at me, I pay attention to your rambling! But Idia makes an offended noise instead.

“T...The R cards are the common ones, stupid.” He scoffs, giving him a narrow eyed look, but there’s still a soft flush of pink over his cheeks. “Ugh, I can’t believe I let you spend time with me when you don’t know that.”

Well. Kero tried, all he can do is laugh about it. At least he didn’t miss the compliment entirely! “Ehh, you do it ‘cause we’re best friends and you love me!” He says. “C’mon, we should get started on this already.”

“...y-yeah, yeah, whatever.” Idia shakes his head, but when he turns his face towards the table to look at their work in progress, there’s a slight smile on his blue lips that Kero couldn’t possibly miss. “Did you make the conveyor belts? I think I forgot to send you anything on these, couldn’t decide what material would be better for them…”

Moments like these are just so… so everything. Kero can’t find the words to describe how happy he is to be around Idia and be able to say things like that! Though, he feels it’s not exactly enough… even if all of this does feel nice, and he’s grateful for it.

(Well, he has a crush on Idia, that much he knows, so he guesses that’s something to be expected, in a way? He’s heard his classmates talking about the being unable to get enough related to someone so it was just part of it, probably. What they have now is good, straight out of his dreams even! Just… feelings are weird, aren’t they? He keeps wanting more, though he doesn’t know exactly what would sate this hunger.)

“Oh, I did rubber on the top and some of that light metal for the parts. I thought it’d be better if we don’t make it too heavy!” Kero replies, digging around for his own lab gear he’d brought. They might have to do some welding today, so it was always good to be careful.

(Plus, they got to match outftits!)

Idia nods, focused gaze on a miniature engine. “Ohh… huh. That’s good, actually. I think this might be easier than I thought.” He mutters. “We have all the parts to build the interior of the factory… I guess we could put that together tonight, and tomorrow we can get the rest? For the outside, I guess. If we just focus on the factory instead of the, uh, social repercussions or something like that, Trein might deduct points.”

He feels his ears deflate just a little at the teacher’s mention. “Tell me about it.” Idia passes him the engine, a silent command for him to get to work linking it with the other right parts. “Do you want me to get the stuff for the scenery from the store?”

“Yeah, sure. Would be helpful.”

Kero smiles at him, and for a single silent moment they’re putting the machine parts together. Engines and gears and a seemingly endless stretch of conveyor belts, wires and such hidden on the inferior part of the styrofoam slab the mockup was being built on.

“...hey, is that the battery?”

“Yup! Just gotta charge with magic whenever you wanna see it working.”

Idia turns it around on his hands, looking at it from every angle, making a humming noise to himself…

Huh, Kero is suddenly very aware that they’re all alone in that laboratory.

Maybe it’s because of how Idia looks at the small object, or how he touches it with this utmost care one wouldn’t think he has. It’s weirdly easy for other people to assume Idia was lazy, Kero recalls, and it was something he never really understood. He was such a diligent person, actually, but people couldn’t see it right because he didn’t put effort into things people commonly worked hard in. That makes him feel sort of bitter inside, he thinks, but also proud in a way.

He’s the only one who knows Idia this closely, it comes into Kero’s mind, and a smile sprawls across his face.

“...w-what? Why are you looking at me like that?” Of course, Idia notices. The pinkish glow on his face before turns into something more like strawberry red, and… agh, what the hell, Kero’s smile gets bigger.

“It’s ‘cause you’re so cute, of course!” He says without missing a beat. How many times has he called Idia cute now? Far too many to count. But he can’t stop, and it never feels like enough to show just how god damn adorable Idia was to him. It was such a crazy feeling, really.

“Gh… and you’re e-embarrassing, as always.” Idia responds as he averts his eyes. “We’ve gotta finish this as soon as possible, y’know, now’s not the time for...t-this.”

“What do you mean with this?” Kero asks amidst a laugh. Idia looks at him with this cranky sort of expression and his heart feels like it’s about to take off and fly, wow. “You asked me a question and I answered it!”

“Yeah, you answered it while being a jerk.” Idia mumbles, getting back to unscrewing something. Kero doesn’t get what he mean with it exactly but, well, he always says stuff like this.

“I mean it, though! I think you’re really cute.” He says, it’s so easy to say things like that, they end up just coming out on their own, even when he’s trying to put his brain cells back into work like Idia wants him to. “I tell you that all the time! D’you not think you’re cute?”

Idia glances at him with wide eyes. “I...n-no? What in the Lord of the Underworld makes you think I’m c-cute?” He asks, voice almost an octave higher.

Something about this strucks Kero differently. Is that a rhetorical question? It doesn’t matter. He wants to answer.

“Well, do you want me to tell you?” He suggests, and his heart is racing. It takes just a little bit of effort to ask something like this, it’s not quite having to hype himself up for it, but… well. What’s with this mood anyways? Idia’s hands are on his flushed cheeks, gloved fingers ready to cover up his eyes, like he usually does when he’s flustered — And here’s something to add to the list already, wow.

“I-I, um.”

“If you don’t say no I’m gonna tell you.” He looks straight into Idia’s eyes… such a nice shade of yellow, an amber-gold. Kero doesn’t always mean to tease, but now he does. He has a strong impulse to do it, a determination like he’s rushing towards the finish line in track — What sort of face would Idia show him if he told him everything? “Three, two, one…you lost your chance to say no! I’m gonna tell you.”

Idia squeaks like he got jumpscared, but he doesn’t object to any of it. Kero’s excited — He takes a step closer, and takes it upon himself to touch Idia’s hair again, because he absolutely couldn’t get enough of how it didn’t burn him.

“First of all, I know you hate it since it sticks out so much, but your hair is really cute.” He says, tucking a lock of hair behind Idia’s ear, feeling him shrink and tense under the light touch — Would he do that if Kero touched him more? If he wrapped his arms around Idia’s waist and held him close? “It’s so bright and pretty, and the bangs look so nice on you, they’re kinda messy and long but in a way that’s adorable.”

Indulging himself a little further, he lets his hand ghost over Idia’s bangs, brushing them to the side and watching them fall back into place. Idia’s face is fully red now. The hair doesn’t feel like much to the touch since it’s fire, actually, but, something about it…

“Second! You have a cute smile!” Kero chimes. He’s supposed to retract his hand now, but — It just stays on Idia’s cheek. And he finds that he really doesn’t want to take it off there. “When you talk about the things you like, and you get all excited about them and start grinning… it’s really cute, actually. I like it when I see you all full of energy.”

Idia’s eyes dart around. Are his hands shaking? Kero eyes at them briefly, before taking one into his — Unable to stop himself again — and the latex of his glove meets Idia’s, watched by wide amber eyes as he laces their fingers together. Shaking, indeed, but he was able to steady them.

“Third… related to that, how your hands move when you’re rambling. I stare at them a lot. That’s how much I love to see you all excited about stuff.”

His voice had fallen softer. The coldness of the laboratory seems to just fade. Kero’s heart feels…

“Fourth...” He starts, but no words come to him. He just stares at Idia’s face, his eyes, the blue tint of his lips. There’s more to say, obviously, but he can’t think of it, and he— “...can I kiss you?”

Somehow there’s no recoil time, no surprised noise on Idia’s part, and though he loves his shyness and how it shows through, he finds that he loves it even more when he’s expecting something like this, when he wants it. The shaky, uncertain nod is all he needs to give a name to that hunger he’d been feeling.

Ah, he was in love, everything be damned.

Kero doesn’t hesitate. One hand on his cheek and the other holding his, his lips meet Idia’s, his heart now soaring completely. If he looked back on it now he’d probably find it sort of awkward, Idia’s lips are chapped and the sharp teeth felt strange against each other, but none of this matters when he feels so euphoric, when Idia just melts into his kiss, eyes fluttering shut.

He doesn’t know how long it lasts. The brief pauses to breathe aren’t enough to actually do so, but neither of them seem to mind. The held hands unlace, Idia’s coming up to Kero’s neck to urge him closer, Kero’s on Idia’s waist like he’s dreamed.

When they pull away, both breathless, Kero is grinning, and Idia looks dazed, his eyes glossy, at least for a moment before he seems to realize what they’ve just done.

“O-Oh my...we.” He squeaks, freezing in Kero’s embrace. “W-We, we just…”

“Hey, it’s cool!” Kero assures, and he pulls him a bit closer, now causing a small shriek. “I love you, you know.”

“Y-You…” Idia stutters. How long would it be until he was able to string sentences together again? Kero doesn’t have an exact estimate, but, well, this was fine too. Especially as his tension drops, and he hides his warm face on Kero’s shoulder. “...you’re the worst? You’re so embarrassing I could die.”

“That’s a quick recovery, huh.”

“S-Shut up!” Idia whines, but he stays. He stays, and Kero holds him so close that his happiness feels like it’s overflowing, and the cravings from before are just slowly satisfied. “I… I, um.”

“Tell me.” A hand on the side of Idia’s face, he pulls his face upwards, making him look into his eyes again — Would he ever get enough of this, though? They’re so close. “Do you love me too, Idia?”

Idia hesitates, an embarrassed noise leaving him.

“I… I do.” He mutters — And he smiles. “You idiot.”

Kero smiles, his feelings actually overflowing in how he hugs Idia even tighter, and he laughs.

The project could be finished tomorrow, anyways.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst x oc #twst oc #idia shroud #lis writing #commissions tag

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