#in return he puts me through the horrors for his entertainment | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alessiamalfoyzabini · 3 months

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𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨

Pairing | Yandere Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 1,672

Warnings | +18, bullying, attempted sexual harassment, panic attack

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | If she had paid attention earlier to the sin that dwelt behind those obsidian irises, she would never have trusted it.

If she had noticed earlier the devouring love that dwelled in his corrupt heart, she probably would have fled.

She had done none of that, and now she had to come to terms with her new reality.

➢ Author's Note | I'm back with the second chapter of Happy Ending, I hope you can enjoy it 🥰❤

Chapter List - I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII / The End

Toward the end of class, some had already turned in their drawings, others had yet to finish, and Jungkook intimated that they should bring them the next time they saw each other. Y/N shakily got up from her seat, sent down too much saliva as she came within a few steps of the boy, who lifted his face in her direction, giving her a warm smile. "Y/N! Are you done?" The girl nodded, unable to verbalize her thoughts, so she placed the drawing on the desk, bending down a bit, this gave Jungkook a chance to get a better peek at how she was dressed that day, drinking in the sight of her legs and imagining how soft and creamy they might be in his adoring hands. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing the most unruly strands back, and Y/N froze, following his movements with her eyes.

"Wow, Y/N...great job, as always," he complimented, proud that his good girl had done such a detailed job of depicting the disembodied cloud with shapeless, skeletal hands-that to her was bullying, something no adult could see, but which managed to trap its victims in a spiral of suffering and muteness. The girl blushed at his words, bowing slightly before reaching her seat. Behind her back she sensed a slight snort that caused her to stiffen. Jungkook had to leave the command to another colleague, stared disgruntled at the girl, but vowed to do something for her, or rather, for both of them. He would not let that terrible pattern continue, Y/N deserved better, in his arms he would be able to give her the happiness and love she lacked, as he could clearly see.

And so the day continued, until it was time to return home.

Y/N hurriedly packed her things, the threat of Yoozu loomed over her, and anxiously walked out of the classroom. She didn't greet anyone, and no one greeted her, she looked fearfully at every corner of the corridors, a hustle and bustle of students and teachers did not allow her to increase her pace, she found herself pushing through the crowd almost in desperation, she wanted anything but to be in the jaws of her classmate. Oh, if only she had known... "So, beggar!" someone brutally grabbed her by the arm, pulling her to him right outside the university, Yoozu stared at her with anger concealed behind a fake smile, "We still haven't discussed the slap you so kindly printed on my face," he growled.

Y/N felt herself dying, she tried to wriggle out of her companion's firm grip, but it proved utterly useless, the boy's icy fingers pressed on her tender skin without restraint. "Let go of me! Let go of me, Yoozu!" she exclaimed in panic, her breathing shorter and her heartbeat faster, but he if possible painfully increased his grip on her wrist, painful bruises would appear shortly. "Not so fast, first you have to pay me back for the shit you made me look like today," he hissed, dragging her toward a more secluded alley, Y/N grabbed the mirror of a car parked nearby in a desperate attempt to save herself, but Yoozu was much stronger than she was, "Be good, I'll only need your mouth, then I'll let you go for today." Those words were the straw, the girl began to scream and call for help, Yoozu immediately plugged her mouth but it was too late. Someone had heard her, and that someone was smoking with rage.

"What the hell is going on here?" The quiet but unusually dangerous voice made the boy pale, and he suddenly let go of his grip on the girl. Y/N fell to the ground with momentum, right at the feet of someone she knew. She lifted her gaze and caught the icy expression on Jungkook's handsome face; she also seemed to catch a glimpse of murderous fury in his irises, but in fact she could not be one hundred percent certain. "I... nothing, I just wanted to apologize to Y/N for today," Yoozu dared to say, but Jungkook did not buy that pathetic excuse. "Is that so? It would seem anything but to me." Jungkook had seen the whole scene, had even managed to hear those vulgar words that had screwed up his self-control. "Professor, it really went like this! But Y/N didn't understand, she thought that-" a sob interrupted his absurd explanations, Jungkook's heart clenched, as did his eyes. "Kang Yoozu, you are expelled." "Wait, what! You can't do that! You are not the principal, and on the basis of what then?!" Yoozu panicked, Jungkook found it disgusting. "I'm not the principal, but I'm on good terms with him, as for the motivation...how does attempted rape sound to you?" he asked wryly, making the boy gasp. No, with such a charge no other university would have accepted him and his parents would have sent him to some godforsaken place in shame. "Professor, can we talk about this? Please, this will ruin my life," he prayed agitatedly, admitting his real intentions that way. "The more I listen to you, the more I want to ruin something else too! Get out of my sight, Kang!" he shouted furiously, Yoozu at first seemed not to understand, then casting a glance at Y/N's kneeling figure he took a step back and began to run.

Jungkook inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself somehow, he couldn't believe what had happened before his own eyes, he turned to the girl and felt only immense pain, she was on her knees on the icy asphalt wet with rain, she kept holding her head in her hands, trying to stifle her sobs. He lowered himself in her direction, god, she was beautiful even with her face overflowing with tears. He brought two fingers under her chin, gently forcing her to lift her face to his, chaining their eyes together. "Hey, Y/N..." he gently blew on her, gathering the tears that ran down her full cheeks with his thumbs, "Are you okay?"

If possible, Y/N exploded into more sobs, throwing herself on her professor. She pushed into his chest seeking comfort, Jungkook was frozen for a moment, he did not expect such a reaction from the girl, his heartstrings tugged filling with warmth, he returned the embrace immediately, holding that tender body to him. "It will never end," she cried into his neck, breathing hard between sobs and bathing the boy's skin with warm salt water, "It will always be like this." Jungkook stroked her hair, imprinting the sweet scent of her on his mind, mentally whispering to her that no, it would not be like this anymore, that he would protect her. "No, Y/N... I'll talk to the principal, they won't hurt you anymore, trust me," he said instead continuing to gently caress her back, having her like this was like a dream just realized, he didn't even know how long he had wanted it, "Can you trust me, Y/N?" He moved her face away from his chest, seeking a clear answer from her, he wanted to be sure she wanted his help. Y/N let a trembling sigh escape, nodding. Jungkook's eyes were so sincere and crystal clear that it was natural for her to trust him, although her body still trembled at the mere thought of what Yoozu wanted to do to her. "Yes, I can," she murmured, Jungkook felt the need to kiss her just then, she was so polite and tender his little girl, who knows if she would have said the same begging him to give her more.

"I'll drive you home, Y/N, I have my car right next door, okay?" the young woman nodded without thinking much about it, her mind still too shocked by recent events to really think. Jungkook helped her up, escorting her to his car as if she had been a little doll in his hands. They both climbed into the vehicle and Jungkook got directions to find their way, cast a glance at the younger woman's legs, his hand itching to touch them, but he forced himself not to go too far for the moment. Rather, he focused on the magnificent smell of his favorite student, but the closer he got to his destination, the more he found himself turning up his nose. He didn't like that neighborhood; it was one of the most dangerous in the fucking city. Every day on the news there were reports of robberies, or worse. He cast a sidelong glance at the girl, wondering how she had survived in that place so far. Knowing her in that bad place upset him in no small part, and when they reached the apartment building Jungkook's gaze grew hard-they could all get to those windows, they were pretty old, too.

"Well, I live here, professor! Thank you for the ride and... for the help," she found herself saying impishly, Jungkook melted into yet another smile that day, the real and sincere ones were all for her, she just didn't know it yet. "Just ask, Y/N...and I'll be here for you," he said earnestly, the girl nodded, unable to respond and opened the door to get out of the car, gave one last wave and then ran inside. Leaving behind the eager gaze of her teacher. She closed the door to her apartment behind her back, a deep warm throbbing did not hint at leaving her anytime soon.

Jungkook's presence was all she could think about, she let herself slide against the surface of the door, in her mind were imprinted images of the man holding the steering wheel firmly in his strong hands, his muscular arms still uncovered and damp with rain, seemed strong enough to carry her without any effort at all, not to mention how he had defended her without too much trouble, quietly defying the economic power of Yoozu's parents, she clutched her legs to her chest, hiding her red face between them. Damn, she was really in love.

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts x reader #bts yandere #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook #bts yandere smut #bts fanfic #yandere

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biteofcherry · 6 months

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No such thing as finality

vampire!Curtis Everett x reader; Dracula!Curtis Everett x reader

summary: When Curtis returns to his newly acquired mansion in London, he's greeted by an unexpected sight...

warnings: angst; so so much angst; and feels; dark-ish; a bit of blood (there are vampires in this story, after all); mention of death;

Author's note: This is my small contribution to @witchywithwhiskey's Horror Movie Hoe-a-thon. The classic horror movie I based my inspiration on is Bram Stoker's Dracula. Though, me being me, I put a wicked twist to it. Hope you enjoy! The title "No such thing as finality" is also a quote from the Dracula book.

Lush scent of roses, bowing their graceful necks as wind gained momentum, didn’t fully cover the sweet, decadent smell of freshly spilled blood.

It would lure him in curiosity in any other circumstances, but since he didn’t expect anyone to be willingly bleeding inside his mansion, it made him wary.

Curtis wasn’t scared. There was no human, nor creature in this universe that could truly harm him. Any attack that may happen upon him, would be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly. He could rip them apart with bare hands; move so fast and snap their neck before they even blinked; sink his fangs into an artery and rip it out; take the shape of a beast and tear them inside out.

He should do it for the sheer audacity of breaking into his household, as newly acquired and not yet fully lived-in it was.

Taking measured steps, Curtis walked through the open wings of the glass, orangerie doors. Moonlight reflected in crystal chandeliers. Shadows crept along the walls, attempting to intimidate, but quickly withdrawing in submission to his own, chilling darkness.

There was a faint glow of warm light seeping from beneath the double door leading to the ballroom. The sound of crackling fire announced someone’s preparation for his return.

Curtis lifted a hand and the door opened in a burst, a gust of wind rubbing against his cheek affectionately before it whipped inside in a cold snap.

His gaze instantly fell on the crumpled body in the middle of the polished, hardwood dancefloor - a decorative gore centerpiece of blue silk, soft skin and pool of ruby red blood.

He recognized her.

Mina.

That dress was the one he gifted her; as inappropriate as it was, since her engagement ring still shined on her slender finger and she had made no promise of breaking that word to Jonathan Harker, even if her lips trembled to say more than just a thank you to Curtis. Her lovely face of soft lines and ethereal delicacy, which he drew obsessively in the past weeks, remained angelic as her life slipped away.

Curtis knew her, craved her and now he felt… mildly irritated.

A frown marred his face as he searched his feelings. Surely he should feel something stronger. Rage that would fly him across the room. Despair that would turn him into a wailing beast.

There was a flicker of annoyance - both at having her snatched from his grasp before he got to explore this madness and at being challenged so obviously.

As an apex predator he didn’t entertain any form of challenge.

Slowly, his eyes moved from Mina’s dying body to the hem of your shimmering gown inches from the dark pool of blood.

It was one of your favorite dresses - an almost translucent, pale fabric lined with exquisite sparks that gave the illusion of your body being encrusted in diamonds. Yet you didn’t seem bothered by the fact it bore stains of blood where it splashed when you sunk your teeth into the woman’s neck.

Red essence still dripped from your chin as you boldly stared at Curtis across the room.

“Hello, husband.”

Beads decorating your hair caught flickers of amber glow as you tilted your head in greeting. In that moment you were the epitome of a dark goddess from centuries ago; one he turned you into when he promised you an eternity at his side. One who walked with him through the darkness and filled it with your own light.

Light he forgot about in the fleeting moment of obsession.

“Beloved.” Though Curtis’ voice bore an undertone of reprimand at what you have done, his term of endearment didn’t change. “You’ve overstepped.”

Your eyes flashed red glow at his admonition, as it hinted at the importance of the dying, pathetic reflection of a woman from eons ago. She was not important! She couldn’t be important to him. You were!

“Overstepped?!” You hissed, your fangs elongating as you turned abruptly. “I was left in the castle, foolishly dreaming of and preparing for the move to the estate my dear husband went to secure. Meanwhile he fucking romanced a silly, mortal goose!”

“Mortal she may have been, but Mina wasn’t as unimpressive as you make her to be.” He didn’t know why he was defending his betrayal, since there was still not a single flare of rage urging him to snap your neck.

Curtis didn’t think there’d ever be a time the mere thought of ending your immortal life entered his mind. Though he felt a pang of pain, somewhere in the hollowness of his chest where a heart should beat, when he realized the weight of hurt he must’ve caused you as he prowled after Mina.

“I’m sure her face resembling your dead first wife was a truly impressive genetic lottery win,” you snorted, “but have you become as all those pathetic mortal men, ready to cheat on their actual wife with a new hot piece of ass?!”

“Do not accuse me of something that didn’t happen.” His irises splintered; red scythe filling over the blue iridescence like an eclipse taking over the sun.

A broken giggle bubbled on your lips. Your gaze shifted away from him, staring at the flames in one of the fireplaces.

“Oh, have I come just in time to prevent you from giving her the biggest fang?” You asked bitterly.

In a flash, Curtis was across the room. Fingers curling around the front of your neck and slamming you into the opposite wall. He pressed you against it, his grip on your throat not loosening and the heat of his body enfolding yours.

Curtis was considered a dead creature, but he burned as if the hellfire itself ran through his veins. It was only him, though. He created you, but you never felt your own warmth. There were others whom he sired over the centuries and who sired next generations of vampires. They all ran cold, too. Only Curtis’ dark flame burned eternal.

“You’re treading on thin ice.” He warned you, even as he delighted in the intense emotion you provoked. With you everything was always intense.

Always… alive.

Curtis was angry that you would accuse him of such a disgusting act like cheating. Angry at himself for giving you the reason to think the worst of him.

His obsession with Mina was unhealthy and borderline stalking. He was gifting her with attention and this one material present. But he didn’t have a plan of what he wanted from her exactly. Even as he played with the verbal seduction she was slowly falling for, not once did he imagine bedding her, or turning her.

It was more of a need to keep her, explore her, hold on to whatever she represented for his tortured soul.

But he was blind to how his madness made him act towards you.

“What will you do?” You asked in a hushed tone, redness of your irises receding to the natural color of your eyes. “Are you going to destroy me? The woman you vowed to love for eternity? The woman you turned, branded in every possible way as yours?”

It wasn’t a spiteful challenge of a scorned queen, but a fear of a lively woman who stole his evil heart five centuries ago.

One who often walked barefoot, even before vampirism made you immune to the cold. Wearing simple dresses, with pockets filled with flowers and herbs and shiny stones plucked from mountain rivers. He bought you many stunning dresses over the centuries and you loved them, but most of the time you still wore the simplest ones.

Curtis could only assume you dressed in the finest gown and adorned yourself with jewels to impose your power over Mina. To carry yourself as the queen about to crush a threat to her kingdom.

There was never a threat. Not once did he consider leaving you behind and never returning.

“I’d sooner meet my own end,” his fingers clenched on your throat as he squeezed his eyes in pain.

When he vowed to love and care for you for eternity, until the sun burnt human cities down and reached to scorch your entwined bodies, he meant it with every fiber of his cursed being.

“I haven’t cheated.” Curtis sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t think I would have.”

“And yet here we are…” Your cool breath still carried the metallic scent of blood.

He wouldn’t allow these thoughts to linger, to hurt you with doubt and resentment. He’d rather have you angry with him than broken. And there were ways to stoke your fire, keep it burning and warming him.

“Yes, here we are, Beloved.” Curtis’ tongue flicked out to lick away a drop of blood from the corners of your lips; his tone dropped an octave, vibrating with a beastly timbre. “With you in my grasp. With her dead body getting cold a few steps away and me not even being angry about it.”

Because he really wasn’t. There was that irritation at not having fully figured out what it was exactly that he chased in Mina, but none at the loss of her. Not from your hands, anyway.

You cupped Curtis face with your hands, showing him softness that he claimed he never deserved (but which you taught him to accept, adamant in your decision that he was worthy of your love).

“What was it that you searched for with her?” You asked, even though you were scared of his answer.

“I don’t know.” Curtis admitted; his eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. “A memory? A man I used to be? The humanity I lost?”

Mina looked like the exact image of Elisabeta - the wife he had as a human, whose death led him to do unspeakable things that cost him his soul. She was a reflection of the young, impulsive human man, who was too naive and too desperate in his love.

Perhaps Mina’s angelic face brutally reminded him of the crushing pain and being the self-punishing bastard that he was, Curtis clung to her to hurt himself over and over again. Staying away from you, too, because he spiraled down into thoughts of unworthiness once again.

“I didn’t know you at twenty one springs,” you said, “but the man I got to know at his honed one hundred years of vampirism and then spent centuries with? I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.”

Curtis was a vampire king. The oldest, the first to ever be made. At least the first either of you encountered. He fed on blood, could be brutal about it, or very gentle. Depending who the victim was. There were streaks of ruthlessness and cruelty in him, you witnessed him drown villages in blood then watch it sink into the ground with grim satisfaction.

But he also carried the children from said villages in his arms, finding them new homes in places where humans weren’t as rotten and wouldn’t hurt them like the people of their hometowns had.

Curtis was the monster parents scared their children with; but that monster saved those kids when their parents were the ones abusing them. Or when they allowed others, holy men included, to hurt them.

No, you would never trade Curtis for any other man.

“Not even at this moment of weakness?” Curtis’ deep, low voice resounded with a soft uncertainty.

You were still mad at him, but you couldn’t help that need to comfort him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, scratching lightly at the back of his head in a caress that always made him shudder and melt into your embrace.

“Why do you think I’m still here, facing you?” You sighed, tilting your head back enough to look Curtis in the eyes.

“I could’ve ripped her to pieces and then fled. Leave you alone in the misery you would have brewed for yourself.” That was what Curtis did at least once every decade - sink into a really low mood and break your heart with how vulnerable and helpless he was at the time.

“But, my dear husband, I love you too fiercely to let you go. The heart that you claim is void of humanity and care is one that made me say yes when you offered me immortality at your side.”

“I feared…” You dropped your gaze down. “I feared you went after her, because you grew bored of me. That I was so easily replaceable.”

Throughout the centuries not once did Curtis stray away, nor did he isolate himself from you. Sometimes, when he was in his depressive mood he’d often space out, sinking into his gloomy thoughts, but even then he was physically nearby. Mindlessly caressing your body as you cuddled him and anchoring himself to you.

This trip across the sea took long, but the time kept stretching and stretching as Curtis worked on all the formalities of buying a mansion and re-settling onto a new soil. Impatient for his return, you decided on visiting him.

It was supposed to be a surprise for him, but turned into a shock for you when you saw that woman’s starstruck gaze as he escorted her to the carriage.

Curtis gripped your chin between his fingers and gently tilted your face up. Sadness in his gaze crumbled way to determination.

“Never.” He vowed. “It’s a burden I have to carry now, knowing that I’ve hurt you.”

“I’ll give you centuries to make it up to me.” You allowed your lips to curve in a small smile, then leaned to press a soft kiss to Curtis’ mouth.

“Most gracious, Beloved.” Curtis smiled against your lips. He let go of your chin, sneaking that hand down your body and gripping your thigh. His other hand was still wrapped around your neck, fingers pressing a tad harder. Just the way you liked.

In a swift move, he hoisted you up. Your legs wrapped around his hips, the snick of ripping fabric making you giggle.

“I’ve yet to welcome you properly to our new mansion.” Curtis purred, licking a broad stroke across your bloodied chin. “You’ve already christened it with blood. Now I want to fill the walls with your sounds of pleasure.”

#witchywithwhiskey #horrormoviehoeathon #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x female reader #curtis everett imagine #curtis everett fic #vampire!curtis everett #no such thing as finality

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throatofdelusionincarnate · 10 days

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Honeybee

Horror! Sans x Reader Oneshot

Here’s a little self indulgent crap from me to you because I cannot get my mind off of Horror Sans lately :)

Might be posted to AO3 later under the same username throatofdelusionincarnate

Word Count - 2,478

—

The soft grumble of thunder draws you from your sleep. You turn, glancing at the clock on the bedside table and blink a few times. Six thirty. On a Saturday. You rub your eyes and sigh. Soft rain patters against the window of your apartment and beside you Sans slumbers on.

You watch his large chest rise and fall for a moment. When you first got together, you thought it was a choice he consciously made. Something to make him seem more human. Though, after months together, you had realized it was just something he did. Perhaps it serves a purpose, pumping magic through his body as yours does blood. Or maybe it’s just a subconscious habit that he’s picked up. Either way, his large breaths comfort you.

Gently, you place a hand on his skull, just directly under the large wound that decorates the top of his head, and stroke his cheek with your thumb.

You won’t be able to go back to sleep, not with the growing thunderstorm outside. Still, there’s no reason to wake him up. You know how difficult it is for him to sleep, and you’d prefer that he gets the rest he needs. You can entertain yourself for a couple of hours.

You lean forward and place a chaste kiss on his brow bone. He stirs for a moment, then returns to his rest, a stifled snore escaping. A small laugh leaves you and after one final peck on his nasal cavity you swing your legs over the bed.

The apartment is cold, per usual, and goosebumps climb up your legs before spreading to your arms, then tips of your fingers. You shuffle towards the closet, each step feeling like ice beneath your feet.

You disappear inside the small walk-in, shutting the door before turning on the light. The sudden brightness causes you to squint, and for a moment you only stand there, adjusting to the feeling of being awake.

Once you can finally see, you rummage through your clothing for pants and some socks. You slip on a pair of very loved sweatpants, tying them at the waist so they don’t fall down. Then, you perform your best balancing act as you put on your socks. Regrettably, you roll the sweatpants over them, hiding the bacon decal and the phrase “make today sizzle!”

After your legs and feet are successfully bundled up, you turn to Sans’s stash of clothing and grab out a comically large grey sweatshirt with red lettering that says “BAD TO THE BONE” on it. You slip it over your pj shirt, allowing the hem to hang just above your knees. You swim through the sleeves for a moment before your hands emerge and you can push the cuffs to sit at your wrist.

You shut off the closet light then stumble out of the dark bedroom as Sans continues to softly snore.

The world is quiet save for the interspersed roll of thunder. So long as you’re up, you might as well make some breakfast. By the time you finish Sans will most likely be awake. His rest comes in short bursts.

If you remember correctly he crawled into bed at two last night. Four hours is longer than he normally sleeps, but the rain does tend to make him more tired than usual.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and click on the music app and press shuffle. A soft song radiates from the speaker and you leave the phone propped up on the counter to play as you cook.

Slowly, you collect your ingredients, settling for pancakes and bacon. You hum along to the song, whisking pancake mix together with milk, extra vanilla, and a dash of orange juice.

The rain grows heavier outside, pounding against the kitchen window. The occasional streak of lighting brightens the room before thunder overtakes it.

You pry open the package of bacon and set a few slices in the pan, watching them curl and sizzle against the heat.

Thunder booms and you jump as a large set of arms are folded around your waist.

“m’ sorry. didn't mean to scare you.” You settle into the grip, looking up to see Sans standing over you.

A small laugh spills from you. “The thunder startled me, though I still can’t get over how quiet you walk.” He leans his head down and you press a quick kiss to his teeth. “Did I wake you?”

He straightens back up and shakes his head. “nah, storm got loud. slept for too long anyways.”

Gently, the two of you begin to sway. He rests his skull on top of your head. You pull an arm free to grab a fork then flip the bacon over to let the other side darken. “Ah yes, because five hours is such a crazy amount of time to sleep.”

Sans just hums in response. The two of you will probably end up on the couch today, so you’re almost certain that Sans will get another couple hours of sleep. You might sneak in a little nap yourself. The rain is definitely making you drowsy despite just having woken up.

“Chocolate chips in your pancakes?” You ask, pulling out the bacon and setting it on a paper towel-lined plate.

“you know me so well,” he rumbles above you.

“I should hope so,” you grab a small measuring cup and dip it into the batter, then pour it onto the pan to cool. “We’ve been dating for almost a year now. I’d be a poor partner if I didn’t know how you liked your pancakes,” You pour more batter into the pan.

“You’re gonna have to let me go if you want chocolate chips.”

“or we could awkwardly shuffle over to the cabinet together.” Sans offers.

You roll your eyes and tap on his arm, “C’mon big guy, let go.”

A small gasp escapes you as you're lifted off your feet. Sans cradles you, a large grin on his face. “hmm… don’t think I will.”

You squirm a bit in his grasp, giving him a playful glare. “Sans the pancakes are going to burn.”

“i like mine a little crispy anyways.” He says.

“Well i don't!”

He shrugs, red eyes tracing over your features. “i ‘spose i can be persuaded… if ya got something good to offer in exchange for your freedom.”

“How about a not-charred breakfast?” You answer.

“tempting, but i might need a bit more. inflation is crazy right now.”

You sputter under his gaze. “You’re unbelievable!”

Though despite your protests, you stretch upwards, pressing your lips to his teeth. Sans returns the gesture, melting into you before pulling away. “There, now can I flip the pancakes?”

“m’ afraid you forgot tax.”

“Oh my god,” you deadpan. “How do you stay open with these business practices?” This time, you reach your hands up and pull his skull to you. Your nose presses against his cheek and you nuzzle him.

“what can i say,” Sans beams, red eye blown out and a light blush on his face. “my customers are very loyal.”

Finally he sets you down, though one hand still holds yours. “No accounting for taste,” you say, giving his fingers a quick squeeze before letting go.

Sans lingers, turning to lean against the counter as you grab chocolate chips. You scurry back to the pan and open up the bag before sprinkling the chocolate all over the pancakes. Then, you grab a spatula and flip them.

The tops are a very dark brown, verging on black. “These are yours,” you declare, nudging Sans with your hip.

He shrugs, “m’ not picky.”

You smile, “Yea I know. You’re my big cuddly garbage disposal.”

“who else is gonna eat the tomatoes off your burgs?” Sans’s hand sneaks forward, slipping into the bag of chocolate chips. He pulls out a small handful and tosses them into his mouth.

Playfully, you swat at him. “We’re not gonna have enough for the pancakes if you eat all of them.”

He ignores you, and grabs a single chip out. Sans makes eye contact with you, and you silently return it, daring him to. He does. With a self-satisfied grin he pops it into his mouth.

“You little shit!” You exclaim, snatching the bag up and setting it on the opposite side of you, away from his reach.

“awhhh c’mon hun,” he attempts to reach over you but you place your full weight against him to keep him back. You know he can easily move you if he wants to, but this is just play. Plus, he enjoys letting you win. “it’s just a few chocolate chips, i ain’t hurtin’ anyone.”

“I would like some in my pancakes,” you huff. “Once I’m done with them you can have as many as you wang.” You let up on the pressure and grab the spatula, putting the two slightly burnt pancakes on a plate. Gently, you push it into Sans’s hands. “Go butter these, hm?”

He sighs, “making me do manual labor this early in the morning? butter be grateful you’re cute.”

You snort, “Awh, you’re making me melt.”

“heh, good one. this is why you’re my butter half.”

Sans moves past you, plate in hand. As he crosses, you can see a skeletal hand try to reach into the bag. You gasp, and slam your hand down on the opening just before Sans can steal anymore chocolate.

“my genius plan, thwarted.”

“Butter luck next time,” you grin, hand still over the bag.

He chuckles, “you might’ve won for now, but I’m gonna get that chocolate eventually.”

He walks to the table, stopping quickly to grab a knife from the silverware drawer, then sets to work on doctoring up his pancakes.

With him gone you whip up a couple more batches, saving a generous handful of chocolate chips for Sans. The lull of rain and music settles you after your playful banter and you find yourself lightly humming along as you gather various accouterments for your meal.

You set the plate of pancakes in front of Sans and he gets to work on buttering those while you travel back and forth from the kitchen. You bring out the bacon, whip cream, syrup, and then two glasses with a couple juice options.

Finally, you settle in your seat across from Sans. He offers you the plate of pancakes first, knowing that you’ll take whatever you want and then he can have the rest.

You take two of the six and stack them on your plate before handing it back to Sans. Then you grab a couple of slices of bacon before sliding that over too. He eyes food and grabs the syrup, dousing his plate with it.

“Oh!” You exclaim, standing up. He lifts his gaze curiously as you dart back into the kitchen, grabbing the remaining chocolate chips. You set the bag in front of him. “For you!”

Sans smiles, pouring out a couple, “thanks hun.” He reaches across the table and gingerly arranges them in a small smiley on your pancakes.

You grin down at the happy looking face, “I hate to destroy such a cute gesture.”

“here lemme help,” Sans plucks one of the eyes off and eats it.

“Hey!” You protest playfully, reaching over to nab one of his chocolate chips. “There. We’re even.”

“‘spose we are,” He beams. “eat your food before it gets cold.”

You don’t have to be told twice. The two of you tuck into breakfast, a comfortable silence overtaking the room as you both enjoy the meal before you.

The constant rumble of thunder keeps you company as you finish up. Sans stands first, having finished his large plate of food, and grabs the serving dishes to take them to the sink. You stay behind, a bit slower at eating, and finish your food. Once done, you stand and bring your dirty dishes to the kitchen.

“you can just leave ‘em in the sink.’ He offers.

You nod, setting the dishes in the sink, then reach around to grab the washcloth. Gently, you nudge him to the side so you can wet the fabric down. You squeeze out any excess water and move back out of Sans’s way.

Quickly, you start the music back up and begin to wipe down the counters. A smooth voice comes out of the speakers as “Honeybee” by The Steam Powered Giraffes begins to play.

As you clean off the counters, removing any specks of flour and grease, you sing along. Behind you, Sans also begins to hum. You smile to yourself, enjoying the rasp of his deep baritone.

Everything is a peaceful, perfectly curated mix of noises that comforts you.

The sink shuts off and the clatter of dishes stops. Large arms squeeze your waist then spin you around to face them.

You look up at Sans, washcloth still in hand, and arch a brow. He removes the cloth from your grasp and replaces it with his hand, his smooth bony fingers enveloping yours.

His other hand stays at your waist and the two of you begin to sway. You get the hint and place your free hand on his chest, not quite tall enough to comfortably reach his shoulder.

Sans’s wide eye doesn’t leave you, and his usual expression melts into something akin to fondness.

“You didn’t have to smile at me, your grin’s the sweetest that I’ve ever seen. But you did. Yes, you did.” You sing softly as the two of you hold each other.

He brings your hand up to his teeth, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You practically become a puddle. Your head rests on his chest, cheek pressing firmly into his shirt. His smell envelops you. It’s chalky and tinged with blood, but you don’t mind.

The two of you had made peace with his gory past long ago. Survival isn’t pretty, but in the face of starvation one does what must be done. Now, all you can do is keep him full and offer comfort and affection when he has a difficult day.

“you didn’t have to offer your hand. ‘cause since i’ve kissed it, i’m at your command. but you did.”

The world around you seems to disappear, and you cling to him, savoring the rumble that reverberates through his soul when he sings.

“set me free, my honeybee.”

As the storm rages outside, you and Sans remain. You know that neither of your lives have been perfect. His, less so than most. But in this moment, you’re grateful for everything that brought you together. You’re grateful for burnt pancakes and stolen chocolate chips; for thunderstorms and way too early mornings. You’re grateful that you get to call Sans yours.

Hello goodbye, I’m rather crazy, and I never thought I was crazy.

But what do I know?

I let myself go.

#horror sans #horrortale #horror sans x reader #horror sans x reader oneshot #sans x reader #sans undertale #undertale #reader insert #horror!sans #horror!sans x reader #fluff #dancing in the kitchen #I love that big man with all my heart #easily one of the sans ever #ehehheheheh baby boy #mwah !#my writing #oneshot

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soniccrazygal · 10 months

Text

A Matter of ‘Pride’

Mike paced back and forth in his ‘bedroom’, the sound of creaking metallic joints and soft thuds from his heavy steps filling the silent air. He wasn’t exactly sure how long he had been locked and isolated in his room as his internal clock had been deactivated and there wasn’t any other means to truly mark the passage of time. Mike’s best guess was that it had been several days, maybe even a week based on the times he’s had to recharge.

It felt far longer than that though as every second had felt like an eternity as he agonized over how his siblings were doing without him there to help protect them and without him to play peacekeeper when the stress got too much. Elizabeth and Gregory especially were usually at odds with each other…

Oh Superstar… I’m so sorry… Mike thought mournfully, his stride a bit unsteady as fresh guilt flooded him. He had naively believed that simply getting the younger out of the Pizzaplex would be enough to save him from the horrors that lurked beneath it, but now the poor child had to deal with being recently murdered, sharing a body not meant for him, and forced to comply under the rule of his killer.

Gregory was understandably chafing against the restrictions of this new ‘life’ and lashing out when he could. He barely had time to even mourn his death before William had started cracking down on his ‘behavior’. Elizabeth wasn’t helping matters by being more quick to fall and line and saying that Gregory should do the same.

And I left them alone… Mike though guiltily, pace picking up as anxious energy flowed through him. Granted he hadn’t been given much of a choice. Mike still couldn’t believe the audacity William had to ‘suggest’ they have ‘family bonding time’ every day and just assume they would all be okay with it.

Like they’ve been a family in decades.

Of course Mike had scoffed at the very idea and made it clear he refused to entertain William’s delusions that they could ever return to what they once were. The result had been Mike getting shocked for his words and locked in his room.

“Have you been stewing in the consequences of your own actions enough yet?” William asked casually from where he leaned in the doorway, making Mike jump and whip around in surprise. “Or you do still need a few more days to get over your stubborn pride?”

“My pride?” Mike snarled in disbelief and anger, giving his ‘father’ a hateful glare. “It isn’t pride that makes me refuse to spend time playing board games with a child killing psychopath! Why would I ever want to act like we’re still family you monstrous delusional fre-!”

Mike cut off with a wince of pain as the shocking system activated, hunching over slightly as the painful electricity flooded his body before dissipating. William gave Mike a disappointed look as he said, “Michael… haven’t I made it clear that you will always be my son? I will always love you and want you to be apart of my family, despite your previous attempts to destroy it by being the cause of your siblings deaths.”

Mike knew William was just preying on his old wounds to manipulate him, but the stab of guilt that went through him still felt far more painful than the electricity that had been hurting him just a moment earlier.

“That isn’t fair,” Mike said, trying his best to sound firm. “You can’t blame me for everything you’ve done…”

“Perhaps not, but there wouldn’t have been nearly as many deaths if you hadn’t kept impeding my progress,” William replied, standing up straight and stepping fully into the room. “And never forget that you’re a murderer too. You killed Evan and I’m the one that had to figure out how to put him back together.”

“It was an accident…” Mike weakly defended as he instinctively took a step back, all his old guilt and self loathing being dragged to the surface at William’s words. “I-I didn’t mean to… not like you!”

“I simply did what I had to to save this family,” William replied coldly as he stepped even closer, looming over Mike. “Nothing is more important to me than this family and I will do whatever it takes to make sure it remains intact and eternal. Something I would think you’d appreciate as I made sure you wouldn’t be able to harm your siblings ever again.”

“I’d never do anything to hurt them!” Mike shouted back, hating how easily William was able to make him feel like a simple rebellious teenager again.

“And yet you’re doing just that now,” William pressed on, not giving Mike time to organize his thoughts. “They’ve been asking about you you know? Asking how you’re doing and if they can see you… They miss you Michael and I hate denying them something so basic as being able to see you, but I can’t let your stubbornness go unchecked, not anymore. So ask yourself Michael… is your pride in refusing to spend a few hours with me and the whole family each day really worth not being able spend the rest of your time with them?”

Mike knew William wasn’t right, not really, but there was no point in trying to convince the madman of things like logic and morals. And in the end, Mike couldn’t deny that William had a point. Trying to deny William’s ‘request’ for time with the whole family was not worth being kept isolated from his siblings. He couldn’t leave them alone to face William without him there to be a buffer from the madman’s wrath and to provide what little comfort and protection he could.

Mike hated it, but he had no choice but to play along in this instance.

“Alright…” Mike sighed in defeat, his entire posture slumping a bit as he submitted to William’s demands. “I’ll participate in your stupid family bonding activities… just let me be able to be with my siblings again!”

“See… was that so hard?” William said with a pleased smile. “If you just obey me like you should, then I wouldn’t be forced to punish you like this so often. Come then, let’s go tell Evan and Elizabeth the good news.”

Mike had to force himself to remain silent as he had a lot of choice words he wanted to yell at William, but he couldn’t risk losing this chance to finally be back with his siblings again. William lead the way into the main room and the moment Evan and Elizabeth spotted Mike tailing behind him, the both lit up with relieved smiles.

“Mikey!” They both shouted in excitement as they ran forward to hug their brother, Mike automatically kneeling down to accept them into his arms.

“I missed you so much Mikey!” Elizabeth said as she squeezed Mike. “Don’t go away for that long again!”

“Gregory and I were trying to figure out how to sneak in to see you,” Evan whispered as he pressed up against Mike. “But we were worried we’d just get you in more trouble…”

“I’m here now though,” Mike assured as he held them close. “And I promise I’ll try not to leave you guys alone that long again…”

He knew that promise would mean complying more to William’s wishes, but Mike still made the promise anyway. His siblings were the most important thing to him and he had to be here for them in any way he could. He would always end up putting them first no matter what.

And from the smug smile Mike could see on William’s face… his father knew that too…

#rebuilt au #fnaf #william afton #michael afton #five nights at freddy's

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thecontumacious · 2 years

Text

"He's gone, come over!"

a/n: now because i accidentally deleted 🌹 anon's ask, they basically asked for luxiem w/ this trend from tiktok. i hope you're seeing this okay anon! ^^ warning: slightly suggestive!

reminder that all my work and others in the fandom are purely fiction and intended to entertain, not to be projected irl.

Vox Akuma 👹🌹

as you finally see vox pull out of the driveway, you quickly open your texts and send him the appropriate message

the second you sent it, vox has already read it and the car outside stopped in the middle of the street. it was luckily early morning so no one was really around to drive

you begin to laugh when you see him back the car into the driveway once again and immediately exit

he sees you through the window. he sends you a smirk

eh?

did he know?

your heart sinks to the ground, but at the same time you feel somewhat excited

vox rushes inside the house again and not a moment too soon, he's opening the bedroom door with a look you couldn't decipher. it scared you tbh but--

"so, care to tell me why you intend to make me jealous this early in the morning, dear?" though he claims he's jealous, the expression plastered onto his face says otherwise

your instincts tell you that he's only doing this to tease you--the fact he was literally just leaning against the doorway, arms crossed while smirking really perceives that

you could've retaliated, you could've deflected, you could've taken more charge

but you let the demon they call vox overpower you anyway

so effortlessly too

he approaches you and easily traps you against the bed with his arms, the smirk not ceasing for even a moment

he taps your chin, "well? are you going to answer me?"

"we-well i..."

you had a plan you swear. but vox just decided to throw that out the window

your eyes end up avoiding his, flustered

vox chuckles to his delight as he grabbed you by your chin to face him once more. this time, his expression seemed darker and you worry for your fate of today

"if you're going to prank me, you have to execute it correctly, love," he whispers, his eyelids lowering and lips just a few milimeters away

see, he knew it was just a joke

yet here he was, acting like he'd fallen for it just a few minutes ago

he curls his arm around your waist and his breath is now against your ear, sending a ripple of shivers down your back

"payback time," vox grins, shifting to your neck as his lips grazed on the skin. goosebumps raise and so does your heartbeat rate

he places soft, lingering kisses all over you collarbone and neck with such expertise. so much passion, but not too much where you're subconsciously begging for more

exactly how vox wanted you, so he lets go at the last minute

you let out an unwilling whine, fingers chasing after vox when you miss his presence

the demon coos satisfactorily, much to your dismay, "awe, someone needy this morning? my, my."

this was supposed to be a prank on him how did it turn on you

you pout at him, "vox..."

he cocks his head to the side, taunting, "yes?"

you've always wondered why you put up with his antics, then again it's why you fell in love with him in the first place. you groan, pride far too bruised to admit anything at this point

so vox leans in and pecks the top of your head before slipping away again with a huge grin on his infuriatingly handsome face. "i'll see to this matter finished after i return, yes?"

with nothing else to say (and definitely not complaining), you bite your lip and nod at his words, earning a smile of approval from your lover

"good. now behave for me, love. i'll see you in a bit," vox winks and he's out the door again.

who knows what he might have up his sleeve when he comes home later

other boys utc!

Mysta Rias 🦊🔶

just as mysta was about to back out from the driveway, you press send and merely sit and watch for his reaction

from the window, you could see him pause to look at your text and the look of horror on his face upon reading it. he immediately steps on the brakes and fumbles around before finally getting out of the car

mysta comically stomps his way back into the house with his phone displaying your most recent text, face flushed and utterly confused

"babe???" he calls out, turning to you who seemed to be casually scrolling through your phone

you throw him an innocent smile, "oh, hey mysta! i thought you were gonna head out?"

his eye twitches before shoving his phone into your hands, the tone of his voice high, "yeah, until i saw this."

you pretend to be looking and let out a gasp, widening your eyes, "oh shit, that wasn't supposed to be for you, mysta..."

"HUH?" he looks at you as though you just grew a second head, fairly taken aback and surprisingly absorbing in your act pretty easily

sigh this poor man

"then who the fuck was it for????" he seemed mad? but also sad? and confused and still pretty shocked? it was comedic really

it became harder to hold back your laughter every time mysta said something

"hey! answer meeeee," mysta resorts to tugging on your sleeve, his lip curling out as he begs with his eyes. that was when you couldn't take it anymore and burst out laughing in the next second

"hey, what's so funny, huh??"

"you, mysta. you're funny," you respond, giggling as he pouted even more. you gently took his face into your hands, squishing his cheeks as you place a chaste kiss on his lips as a preliminary apology gift. "i'm sorry, baby. it's just a prank."

"so no one's actually coming over?" mysta asks plainly

you nod, "yes. no one is coming over, love. i promise."

"hmph," the detective then places his head onto your lap, the need for the morning errand disappearing the longer he stayed there.

you pat his hair, "didn't you say you were going to run an errand?"

he mumbles, "i can do it later. i still haven't forgiven you for pranking me."

you can only laugh at what he says, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "i'm sorry baby. is there something i can do to make it up to you then?"

but he's oddly quiet and you start to worry

"mysta?"

said man raises his head and properly looks you in the eye. and there's a very genuine frown on his face

something sharp pokes at your chest and you begin to ask yourself if it was because of the supposedly harmless prank

"i was really worried for a second you were seeing someone besides me," he admits, looking away

oh shit

you sometimes do forget that mysta is not a complete clown. he's not always about fun and games. there are certain times where he really looks down on himself like this and you regret to have ever sent that text to him

you immediately bring him into your hold, whispering, "baby, i'm so, so sorry. i didn't mean it. i promise. you know i love you so much right? i would never think about being with someone else when i have you."

mysta hums, burying his face into your neck. "payback is a bitch huh?"

"wait huh??"

you feel the vibration of his chuckle against your skin and you realize that he had turn the tables on you

"mysta!" you hit his back lightly and he pulls away to pinch your pink cheeks

"how the turntables, eh?" he wiggles his eyebrows. but after a while, he holds your face and kisses you. "but thank you for saying that. it made me feel better. and i love you too."

Luca Kaneshiro 🦮🔆

luca makes it into the car and puts the key into the ignition. so you hurriedly take out your phone and type away the intended text, now all there is to wait for his response

boss ❤️ : is a friend coming over, babe?

and while his car did indeed stop, it didn't look like he was going to exit anytime soon

your heart deflates at the lack of response (and quite frankly how oblivious this man can be when it came to these things)

but how could you blame him for being incredibly trusting of you like this?

when you don't respond for a few minutes, your phone begins to vibrate and you realize that luca now is calling you--

"he-hello? luca?" you stutter through the line

"sorry if i scared you, honey! but about that text," he began, seemingly leaning into the car seat as far as you could see. "it sounds like i'm not supposed to know someone is coming over. something up, babe?"

you drag a hand over your face, "it's nothing baby, forget i sent that okay?"

"huh? wait no."

you hear him shift around the car and the door opening. you look out the window and see the mafia boss making his way back up into the mansion

seriously, this guy goes back inside in a hurry not because you sent a suspicious text but because you said 'never mind'

that's luca kaneshiro for you, i guess

you actually don't know what you had just put yourself into. how could you even thought that this type of prank would work on someone like luca anyway?

today was just not it huh

in a matter of minutes, the bedroom door opens and there's luca panting from jogging his way back over here

he cocks his eyebrow at you and you simply wave at him sheepishly

"do you wanna tell me what's going on, y/n?" luca inquires, taking a seat next to you

this entire time he'd been making his way up, you were desperately trying to find an explanation to give to him but in the end, as luca smiles at you innocently you don't have the heart to keep up the act

you whine, looking away while you crossed your arms, "it didn't work."

"what didn't work?"

"that text i sent you lucaaaa," you tug on his sleeve, causing him to laugh. "it was supposed to be a prank. like, make you worry that i was inviting someone else over. but you being you, it didn't work."

"oh you silly thing," luca continues to snicker at you

not only did the prank not work, now you're the butt of the joke all because of his plain innocence

"even if it was real though, i definitely would have thought you were just inviting a friend over or something without me knowing," he shrugs and this somehow infuriates you more

but you smile through it, sighing as there was not much hope left for the prank to go on

"ah, forget it, luca."

"were you trying to make me jealous?"

you turn to him and on luca kaneshiro's face is an expression you barely see. a devious smirk and an unspoken intention under that seemingly innocent face of his

he suddenly has you lying on your back, face hovering just a couple inches above you

luca's finger traces against your jaw while he smiles, "you're going to have to try harder, honey~"

what is going on who the heck is this

"lu-luca..."

your face is a thousand different shades of red and while you're usually rly composed and the one making luca shy, he has you wrapped around his finger

he leans down and places a kiss on your lips, but just as you're about to return the gesture, he pulls away quickly and gets off the bed

"luca?" you call out

"sorry, babe, i still gotta go!" he hangs his coat over his wide shoulders and heads for the door, having the audacity to leave you hanging

when you don't say anything, luca turns around and winks at you, "next time okay?"

Ike Eveland 🖋💙

for a bit of backstory, you were slightly scared to even execute the prank but since you barely do any on ike anyway, you wanted to see his reaction for once

so as soon as he was about to drive into the main road, you quickly hit send and anxiously await his reaction

you see his phone light up and he pauses to check for a second

it only takes him the next second to roll down the window and look at you

you flinch and without much thinking, you decide to just wave at him innocently

ike frowns at you, looking back between you and his phone, seemingly weighing his options at the moment

ike eveland was a straightforward man most times so to see him flustered over a decision like this was definitely something worth seeing every once and a while

you might get your ass kicked later but it's fine~

you giggle when ike visibly gets irritated and decides to park his car again, exiting once it was in the right spot

the door blasts open and there is ike with a face of mixed emotions, mainly being confusion and suspicion of your most recent text

"sorry, what's going on?" he asks, approaching you

you cock your head to the side, "what do you mean? and why are you back?"

ike raises an eyebrow at you.

he was perceptive like that. it was only a matter of time before he knows something is up

"you're hiding something from me, aren't you?" taking a seat across you, his golden eyes begin to search you up and down and you can't help but feel a bit uneasy

"i don't know what you mean, ike," you deny while smiling. "but seriously, did you forget something?"

he stares at you for a few seconds before letting out a small chuckle, leaning his head sideways. "you know what? i think i did. what was it...?"

ike puts a hand to his chin, then he looks at you with a bright light in his eyes. he comes forward and kisses your nose before standing up again for the door.

you sit there, baffled by the sudden gesture of affection.

ike laughs, "that. i forgot that. i'll be back soon, sweetheart."

then he leaves. as though he really did just forget to give you a goodbye kiss.

huh

you tap your nose where he pecked you and begin to contemplate whether that was considered a fail. he did give you a reaction, but as you kept acting like it was nothing, he... bought it?

quite underwhelming

your phone suddenly rings, which makes you jump as you had been too deep in thought. you went to pick it up and see it's from ike?

"he--"

"hi mom! sorry to bother you, but do you still have grandma's/grandpa's wedding ring?"

huh????

you don't say anything, your brain frazzled from what ike had just said. wait, he was meant to call his mother! you should tell him that--

"i've been thinking about it... you know, marrying y/n soon. and grandma/grandpa always liked to tell you to give their wedding ring to me one day. so, i wanted to know if i could pick it up from your house now."

HUH

"u-um, ike?" you stammer, holding the phone a bit too loosely as it was about to fall. you have so much to say but you don't know how to

was he going to propose to you soon? was that why he wanted to leave the house?????

"oh, älskling! sorry! you weren't supposed to hear that!" ike frantically says through the phone.

"well--ike--"

but then he begins to laugh uncontrollably, leaving you confused. it only clicks to you what is happening

"oh my fucking god, ike eveland! that was so not funny! and here i thought you were actually going to propose to me," you frown, heart deflating just a bit at the thought of it. though it meant to be a joke, you couldn't help but think it was a bit disappointing...

"but älskling, i do want to marry you someday," ike interjects, his voice dripping with honey. "and i promised my mother i'd use my grandmother's wedding ring too. it may not be today, sweetheart, but it will happen. i just wanted to get payback."

sweetest payback you've ever gotten...

Shu Yamino 🔮✨

when shu is about to walk towards the bus stop, he gets a text from you. a suspicious one at that.

you on the other hand were sneakily watching him from the window waiting for his reaction on the text

but what you don't expect is a call from the sorcerer, which makes you jump and panic because this was not one of the outcomes the internet had told you about

you hesitantly pick up, bringing the phone to your ear

"hello? shu?" you call out

"baby, is someone coming over?" he asks plainly.

this would've been the desired reaction from an average standing point, but shu definitely didn't sound worried or the least bit suspicious

"wh-what do you mean?" you stutter, laughing nervously

"the text you sent me...? why are you hiding this from me?" it's only then he begins to sound worried. he walks a bit to the side so he isn't in the way of anyone on the sidewalk. "you know you don't have to hide anything from me, right? as long as it's not any shady person off the street you're inviting over, i have no problem with it."

how could you pull a prank like this on someone like shu, huh?

he's known to be a very chill boyfriend so you figured that he probably wouldn't get jealous much

you also know that shu puts a huge trust in you

besides, he's got himself a handful of friends of both male and female, it wouldn't be fair to you if he restricted you from meeting your own friends

"o-oh, um, yeah... sure," you answer awkwardly.

"hm? you okay?"

you shake your head by reflex, but you remember you're on a call. "yeah, dandy. you go on ahead then shu. i'll see you later."

"now hold on, now i know something is up. babe, what are you not telling me?"

always sees right through you...

"it's nothing, shu. i promise," you laugh nervously, itching to find an excuse to just close the phone already. but seeing as shu is already hot on your tails, noticing how you get even more anxious by the second, there was no way he was gonna let you go so easily

he hums, "the fact you say it's nothing makes it look more like something."

see?

"did you accidentally set off a curse or something? come on, just spit it out so we can deal with it sooner, y/n."

it technically is a curse that you casted upon yourself really

when you don't answer for a few seconds, you hear shu starting to move again. through the window, you see him walking back towards the house.

"alright, i'm coming back. i can run that errand later," he says and before you could say anything else (not like it would help anyway), he closes the line

in a matter of minutes, shu is already opening the door and looking at you expectantly, "so? what's the curse?"

you sigh, "it's not anything like that, shu, i promise. it's just um..."

then you refuse to look him in the eye, more so because of how flustered you are.

footsteps head towards you and shu appears in your vision, crouched down so he could see your face. he smiles at you once, which makes you shy

"yeah?" he beckons you to continue.

"the text i sent was supposed to be a prank!" you say quickly, but shu catches your words just fine as he laughs gently. you curl a lip at him. "i told you it was nothing..."

"nah, it's pretty cute of you to even try a prank like that on me. was that supposed to make me panic or jealous?" he asks you

"i just wanted to know how'd you react is all... but yeah, most of the results suggest they'd be jealous," you bit your lip. shu raises an eyebrow at you and he suddenly comes closer by leaning up against you between your legs

with his nose just a few inches away from you, you involuntarily gulp

"and if i did get jealous, what would you have expected me to do, cutie?" he smirks, tapping your leg

"i-i don't know!" you deny

he laughs again, pressing a kiss to the edge of your lips. "you really are so cute. i can see why you wanted to try that prank. try a bit harder next time."

Masterlist!

#author chan’s delivery service 🧺#nijisanji en #luxiem #luxiem x reader #vox akuma #mysta rias #luca kaneshiro #ike eveland #shu yamino #vox akuma x reader #mysta rias x reader #luca kaneshiro x reader #ike eveland x reader #shu yamino x reader #akurylic #mystart #drawluca #ikenography #yaminoart

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shemarmooresfedora · 2 years

Text

A Beginner’s Guide to Trying

Summary: You call out Eddie for complaining about high school while also simultaneously not putting in enough effort needed to actually graduate. He asks to you teach him how to do the one thing he’s scared of…trying.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: angst with happy ending, season 4 episode 1 spoilers, swearing, one sexual reference

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist

It all started with a comment you made at lunch. To say you sat with the Hellfire Club at lunch would be a misrepresentation. Sure, you sat at their table but you didn’t sit with them. You didn’t really associate with anyone much in high school and their table was usually the last crowded so it was your designated lunch spot.

You would listen to their conversations while skimming through whatever book you had that day. Although you had not talked to any of them before, it was just like an unspoken agreement that you didn’t bother them and they didn’t bother you.

However, Eddie was in one of his self-righteous moods today, triggered by the absence of Lucas Sinclair from their game tonight. He had just finished ranting about the cliques and how he couldn’t wait to graduate this year.

You’re going to regret this, Y/N, you thought to yourself.

But still, you couldn’t stop yourself from opening your mouth.

“You know with how much you complain about high school, you don’t seem all that motivated to actually finish,” you bit into your apple, looking towards Eddie who had just sat back down.

The whole table stopped moving and stared at you in silence. No one ever spoke back to Eddie before, he was their leader. That was never questioned.

Eddie only glared at you with an expression you couldn’t quite make out.

“I’m just saying,” you continued, much to the horror of the rest of the Hellfire Club, “You keep talking about how all you need is to not blow Mrs. O’Donnell’s final and then you’ll get to graduate. Well, have you even tried to study for it? Or are you going to do what Eddie does best and pretend not to give a shit and then be mad when you have to repeat the whole cycle over again?”

You already dug your hole so you might as well go a little deeper, “I’m sorry if I offended you but you’re a smart guy, Eddie. I know that for a fact. And it frustrates me that you just won’t apply yourself even just a little bit so you can at least get the hell out of here. Or else, you’re going to be stuck in this loop until you eventually drop out because you either learn the shit and pass or you don’t. Mrs. O’Donnell can’t force you to care enough to pass. That’s on you.”

The bell signaling the end of lunch rang just as you finished your sentence. You collected your trash into your brown paper bag and grabbed your books, leaving the table to head to math.

“Does anyone know who that chick is?” you heard Eddie whisper to his friends and you smirked.

Maybe, just maybe you gave him the push he needed to finally get his diploma.

I guess the library was probably more suited for you to begin with. You didn’t have to worry about finishing a book in the cafeteria and having nothing to entertain you for the rest of the lunch period.

You did miss the background noise that the Hellfire Club provided though. Despite never actually interacting with them, all the conversations you had eavesdropped in on made you feel like they were sort of your friends in a weird way. Like you knew everything about them and they knew nothing about you. You were essentially a fly on the wall for the Hellfire Club.

However, you couldn’t bring yourself to return after the events of yesterday. It’s okay though, you supposed, only a month left of lunches before you graduated and you were content to spend those alone in the library.

You were particularly engrossed in a certain chapter of your book that you didn’t notice the chair across from you pull out as someone seated themselves down in it.

“Hey,” Eddie spoke.

You didn’t register it, your eyes just continued to glide across the page while you munched away on a baby carrot.

“Um hellooo,” Eddie waved his hand in your view, snapping you out of your trance.

You flinched a little in shock.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Eddie grinned slightly.

“I apologize too, I’m not used to having that many people come up and talk to me in here,” you placed your bookmark in your book to not lose your page.

“You weren’t at lunch,” Eddie spoke.

“Figured you had had enough of me,” you replied, gesturing to the empty library around you, “Can’t bother anyone in here,” you shrugged.

“You were never a bother,” Eddie returned, “In fact, it was nice to have at least one girl at the table. Makes us all feel a little less like freaks and losers.”

“Don’t call yourselves that,” you bristled.

“Why not? It’s true, isn’t it?”

“No, it is most definitely not and besides, I don’t like when people are mean to themselves. What is the point in hating the one person you are stuck with for the rest of your life?”

“Huh, never thought about it like that,” Eddie leaned back in his chair, deep in thought.

“So what are you doing in the library, Eddie?” you questioned.

“Looking for you,” he answered.

“And may I ask why?”

“I really want to graduate,” he explained, “Like for real. Because if I don’t this year, I doubt I’ll make it through next year so I’ll drop out and all of these years will have amounted to nothing.”

“Well, I’m rooting for you,” you replied.

“You seem very studious,” he looked at your large stack of books, “Is there any way you could help me study? Like give me tips or something? I’ve never really tried before,” he seemed embarrassed at this confession, “I don’t really have all that much money to spare but I could pay you a little in cash. Or drugs, I do have a lot of drugs.”

You chuckled a little, “You don’t have to pay me, Eddie. I would be more than happy to help you for free.”

“Really?”

“Well yeah,” you shrugged, “I thought I made it pretty clear to you how upset it made me that you were wasting your potential. I would be a total hypocrite to not want to help you when you’re actually taking the step to seek it out.”

“Thank you so much. It really means a lot to me,” Eddie replied.

“Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, you meet me in here for lunch and we’ll use that time to study for your final in Mrs. O’Donnell’s class. But you actually have to show up and try, Eddie, I’m more than willing to help but I’m certainly not going to drag you through this and force you to care.”

“Agreed, I want to learn,” Eddie nodded his head enthusiastically, “But I have one condition.”

“This is me helping you, Eddie. There is nothing for me to gain. What the hell could you have a condition about?” you asked, amused.

“You have to still sit with us at lunch on Tuesdays and Thursdays,” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes, secretly thrilled at the prospect of actually being missed by someone. Someone wanted you there, had purposefully invited you back.

“Come on,” he pressed, “I don’t like the thought of you being lonely in here all by yourself.”

“If you are lonely when you are alone, you are in bad company,” you retorted, glancing up at him to see if he got the reference, it was clear he didn’t, “Jean Paul Sartre,” you finished.

“Pleaseeeeee,” he begged, clasping his ring-covered fingers together.

“Fine,” you relented with a small smile, “I will return to my corner of the Hellfire Club table.”

“Yes!” Eddie broke out in a wide grin, “We desperately missed our honorary member.”

“I never talked and haven’t even been gone for a full lunch,” you rolled your eyes.

“And you were missed nonetheless. In fact,” Eddie dug through his backpack, “Here,” Eddie slid a crumpled pile of fabric across the table towards you, “Please accept this as a token of my appreciation.

You held it up, it was a Hellfire t-shirt. You couldn’t help the small smile that erupted across your face.

“I love it, thank you,” you tucked it into your bag, knowing you would probably wear it to sleep tonight.

“See you tomorrow at noon, Y/N,” he smiled, pushing out his chair and standing up.

Finally when he exited the library, it dawned on you. How did he know your name?

Eddie took your lessons seriously. So seriously in fact, that you were surprised when he managed to correct you one time.

He was doing the readings that had been assigned throughout the year that he hadn’t paid attention to until now. He was asking questions on things he didn’t understand and taking notes to review. You even caught him making flashcards with a multitude of brightly colored highlighters one time, though he will never admit it.

Somehow, he was still embarrassed by the very notion of trying. It just seemed against his nature.

You were reviewing key terms of last week’s class, he was almost fully caught up to where the rest of classmates were, when a random guy approached the table.

“Sup dude,” the guy greeted Eddie, giving him a classic guy handshake.

“What are you doing in the library?” Eddie asked him nervously.

“I have to check with the librarian if I can serve my detentions in here. It counts as two if you help reshelve the books instead of just sitting there,” he spoke, glancing down at all the books open on the table, “Are you studying, Munson?”

“What? No?” Eddie pushed his book away, “Come on, man, you know me.”

“So what are you doing here with her then?” the guy pressed.

Eddie gulped, glancing nervously between this dude and you. He had a choice to make, his ‘reputation’ or you.

He looked at you with sympathy in his eyes and you could tell the decision he was about to make.

“Just trying to tap that,” he put on a wavering fake smile to keep up his appearance.

You slammed your book shut and began packing up your things.

The dude laughed at your anger, “Sorry, Munson, I may have messed that one up for you. But don’t worry, party at my place this weekend, you can do much better than this.

You finished zipping up your bag and raced out of the library, beelining for the girls’ bathroom.

You pushed open the big stall’s door and fumbled to lock it with tears blurring your vision.

You threw your backpack to the floor and sat next to it on the ground, clutching your knees to your stomach and resting your head on top.

You don’t know how long you sat there for. At least past when the end of lunch bell rang. You just sat there, completely defeated, letting the tears flow out.

There was a knock on the stall door.

“Occupied,” you replied, thinking they might wait, you added, “For a while so just….go away please.”

“Y/N?”

You looked up towards the stall door in confusion.

“Nancy?” you replied.

Nancy was nice. You always had at least one class with her since freshman year. You’ve been paired together with her on a few projects and you’ve always gotten along well.

“Um, I was headed to the bathroom anyways but Eddie stopped me right outside and asked me to check on you. He can’t come in cause well, you know, but he wanted me to tell you that he’s really really sorry. It sounded genuine too, if that’s any consolation.”

“Thanks, Nancy,” you sniffled, “But I don’t have anything to say to him. Could you please tell him to leave on your way out?”

“Of course,” Nancy replied.

A few minutes later when she left the bathroom, you heard the hushed angry whispers of Nancy laying into Eddie.

“If what you’re telling me is true and she really has been in there crying for the past hour and a half, then I doubt when she is ready to leave, she wants to talk to you when she specifically told me to tell you to go. Whatever you did to her isn’t going to be helped by you pestering her. Now, go,” Nancy shooed him away.

You’d have to thank her later for that.

After about another 30 minutes, you finally stood and peered out the bathroom door. Luckily, Eddie was nowhere to be seen in the halls.

You quickly headed down the hall to the nurse’s office, feigning a stomach ache that had been keeping you in the bathroom since lunch. The nurse let you lay down for a little and then wrote you a pass to go home early after calling your parents.

It was a Friday so you wouldn’t have to worry about seeing Eddie until next week which was also your final week before graduation. Maybe, you should just skip that last week altogether. It’s not like anyone would miss you.

You stayed in bed all weekend with your ‘stomach ache’, even getting your parents to believe it was bad enough that you couldn’t go to school on Monday.

Eddie’s final was first period today so you doubted he would even show up the rest of the week. You hated that despite it all, you still wanted him to pass. You hated that he probably found a girl better than you at the party this past weekend just like the guy had claimed. And you hated most of all how you were still wearing your Hellfire T-shirt.

You must have fallen asleep because when you awoke to your mom gently knocking at your door, it was pitch black outside.

“Y/N, dear?”

“Yeah,” you answered.

“There’s someone here to see you,” she said it as if she didn’t even believe it herself.

You stood and opened your bedroom door, “Who?”

“A gentleman in a leather jacket with an…interesting hairstyle,” she stated.

“Tell him I don’t want to see him,” you crossed your arms.

“Honey, maybe just hear him out?” she proposed, “He’s holding a bouquet of flowers so big I’m scared his arms are going to fall off if you don’t get out there soon.”

“Fine,” you threw on some slippers and stomped down the stairs, not ready to face him but doing it regardless.

You pushed open the front porch door slowly to where Eddie was waiting. His eyes instantly snapped up to you.

“H-Hi,” he stuttered.

“How do you know where I live?” you immediately questioned.

“Um, I had to ask around but Henderson actually lives a few doors down so he knew,” Eddie replied nervously, looking down towards the ground and suddenly remembering he had flowers in his hand, “T-These are for you.”

He held the flowers out towards you but you made no attempt to reach for them.

“For what?”

“For everything,” he answered, “Mrs. O’Donnell told me she’d grade my final first and let me know since she knew how much was riding on it for me. She told me at lunch that I passed, my first ever A actually. I was ecstatic until I realized you weren’t there to tell.”

“Congrats,” you hummed.

“I’m really sorry for what happened on Friday, Y/N. I was a total asshole. You were helping me out of the kindness of your own heart and I threw it right back in your face. I don’t deserve you at all so please just take the flowers, it doesn’t mean you’ve accepted my apology or everything is okay because I still know I fucked up big time.”

“Fine,” you relented, accepting the comically large bouquet of flowers, “Thank you.”

“No, thank you. Seriously, Y/N. I was so afraid of actually admitting I was trying and still failing,” he confessed, “Because if I try my hardest and still fail, then I have to admit to myself that I’m truly a failure. But, you pushed me, you believed in me, you helped me. No one has ever done that for me before and I know for a fact, that I wouldn’t be graduating without you.”

“Yeah, but you did all the hard work. I never forced you to care or learn. That was all you, Eddie. I’m so proud of you,” you spoke softly.

You saw tears in Eddie’s eyes at the compliment you knew he had heard far too few times in his life.

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you but I fucked it all up,” he admitted in a hushed whisper.

“Eddie, you broke my heart and I’m still wearing a T-shirt you gave me. I’d say there’s still a chance for redemption.”

“Eddie Munson,” Principal Higgins announced on the microphone as Eddie made his way across the stage in his cap and gown.

Eddie had been saying every year for the past four years that when he graduated, he would look Principal Higgins dead in the eyes and flip him off. Every student knew it at that point from how much he repeated it in the cafeteria.

The crowd watched with bated breath as Eddie accepted his diploma and politely shook hands with the principal. Then, he turned towards the crowd, searching for and spotting you.

He held up his diploma for you to see with a beaming smile. You laughed while clapping and cheering as loud as you could, giving him a thumbs up. He formed his hands into a heart and blew you a kiss before exiting the stage.

You were profusely blushing as heads turned to look at you. But, you couldn’t care less. He was all yours, high school diploma and all.

any comments, asks, reblogs are greatly appreciated! seriously they make me smile so much <3

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fanfiction

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wordywarriorwrites · 11 months

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Calendar Girl - June

Series Masterlist: Calendar Girl Joel Miller Masterlist Author: @wordywarriorwrites Summary: The story of how Joel Miller falls in love again, told over a series of months. Series Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Language. Violence. Discussions of rape and consent. Alcohol consumption. Age-gap.

June

Nightmares plagued him.

Played non-stop in his head, like a macabre movie that presented the highlights of his worst fears, biggest mistakes, and deepest regrets. Sarah. Tess. Ellie. Their faces were featured all too frequently in an endless loop of horror and heartbreak. Most nights, he’d wake up in a cold sweat and shake it off.

On the nights he couldn’t? A copious amount of booze usually did the trick.

But then, the dreams of you – once a blissful respite – had also morphed into night terrors.

You – tortured or dead at the hands of a QZ guard, bandits, or Fireflies. You – beaten and raped by Wesley. You – bloodied, broken, and lifeless in his arms. In his nightmares, Joel failed to protect you, and the pervasive helplessness paralyzed him until he’d wake himself up screaming, often with Ellie at his bedside, looking as terrified as he felt.

Then, he started sleepwalking.

He’d come to one night in the foyer – propped up against the front door fully dressed, with no recollection of having gotten out of bed. Another night, Joel had woken up outside Ellie’s room, stood like a sentry just beyond the threshold. When he returned to consciousness on your back porch, with a stolen gun from the armory across his lap, he knew he’d fucked up. The idea that he’d jeopardized your safety, that he could’ve hurt you, Ellie, or some innocent bystander – that had kept him out of bed entirely.

Just past sunrise, on day three of no sleep. He’d been at the barn for a few hours already when his little brother decided to pester him.

“You’re wound tighter than an eight-day clock,” Tommy observed, head tilted curiously. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Joel grunted and kept on shoveling the shit pile in front of him, “M’fine.”

Tommy lifted his hat and ran a hand through his hair, “You sure? Haven’t seen you at mess in a couple weeks. Hank says you’ve been doin’ double-duty here, and I found out this morning you’ve signed up for night patrols?”

“Just makin’ myself useful,” he insisted.

“Look, Joel, I’m not trying to mother hen you,” Tommy replied as he shuffled his feet. “But you look like shit. And you don’t need more work – in fact, I think you need a break.”

Joel jerked his chin up, “You ain’t my keeper, Tommy. And you sure as hell ain’t the one to tell me what I do or don’t need. So, just mind your fuckin’ business, alright?”

Tommy snapped. He snapped back. They both shouted about forbidden topics and things best left unsaid. Harsh words turned into flying fists that attracted a crowd of onlookers. Joel had been running on fumes, but still managed to put his little brother flat on his ass more than once. Tommy – younger and a bit less sleep deprived – had always been a scrapper, and popped back up on his feet each time like a damn clown bop bag.

Joel reared his fist back, “Self-righteous-dickhead!”

Tommy ducked, “Stubborn-fuckin’-asshole!”

Blood flowed from Joel’s mouth and nose, and his knuckles screamed in protest with every hit that connected. A cut above Tommy’s eye trickled down his cheek, and even his sloppiest swings managed to land and hurt like hell. The number of spectators grew and got louder – as if the fight was for their entertainment and not something to be concerned about.

It ended when someone broke through the throng and sprayed them with ice-cold water from the very same hose Joel had used to fill the troughs not ten minutes before the brawl had started. Ellie had doused them, and after he and Tommy were separated, Joel noticed she hadn’t arrived alone. You, a few other town leaders, and a very harried Maria, with a yowling toddler on her hip, had flanked her. After the mob had quieted down and been dispersed, an explanation was demanded of them.

Tommy shrugged and shook his head, “Just a disagreement.”

“Brothers fight sometimes,” Joel volunteered just as nonchalantly.

Maria scoffed and stomped away. The other leaders followed. Tommy trailed after them. Ellie seemed both bemused and mollified, and after she turned off the hose, she gave a thumbs-up and declared she was headed back to bed.

You – all bleary-eyed, in your raggedy pajamas and unlaced boots, sporting some serious bedhead. You hadn’t said anything – just rubbed your eyes and motioned for him to follow you, and he did without hesitation or backtalk. It wasn’t until Joel was hunched over your kitchen table, a glass of preferred numbing juice in hand, that you finally spoke.

“Eat,” you grumbled as you placed a plateful of food down in front of him. “All of it.”

Chicken sandwich. Homemade chips. Fresh apple. It had all gone down like sandpaper, but it filled his too-long empty stomach, and he supposed that was good enough. When he finished, you put the plate in the sink and jerked your thumb toward the stairs. Joel limped along, with you right behind him, and you herded him into the bathroom for a long overdue shower. He emerged ten minutes later – stench-and-blood free, with a towel cinched tight around his waist. You muffled a yawn, pointed to a bedroom across the hall, and he knew by the state of the rumpled sheets that it was your bed he was being directed to get into.

You kicked off your boots. Closed the curtains. Shut the door. Climbed in and patted the space next to you, and if he’d been in any other state of mind, he would’ve balked. He also had plenty of reasons to be wary – his sour mood, the nightmares, his nakedness. You’d ensconced him in your home, and though he’d willingly and silently obeyed your every reasonable request, it somehow felt as if he’d been put in some sort of timeout.

Joel should’ve been insulted. Pissed off. But the room was quiet and dark, the pillows and blankets smelled like you, and when you tucked yourself up against his back and made him the little spoon, he just fucking caved and melted into the mattress.

“Don’t deserve you,” he slurred.

You kissed the nape of his neck, “Ya’ got that right.”

No chastisement. No questions. Just your soft voice and gentle touch. Joel closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he discovered he hadn’t moved an inch, and his stiff muscles indicated he’d gotten quite a bit of uninterrupted shuteye. He rolled onto his back and there you were – aglow in the lamplight and sat up against the headboard with your nose in a book.

“Time is it?” he rasped as he stretched.

You glanced up from the page, “Late.”

“Ellie?”

“At Maria and Tommy’s. She’ll stay with them while you stay here for a few days.”

Joel acknowledged your answer with a squeeze of your knee. He had no doubt that you’d run interference for him with Tommy, Maria, and the other town leaders. He also bet you’d cajoled an undoubtedly disagreeable Ellie into staying at their place simply for his peace of mind. He wanted to thank you for everything, but you spoke up before he could.

“So, I hear you’ve been dancing with the devil in the pale moonlight?”

He chuckled lowly and stared at the ceiling, “Yeah, somethin’ like that.”

You closed your book and placed your hand on his chest, “Look, I know you’re not one for talking about how you feel –”

“That’s for damn sure.”

“But short of tying you to the bed –”

“Ooo, kinky.”

You laughed and whacked him on the chest, “Seriously, Joel.”

He grunted. Threw an arm around your waist. You let out one of your infamous, long-suffering sighs and changed the subject. You asked him if he was hungry, and when Joel petulantly answered, “yeah,” you snorted, and offered to make him something.

He burrowed his face against your stomach, “Just wanna hold you.”

“Alright, ya’ big baby,” you muttered playfully.

You shifted, and Joel cracked an eye open to watch you place your book on the nightstand. Once you got comfortable, he rested his head on your chest, and soaked up the warmth of your touch as it moved along his head, neck, and shoulders. You both hummed at the exact, same time, and when you giggled, he grinned, and squeezed you tighter.

“You know you can tell me anything,” you whispered. “No pressure. No judgment.”

Joel nodded slightly, “I know.”

A stretch of contented silence. His uninjured hand, unable or unwilling to remain idle, moved all on its own. Delved beneath your shirt and cupped your breasts. Mapped your waist and hip. Spanned the plush flesh of your tummy. Roamed over the outside of your thigh. Strayed and squeezed and caressed aimlessly until you whimpered and breathed his name.

“Please,” you begged lowly. “Please, don’t stop this time.”

Joel propped himself up on his elbow and grasped your chin, “I won’t.”

He pressed his mouth to yours. Parted your lips with his own. Deepened the kiss and tugged your lower lip with his teeth. The threadbare elastic of your pajama pants was a godsend – it gave way easily to his impatience – and it wasn’t until he shoved them and your underwear past your knees that he slowed down and searched your eyes.

“Show me, sweetheart,” he murmured, mouth pressed tight to your ear. “Show me how you like to be touched.”

You let out a ragged breath. Guided his unworthy hand between your legs. Dipped his fingers into your arousal, and then, maneuvered them up to your clit. Soft and slow at first, and then, firm, until your hips moved in tandem. Joel was so fucking turned on by the sound of your pleasure that his cock dripped onto the sheet like a leaky faucet. You eventually directed his fingers down, and Joel watched as they disappeared inside of you.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned as you rocked yourself against his hand. “I could come right now just lookin’ at you. God damn.”

You moaned. Kicked your pants away. Spread your thighs wider and took his fingers to the second knuckle. A steady, in-and-out glide, and Joel followed your lead – swiped his thumb over your clit and brushed his fingertips against the soft, spongy spot deep inside of you that made all those soft noises you’d expelled morph into telling cries.

Joel licked into your slack mouth, “Feel good?”

You nodded frantically, “M’gonna come.”

“Look at me, sweetheart. Show me your eyes.”

Half-mast and pupils blown – you looked at him beneath your lashes as you fluttered and clenched. Joel encouraged you as you reached your peak. Soothed you as you came down from the high. He’d always found you breathtaking, but post-orgasm? You stunned him, and he stared at you in wonder as he slipped his fingers from you and sucked them into his mouth.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he growled.

You cursed. Pushed him onto his back. The taste of you lingered on his tongue, and he felt so fucking alive as he watched you peel your shirt over your head and straddle his waist.

“I want you, Joel,” you insisted.

Joel sat up and grasped the back of your neck, “You got me, sweetheart.”

You took him in hand. Guided him inside. Joel had fantasized endlessly about what it would be like to finally have you, just like this, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the reality of it.

His face, cradled in your hands. Your eyes, bright and focused on his. The roll-and-sway of your hips and the tight, wet clutch of your sex, and the way you twined your arms around him so possessively. You made love to him as if he weren’t some broken, old man, and that was it.

He was yours.

Chapter 08: June - Part 2

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fic #joel miller x f!reader #tlou fan fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #wordywarriorwrites #calendar girl #pedrostories

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ladysomething · 1 month

Note

Oh my goodness thank you so much for such a detailed answer and for entertaining my long, rambling mess of an ask. I appreciate you and I LOVE learning more about your writing process. It’s so interesting to me and it makes me appreciate the fic even more knowing how much work and care you and SaiyanWitcher put into every chapter. I will ask again at the end of WYGIG to find out what foreshadowing moments you loved the most, I promise! And in the meantime I am so excited to see what things I’m right about and what things are gonna surprise me! (Also I think I’m already wrong about the Kelly thing because I forgot in ch2 that Charles said she didn’t have a mating bite, so my new prediction is that Max was helping Kelly escape from a bad situation and that Max’s mum was the one he saw go through mate withdrawal, but don’t tell me if I’m right! I’m living for the suspense!!)

And tiny details like the vase thing are truly my favourite thing. Idk, they just are that special something that makes a fic go from amazing to like, god-tier for me. And now since you said you love when people pick up on tiny details, here’s some others I noticed that I loved, just in case me noticing them can also bring you some joy.

Before the auction, Mattia touches his own face when referring to Charles’ muzzle in ch1 and Max gestures at his face similarly in ch2 when trying to get permission from Charles to remove the muzzle (and then the contrast of Mattia’s cruelty and Max’s gentleness that follows those similar actions is !!!!! so good !!)

I loved how in ch1 when Charles is trying to mentally block out the auction, he focuses on pretending he’s back in his childhood apartment since that was a safe place for him, and then that’s the same place his dreamworld is based on when we see it in ch3!

Charles self soothing by stroking his teddy in ch2 and by stroking the sheets in his nest the same way in ch4 broke my heart a lil.

And Charles described Max’s scent as most collecting on petals of daffodils and jasmine when Max was trying to calm him down in ch3 and then max describes Charles’ scent as strawberries and jasmine in ch4. Love the subtle overlap, those boys are meant to be (even if it’s a Rough Start)!!!

This ask is now longer than my first outrageously long ask, I am so so sorry. And I don’t even have a question so def don’t feel obligated to reply to this one LOL. But I have so much love for your writing and so appreciate your willingness to answer my (and everyone else’s) questions about your writing and this story!!

anon, I need you to understand that I've had a really difficult week writing WYGIG. I know exactly what has to to happen, and I'm so excited for the next chapter, and yet I am struggling to get words down on the paper.

Your previous ask, and now this one, are so immeasurably delightful to me and they are the exact type of thing I needed to hear. I don't know if you'll ever be able to understand just how meaningful the things you've said are.

I honestly don't think I even have the words to thank you for your extremely kind and thoughtful asks, so instead I'm giving you what is an extremely meagre offering in return: a snippet from chapter 5.

It's below the cut, for anybody who doesn't want the spoilers.

“Is this your Dreyma Ver-öld?”

Charles’ fingers slip on the keys, discordant noise filling the air. He whips around on the seat, horror filling him as he sees Max standing in the middle of the living room, dripping water everywhere and looking around curiously.

“You,” Charles seethes. “What are you doing here?”

But he already knows the answer, of course. Max claimed him, so just like every other part of his life, Max gets access to this, too. At least he seems to have woken up outside, where it’s still pouring rain. At least there are small justices.

“Mine doesn’t look like this,” Max says, ignoring the question entirely.

Charles wouldn’t have any idea what Max’s Dream World might look like. He’ll never get to see it, because to see it he’d have to claim Max back. No, instead, Charles is doomed to a life giving everything to Max and getting nothing in return.

“Was this your home?”

Charles grits his teeth and turns back around to his piano, stubbornly refusing to answer.

“What was the shed outside?” Max asks a few moments later. “I tried to go in, but—”

“You can’t go in there,” Charles snaps, shoulders hunched. He doesn’t care how confrontational he sounds—he’d rather die than let Max near the memories locked in that shed.

#anon ask #lestappen fic #lestappen #where you go i go

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thehangeddemon · 28 days

Text

Shards, Part II || Charleson & Leslie || July, 2023

Mason/Leslie: The wall between their minds was thin at best, but still present. Charles had been given a glimpse, but deserved peace. Just this half, this terrible half would be hidden, not his entirety. Years of open telepathy had practiced Mason's skill in dividing himself for this very reason. It was all for Charles, and it was better than barring the connection completely.

Leslie had taken to text between entertaining children and washing the piling mess in the kitchen. There was always something to do, but he was trying. Sending updates with dinner, dessert, what he was doing and what he planned to do. Little innocent details to keep Tristan in the loop, waiting for Charles to return downstairs.

Charles: For a moment, he'd carved out a sliver of peace. Nightmares still threatened at the fringes of his mind, but with the familiar heat and scent of his husband so close, Charles managed to slip into a doze.

Light though it was, his sleep was blessedly dreamless. He might have made it through the night, if the drugs he'd taken had not worn off. He shifted, and pain lanced up his side, spurring from sleep. He let out a ragged gasp and sat up.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," he whispered, fearing he might have disturbed Mason's rest.

Mason: Mason remained in a state of twilight, eyes closed, breathing deep and steady. All for one man. His chest belonged to him. His arm around his husband's shoulders, kept safe, if not for reality creeping in.

"Baby, don't do that." He pressed a kiss into his temple and sighed.

"Either I'm gettin' ya medicine or I'm findin' that witch." He was simply too tired to bother with a name.

Charles: "I just didn't mean to wake you." If he'd already done so, there was really no need to whisper. Still, he kept his voice low. The peace was fragile.

"Let's not bother Leslie." He'd done so much already, and as dearly as Charles loved him, that bone mending had been... difficult. Better to let his ribs heal the old-fashioned way.

"I'll call for Hank to bring something. Please stay." For Mason's sake, as much as his own.

Mason: Mason cracked his eyes open, breathing deep and slow but having nowhere for his disapproval to go. He didn't want to hear his husband scream again, but whatever horrors the witch gave, peace followed.

But the part of his mind open to his beloved knew that path was now closed.

"Hurry back."

Charles: He wasn't going anywhere. Not really. He shifted gingerly to the edge of the bed, masking a wince and a groan as he moved. No sense in causing undue worry. Mason hadn't slept for nearly long enough.

His mind brushed Hank's cautiously at first, but the beast of a mutant was just as on edge as everyone else he loved, it seemed. A silent request, one that was answered in the affirmative. He waited from his perch on the mattress until the soft knock sounded.

He inhaled deeply as he rose. It was the only sound he'd allow himself, even as he shuffled his way to the door. He opened it just a crack, thanking Hank in low tones before shutting it with a click.

He wanted to wash down the little white pill with a glass of scotch. But that was a terrible idea, and the thought of walking all the way to his study put it fully to rest. He swallowed it dry and eased back onto the mattress.

Mason: Mason was sitting up with his back to the headboard by the time Charles returned. Hands on his thighs, waiting patiently to invite him back to the warmth of his chest. He would lay however he was required for the telepath to rest.

Apologizing was a waste of words at this point. The obvious was there out in the open. I should have been there. I should have found you sooner. I should have done more. But logic was soap, and guilt ink on his skin.

"Want me t'lay back?"

Charles: "You're supposed to be asleep." Not a scolding. There simply wasn't enough heat behind it. He was too tired, and Mason was a beacon in the dark, despite his position.

"Please," he agreed, inching slowly and carefully toward that warmth.

Mason: Then back he would go. As flat as Charles desired. Little different than fluffing a pillow. Much as Lawrence had tended to him hours ago, his arm was open, and warm around his shoulders. Same love language, same soul.

"Leslie's lookin' for Kurt," he mumbled.

Charles: He sank against him. It was nearly as soothing as sinking into a hot bath. Only thing better would be a bath together. It was an appealing thought, but he was just so drained.

"Yeah? Does he need to go home?" It would make sense. Tristan must have been worried sick. Guilt tugged at him to consider it. He needed to find some way to thank his little rescue team, and those closest to them. Something to think about later. Too much for his head to wrap around, now.

Mason: His mouth opened, letting an exhale escape between his lips. He wanted - no, he wouldn't. Saying what he had felt would only sour the carefully constructed atmosphere.

"He's found him. Rec room." He turned his head, burying his nose in dark tresses.

"He'll be up to say goodbye in a minute."

Charles: "All right." Charles had no intention to move. His bad manners would have to be forgiven. He pressed his lips to Mason's chest.

"What is it?" Because of course he hadn't missed that. "What's on your mind? Talk to me."

Mason: "It's not for me t'say, now is it?" It wasn't his thoughts, but the very subject now making his way upstairs.

Charles: Charles would wait for Leslie's knock as well, but he'd make no effort to leave the bed, only sit up enough to look at the door.

"Come in."

Leslie: The door opened with a crack. Strawberry blond hair sticking through, a blond five o'clock shadow finally making an appearance.

"Hey."

Charles: "Hey." He managed a small smile, for Leslie's benefit. He must have been as tired as any of them. "Heading home?"

Leslie: "Yeah. Couldn't go without saying goodbye. You need anything?"

Charles: "Not at all. Thank you so much, Les. For absolutely everything. Go home and get some rest. Apologize to Tristan for me?"

Mason/Leslie: "Only one who needs to apologize is me. Don't start - "

"We're workin' on it. Go home."

At least there they could agree. With a wave of his hand, the door closed behind him with a click.

Charles: He'd had his mouth open to offer a retort when he was interrupted. He was still too tired to scold, but it was a near thing.

"Bye! I'll ring you tomorrow."

He fell back against Mason's chest with a huff and a wince. Never mind. He could scold a little bit.

"You should have let me finish. He dropped everything for us. He shouldn't feel the least bit guilty."

Mason: "Mhm." This was a non-argument simply because Mason had his eyes closed, his muscles relaxed, and his head - he was attempting to empty it. It wasn't an argument because he didn't care about the witch enough to defend him. He just wanted Charles to rest.

"Ya want Gina brought here?"

Charles: Now he definitely didn't have the energy to scold any more. He pressed his cheek to that warm chest and sighed.

"I... why? I'm not opposed, or anything. I just don't know why she'd want to be here."

Mason: "'Cause Lawr won't shut the hell up about her, n'it'll be my turn, next."

It was an uncomfortable subject to broach, be it now or next week, but Lawrence held a prediction in his grasp, and Mason had an inkling of its accuracy.

Best to know now, so Lawrence could prepare his family for visits.

Charles: That felt... unfair. Gina was a lovely woman, but she hadn't been taken. Hadn't been... still too fresh. Too much. He couldn't fathom Mason being out of reach for an hour, let alone days at a time. He could feel his pulse begin to race at the thought, ridiculous tears burning his eyes. What was wrong with him?

He shut his eyes before they could fall and took a steadying breath. "I'm... That's fine. She can come. I don't... It's fine."

Mason: That was all they needed. All Mason was willing to tolerate. He couldn't squeeze his husband as tightly as he'd prefer, but he could cradle him. For now, until he was strong enough to sleep on his chest without wincing, as he was meant to.

"It's fine. It's fine," soothed the demon.

Charles: Even with that gentle soothing, it took a while for his breathing to slow, and his heart to follow. His hands eventually stopped their trembling. He still felt like weeping, but he suppressed the urge. If he started, he didn't think he'd be able to stop. Hadn't he cried enough in the morgue?

Oh. Not the place he needed to revisit. He forced it away. Forced away everything but the steady rise and fall of his husband's chest.

"I'm sorry."

Mason: He could tell him again to stop. He didn't need an apology. He didn't want one, and Charles didn't deserve the guilt. But, there were times, he knew, when you just needed to say it. The catharsis outweighed the logic.

The record player across the room came to life. Chopin. Nocturnes. The record scratched to life. He kissed his husband's hair.

"Quiet."

Charles: There really weren't words to describe the depth of his love. It could only be felt.

The music soothed his frayed nerves. Blocked out the worst of the dark thoughts.

He did cry, then. A raw purge of everything he'd held onto since waking. His tears were blessedly silent. They might have gone unnoticed, if not for the sheer volume of them, and the way they shook his battered frame.

He wept until there was nothing left but Mason, and the gentle music. He was completely spent. He could probably sleep for three days.

#Shards chapter #masonatlas #askprofessorx #leslieeissott

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alessiamalfoyzabini · 1 month

Text

Dark Moon | Chapter Eight

Pairing | yandere!Jimin x Reader

Word Count | 3k

Warnings | +18, yandere themes, smut noncon, teasing, forced nudity, humiliation, glove returns, insults, slapping, fingering, tears, forced pleasure, finger licking, rough penetration, vaginal sex, orgasm denial, contraceptive use, Jimin becomes a lust demon, MC loses patience and explodes, triggering content, this is not for minors

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.

And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.

That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.

He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.

➢ Author's Note | Here is the new chapter of Dark Moon ❤️ Let me know what you think, it is always a joy for me to know if you like the story 🥰

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @dragons-flare, @m00njinnie, @seokjins-luigi, @pjmsneverland, @jimincrystal, @ajkwww, @ungodlyjoon, @hecateslittlewitchling, @namjoonsbuspass, @darkuni63, @xicanacorpse

Taglist is open!

Chapter List - Previous - Next

He passed the hallway that divided them with a light step, darkness engulfing the house in deadly silence, he kept thinking of her as a chill slid down his spine, he thought of her small, soft body, his to break in any way.

When he reached the bedroom, the doorknob lowered under the pressure of his fingers, opened without making a squeak. Nothing in that house seemed willing to help the young woman.

He inhaled into the air the sweet scent of woman there, it was floral and honeyed, something that made a low, deep growl vibrate in his chest.

Like a predator he reached for his prey as silently as possible, moving through the darkness, his friend, this reminded him of the night of the abduction, just as then he watched her sleeping blissfully in a bed that did not belong to her, illuminated by the dim light of the street lamps filtering through the ajar window, her face softly stretched in an angelic expression angered the man, who contrary to his emotional state felt his cock harden.

He bit his lower lip as he climbed onto the bed he had personally chosen for her; he had taken care of every little detail and she should have simply thanked him.

When Y/N lifted his heavy eyelids in the darkness of the room he knew immediately that something was wrong. She felt foreign moisture on her neck, but it took her a few seconds longer to connect well and understand the actual situation.

Jimin broke away from the delicate line of her neck to imprison her in his lust and resentment-laden eyes, with a small, shrill cry she tried to evade the man, who in response imprisoned her in his strong arms.

"Be quiet," he hissed harshly, watching the young woman's chest heave at a terrified, dizzying pace, reminded him of a pawing mare, and with a grin unfastened the first button of her pajamas from one of the buttonholes.

"What are you going to do?" she swallowed breathlessly, feeling the chill night air at every flap of skin let loose from the constriction of the warm fabric.

"I'm going to take what's mine," he murmured, grasping between his teeth a pinkish, delicate pearl that soon turned scarlet following a bite that made her scream in pain; she wriggled in his arms, trying to escape, and Jimin buried, if possible, even more his head between the woman's breasts, letting his warm, delicate tongue soothe those suffocating sensations, repeatedly striking the offended, stiff tip, he sucked the rest of the soft skin insistently, causing small, stinging bruises to surface, the young woman looked up at the ceiling of her room in shock, everything was happening so quickly that the anxiety in her chest erupted into yet another panic attack.

Y/N grabbed him by the shoulders, putting force to push him away, and her nails penetrated the man's beautiful skin, which far from contentedly pulled away from the girl's now battered breasts.

His black eyes were dipped in fire and soon Y/N realized his fury, at first she hadn't noticed anything, too caught up in her own personal despondency, but now she could clearly see the torment encased in the irises of the man who towered over her like a statue of pure marble, a slap torn the skin of her lower lip, leaving her breathless.

With his jaw tensed Jimin nailed his hips to the girl's, making her aware of his complete nakedness, the woman lost a beat, at which point she burst into tears, remembering when the man had forced her to take him in her mouth, she didn't think it would happen again so soon, God ... she had even gotten used to the idea of being out of the Dark Moon's business.

As if Jimin had read her mind, a lazy smile stretched across his angelic features.

"I took you away from that place because I didn't want other men to dump their cum into you," he said grabbing her by the chin in a grip that had nothing gentle about it at all, "You should thank me, I saved you from a life as a whore that would have made you satisfy the cravings and perversions of all those pigs you would meet."

Y/N would have liked to reply that he was the one who had brought her there, that she had absolutely nothing to thank him for, but Jimin's lips pounced on hers, plugging her mouth before she could say anything that would surely only bring more trouble for her.

The kiss was violent and full of possession, Jimin's tongue entwined with hers in a voracious struggle, heedless of the blood staining her broken lower lip, he took care to taste her sweet flavor as he slowly slid the covers off her body.

Then an idea tickled his mind, releasing the young woman from his ravenous mouth, causing her to momentarily regain air.

"Get undressed," he ordered peremptorily, moving away to make himself comfortable between the blankets.

Y/N watched frozen as the male's actions shamelessly displayed the stiffened length of his cock; it was colored a vivid shade of pink, the turgid tip wet with clear liquid was screaming with need, but Jimin did not even try to touch himself, his dark, wicked irises were on her, waiting.

"Did you hear me?"

Y/N pondered the situation well, and no matter how hard she looked for a way out, it simply did not exist.

If she had tried to escape, he would have caught her and beaten her.

If she had hit him, it probably still would have ended with her getting beaten.

With her heart in her throat she unbuttoned what was left of the buttons of her pajamas, she felt dirty, she was not even fighting for her dignity.

She ended up lowering her shorts as well, remaining only in her clear briefs, and Jimin drank in with his eyes every drop of the image that came before him. He knew she was beautiful, even if annoying, there was a goddess in front of him and a more intense vibration of his cock made him nod in agreement in his mind, now she was simply perfect, because now she belonged to him.

The thought of sharing her had dampened his enthusiasm somewhat, but now he would no longer have to worry about it.

That slut would only welcome his cum where, when, and as much as he wanted it.

"Now turn around and make like the bitches in heat," he said softly, humiliating the woman even more, who clamped her mouth in a hard line, making her tear-filled eyes sparkle, "I won't repeat myself, Y/N. Do what I just told you," he used her name to emphasize the threat in his voice. Jimin was a man of his word, she knew it well.

Swallowing the knot of tears, the woman did as she was told, showing the man the full view of her buttocks still covered by her panties, Jimin hummed contentedly following the line of her pussy that seemed to seduce and call to him, he noticed only then a slight wet spot at the height of her slit, an increasingly sadistic and amused grin spread across his face.

"Wait for me here without moving, understand? I'll be back soon," he intimated to her, leaving the room heedless of his cock screaming at him to take her right away.

Y/N stared at the headboard of the bed with a look lost in nothingness, feeling ashamed of the immoral position she had been forced to, it made her feel if possible even more naked, and she was also getting tired, her wrists and knees that supported her weight were going numb, she was on the verge of collapsing when Jimin returned, she felt his presence not because he announced it, but because by now her body shivered whenever he was around.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, sweetheart," he chuckled, placing himself behind her intentionally, "I just want to make sure I won't hurt a virgin pussy," he whispered in her ear, Y/N had only time to frown, because next Jimin slipped her panties off just enough to slip two fingers directly through the girl's tight, moist slit, who let out a cry at the painful intrusion, only then did she notice something strange, something that made her chest flare with humiliation.

Jimin's hand was wrapped in a leather glove, that leather glove.

The boy caressed her innermost walls, not bothering to be gentle, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut at the cruel invasion, moaning breathlessly at the glove rubbing into her in a rough and crude way, Jimin pushed his fingers deeper, against a spot that made her jerk in surprise, the man at that point added a third finger, delighted by the half moans that the woman could not block between her teeth, devastated by her body feeling pleasure against her will.

Y/N feared this might happen, but she did not imagine it would happen so soon, somehow he had won, again.

The man's hand increased the pace, touching more and more sensitive and hot spots, the girl's hips began to come to him trembling and shy, at which point he stopped, pulling out his three fingers completely drenched in her pearly essence. He watched in satisfaction as that result, pride filled his chest, and a low laugh vibrated through the room.

"You're not a virgin, that certainly hasn't changed," he began, kneeling down to get a better look at her trembling state of shock and stolen pleasure, "But honey, you're so wet now, the first time wasn't like this," he mortified her, leaving a thick lick along her soaked slit, reaching the swollen clitoris that until then had remained untouched and throbbing, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut despondently in the throes of an enjoyment she should not have experienced, Jimin pulled away only to bring proof of his words to her eyes, the glove glistening with her stringy essence.

"Lick," the man ordered, surprising her once again, "Good bitches lick everything until they clean up their mess," he said cruelly, and Y/N did so.

She brought his fingers to her mouth and licked her own essence under Jimin's order, who touched her soft tongue pushing up to her throat. The woman choked for air until the boy released her to put himself back behind her.

He didn't even give her time to get used to the idea, he slid the tip of his cock against her perky, receptive clitoris: once, twice, three times, Jimin lost count of how many times he unnerved the girl before positioning himself at her entrance and sliding inside her.

The pleasure for the man was immediate, he clawed her hard by the hips before thrusting fiercely inside her, Y/N screamed in vain, despite the soggy, throbbing walls the size and thrusts of Jimin's cock were simply too much to bear, she had never had to deal with anything like this, the sensitive tip met the entrance of her cervix and the girl stiffened at the foreign sensation, contracting the walls and squeezing Jimin's cock in such a way that soon had the room filled with the boy's moans and grunts.

"Holy-! You squeeze me so good!" he gasped without realizing it, now lost and intoxicated, peering his length in and out drenched with both of their arousal, his balls slapped the woman's clitoris, she collapsed with her face on the pillows, which muffled her desperate moans, she felt pain, but also a strange pleasure in her belly, which along with the shiny, stimulated pearl between her legs tried to make her reach for something, something that never came.

Jimin got off her just in time, continuing to masturbate with his gloved hand, squeezing the red tip until he discharged his cum between the girl's quivering buttocks.

Y/N finally fell onto the bed, exhausted and unsatisfied.

She had never been able to feel pleasure, she thought with a knot in her throat, she also knew why, and she still could not believe that Jimin had been able to make her go that far, even if in the end that thing had not exploded the way her body had desired.

For his part, Jimin was aware that between the two of them only he had orgasmed.

He had left earlier on purpose.

It was still early for her to experience that kind of pleasure with him; she had to earn it.

That did not, however, prohibit him from opening the lips that protected her now scarlet and abused slit, noticing that the semen poured onto her buttocks was dripping onto her pussy, the erotic sight made him sigh, before he left a kiss on her contracted clitoris that caused her to shudder.

"I've told you before, I could lick your pussy if you behave, Y/N..." he murmured an inch from her, "I could make you scream with pleasure, not pain, if only you'd let me," he sighed pulling away from her, the now-quiet demons were asking for rest, Jimin looked at the girl's still inert body, then left her there alone, returning to his bedroom.

The next morning Y/N found a white box on her bedside table with a note next to it and a glass of water.

'Take it before breakfast, prevention is better than cure.'

The woman frowned, reading the brand name on the box and soon realized what it was. It was a morning-after pill.

She moved to get up from the bed, but a tremendous twinge of pain between her legs made her breath catch, the memory of Jimin's wild thrusts was still vivid and painful in her, pulling up with her nose she strained to take the water and the pill, she would not allow such an accident with that monster, at least he had been quite prescient in that case.

Y/N's routine changed drastically for the worse from then on, if during the day she had a semblance of peace, at night when Jimin came home it was hell, he always waited for her to finish dinner and go to sleep to attack.

He lived in anxiety every night, he didn't know it, but she had become the young man's new addiction, drowning in her body helped him escape from his disgusting memories, helped him not to think, and more than once she had been on the verge of fainting under his desperate thrusts, she ached all over and the man didn't seem to care at all.

He fed lustfully on her.

"I hate you! I hate you!" she shrieked one evening with contempt-infused eyes in his direction, it had been yet another stressful day at work for Jimin, the only thing he wanted was to find himself in bed with her, his new cure and damnation.

He had found her standing there cooking for herself, Jimin never ate at home and even if he had, he would never have eaten anything prepared by her, he could not have known what might be in that food and he wanted to avoid possible poisoning from his recalcitrant bedmate.

He had not held back, he had reached behind her heedless of her terrified gasp, attaching himself to her neck like a suction cup as he reached down with his hands to her hot intimacy, for Y/N was too much.

She could take it no more, she was in pain, and the only thing she was getting from all that fucking was just a strange state of upset and dissatisfaction, as well as now devastating physical pain.

She threw everything she was using up in the air only to turn to the boy and slap him full in the face, the small fingers matched perfectly with the soft skin that turned scarlet in seconds, she continued to hit him on the chest with fists and more slaps.

"You're fucking killing me!" she cried hysterically, Jimin cashed in each blow with icy, marble eyes, let her vent without a word, "I'm going crazy! Why are you doing this to me!"

The girl collapsed to the ground, exhausted, the adrenaline that had pervaded her body leading her to such an outburst now gone, now she was alone, tremendously alone with her tormentor.

She lifted her weary eyes to Jimin, who touched his injured cheek to his face slowly, licking the split and bleeding corner of his mouth.

Y/N marveled at her own strength, her hands burning and throbbing feverishly, she closed them into fists, ready to suffer the fury of man.

The latter knelt in front of her, grabbed her chin firmly and forced her to look at him. Y/N already imagined what would happen.

"What's the matter?" he asked, leaving her stunned, "Is it because I won't let you cum or because your pussy is a little sore?"

"A little?" shocked the woman, "You don't care about me, you just want to use me as a sack for your cum and then throw me away!"

Jimin nodded unable to do anything else, strangely even seemed sympathetic, then said something out of the blue that shocked both of them.

"I'm sorry."

With a strange expression on his face, he got up and disappeared into his bedroom before those words could penetrate deeper into both of them, Y/N observed the place left empty by the boy with a vacant look. Those simple apologies could not belong to Park Jimin. He never apologized; in fact, it was as if he was allowed to do whatever he most craved, so why apologize?

For this very reason she remained vigilant all night, staying awake until the first light of dawn. But Jimin did not show up.

He had not looked for her, neither the next day nor the next.

It was as if Jimin had forgotten about her, but Y/N could not know how wrong she was.

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okthatsgreat · 11 months

Note

that reblog about asking random questions about fics..... hmmmm. ive been curious for a while now - what's your thought process behind opddmh? any particular theme you've had fun exploring, or a potential overarching idea? i love hearing people explain the intricacies of their writing processes

ohhhhh my god oh my god. you have unleashed something within me ohhhhh my god. something cringe is awakening something very cringe is happening to me right now

referring to this post, talking about this fic :]

(im gonna put all of this under read more for the people that dont want to read this LMAO)

OKAY. TIME TO GET SO STUPID. IM SO SORRY FOR BEING LIKE THIS

at the core of this fic is trauma-- it's a story about emerging from indescribable pain and horror, only to walk into a world that treats you as a spectacle and your pain as entertainment. so much of opddmh's themes come from trauma, as every character's pov deals with it in distinct ways, none of which are particularly healthy LMAO. going into each characters pov, my thought process is always concerning how they would react to the situation in front of them, but always keeping that trauma over them as another deciding (often overpowering) factor. makoto at his core is still a caring man, but he has been so deprived by the company that has kept him there for so long that his natural response to unpleasant emotions or thoughts is to bury it in sake of putting on a show. mikan has always been very timid and regretful, but now many of her actions are sincerely doubted as being selfish or secretly evil, a temperament only aggravated by her status as blackened. akane's desire to "be strong" has only worsened to an extreme degree, as her first instinct is to drop anybody that could possibly remind her of weakness or the killing game.

these are killing game participants who are no longer the children they were when all of this started, people who did not sign up for this but have to keep going anyways-- and i LOVE exploring the implication of that postgame it is like a drug to me. theyve gone through unimaginable horror, most of them dont have families they can return to, and everybody in the world knows them as a beloved tv character. the only way for them to survive is to adapt, a strategy that not all of them have mastered. makoto, whose title as ultimate hope has been watered down sooooo so much, is the POSTER child (literally) for adapting, while characters like akane have still been significantly silenced by danganronpa but are unable to adapt entirely. it was important to me that i had povs which were different yet cohesive, and were able to convey the range of survival that these older participants have :] and this includes the secret fifth pov that hasnt been introduced yet >:)

these are no longer people in the public's eyes as much as they are entertainers (which by the way, i love writing this aspect of postgame dr lololol the PERFORMANCE of it all). my friend lily made such a good comment about it at one point and i dont remember her exact words but it was something along the lines of "the audience doesn't want the performer, they want the performance" which is soo true of this universe in particular. so when i write these different people i like to keep in mind the person they are and they person they present themselves as. so many of the older participants are so jaded its insane

but then theres v3!! there are NEW kids here. trauma is so important as a theme when it comes to how these characters interact with each other, and ESPECIALLY how the older characters are able to see themselves in the younger ones. a lot of the character dynamics were chosen deliberately so that the v3 kids mirror the older participants!!!!!!!!!!!!! v3 hasn't been desensitised just yet, they haven't lost touch with their anger and sadness and fear like a lot of the older participants have. i find it important while writing to remember how NEW these kids are, especially when it comes to writing people like miu, who isn't ready to give in to danganronpa conformity just yet and is trying her hardest to be better (or at the very least, not the same miu iruma, ultimate inventor that everybody watched on their television screens). and then of course you have characters like angie and rantaro, who are DEEEEEEEEP in denial and unable to properly move out of that first stage of grief just yet lmao. they are fortunate(????) enough that the journey they go through is a lot more private than some of the other characters can say theirs were. a lot of the time i write about the newer v3 participants i make an effort to refer to them as young or as children/teens because they Are. theyre so Young and it definitely effects how they handle themselves !!!

so much of this fic is about trauma but so much of it is finding strength in others as well, even if its moving slowly towards it lol. it's important to me that there is hope in the fic, that even though it feels like they are very isolated at the moment they arent entirely alone. things get worse before they get better but they do get better and i wanted there to be peace in the relationships they build with each other

also fun fact this story was originally a one shot where miu jumps into makotos car they chat and then he drops her back where she came from lol! would have really cut this story short!

n e ways thank you anonymous i love you <3 so so sorry for being so serious about my own fic ghfdjhgsdjhgkfdjhgdksghfskjghdj </3

#THANK YOUUUUUUU THANK YOU!!!!!#IM SO SORRY FOR RAMBLING!#i have got to calm down this is a danganronpa fic.#need to practice restraint #ask lee #opddmh #anonymous

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wednesdaysgun · 1 year

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stalkers and letters (wednesday x tyler)

To.. you know who you are. I don’t feel need to spell it out- figuratively or literally. Because of course you’re going to know I wrote this all for you. Are you aware of the dent in the side of my skull you’ve left me with? Are you aware of how often your voice collides with my train of thought before running it off the the tracks with the whisper of “come back come back come back come back come

DING. Thank you, whatever Demon heard her sanity slipping from so far up. Clearly she was reeling in her own thoughts and the Deity decided they were sick of it. God knows she was. This behaviour was beneath her, almost sickening to her stomach. Sitting up a little straighter in the squeaky chair, she readjusted the typewriter and continued. Not before looking around the room to herself. Her peripheral vision was never to be trusted, especially given the fact she was truly loosing her mind. Let alone his presence, it never stopped weighing on her. Playing tricks, as he always did.,

My point is, you know why I’m writing this. You feel this burning in your stomach the way I do, don’t you? This is no trap, before you begin to plot your averagely mediocre revenge you won’t carry through with. I mean it, about both of those topics. There is a bond that has been forged, and it disgusts me and intrigues me at the same time. Like the most beautiful blade stabbing through a jugular before it can be properly awed over.

She references the bond in question as her teeth catch her lower lip, until it punctures and slowly drips blood down her chin. It does not phase her, she thinks she can feel it dry on the pale skin in stark contrast. Maybe the scent of it will bring him closer. Out damned spot. How did he look nowadays? Was he more monster than human? The thought sends a pleasant chill down her spine. As much as Tyler was sweet, that was all he had to offer. Wednesday has never been one for a sweet tooth. Not to sound interested in the monster only, but the mixture of these two very separate entities created a specimen that Wednesday couldn’t help but obsess over. And that, is truly scary. She cannot stop thinking.

She wants to spectate his darkest horrors. Watch him sleep. See his eyes as he awakes and looks upon her, looking up to her. She assumes through second-hand knowledge on such species similar, that when forced out of a domestic environment that a Hyde should typically reign in control of the host. Nature v Nurture, in some form. And looking at facts, nobody would willingly harbour such a beast. No friends in Jericho, or Nevermore. Not even his father would want to see his face. So why does she ponder on it so often? She should despise it, feel ill at the thought of him dripping with blood with that look in his eye. The twitch in his typically never-faulting smirk. She wishes she could pretend it didn’t send a lurch of something through her veins. She pushes on, refusing to name the rush.

I feel you pulling me. I hate to say it as much as you will hate to hear it but, I cannot be near you. Will not be near you, let alone return your clear displays of affection. By the way, I would appreciate it you returned the belongings you borrowed.

Okay, even Wednesday was quick to admit that stalking was never a good display of affection. It’s a bad trait even for her to admire. She believes he wears “I would kill or be killed for you, in a second’s hesitation.” very, very well. The thought of him, sitting all alone, watching her intently as his only form of entertainment was a good enough punishment, and sated whatever she still clearly felt for him. Knowing she was still on his mind somehow made her feel more powerful. He would praise her, whether she allowed it or not. But then he begun pushing. Entering her room as she attended class, smelling things, putting his Hyde-y claws all over her belongings. She felt the presence, saw when her Cello was a centimetre out of place. It wasn’t welcome, well that was what Enid heard of it anyway. She enjoyed he was becoming braver, but she would’ve preferred the danger toward Enid’s safety. She was on his List too.

I could have forgiven murder, Tyler. I probably would have enjoyed it if I’d have been given the chance to, you know that. But, what you did to Eugene was unacceptable. And for all things Unholy, you tricked me. As disgusted as I am to admit it, I was somewhat impressed. The knife wound in my chest that you have left is dreadfully infected at this point, but then again you never truly cared for me. Only what your Master required me for. It’s just typical, the one time I let my guard down. You will not be as lucky next time. Lesson learned, Galpin.

Yes, lesson truly learned. Next time a sweet, boy-next-door type begins to remember her coffee order and look at her the way he did and takes her for dates in crypts in order to steal and manipulate- she’ll remember to blow him up with the largest grenade she could possibly source. God- she’s still proud! This is what she deserves. The crushing torture, being so close yet so disgustingly far from her goal. From her possession.

You’re probably the only person for me- and that’s the thing that’s the most crushing. Take yourself out of the equation and assume it’s literally any other person with somewhat murderous/psychotic intentions, and this would have been perfect. Incredibly so. But the facade no longer holds itself the way you could have held me. I am truly meant to be alone. If I ever thought of a way out of this measly problem- it could have been you. But this is His way, I must walk alone. Like Goody, to the dark hallway at the end of the tunnel.

Her eyes feel wet- how strange. She hadn’t blinked, she was sure. That impulse to blink, let alone cry, was wiped years ago. It was unneeded, and how much do you think you miss in the blink of an eye? More than you’ll ever know. But that’s a different can of worms on Wednesday’s shelf. Goody was right, most definitely. This silly little dalliance she felt with potential romance was nothing more than that- silly. That was not the path paved for her, and since when had she been interested in staying on a single path? Love was far too committed, far too all-consuming. But then the question is poised, why was it so enticing?

When Wednesday loved, she loved hard. She loved Nero, took so much prides that the walks they took together faced him with his untimely death. She loved her family, maybe that’s why they were so off-the-wall. She loved Tyler the most though. The way she thought about him late at night was nearly surgical, imagining where she could take her scalpel to his skin. What colour he would bleed, if any blood emerged at all. How would he react to the blade, would he hiss in pain? Or would he whine, push into the pain until it mixes with pleasure and-

Wednesday’s spiral into insanity was sure to be more timely, all because of some silly little Hyde. She didn’t even want to think about the Laurel of it all, him having a Master all that time. The fool had the sole of Wednesday’s boot destined for her fate- she just wished she had more time to be creative. It wasn’t something we wanted to expand on, once again so she didn’t loose her fucking mind, but she deemed Tyler hers. Her property, her boy.

Anyway, I must go, I have various other mysteries to solve and many other coffee shops to scout out since the Wethervane lost its interest. However, if you do read this, know my brother has an indescribable interest in Psychopaths but has worn weary of his discoveries of me. He says you’re welcome to come to our home, so he can discuss the topics with you personally. Mother and Father agree it could be good to give him a new role model. I’m backed into a corner.

If you do show up to this invite, please know I will be waiting for it. For you. With my sharpest weapon, every poison you could imagine, and only the heaviest lust to see your head placed on our welcome gate.

Yours.

Ripping the paper from the typewriters’ gasp, Wednesday wants to throw herself from the large window to her side and twenty feet down into the concrete sea of stone below. She’s disgusted in herself- then again, when isn’t she?

Looking to the window once more, a shadow slinks into the corner of her eye. Slowly turning her head, Wednesday discovers this shadow has a body. Tall, scrawny. Turning her intense stare upwards, meeting the glass panes, she sees a set of eyes in the fogged window. Glaring. Yearning. A look of undeniable excitement, and disconcerting insanity. There’s that pull again.

Speak of the devil and he may appear.

#wednesday #wednesday x tyler #weyler #wednesday addams #tyler galpin

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tenebraevesper · 4 months

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Five Nights at Freddy's: Obsolete, Night 13: The Show Has Just Begun

''These metal gears and parts, contain my purple heart. They had their sweet revenge and brought me to an end. Now I'm the monster here, I'll make you disappear. One last show to put on, after tonight you're gone.''

– Our Little Horror Story by Aviators (Five Nights at Freddy's 3)

xXxXxXx

Springtrap narrowed his eyes, having pored over all of the information Sam provided him with in regards to Five Nights at Freddy's: Help Wanted, whatever was going on at Fazbear Entertainment, and most importantly, Glitchtrap. Springtrap still had a hard time comprehending that Glitchtrap was a piece of him, trapped inside a video game and capable of communicating with, if not even manipulating whoever played it. Sam even made a note of how drained she felt, but kept pushing through despite the revelations which ranged from confusing to downright disturbing and creepy. Given the state he saw her in, Springtrap fully intended to take over this case for her so she could mentally and emotionally recover.

Speaking of which, Springtrap had fully expected that, the moment he was back, Henry, the ghost children and even his own kids would be all over his case. After all, they wasted no time making him suffer for everything he put them through and he was certain they would descend upon him like a bunch of vultures over a carcass. Yet, none of that happened. He spent the night completely alone with his own thoughts. While he didn't complain about it, he had to admit that it was quite odd. Were they even aware that he had returned? Springtrap assumed that they would be alerted immediately, but now he had his doubts, thanks to something Glitchtrap had told him back when he was in the void – that his soul was broken so much that not even his tormentor could reach out for him.

If that was the case, was it possible that no one knew that was was back? Moreover, was it really possible everyone believed that him perishing in the fire meant he'd never return again? Were there really no doubts about him keeping his promise? Or was just everyone sick and tired of his shenanigans and decided to not involve themselves with him? Springtrap didn't know, and frankly, he didn't care. He wanted to focus on the now rather than the past. After all, this situation had nothing to do with the Missing Children Incident… aside from, as Sam helpfully wrote down, Glitchtrap mockingly re-enacting the whole murder.

Springtrap wanted to focus on what Glitchtrap's motives were and how he actually worked. Sure, this was clearly another ''ghost in the machine'' situation, but beyond what he had achieved with the animatronics. Glitchtrap was now literally part of a video game code, and whoever had access to it could be easily manipulated by him. Fortunately, this was his piece of soul and he was certain that Glitchtrap would try to find a way to cause more suffering and bloodshed. Springtrap then sighed as he realized something else.

Unfortunately, I have no clue how my other self would even achieve that. Help Wanted obviously plays a crucial role… and then there's the new location, the Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex. There is no way he wouldn't try to find his way over there. Rest assured, I will be waiting for him.

Springtrap lifted his head when he suddenly heard a commotion outside the door before the sun even rose, figuring that Sam and Emma got up. It was mid-autumn and the nights would obviously be longer, with Springtrap noting how Sam wasn't exactly and early bird and that her having to get up for school must've been a pain in the neck for her. He opened the door, peeking out, and saw Sam coming out of the bathroom and walking in her room with a tired look on her expression.

''Good morning!'' Springtrap said in a chipper tone. Sam shot him a glare, not being too happy about having to get up early, grumbling something under her breath and going into her room. Springtrap then spotted Emma exiting her room, already dressed up and watching the two interact, a smirk on her lips. Springtrap could already feel the oncoming snark. ''Is there anything you want to say, Emma?''

''I have to say, seeing Sam being still angry at you brings me satisfaction,'' Emma told him. Springtrap frowned, watching her as she went downstairs, before glancing back at Sam's room and then following her to the kitchen. Emma was already making herself coffee, while Springtrap sat down at the table. Emma turned to him, still with that smirk on her lips. ''So, what plans do you have for today, Afton?''

''I need you to drop me off at Freddy's,'' Springtrap told her.

''What do you plan on doing there?'' Emma asked, shooting him a suspicious glare. Springtrap rolled his eyes.

''I need to talk to the animatronics there in regards to some… stuff,'' Springtrap said, not sure how much information he'd even want to reveal to Emma.

''I can only assume what that 'stuff' is,'' Emma responded in a snarky tone. Springtrap groaned.

''Look, I'm not going to murder anyone…'' he started, only to be interrupted by Emma.

''I never said anything about a murder,'' she replied, calmly sipping her coffee.

''You were implying it,'' Springtrap responded in a deadpan tone, his ears drooping. Emma just smirked back.

''Do you have any way to back up that claim?'' she asked in a smug tone. Springtrap remained silent, much to her amusement. Eventually, Sam came down the stairs, still looking tired and, much to Springtrap's displeasure, did not brighten up when she saw him. It was obvious she was still pissed off at him.

''Good morning, Sam!'' Emma told her daughter, who just grabbed a bowl, chocolate cereal and milk, sitting down at the table and eating wordlessly. Emma and Springtrap exchanged glances, deciding not to say anything while Sam was still in a bad mood. The breakfast was quite silent, with Sam not saying anything until it was time to go. Emma had to admit that, while she was glad that her daughter was giving Springtrap the cold shoulder, she did feel bad about seeing her in such a sour mood. She genuinely hoped that things would eventually get better.

xXx

Springtrap watched Emma and Sam drive away towards Sam's school to drop her off there, then turned towards Freddy's, using the back entrance to enter it. It was still early in the morning, and while Freddy Fazbear's wasn't open for the public yet, there was staff inside, doing prep work for the food, cleaning the building and opening boxes and placing merchandise at the gaming area. Springtrap glanced around, searching for the Showtime Animatronics. He knew that they too were affected by the Glitchtrap virus and influenced by him, and he wanted to talk to them. He would get to the bottom of this.

Bonnie was on the stage, tuning his guitar; Foxy was at the Pirate Cove; Puppet was at the Prize Corner, helping to place the merch on the shelves above her box; Chica and Freddy were nowhere to be seen at first, but he then saw Chica walking out of the kitchen, while Freddy walked out of one of the party rooms and entered another, probably checking on whether everything was ready for a day of fun, games and party. Springtrap went after Freddy.

Freddy was looked around the party room, fixing up the decorations, only to sense another presence in the room.

''It's been a while, Freddy.''

''Springtrap?'' Freddy was shocked to see Springtrap standing at the entrance to the room, with the latter then entering the room. ''Wh-What are you doing here?! I thought you were dead!... Well, more dead than usual.''

''I always come back,'' Springtrap said, shrugging. ''I suppose even Hell can't keep me contained.''

''Okay, why are you here?'' Freddy asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

''If you mean why I'm back from Hell… it's complicated,'' Springtrap started, but Freddy shook his head.

''I meant, what are you doing here in the restaurant?'' he asked.

''Sam got me up to speed with recent events, and I had figured I should talk to you since you were also affected,'' Springtrap replied. Freddy gave him a suspicious look.

''Honestly, I don't really know what to tell you, aside from the fact that we've been affected by a virus that resembles you,'' Freddy said. He noticed the sudden look of guilt on Springtrap's expression, which made him rise his eyebrow. ''What's wrong?''

''I may have some information about what's going on,'' Springtrap admitted. Freddy gave him a questioning look, only for both of them to suddenly hear one of the employees call out for Freddy.

''We will talk about it later,'' Freddy told him, shaking his head as he walked away, then shot Springtrap a glare. ''Do not cause any trouble.''

''I wouldn't even dream of it,'' Springtrap muttered in a deadpan tone. Freddy just frowned, leaving. He was aware, from his previous experience, that Springtrap had changed to an extent, but he still didn't trust him. Not to mention, he had to wonder how Springtrap had even gotten inside the restaurant without being noticed. It was clear that he was quite good at sneaking around, and that was something that worried Freddy, as regardless of whether Springtrap was now a changed man or not, he wanted to keep an eye on him. It also didn't help that he knew that he and his friends would be too busy with their own duties to make sure Springtrap wasn't up to something.

He did take note of the fact that Springtrap had talked to Sam, wondering what exactly she told him, and moreover, what her reaction was. He remembered how exhausted and drained she was in the past months, and he was certain that her response wasn't particularly positive. However, fortunately, Sam was working tonight, so he would at least get a proper explanation.

xXx

Matt had to admit that it was rather strange seeing Sam like this. Usually, she was in either a bad mood, was mentally and emotionally completely absent, was quite stressed, or was razor focused on something, which Matt now knew was whatever was going on at Freddy's. However, today she was grinning like an idiot, looking like she entered complete zen mode. She appeared to be completely at peace, having this look of satisfaction that made Matt a little bit uncomfortable. He didn't feel like this was something normal.

''Hey, Sam, how are you doing?'' he asked her as they walked to their classroom.

''Fine,'' Sam answered in a chipper tone, stretching her arms. ''As a matter of fact, I feel like a huge burden was taken off my shoulders.''

''Really? What happened?'' Matt asked. Sam's eyes then narrowed as she gazed ahead.

''Let's just say that someone else is going to take over what I've been investigating,'' Sam had told him, feeling as if she was in a haze.

''Who took over your investigation?'' Matt asked curiously. Sam stopped walking, as if frozen for a moment, her gaze lowering.

''I… I don't want to talk about it,'' she responded. ''Things have been taken care off, and that's it.''

''Are you sure?'' Matt asked, well aware that he was missing some context here, but tried to follow the red thread as much as possible. ''Is this about Glitchtrap and Help Wanted?''

''Yeah…'' Sam responded. ''Let's just say that I had found out what, or rather, who Glitchtrap really is… but the reveal comes packaged with a huge headache.''

''Got it,'' Matt said, nodding in acknowledgement. Sam rose an eyebrow.

''Are you not going to pry for more information?'' she asked. Matt shrugged.

''From what I've seen, you're currently trying to process a lot, so I'm not going to push for more until you're ready,'' Matt responded.

''I see,'' Sam muttered. ''Thanks.''

Matt smiled in response, with Sam continuing to walk. Once she turned her back to him, Matt frowned, getting that familiar chill once again. While he didn't have all of the information he needed, he knew well that Sam would probably tell him what was going on at some point. He was also suspicious of that dark shape that was surrounding her.

xXx

Springtrap was leaned against the entrance to the backroom, observing the ongoing party and games at Freddy's. Things were the same as usual, with Springtrap feeling that nothing has changed since he had left. He then shook his head at that thought, noting how even in a world where he held an important role, it would still continue without him. He knew that Fazbear Entertainment had huge plans for the future, and those plans included the new Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex, built on the remains of the robot factory that produced the animatronics for the Wolfrun Corporation.

Clearly, someone is a fan of irony.

He glanced at the animatronics, having observed their behavior of the Showtime Animatronics to see whether any of Glitchtrap's influence would be shown, but so far, all he saw was what would be normal behavior for entertainer animatronics. So far, they showed no aggressive behavior towards the employees, children or parents, but Springtrap's assumption here was that it was curbed due to them being around other people. After all, it wouldn't be smart to draw unnecessary attention to them. This made him think.

Initially, when they investigated the origins of the Showtime Animatronics, they had learned that the previous technicians who had been hired would refuse to do their job because of the aggressive behavior the Showtimes would show. While the Showtimes themselves didn't know much about what they had done to the technicians, Springtrap assumed that what happened ranged between scaring them off and actually injuring them. Fazbear Entertainment, of course, would attempt to cover up all of those incidents. Then, Sam came along, and any aggressiveness they had shown was pretty much gone, and Springtrap now understood why.

The Showtime Animatronics were infected with the Glitchtrap virus, and given how self-aware it was, it was clear that Glichtrap wanted Sam to stay. For what reason, Springtrap had no clue, but he was sure that it had to do with him. If he hadn't become so close with Sam, he doubted that any of this would happen. So, the main question remained – what was Glitchtrap planning?

There is also the fact that there is this video game, Help Wanted, and the fact that one of the people who worked on it had no problem sending it to Sam. Obviously, she'll be involved in this, but is it possible that there are more people who know about Glitchtrap's existence?

''Someone looks quite troubled.''

Springtrap looked up, surprised to see that Chica had approached him. She was carrying a stack of empty plates, clearly intending to bring them to the kitchen.

''You would also be troubled if you knew what I knew,'' Springtrap responded. Chica placed a hand on her hip, easily balancing the other plates in one hand.

''I'm feeling troubled because you're here,'' she responded, and when she saw Springtrap's lack of response besides a simple shrug, she added, ''Freddy had told us that you have some news for us.''

''I had been hoping to talk to him in privacy, but that obviously won't work now,'' Springtrap said, having seen Freddy dragged to entertain a bunch of kids at a birthday party.

''Well, you will have to wait for after hours. Trust me, we're all curious what you have to tell us,'' Chica responded. ''Sam is also working tonight, so it will be just like the old days.''

''I have a feeling that it won't be quite the same,'' Springtrap replied. Chica gave him a curious look.

''How so?'' she asked.

''For starters, there aren't any spirits that want drag me back to Hell,'' Springtrap said. Chica snorted.

''Give it time, it might happen again,'' she said, pausing for a moment. ''Are you going to stand here the whole day?''

''I've been observing you guys to see whether there would be any sign of glitches that would result in aggressive behavior,'' Springtrap explained. Chica's eyes grew wide, and then narrowed as she frowned.

''We won't get aggressive around children!'' she replied in a snappy tone, placing both hands under the stack of plates.

''I'm not accusing you of anything, but I have a feeling that that virus inside your system will take control of you,'' Springtrap responded. Chica shot him a glare, but then lowered her head.

''I hate it,'' she muttered. ''I hate the fact that there is something inside me I cannot control, and one wrong move will result in someone getting hurt. We weren't programmed to be violent, or even murderous, yet…''

''I understand,'' Springtrap said, leading to Chica giving him a strange look, falling silent for a moment, only to once again glare at him.

''How could you understand anything?'' she asked him in a quiet, but angry tone. ''Haven't you also programmed other animatronics to kidnap and murder innocent people? Those were the Circus Animatronics, right?'' Springtrap nodded silently, not denying the truth. ''If they had any sense of awareness beyond their programming, I'm sure they were beyond horrified to be used as tools in a murder.''

''How much do you know about the experiences of the previous animatronics?'' Springtrap asked, with Chica feeling annoyed that he had shown little to no emotional reaction in response to her accusations.

''I know enough,'' she growled. ''I also feel sorry for them, for being involved in this tragedy, and I feel disgust for what you have done, while you have absolutely no regret.''

''If I was showing regret now, would that fix anything I had done in the past?'' Springtrap asked. Chica blinked in surprise, only to frown.

''It would show that you have some humanity left in you, but I suppose even that is too much for you,'' Chica hissed, turning on her heel and about to walk away, only to stop when she heard Springtrap talk again.

''If I had no humanity left inside me, this place would've been closed months ago due to another Missing Children Incident,'' he said. Chica turned back to him, feeling chills flowing through her endoskeleton as she noted the implied threat in his tone. ''Do not underestimate me.''

''I won't, and neither will my friends,'' Chica responded, walking back to the kitchen.

Springtrap stared at her until she vanished from his sight, well aware that this conversation wasn't going to earn him anyone's trust, especially not from the Showtime Animatronics. He also wasn't looking forward to telling them about the truth about the virus that had infected them, but letting them know what was happening to them was the right thing to do. It was possible that they could actually fight back if they knew what was going on with them, but there was a big question mark in regards to that. He had a feeling that Glitchtrap was way more powerful than what he had shown.

This has gotten out of hands. Springtrap had never planned to take things this far. He had started out as a murderer who had discovered that there was a way to bind the soul to an animatronic body, eventually taking on an identity of his own. Things were supposed to end right here, with him being revived as an undead corpse stuck inside an animatronic suit. What happened afterwards was not supposed to happen.

He did not know that Fazbear Entertainment would be able to find his old body and scan the circuit board into this video game, creating an entity that claimed to be him, but took over his role as the ''villain'' of this story. It was almost laughable, like some kind of parody. Still, Springtrap was aware that, so far, nothing had happened. Well, unless one believed Tape Girl's messages, where Tape Girl's colleague, Jeremy, who seemed to have sliced off his own face, replacing it with a mask. He might as well be dead by now.

It's a waiting game at this point.

xXx

''I thought your animatronic buddy was irreparable,'' Anthelm said, rising an eyebrow. It was late in the evening, closing time in fact, and during the day, she had spotted a familiar bunny animatronic roaming around her restaurant, surprising her mainly because Sam had told her that he was in an accident and that he couldn't be repaired.

''Yeah, that's what I had also thought. It took me several months to get him back into a working condition,'' Sam replied, smiling sheepishly as she rubbed the back of her head. It was a blatant lie, but she couldn't exactly tell her boss that Springtrap was at this point less of a robot and more of a supernatural being. ''I was wondering, would it be okay if he stayed here during the day while I'm at school?''

Anthelm hummed, staring at Springtrap curiously, who gave her a nervous look. He and Sam were trying to negotiate with Anthelm to allow him to stay at Freddy's during the day, still pretending that he was an animatronic Sam herself built. Fortunately for them, Anthelm believed that excuse, even looking impressed that Sam had managed to ''repair'' him after he got into an ''unfortunate accident''. Springtrap assumed that Sam told Anthelm that he was irreparable because she didn't expect him to return at all, and he was amazed how quickly she came up with another lie to cover up the real reason why he returned.

''I suppose I could let him stay,'' Anthelm started, tilting her head as she folded her arms across her chest. ''You do fit the aesthetic of a Showtime Animatronic.'' She glanced at Sam. ''I suppose you got inspired, didn't you.''

''Y-Yeah,'' Sam replied. Anthelm then turned back to Springtrap.

''Although it would be weird to have two bunny animatronics,'' she said, nodding towards Bonnie.

''I promise I won't get in their way,'' Springtrap said, only to spot a curious look on Anthelm's expression.

''Of course you won't,'' Anthelm replied casually. ''I suppose we could find a role for you here. Perhaps, something in the sense of a surprise character.''

Springtrap and Sam exchanged glances, looking rather uncertain about this idea, with Sam then replying, ''I guess we'll figure something out.''

Anthelm nodded, waving at them as she left. ''Right. I hope you won't take too long checking on the animatronics. Please, lock the building once you're done.''

''Sure,'' Sam replied, relieved as she saw Anthelm leave. Once she was completely alone inside the restaurant, accompanied only by the animatronics, she sighed in relief. She then turned to the Showtime Animatronics, who all gave her a questioning look. ''I suppose you don't believe anything I had just told Anthelm.''

''No, we don't,'' Freddy told her in a matter-of-fact tone, arms folded across his chest.

''Well, aside from the fact that Springtrap wants to stay here during the day,'' Bonnie said, supporting one arm with his other hand. ''That is the only believable thing.''

''Aye,'' Foxy added. ''Lassie, what's going on?''

''Don't worry, we'll explain everything,'' Sam replied, walking over to one of the rooms in the back to get her tools. ''However, I need to fix Bonnie arm first.''

Freddy, Chica, Foxy, Puppet and Springtrap looked at Bonnie, who just smiled back sheepishly. ''Well, I suppose those kids got a bit too rowdy…''

''Too rowdy? They treated you like a jungle gym,'' Puppet pointed out.

''Not to mention, it would be one thing if they were toddlers, but those kids were elementary school age,'' Chica said in an annoyed tone, placing her hands on her hips. ''They should know better.''

''To me, they looked like those type of kids who'd throw their video game controler at a TV screen because they got a Game Over,'' Springtrap commented. Bonnie sat down at a table, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, with Sam arriving and opening the tool box and getting to work.

''This is going to take a bit,'' Sam said as she noted the broken wrist. Freddy turned to Springtrap, giving him an anticipating look.

''Okay, I think you can now tell us what the deal is with Glitchtrap and why you're here,'' he said. ''Sam had told us that our circuit boards have data from the Help Wanted video game, which in turn is based on the data gathered from the previous animatronics. Glitchtrap, however, is an anomaly – one who is capable of controlling us – and we want to know why.''

''That… That's because Glitchtrap is a piece of my own soul,'' Springtrap admitted.

''What?!''

The Showtime Animatronics looked furious, while Sam just rolled her eyes as she continued repairing Bonnie's broken wrist joints. Springtrap noted how Freddy was just glaring at him, but didn't look too surprised about the revelation.

''What have you done?'' Freddy asked coldly. Springtrap exhaled sharply.

''I haven't done a damn thing,'' he said in an irked tone. ''From what I know, my soul literally broke apart because of the torment I went through in Hell, and it manifested into an entity that is independent from myself. I have nothing to do with Glitchtrap. As for why I'm back…'' Springtrap trailed off, falling silent for a moment as he sneaked a glance towards Sam. ''Well, I wanted to apologize to Sam. Just that.''

Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, Foxy and Puppet stared at Springtrap, clearly doubting that this was the reason why he had returned, and glanced at Sam, who just frowned, focusing on fixing Bonnie's wrist. Clearly, she was still angry at Springtrap, refusing to defend him. Freddy sighed.

''Okay, if you're telling the truth, then do you know what Glitchtrap wants from us?'' he asked Springtrap.

''If Glitchtrap is really the same as I used to be, then he'd want more bloodshed and he would use you for that,'' Springtrap said, with the Showtime Animatronics groaning in response, being completely done with everything. ''However, I don't know for sure, as I'm only talking about what I'd do in this situation. There is no way of knowing whether I'm correct about my assumptions.''

''I had been hoping that for once, we wouldn't have to deal with any of this mess,'' Puppet said in frustration.

''That is something I also agree with,'' Springtrap said, earning a glare from everyone. He quickly shut up.

''Hey, lassie, do you have anythin' to say about this?'' Foxy asked Sam, who at first was silent, then sighed.

''Okay, to confirm things, yes, Springtrap is telling the truth,'' Sam said in a matter-of-fact tone. ''Furthermore, I don't know completely what Glitchtrap wants, but so far, he seems to be laying low. It also seems that Glitchtrap is interested in me in some way.'' She ignored the questioning looks everyone gave her. ''At least, that's the feeling I got when playing Help Wanted. Of course, he could've been just messing with me.''

''Then, what are we supposed to do?'' Chica asked. ''I mean, we cannot let any people get hurt again.''

''Unfortunately, that is unavoidable,'' Sam replied, earning several looks of surprise from the animatronics. ''Whether you want to blame Springtrap for this or not, there is one key player you shouldn't forget – Fazbear Entertainment. Glitchtrap may be a piece of Springtrap, but Fazbear Entertainment is the one responsible for his creation, or rather, his existence outside the afterlife. Fazbear Entertainment also doesn't care about the lives of their workers, as long as it doesn't harm their image, and they will cover up any murder that happens.''

''…yeah, you're right about that,'' Freddy agreed. Sam nodded, continuing.

''There is also that new place, the Freddy Fazbear Mega Pizzaplex, and you can bet a certain someone will take advantage of it,'' she said, with the animatronic once again glaring at Springtrap, who wondered what the hell did he do this time. Sam rolled her eyes. ''No, I don't mean him.''

''Yeah, we know,'' Bonnie told her sheepishly. ''So, do you have any plan?''

''I do want to go to the Pizzaplex once it opens, just to check on the place and the animatronics,'' Sam replied. ''There is also another person I'd like to talk to, someone named Vanessa, who was the one who sent me the Help Wanted version that was affected by Glitchtrap. However, my current top priority would be to go back to Help Wanted and confront Glitchtrap once again.''

''Why would you do that? Isn't it dangerous now that you know who he is?'' Chica asked.

''Yeah, but… Vanessa sent me a Halloween DLC update, and I want to check it out to see what it is about,'' Sam told them. ''Glitchtrap is already messing with my head, and this leaves me with only two options – either I continue the investigation as it is, or I don't and make the next step without any new information. In a situation like this, it's clear what option I'm going to choose.''

''Then, please, stay safe,'' Chica said. Freddy glanced at Sam, giving her a look of concern.

''This differs greatly from your previous experience, doesn't it?'' he said. ''Before, you at least had a face. You knew whom to blame. However, this situation is a lot more complicated.''

''Yeah,'' she said, glancing at Springtrap. ''At least Springtrap can keep an eye on me in case something happens. I will be in my room, in the safety of my home, and the only dangerous thing I can think of that might happen to me is some kind of psychological manipulation or hallucinations. However, if I do black out and do something, Springtrap can stop me.''

''I'm still not sure why you're trusting him,'' Puppet said, glaring at Springtrap. Sam sighed.

''It's not like I have much of a choice…'' she trailed off, sounding as if she was about to say something else, but kept quiet. Springtrap took note of that, but didn't comment on it. If Sam was going to open up to him, she would be doing it at her own pace. ''In any case, I don't really have much of an headache as I used to have.''

''You're not alone in this,'' Springtrap commented, with Sam turning to him, pouting.

''Yeah, I know,'' she said in a matter-of-fact tone. Springtrap's ears drooped as he felt a sting of guilt, while the Showtime Animatronics just exchanged glances.

It was obvious that Sam wouldn't be as forgiving, even if she was willing to work with Springtrap.

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