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Fit check!!
Stephanie: Fit check! So, my jeans are from old navy, my shirt is from pacsun, I stole this jacket from one of the Waynes, and my shoes are converse from like... five years ago
Duke: my pants are from Target, my shirt is from american eagle, my jacket is carhart, and my shoes are nike.
Dick: my jeans are Levi, my shirt is aropostale, my jacket is Ralph Lauren, and my shoes are also nike
Tim: My pants are prada my polo is versache. My sweater is Hemes, and my shoes are vans.
Damian: All of my clothes have been specifically tailored to me.
Jason: I- I got my clothes from a dumpster.
Damian: We can tell, Todd
#jason todd#tim drake#duke thomas#damian wayne#stephanie brown#dick grayson#tim and damian grew up with a shit ton of money#so did dick but he would be better about it because he was on his own for a while#duke would feel uncomfy using bruce's money (Bruce gifted him the carhart jacket because he learned from Jason that practical = good)#stephanie definitely does ween off of Bruce's credit card but doesn't use it for designer because she's not actually one of Bruce's kids#Jason actually thrifted everything but compared to his brothers#it probably seems like he got his clothes from a dumpster
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Platonic Hazbin Hotel x Autism creature reader ii
Apparently you all like this? Sorry about the long wait, school’s been kicking my ass lately.
Anyway, here’s part 2, Bon appétit
Part i | Part ii
You fell.
It hurt. It hurt a lot.
All you remember was waking up to Speckle slithering on your face and- HOLY CRAP YOUR WING SHOULD NOT BEND LIKE THAT
After about 10 minutes of wallowing in your pain, you slowly got up.
Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow
You took a moment to take in the situation. Your clothes, as well as the ground beneath you, we’re stained in gold. It was hard to miss the golden blood trailing behind you too.
There was also a crater in the ground where you fell.
You see the Hazbin hotel in the distance and with the obvious attitude of “What could go wrong?” You sauntered towards the looming building
Speckle took over sight duty on the way tho. The Bright sign posts and the occasional dumpster fires rubbing salt on the metaphorical wound of your approaching melt down.
When you finally got there, you uncovered your eyes and stood outside for a few minutes before finally gathering up the courage to knock on the door.
Luckily for you, it’s Charlie who opens the door.
You exchange awkward greetings, Charlie beating around the bush of asking you the casual question of you know, why the fuck you’re in hell?
After a few seconds of staring at each other, you nervously fiddle with your thumbs
“So Uhm, I uh, fell, I guess.”
After the initial shock, concern, and confusion, Charlie welcomed you with open arms
At first, the hotel residents didn’t know what to make of you
Vaggie was pretty neutral with you, you seemed alright enough in heaven and if you weren’t gonna make a fuss neither would she.
That is, until she found you making yourself a cup of cocoa at two in the morning.
“Had a nightmare,” you mumbled when she questioned you, hand stretched towards you as if she held her spear to you throat. Did she sleep with the thing? Who knows.
She dropped her arm and took in your disheveled appearance. That seemed to check out. It seemed tonight wasn’t good for you either. “What about you?” She heard you ask drowsily.
“Nightmare.” She said. It was cold and blunt as she turned on the kettle and carelessly threw a teabag inside of a mug. ‘Best girlfriend ever’ it read in black. A gift from charlie, she smiled at the thought.
“Wanna talk about it?” You tested. This situation was more awkward than you wanted to deal with. At least the noise of the kettle in the background filled up the silence.
Vaggie turned to you, the ghost of a smile lingering on her face. Maybe tonight wasn’t so bad.
And since then you and her talked about what was bothering you. Or not. Sometimes you just sit next to each other, a cup of cocoa in both of your hands and enjoy each other’s company.
Angel found you funny
Fat nuggets 🤝 you.
Whenever Angel has to go to the studio, he leaves Fat Nuggets with you.
Whether its for you to watch the pig, or the pig to watch you, well… thats up to you.
He probably won’t open up to you about Valentino
But if he does, the stupid bald moth asshole can expect a lot of passive aggressive [special interest] themed notes that come seemingly nowhere.
Sir Pentious didn’t know what to make of you at first.
To him, you were some random child that showed up one day and could go from staring into someones soul for minutes on end without blinking, to looking like you were on the brink of tears if you hands brushed against a nope texture.
Eventually though, you ask about his inventions.
Bro had a whole “your asking about my theories? I’ve waited years for someone to ask me about my theories!” Moment.
(If you get that reference I love you)
You become hyper-fixation buddies.
You and Nifty don’t get along too well…
“YOU LEAVE THE ROACHES ALONE!” You shriek, holding two bugs high above you hear as the short little menace tries to get to them, knife brandished.
“NEVER!” She laughed back a crazed look in her eye.
…that wasn’t fun. Rest in piece Sir Bob and dame Jane.
Whenever you zone out in front of Husk, he pours a glass of apple juice and gently places it in front of you, eyeing you every now and then, a concerned look in his eyes.
Alastor finds you amusing.
He tried making a deal with you on your first day.
Now Vaggie won’t let him within a 3 meter radius of you.
When you meet Lucifer, he takes one look at you, Speckle coiled around your neck and a bottle of apple juice in your hands and just immediately goes “🫠”
He’s your father now. There’s no getting out of it. Why would even you want to tho?
Hyper-fixation buddy #2
You both rant about your special interests to each other
Be prepared to be bombarded with rubber ducks.
Meanwhile, in heaven…
Everyone: wHeRe iS tHe cHiLd?
#fanfiction#platonic x reader#hazbin x reader#platonic hazbin hotel#autistic reader#hazbin lucifer#hazbin lucifer x reader#platonic lucifer x reader#hazbin charlie#hazbin vaggie#hazbin sir pentious#hazbin angel dust
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Hi :D
Sorry if this is a little strange but can I please request Dottore with a female reader that grew up in an abusive and poor household, so she isn't used to a lot of things like eating a lot, getting cared for and even caring for her health. Also Im not sure if this counts as angst or not so if it does and you don't wanna write it please ignore this! <3
You're Request has been made ♡ ~('▽^人)
I don't count this as Angst because it has a good Ending!
FEMALE CHILD READER & PLATONIC DOTTORE
♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧
You met Dottore when you were searching for some new clothes, all your clothes were old and had holes in them because your parents didn't buy you any after your brother was born
It wasn't hard to know that you weren't the favorite child, everything you got was either from the dumpster or something your little brother didn't want
You thought that maybe you weren't the favorite because you aren't a boy?
"Mommy! Can i get this toy?"-Sibling
"Yes, of course sweetie!"-Mother
"... can i get one too?"-you
"No. We don't have enough money for someone like you."
Just like any other day you searched for food or clothes
As you sat for some hours on a bench eating bread thats stale you see a blue haired guy approach you?
He offered you a new home with food
How could you possibly not accept that offer? I mean no one would care if you went away, they would probably not even notice
So you accepted
At first Dottore took you in because he wanted you to become a child soldier. He wanted this "child" to become so strong that it'll defeat armys of Monster
As Time went on he noticed some things
Why does this child always eat so little?Why does that child never ask for anything, should'nt kids ask for things?And why does this child seem to be afraid of physical contact?
He did some digging and found out, now he knew why.
He knew that he was a Monster, everyone knew that, but why? Why does his heart get soft whenever he sees you?
Things began to change
You noticed that he became less angry at you, that he asked for your input, got you clothes and a room for yourself
You began to loosen up, shly asking for more food
"Can i.. get some more?..... please? 。・゚゚・(>_<)・゚゚・。."-You
"Yes, you didn't have to ask. Just go up to one of my clones and he will take you to the fridge."-Dottore
He treated you like a real child, like you deserved to live. He didn't scream at you about how you're not a boy.
No, he treated you like a.. daughter?
Months ago you would've never thought of him as your father but as time went on you called him dad in your mind
He helped you in more ways then he himself knows of
Months later you gave him his first hug
"(っ╹ᆺ╹)っ thank you..dad? For everything" -You
"Its... nothing, how about you go with me to the lab?"-Dottore
He may not call you daughter or nicknames but you can see it in his Actions that he loves you
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Summary: Dottore sees you as his daughter, he loves you and would do anything for you. He will love you, whatever gender you may be. He may not call you daughter, but everyone can see that he loves you.
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
Thank you for reading! I may or may not made this chapter a little serious? Im very sorry i didn't add any jokes like in the other ones, i was so focused on writing this🙏😭
#platonic#child reader#genshin impact fatui#video games#x platonic!reader#dottore#fatui harbingers#fatui harbinger dottore#found family#female reader#female child reader#headcanons#headcanon#genshin impact#anime
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they say write what you know and what i know is academic stress and yearbook pain. so anyways it's a yearbook club au!!!!
YEARBOOK CLUB MEMBERS:
supervising teachers: gertrude and leitner. they become uncontactable like a week into the project (do they die? do they resign? tim has a running theory that they eloped.)
elias: head of yearbook club. dips unexpectedly in the middle of the entire thing (something about an optical surgery) and forces jon to take over. his dad paid for the adobe subscription they’re using
rosie: treasurer, she’s very efficient, they’ve probably exchanged like 3 emails in total and she’s gotten everything funded. knows well enough to stay out of the dumpster fire that is yearbook production otherwise
jon: de facto head of yearbook club. thinks it should have gone to sasha instead. hes a bit incompetent but plans like it’s doomsday the next week so they are always in a wealth of excel sheets. writer, editor
tim: joined partly because he wanted an excuse to get out of football fixtures. also because he is 1 out of jons 3 friends including his ex and jon asked him. he has a tiktok. marketing, editor
sasha: joined partly to impress gertrude (she’s looking for her to write her letter of recommendation as head girl in sixth form). also because she is 1 out of jons 3 friends including his ex and jon asked her. she still uses livejournal. designer, writer
gerry: sixth form, occasionally helps out with networking at gertrude’s behest. tim is a bit starstruck over him. he saves their asses many, many times
melanie and georgie: got unofficially roped in as photographers. why you ask? manuela dominguez may have the cutting edge cameras but she is simply too scary to approach. melanie has a youtube channel that all the girls and tim are apparently subscribed to.
martin: there is not one single picture of him. apparently he didn’t turn up for photo day, neither was he involved in any school events. even the people who have shared half-remembered facts about him seem to forget about him when questioned a second time. where did he go?
PLOT:
it’s the month before the yearbook is due to be sent in for production, and the team have discovered numerous issues with the draft: pictures of random people keep getting swapped over like they’ve been photoshopped, some pages are illegible and distorted unless they are physically written out in hand and scanned, one paragraph is a leitner. and nobody can find martin blackwood so they can get his picture in the yearbook. what will they do.
SIDE CHARACTERS:
annabelle cane: current head girl
mikaele salesa: somehow knows literally everyone, involved in the funding of yearbook production
mike crew: uneasy alliance with gerry in their pursuit of jurgen leitner
oliver banks: had a mental breakdown sometime during his gcses but hes fine now
david from research: nobody says it to his face but he has genuinely the most atrocious clothing choice in the entire school apart from michael shelley, and even then michael shelley makes work
grifter’s bone: the band of the school, except no one actually knows anyone who’s part of it. their shows are legendarily terrible. manuela says ambulances were phoned.
daisy and basira: prefects, currently invested in making sure yearbook club remains LEGAL and not STALKING ANY STAFF OR STUDENTS, JON
jmag: principal. boo. what a creep
julia montauk: apparently her dad went to jail. but who is she living with now? i don’t know, manuela told me. how does manuela know? julia told her in a sleepover during year 6. and she’s telling other people? wow. that’s messed up. is that old guy her grandpa? why does he carry a rifle around
jared hopworth: prejudiced gymbro, but importantly, NOT a homophobe.
the admiral: what else needs to be said
FAMOUS ALUMNI:
agnes montague (campus celebrity from literally decades ago) (her relationship with jack barnabas is mythicised)
jude perry (allegedly caused some fire-related, agnes-related events)
edwin burroughs (allegedly commited atrocities during one year’s christmas dinner)
jane prentiss (left for uni a year ago, allegedly brought many live organisms onto campus) (keeps talking about this guy called jordan)
eric delano (he did WHAT to his eyes)
MISCELLANEOUS POINTS:
daedalus crew is astronomy club
breekon and hope are the manufacturers for much of the schools equipment and stationery
jon keeps finding notes from gertrude stashed in random places about yearbook difficulties its like a fun cool treasure hunt
they cant figure out where a computer they were initially using for yearbook club is from. it says ‘ushanka’ on the bottom of the display and the keys are slightly crusty
what the hell are the drama students actually up to
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Exposure Therapy pt. 8
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader
Summary | You make the poor choice of teasing Dr. Crane, so obviously he has to punish you.
Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, kissing, hickeys, praise, edging, crying (but in a hot way), consensual sex, orgasm denial, cockwarming?, emotions? idk, neither does he tbh, bestie has no idea how to comfort you💀
Words | 3.6k
Notes | Trying really hard to keep his character accurate😓 lmk what y’all think lol
Ao3 link | <3
Fic Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Part 7
Neither of you mentioned his confession again. He seemed to be acting mostly normal and only a little awkward and withdrawn so you tried to remain the same to assure him that nothing changed. You were sitting on the couch, doodling with a spare piece of paper he found as well as an extra pencil, when you broke the silence.
“Where are you planning on sleeping?” You asked, eyeing the large space that was empty save for a desk, a chair, and a couch.
“The couch.” He said, not looking up from what he was working on.
“Where am I supposed to sleep?” You asked, making him sigh and turn his gaze to you. “For now you may sleep on the couch, I doubt I’ll be sleeping much anyway.”
“Oh. Don’t you have an apartment? A bed?”
“The cops are going to be looking for everyone that escaped, including myself- especially myself, because I created what caused all of that.”
“Oh… What if I go? I can bring you back some clothes so you don’t have to stay in that and anything else you need? I doubt I can lift a mattress on my own though.”
“You want to go to my apartment in the middle of town, wearing that?” He asked, raising his brows. You looked down at your outfit and frowned, just now remembering that you’re wearing it still.
“People are dumb enough to hang their laundry up outside. I’ll just take something before getting downtown.” You suggested, but back tracked when he was silent for a moment. “I don’t have to, it was just an idea.”
“What will you do if the police show up?”
“Um… I’ll tell them you’re my boyfriend and I left something there that I need.” That made him scoff.
“They won’t believe that.”
“Fine. Ex boyfriend. Who’s been so busy working that I had to just go there myself.” You shrugged and he narrowed his eyes at you for a moment.
“Fine. Know that if you get caught, I have no power or leverage anymore to help you.” Honestly you didn’t expect him to agree. You figured he might want to keep you within his sight at all times but that wasn’t the case. Trying not to read into this new found trust, you were going over the plan in your head.
“Wait, is it even within walking distance?” You realized, worried the whole plan just fell apart.
“It’s not on this island, so no. And the train is still down because of the bat.”
“Oh… I can probably walk, it’ll just take me longer I guess.” The sun was rising anyway, so it’ll probably be fine. “Or I’ll ask someone for a ride.”
“Do not do that.” He said sternly, making you frown.
“Why not?”
“Because this is Gotham and you are a young, attractive woman. You will more than likely be kidnapped, raped, or killed.”
“What am I supposed to do then?” He let out a heavy sigh, and got something out of his desk drawer. When he told you to come to him, you stood, leaving the pencil and paper, and walked over.
“Give me your hand.” You held your arm out to him and he gently grabbed your hand to put on a very weird shaped bracelet on your wrist. “In case you don’t have time to put the mask on, point it away from your face and hold your breath, then push this.” He pointed to a lever near the heel of your hand and you reached for it, trying to test the motion and get used to it, but he stopped you.
“Not- now.” He strained, uncurling your fingers.
“Sorry.” You said sheepishly.
Then you were leaving, finding clothes that looked about the right size and changing in an alley behind a dumpster. The tricky part was the shoes but they’re subtle enough that they shouldn’t draw very much attention. You found an empty paper bag near the dumpster and put the mask in it then started looking for someone to drive you. You spotted an older woman getting into a car and immediately walked toward her.
“Excuse me?” You said, making her pause.
“No change, sorry.”
“Oh no, I was actually hoping you could give me a ride. I have a job interview downtown and it probably wouldn’t make a good impression to show up all sweaty. But I understand if it’s too much trouble…”
She only hesitated for a moment before agreeing, telling you to get in the back and asking for the address. You read it off the paper to her and ten minutes later you were pulling up in front of an apartment building.
“You sure this is it?”
“It’s for a small business.” You explained, quickly getting out of the car. “Thank you so much.” You dropped the smile as soon as you turned around to walk into the building. “Fuck,” You groaned, “I don’t have a fucking key.” How could you have forgotten that part? You decided to just walk inside, breathing a sigh of relief when you spotted a front desk.
“Hi, I lost my key and my boyfriend’s out of town and I’m supposed to feed his cat,”
“What number?” The man asked, bored.
“178.” He reached back and grabbed a key, handing it to you impatiently. “Thanks...” He wasn’t lying when he said everyone and everything is corrupt or just doesn’t care.
You made your way to the elevator and pushed 17. As you waited, you went over the list he gave you. Most of the stuff was easy, an extra pair of glasses in his desk drawer, a few pairs of clothes, shoes, a toothbrush as well as the extra one under the sink for yourself, etc. But you were mostly worried about the safe and the papers he wanted. What if you can’t open it? What if you grab the wrong ones?
The elevator opening with a ding removed you from your thoughts and you made your way to his door. You worked quickly, not wanting to increase your chances of getting caught, but you took the time to fold his suits, worried he’d be upset if you just threw them in his duffel bag. You opened the safe on the second try, putting the money that was in there in the duffel bag.
Then you made your way to the desk. Even though the rest of the place was completely tidy, the desk was covered in different papers. He said they would be on top, not in a drawer, so you grabbed everything just to be safe.
Before leaving, you went through his dresser, praying he wouldn’t be pissed, and got some shirts and sweatpants for yourself, as well as a hoodie and socks.
The ride back was much easier since you had money to take a cab, but you still had to walk a few minutes, not wanting to be dropped off right in front of his “hideout” just in case.
“No trouble?” He asked, barely glancing up from what he was writing.
“Well I realized I forgot to ask about a key- speaking of which, you should probably move because the guy at the front desk just gave it to me.” The corners of his lips turned up and your cheeks went red, still not used to it.
“Good job.” You stared at him in shock, feeling your cheeks heat up even more, but you tried to play it off.
“Did you just compliment me?” You scoffed teasingly.
“Don’t get used to it. Did you bring the papers I asked for?”
“Oh- yeah.” You set the duffel bag on the desk and he opened it to inspect the contents. “I- I hope it’s okay, I brought just a few shirts and pants for myself too.” You said nervously. When he didn’t respond, you figured that meant it was okay. He started looking through the papers, then turned to you with raised brows. “I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bring the wrong thing so I just took all of it.”
“Thank you.” He said, making your eyes widen.
“Mhm.” Was all you could say in response. “Oh- here.” You said, suddenly remembering the wristband and taking it off to give it back.
“Keep it.”
“What?” You choked out. “You- you’re not worried I’ll use it on you or something?” You asked, staring at him with furrowed brows.
“Of course not.” He scoffed, then set the papers down and took out a suit and the shoes as you just waited awkwardly, not sure what to do. “Are you just going to watch?” He was teasing you, but there was still an edge to his voice.
“N- no, sorry.” You blushed, turning around and staring at the ground, listening to the sound of clothes rustling behind you and thinking about how you’ve only ever seen his face, neck, hands, and cock- nothing else. The thought made you frown. “Unless it’s okay… then I’d like to watch.” You said quietly and the rustling stopped.
“Why?” His tone was guarded.
“I just- I haven’t seen you yet and you’ve seen all of me.” You explained meekly. “Nevermind, sorry.” You waited anxiously as you heard no movement from the man behind you.
“Go ahead.” He said in a measured tone. You tentatively turned around, finding him in just a pair of dress pants, straight jacket on the floor and shirt in hand. The first thing you noticed was how lean he looks without his suit. The second were the small scars littering his torso. The third was his happy trail, leading down into his pants, teasing you.
“Satisfied?” You looked up at him when you heard his voice, not able to read his expression. When all you could do was nod, his lips curled up into a small smirk. “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll fuck you stupid over the desk.” He warned, voice laced with arousal.
“Is that a promise, doctor?” You purred, stepping closer to him, setting the wristband on the desk to have both hands free. He stiffened, but allowed you to move until you were right in front of him. Staring deep into icy blue eyes, you slowly raised your hands, as if you were approaching a wild animal who could attack at any second. His eyes moved to your hands, watching, but he didn’t say anything. So you slowly moved them closer until you could almost feel the heat from his body against your palms. His eyes moved back to yours and you searched them for a deterrent. When you found nothing, you placed your hands on his chest, sliding them down his stomach, making sure not to linger on any scars. You reached his pants and brushed over the button teasingly before snaking them back up his body.
“You’re playing with fire.” He said lowly. Your hands reached his shoulders and you trailed them down his arms. Once you reached his hands, you grabbed the shirt and set it on the desk, then took both of his hands in yours, moving them around your waist.
“On the contrary, Dr. Crane. I’m getting exactly what I want.” You placed your hands on his stomach again to snake around to his back.
“Oh? And what’s that?” He said coyly, playing along.
“You can let me keep teasing you to my heart's content or you can punish me. Either way I win.” You smirked, moving your hands down his back to his pants and following the waist line around his body until they met at the button.
“You think you’ll enjoy however I choose to punish you?” He scoffed.
“You said it yourself, doctor. You don’t want to hurt me. So I’m sure I can take it.” His hands moved to your hips, gripping tight enough to make you wince as he pushed you against the desk.
“Foolish girl. You underestimate my desire to watch you crying and begging for my forgiveness. I have no problem torturing you, in fact, I’ll enjoy it.” You faltered at that. “Does that frighten you?” He asked, tilting his head.
“You don’t scare me anymore.” You said quietly, feeling the arousal in your stomach quickly make its way between your legs.
“That’s not what I asked.” He teased and you swallowed thickly, squirming under his gaze.
“No.” You tried to keep your voice steady.
“Maybe not yet. But I’m sure it will soon.” He reached a hand up to wrap around your neck, squeezing and pulling you forward as your breath hitched. “I don’t have to hurt you to torture you. You should know that by now.” He said quietly, gaze straying to your lips.
“I can take it.” You said, equally as quiet, not even believing the words as they left your mouth.
“You think so?” He cooed and you nodded in response. “I guess we’ll find out then.” He took a step back and you whined at the loss of his touch, reaching out for him. “Pick it up.” He said, gesturing to the straight jacket. Your eyes moved anxiously between him and the garment, hesitating. “This is the only warning I’m giving you— You don’t want me to tell you again.” You leaned down and picked up the straight jacket, then waited for his next command.
“Put it on.”
“Dr. Crane,” You whined, but he raised his brows, making you close your mouth and reluctantly slide it on. He stepped closer again then started buckling the restraints.
“You seem to think that pain is the only form of punishment I’ll inflict. I guess given my history I shouldn’t be surprised but you need to get that idea out of your head right now or things will only get worse for you.” You stared at him with wide eyes but his gaze remained on the task of restraining you. “There are plenty of ways I can punish you.” He said clinically, like a doctor explaining something to a patient. “Like denial, for example. Not just orgasm denial… You can’t touch me either.”
“Please- I’m sorry.” You whined, giving him puppy dog eyes that did not work at all.
“I bet you are. I bet you’ll say whatever it is you think I want to hear right now. Unfortunately, the only sounds I want from you are moans and cries.” He led you over to the couch and kneeled in front of you to pull down your pants and underwear before having you sit. He discarded your shoes so he could fully remove your clothes, then pulled you forward to the edge of the couch and spread your legs embarrassingly wide.
“I think you also underestimate my patience. I am more than willing to do this as long as it takes.” He started dragging his hands up and down your thighs, teasing you, never getting close to where you wanted him.
“Please.” You whined as your hips started squirming.
“Come now… We haven’t even started and you’re already begging? At least save that until the actual torture begins.”
“Don’t want torture.” You muttered.
“No? I thought you said this would be a win for you? That you can take it.”
“Please.” You whined, much brattier this time— all but throwing a fit.
“There’s that attitude.” He chuckled. “Keep that up. It makes it more fun for me when you break.” His hands snaked up your thighs, then back down, teasing you. You whined and squirmed, but surprisingly, it worked. He moved a hand between your legs, swiftly pushing in two fingers and rapidly curling them against your walls. You let out a choked moan from the sudden pleasure as your head rolled back onto the couch and your hips bucked. He pulled you even farther down the couch, then leaned down and took your clit in his mouth.
“Oh fuck,” You said through a moan, hips flinching as he groaned against you in response. Lifting your head to look down at him, you found his eyes already on you, making you blush and squirm under his gaze. After getting so turned on and not coming when you sucked him off before, your orgasm approached quickly. The volume of your moans increased as you started trying to rut against his face. He suddenly pulled back, his fingers halting, making you whine.
“Please, I was so close.” You pouted.
“I know.” He leaned back down, resuming the motions of his fingers as he started working your clit over in his mouth again. Your breathing grew heavier as you felt yourself nearing the edge again, but you let out a choked sob when he stopped.
“Please!” You cried.
“Shh. Be a good girl and take your punishment.” He muttered before leaning back down and continuing. You weren’t sure how many times you were on the cusp of pleasure before it was ripped away from you, but you knew it was at least five— after that you weren’t able to concentrate on counting through your crying and desperation. He pulled back but continued moving his fingers as you babbled out incoherent pleas.
“I have to admit, my patience is wearing thin so I’ll only keep this up for a little longer.” You sobbed in relief at his words. “Once I’m ready to come, I’m gonna fuck your ass. Remember how much you liked it before? It won’t be nearly as pleasurable this time and you certainly won’t be able to come from it.”
“No- no, please.” You said, panicked. The thought of being empty was enough to intensify your crying. “Please- I don’t care if I don’t come, just please fuck me.” You whimpered.
“Shh, it’s okay.” He said softly, but you just shook your head.
“No, I- I need your cock- please!”
“How do I know you won’t come?” He asked, slowing his fingers to a stop before removing them, making you whimper at the emptiness.
“I won’t! Please- I promise I won’t!” He watched you cry for a moment before cursing under his breath and working on taking his cock out of his pants.
“Can’t fucking say no to you.” He muttered, helping you to lay down on the couch as he crawled over you. The second he pushed in, you let out a relieved sob that turned into a whine when you tried to move your arms.
“Please- I want to touch you. Please let me touch you.” You whimpered, watching the way his brows furrowed as his mouth opened in a silent moan when he was all the way in.
“I can’t, you still need to be punished.” He said breathlessly and you sobbed the hardest you have all night so far.
“Please! Please- I’m sorry!” You cried and he shushed you as he brought a hand up to wipe away the tears on your cheeks.
“I know, it’s okay.” He cupped your cheek and leaned down to kiss you as he slowly started moving. Trailing kisses up your jaw to your ear, he whispered, “You’re doing so well, little one. Making me feel so good.” You sobbed harder at the pet name— not used to such affection from him.
“Oh god,” You moaned, already feeling close again. When he picked up the pace and began kissing and marking your neck, you started panting again. You tried to at least tone down your sobbing a little bit, but after you started, it was really hard to stop.
“Fuck- I’m already close.” He whined, rutting into you desperately now. His hands never left your body as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, letting out quiet moans and shaky breaths. When he stilled with a low groan, your cunt ached at the way his cock was twitching inside you, painting your walls with his come. After a moment, his moans stopped and he was panting heavily into your shoulder. When he started pulling out, you sobbing intensified.
“No! Please- please don’t- not yet.” You whimpered.
“I need to get this off of you.” He said, lifting his head from your neck to look at the straight jacket.
“I don’t care- just please don’t leave yet.” You cried.
“Okay- It’s okay. Sit up like this.” He maneuvered you so that he was sitting on the couch and you were straddling his hips, his cock never leaving you. He started working on the straight jacket, unbuckling all of it until he could slip it off if you and toss it on the floor. Now that your hands were free, you realized that you couldn’t even do anything with them, not without making him uncomfortable. So you continued crying.
“Okay, just- come here.” He muttered, pulling you down to lay on his chest. Your hands gripped his shoulders tight as you turned your cheek, listening to his heartbeat and feeling the warmth of his skin. His hands fumbled around for a moment before eventually settling on your hips and you knew that he was probably miserable right now. Honestly you’re surprised he didn’t just throw you off of him instead.
“I’m sorry- I…” He shushed you, not letting you continue babbling out apologies.
“Just breathe.” He said softly and you couldn’t help but obey. You let out a slow shaky breath, trying to calm yourself down. “That’s it. Just focus on breathing. You did so well for me, I’m very proud.” You let out another quiet sob at the praise and shushed you again as he moved a hand up to your hair, lightly stroking it to soothe you.
“You’re okay.” He said softly. “Just breathe— you’re okay.”
Part 9
(For the sake of the plot, bestie is no longer taking oral contraceptives because he had her get an iud or something back in Arkham lol)
#jonathan crane smut#jonathan crane x reader#jonathan crane#scarecrow x reader smut#scarecrow#exposure therapy
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next time
wc: 1.9k
warnings: dabi being a menace (as always), injury and violence mention
PART 2 →
You’ve been in a lot of hairy and otherwise life-threatening situations as a pro-hero. There’s the time you got pinned under a car, and that other time you were held at gunpoint. Oh! And there was even one afternoon where you’d ended up strung up by your ankle from a skyscraper window. Dangling 400 feet above cold, hard cement really encourages a person to reconsider their life choices (but apparently not enough to make you quit your job).
So curling up against the cool, stinky metal of a dumpster in some back alley in Hosu City with notorious League of Villains member Dabi crouching in front of you like the cat that got the cream, all things considered, really isn’t that surprising.
Your leg is busted, so you can’t run. And with the heavens above as your witness, you’d tried. The only good it served was to send bile up your throat and white hot pain shooting through the meat of your thigh. Not smart. Your side burns and blood bullies through the gaps between your fingers, sticky and wet from the blast of a scummy criminal some ten minutes earlier. You hunch further against the dumpster, the adrenaline racing from your bloodstream leaves your body feeling tired, limbs leaden. You can’t fight anymore.
Feeling defeated, you huff a sigh and close your eyes. “Here to cut off all my limbs, leave me for dead? Isn’t that what you villains get up to on Monday nights?”
“Dismemberment isn’t really my thing, doll.”
“Arson then? That seems to be more your speed.”
Dabi offers you a lazy smile. “Arson’s fine.”
“Mmm, nice,” your side throbs and you wince. “Well? Hero barbecue tonight? ‘M sure the League would love that.”
Your comment goes ignored. “It’s nice to see you again, little hero. Rough night?”
“Weren’t you taught not to play with your food?”
He shrugs, rocking on his heels like he’s having fun with you. “I could’ve killed you the last…” he stops, pretending to think. He makes a show of counting on his fingers before he invades your space, grin morphing into a smirk. “Three times we’ve met like this. Don’tcha think I would’ve done it by now?”
You groan, head lolling back until it makes contact with brick. “Touché.”
“Who did this to you anyway?” Dabi punctuates the question with a curious prod at your thigh. You slap his hand away with a hiss, and when you do, he’s quick to switch focus. Not one to be deterred, his hand moves to grip your chin, tilting your head to one side and then the other, eyeing you carefully as if he’s looking for something. You let him.
“Some criminal we’ve been after for the last few weeks. Serial murderer, all around bad person. The usual. Pretty nasty quirk, too.” You bite back a smile. “You know him?”
“Sounds like me.”
“Ha ha. Very funny.”
He leans closer, hand stilling along your jaw. “I could find out for you, but it’ll cost ya.”
The offer hangs heavy in the air. He looks so honest, so earnest despite the smirk that sits on his lips and the teasing glint in the turquoise of his eyes, that you feel a tug in your ribcage. You want to take the bait. You shake your head to remind yourself that this is probably exactly what he wants — some hero like you to owe him a favor so he can exploit you later. A win-win for him and, ultimately, a crash and burn, win-lose for you. You humor it, though, if only to see what that cost is.
“Oh yeah? What do you want?”
A hum, and then silence. Your heart leaps into your throat, goosebumps rising across your flesh as Dabi shrinks the gap, closer now than he’s ever been. So close you can feel the movement of air with every exhale, can smell the cigarette smoke and cheap whiskey that cling to his clothes, his breath. If he’s trying to do what you think, you’re not sure you’ll have the strength to stop him. Realization sits heavy on your chest as your hand curls around the collar of his leather coat — you don’t want to stop him.
His lips are a hair’s breadth from yours, one tiny push would be all it takes to finally connect them, when he pauses. You feel his lips quirk up. A ghost of a smile. Dabi chuckles somewhere deep in his chest, voice barely above a whisper as he tells you, “I don’t know if you can afford it, little hero.”
You don’t know if you can either, but the heat settling in your cheeks and the half-lidded gaze staring back at you is enough to make you want to try. Anything to close that gap. And still, you can’t bring yourself to move, to even speak. You must look like a deer in headlights as Dabi’s eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips.
With the words caught in your throat, Dabi takes the opportunity to break the silence. “How ‘bout this, sweet thing,” he croons, hunching closer so his lips brush against the shell of your ear. “You go home, lick your wounds in your pretty little penthouse apartment, and I’ll take care of the dirty work, hmm?” He presses a featherlight kiss to the space beneath your ear. “He’ll never touch you again.”
His palm cups the curve of your jaw, fingers brushing against the baby hairs at the nape of your neck. “And next time, when you’re feelin’ better, then we’ll talk about…” He pauses to bring his lips close to yours again, scarred skin hovering over your mouth, but never quite touching. He’s teasing. “... this. How does that sound?”
Next time. The phrase rings in your ears, and you’re sure it’s more than your injuries that are making you dizzy. It sounds good, really good, but the voice in the back of your head screams as you think it over. This is dangerous. It’s bad enough you’ve met him more than once and have only half-heartedly tried to restrain him one time, but now you find yourself dancing in a moral gray area, hand-in-hand with one of Japan’s most wanted criminals.
You chuckle, little more than a weak exhale that sends a splinter of pain shooting between your ribs. Your hand doesn’t move from the collar of his jacket. The dance continues. “I don’t know if I can really condone the whole murder part of that plan.”
Dabi laughs and pulls away, thumbing at your jaw before finally dropping his hand. “You heroes and your damn moral compasses.” A smirk follows a beat of silence. “But the other part you’re okay with?”
“Mmm,” you hum, eyes shut and teeth clenched. “Ask me next time.”
Next time. You’ve sealed your fate with one simple phrase. A promise written in the air between you.
Dabi scoffs, but his smirk doesn’t falter. “You’re certainly something, little hero.”
He eyes you again, though you don’t see it. A look mirroring care, concern, crosses his features as he takes in the hole in your hero costume, exposing a mess of crimson that mingles with black and blue. Blood pools beneath your thigh. He could kill you. You’ve laid yourself bare for him, injured and alone. Too trusting. All it would take is a flicker of his quirk and there’d be one less hero running around, one less loose end to worry about. But as he crouches in front of you, he can’t bring himself to do it.
He’ll let himself stew about all of these bullshit emotions later, but for now, he moves to stand, holding an open palm to you. You blink up at him dumbly when you drag your eyes open, and he sighs, pretending to be exasperated. “What? You wanna sit here in the trash all night?”
“Hey,” you moan teasingly, dropping your hand in his. “These trash bags are actually quite comfy, given the circumstances.”
“Just,” he rolls his eyes and pulls you to your feet as gingerly as he can. When he gets you standing, he takes your weight, wrapping his arm around your waist. He’s careful to watch the wound in your side. “Shut up already.”
As he guides you to the mouth of the alley, he continues, “Your friends make a habit of leaving you behind?”
“Solo job tonight,” you suck air through your teeth as another wave of pain rolls through your muscles. “No one to leave me behind.”
“Just our luck then, huh?”
Your arm curls a little tighter around his shoulders. “Just our luck.”
Dabi shoots a look up and down the street, and once the coast is clear, guides you over to a bench on the sidewalk. His arm lingers around your waist for a moment, warm palm pressed into the curve of your hip. Hesitant.
After a beat, two beats, he lowers you onto the bench, and without so much as another glance, turns heel down the sidewalk and disappears into the shadows again.
“See you around, little hero.”
Everything hurts and the smell of blood hangs in the air as you sit on that steel bench, letting the chill of the metal seep into your tired muscles. You pray that it steals the warmth that Dabi has left in his wake. Your fingers shake as you pull out your phone to call for an ambulance, a feeling stirring somewhere deep in the pit of your stomach.
Tipping your chin up to the sky, you watch as your exhale creates a fleeting, misty cloud in the cool night air. “God, I really hate Mondays.”
Given your injuries, it’s easy to talk your agency into giving you the time you need to recover, and you relish in it. Days off are rare, rarer still as a pro, so you spend them lazing around your apartment and nursing yourself back to health — just as Dabi suggested. On this particular day, your movements are slow, lazy as you make your way to the kitchen. In your haze, you almost don’t notice the single red rose sitting on your counter, a note tucked gently under its petals.
“You’re welcome.”
Though you’ve never seen it before, you know that handwriting as if it’s your own, and without a second thought you scramble towards your living room, practically falling over yourself to turn on the news. Has the story even broken yet? Who knows about this? Just you… and Dabi?
They cycle through a few other stories and you bite at the skin of your lip until a familiar face flashes on screen. Your mouth hangs agape, heart thundering against your ribcage and pounding in your ears as the news anchor describes the warehouse fire that killed the fucker your agency had been chasing, the one that had left you in that alley last week. No one knows how the fire began, she explains.
But you know. The note, your gut, tells you as much.
The rest of the report falls on deaf ears as you sit frozen on your sofa — rose hanging from your fingers, tea kettle whistling on the stove.
Despite the myriad of unanswered questions that itch at your skin, you know four things with certainty. First, Dabi, despite having ample opportunity, has not tried to kill you. Second, he definitely killed that guy on your behalf. Third, he knows where you live.
And above all else, you’re undeniably, irreversibly fucked.
#dabi x reader#dabi imagine#touya todoroki x reader#touya todoroki imagine#touya x reader#touya imagine#bnha x reader#bnha imagine#mha x reader#mha imagine
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THE BOY WHO GOT MISUNDERSTOOD || JUNG WOOYOUNG
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut
Pairing: Wooyoung x Fem reader
Word Count: 2.3K
Tags/Warnings: College AU, Several Mental health issues (Mentions of Depression, ED, SH, Su*c*dal tendencies > Please do not read if you are too sensitive for these topics and seek help if you suffer from these ❤️), bullying, unprotected sex, fluffy sex, virgin!Wooyoung, handjob, fingering, tiny bit of orgasm denial
Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @lemonhongjoong @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @1-800-shedevil @glintneon123
ENJOY!
They acted like he was a danger to society. All of them. You never really understood why, but that's the way it simply was at Samson University. Even the principle, grandson of the university's founder, mr. Samson didn't like to get close to him.
No one did.
The boy was in your class this year and somehow he fascinated you. He wore big baggy clothes all the time, usually they were black but once in a while he wore this big Red hoodie. It seemed to be his favourite. You wondered what he looked like in lighter clothes.
He bit on the end of his pen, a nervous habit of his. He nearly chewed off a dozen pens in only two months time. His legs bounced often and he twisted his rings a lot. Anxiety? Maybe.
A lot of people gossiped about him. Technically, 95% of the university gossiped about him. The other 5% were too wasted to even think. They said he was dangerous, cursed even. That he'd have magical powers that he used for evil causes; black magic.
"Have you heard about the unconcious girls found near the dumpsters? Must've been that creep."
Another story came to life in the back of the classroom. You slightly turned your head to see Elsie and Lando gossiping, again. They were your friends but you didn't always agree with them.
Mr. Patterson stood in front of the class and shushed them, even though he snickered a little bit. You swore you could see Wooyoung shrink with every snarky comment coming at him.
You couldn't believe someone so beautiful could ever cause any harm. He has deep brown eyes that seemingly hold the universe. His jaw is sharp, probably after weight-loss. He was chubbier when he arrived here. His nose is quite prominent, you liked it.
"Do you think he ever killed someone?" Elsie giggled from behind you. You glared at her, sighing deeply. "Elsie, you cannot just go around and say stuff like that, you know nothing about him."
"Oh, look who's a saint now. Why do you care, Y/N? It's just a little creep. I heard he-"
"Elsie, I don't wanna hear it," you sighed as you turned back. You locked eyes with Wooyoung for a split second. His eyes are so kind.
He looked away again, as mr. Patterson dismissed the class. You walked out first, pissed off at Elsie and everyone else who was being unfair to him. Were you blind? Stupid? Why couldn't you see it?
You saw him walking back to campus later that day. He looked like he was shaking. Maybe he was crying. Your feet froze, even when you wanted to be open-minded, you remembered the things Elsie said earlier. Maybe he was dangerous.
•
•
"Does anyone know the answer to question 4B?" Mrs. Milburn asked, looking into the class. Only Wooyoung raised his hand. "No one? Has no one studied at all?" She asked, disappointed and ignoring Wooyoung.
Wooyoung sighed and kept his hand up. "Mrs. Milburn. I am right here," he spoke. She didn't reply. He got up from his seat and stood in front of her, but mrs. Milburn backed away.
The whole class let out an 'ooh', maybe a few distant giggles, but you felt your heart sting. But it was so hard to step up and do something when your opinion was different from the others'.
"No one else has hair like that, you freak, you're probably gonna go back to the dumpsters again and hurt a few more students," Vince yelled from the back of the class. You saw something crack in Wooyoung's eyes this time.
The rest of that week he didn't show up in class.
It seemed like you were the only sane one, the only one who wondered where he went, why he had the blonde in his hair, like no one else. If he says he didn't dye it, would it be magic?
The week after that he showed up again, eyebags bigger than usual. He had the red hoodie on and you smiled softly. His gaze met yours from across the room but he froze when he saw your smile. You felt confused as he quickly made his way to the bathroom. Did you do something wrong?
Wooyoung got in trouble again the next day, the principal called him out on his hair, saying he shouldn't go around wearing that ridiculous color. Wooyoung tried to explain he couldn't help it, he was born with it and he couldn't dye it due to his sensitive scalp and his allergies.
You felt for him as all the people laughed at him, didn't understand him. Was he speaking the truth? Who was he? Was he the scary boy who had secret powers, or just an ordinary boy with a little genetic fault?
•
•
On Friday there was a party at someone's house; Cameron's parents were out so he invited the entire year to come party. You were there as Elsie had dragged you along. You kind of hoped Wooyoung would be there, just maybe.
And apparently he was, as chaos arose as he was acknowledged. "Get out you freak, you don't belong here!" People yelled. Girls screamed, running to their boyfriends. Wooyoung froze again. His eyes no longer sad, but just empty.
Wooyoung ran away, and as the others continued partying you followed him. He walked into the huge backyard and stood in front of the pool. You frowned as you got closer. Suddenly he jumped in there and you waited for him to come to the surface again.
Seconds passed and Wooyoung didn't resurface, and when you saw Wooyoung resisting gravity you didn't waste any more time and you jumped in, taking a hold of his waist and pulling him up with ease. The boy was light like air.
He panted and coughed as you helped him on the edge. "What are you doing? What do you want from me?!" He yelled. "I'm not gonna let you drown yourself, Wooyoung!"
"I-I wasn't, I was just... I wanted to escap- Did you say my name?" "Yes... Why?" "Nobody says my name," he whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't stand up for you when..."
"But you did... You're the only one who came even close to standing up for me... Or is this all an act? Are you trying to tempt me into hurting you like I supposedly did to the other girls?" He scoffed.
"No, no, Wooyoung. Please, hey let me take you home, get you some clean, dry clothes. Can I call anyone? Your parents? Siblings?"
"I only have my mom, I don't live with her," he explained. You sat next to him and laid your hand on his shoulder. "Can we still call her?" You asked gently.
"She's dying, Y/N, she suffers from Dementia and she's way too fucking young. Anyway, it doesn't matter. She doesn't recognize me and I scare her. So technically I am alone."
You felt your heart ache for him. "Come with me," you spoke. You stood up and reached out your hand. Wooyoung hesitated but took your hand in his. Before getting in your car you stole towels from Cameron's bathroom which you put on the carseats.
After a few minutes you arrived at your aunt's house. "I have the key to my aunt's house, she's on holiday and I'm babysitting her cats Mac and Whopper."
"Aren't those burgers?" Wooyoung asked as you got into the house. "Yep, she has an unhealthy obsession with them."
You ran upstairs to get some clothes from your uncle and you gave them to Wooyoung. He got dressed in the bathroom as you changed into your aunt's clothes in her bedroom.
Downstairs you made him tea and brought him food and a blanket. "Why are you doing this?" He asked, on the verge of tears. "Because I think you get unneccesary hate, it's nonsense. I know I haven't exactly done nothing so I'm not a saint but... I believe you."
"But you'll lose your friends if you're nice to me. Everyone will think you're crazy." "Then I'll be crazy," you smiled softly. "I can't let you do that, Y/N, I'm not that important. I'm just a freak."
You slightly brushed your fingers through his hair, stroking the blondes. They felt regular. He was just like everybody else. You smiled, but Wooyoung was crying as you touched his hair.
You took him in your arms and let him cry, cry out heavily, and you cried with him. "Nobody wants me, I could easily die, no one would miss me, no one. It's just hair! Why do they think I'm a freak? All those crimes happening... that isn't me!" He protested.
Nodding, you pulled him in even closer. "I know, I know, they're not making any sense. But I don't want you to die," you spoke gently. "I'll be there."
You held him as he slowly calmed down. You noticed he hesitated to eat. "Do you have an ED, Wooyoung?" You softly spoke, trying not to trigger him. Wooyoung fell silent, and it was enough to answer your question.
"Do you think you could take one bite?" You suggested, still holding him. "There's no point in it, I'm gonna die anyway." "Someday, when you're old, but not now. You're gonna live. Let's live, Wooyoung," you smiled.
•
•
You kept it on the low at first, your contact with Wooyoung. He scared easily and you didn't wanna lose your status at school like that. Yet you hung out with him all the time after classes, learning about each others' stories.
"You know that I've never had sex before because everyone thinks I'm dangerous?" Wooyoung confessed. You smiled gently and brushed your fingers through his hair. "Do you want to change that?" You grinned.
Wooyoung blushed. "I do, but I'm too full of scars, Y/N, no one could love me when I look like this," he sighed, "but I'm just a boy. I get feelings, I get excited, just sometimes."
Gently, you reached for the zipper of his hoodie, slowly bringing it down. "W-Wh-What are you doing?" He protested, covering himself up immediately, but you had already seen it. The boy was skinny and his arms were wounded, partly wrapped up in bandages.
"I'll love you no matter what you look like, Wooyoung," you confessed. You locked eyes and immediately knew. Wooyoung was putty in your hands.
Your lips collided and bodies intertwined as you made out with him. A tear fell down his cheek but he persevered, finally feeling loved, finally feeling embraced, finally feeling understood.
You brought him to your room and you undressed each other and laid naked in your bed. "May I touch you, Wooyoung?" You asked, and he nodded.
Your hand slowly wrapped around the base of his hardened cock. His body tensed when your thumb touched his sensitive slit. "Try to relax, try to let go, sweetheart," you cooed. You slowly pumped his cock up and down and he let out the most beautiful moans. As you sped up his moans grew louder, and you loved how vocal he was.
His cock was beautiful and thick, veins running from the base all the way to the tip. "You're so gorgeous Wooyoung, you're so loveable," you spoke as you moved your hand faster.
Wooyoung's moans got whinier, louder and he squirmed, signalling you that he was close to orgasming. You stopped and brought his hand to your pussy. You guided two of his fingers inside you, breathing heavily.
His fingers were long and skillful, picking up the things you liked right away. "Yes, yes just like that, curl them- Yes! Right there," you moaned, throwing your head back. Wooyoung's fingers sped up and hit your favourite spots repeatedly, making you moan out his name.
"That's so good baby, yes, yes, I fucking love that, keep going, keep going!" You cried out. Wooyoung panted and looked at you in awe as he watched you slowly unravel on his fingers. Just as you're about to cum you stopped him, sinking down on his rigid cock.
You moaned loudly and arched your back as you rode him, his hands sliding from your hips to your thighs. Your moans collided, creating a beautiful melody.
"Wooyoung, Wooyoung," you moaned, chanting his name over and over again. "Y/N, please! Please, I'm gonna cum!" He cried, body shaking ever so slightly, cock twitching inside you.
Before you could say anything he burst, cumming deep inside you and filling you up. You moaned, being send over the edge. You clenched on his cock as you came hard, orgasm taking over your body and mind.
You collapsed on Wooyoung's chest and he held you. You held each other, until the sun set that day.
•
•
As soon as you publicly showed your support and attention for Wooyoung, you were an outcast. Everyone thought he either kidnapped you and threathened you or he used his 'black magic' on you.
Now you were bullied as well and Elsie and Lando had completely turned their backs on you. Wooyoung and you were alone in this world.
You sat in a field on a Saturday in June. The sun was slowly turning the sky orange as it dropped lower and lower.
"Why don't we run?" Wooyoung asked you, taking your hand. "Run?" "We could run, we could travel the world, start somewhere new, somewhere we'll be accepted, somewhere we'll be loved," Wooyoung spoke as he caressed your cheek.
You smiled and looked at him. His smile was bigger than ever and he was dressed in white and blue, bringing out his beautiful skintone. He was lighter, enlightened even.
"You want to run with me?" "Let's leave everything behind, run into the unknown," Wooyoung smiled, "I am finally happier, now that I have you. I am not afraid, I do not wanna hurt myself any longer, I won't wear black, I'll be happy, and free!" Wooyoung exclaimed.
You laughed and took his hands. "Where do we go?" "Where the sun leads us, Y/N," Wooyoung smiled. And you knew, you'd be fine with him.
Your special boy. No longer misunderstood.
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LIST OF MONSTERS/CREATURES FOR PUNCH OUT
Someone said I should post the list. I know it was one person but I wanna do it. I’ll also make concepts for their contender and TD matches (I only have joes which I’ll probably put here)
MINOR CIRCUIT
Glass Joe- originally was the only other human. Got turned into a vampire after trying to help someone near an alleyway. Woke up in the dumpster and still trying to adapt. Unfortunately never told his doctor about his predicament (he has woken up in the morgue multiple times).
Von Kaiser- a monster similar to Frankenstein monster. Some scientists wanted to create a boxer using the body parts of some of the best boxers they knew. Unfortunately the product did not meet their expectations and is sitting comfortably down in the minor circuit.
Disco Kid- a friendly zombie who recently rose from its grave. No memory of his life but recently rediscovered boxing, disco, and Micheal Jackson. Managed to be so inspired by thriller he likes to break it down right there in the ring. He’s a bit stiff but he’s still got that spirit in him.
King Hippo- nobody really knows why he came from the sea to land JUST to box. Maybe someone threw an old poster into the ocean and made its way to him. This sea beast may not speak any human language but he sure knows how to throw a punch. Stole clothes from a drowned sailor however the pants are a bit loose even on him.
MAJOR CIRCUIT
Piston Hondo- some people mistake this spirit for a yokai, however he’s just a regular looking ghost. In his life he was an excellent boxer. Most knew his training methods were extreme but nobody ever thought that he’d take “train til you drop dead” a little too seriously. Still he manages to haunt the WVBA determined to keep boxing.
Bear Hugger- he may seem like a human at first but there’s always that one day most people avoid taking a match with him. From evening to morning on a full moon is when his schedule is almost always free. Most people don’t want to get clawed by a werewolf but there have been a few who tried…let’s just say the results in the hospital weren’t pretty. (NOTE: despite the species rivalry, he’s actually pretty good friends with Joe. Being someone who was a human himself he tries his best to give as many tips as he can to adapt)
Great Tiger- a genie who tricked its master into freeing him, tiger now spends his freedom here in the WVBA. He never gives a straight answer for why he wanted to spend his free time here of all places but hey he’s happy at least. Enjoys human opponents the most since they’re the most easy to mess with.
Don Flamenco- did he come from outer space? Was he given a little too much fertilizer? Or perhaps he is just a nymph who lied about his origin. Don was a rose who somehow gained sentience and has taken a more humanoid form. The best way to find out how to be more human to him? Well boxing of course! This plant somehow even got himself a girlfriend but who could resist the passion of a rose?…he may be carnivorous though so watch your back.
WORLD CIRCUIT
Aran Ryan- with Joe now being a vampire, Aran has taken the place as the only human contender in the WVBA…at least before Mac joined. Despite this he seems just as freaky as the others. His superstition keeps him from bonding with the other boxers and maybe even some humans that occasionally join. He gets a little…paranoid.
Soda Popinski- Seeing an advertisement on the WVBA, this abominable snowman quickly left home to check it out. Coming out from his home, he quickly discovered his love for boxing and sugary sodas. It’s however too hot for him to look presentable so all he wears most times is a speedo.
Bald Bull- A Minotaur who’s been at the WVBA for what seems to be forever…at least to most people here. Some don’t even know when he joined and others never bothered to ask. Only exception is doc but he never seems to want to talk about it. He tends to enjoy time alone so best not to bother him or else you might find a horn in your chest.
Super Macho Man- Most people have to avoid being in the front of him and sometimes the sides due to one of his so called signature moves. Macho is a trans gorgon who thought that going into a sport involving punching one’s face was a good idea. You really couldn’t afford his sunglasses although best not to break them. You could end up cold as stone if you do. Where do you think all those decorative statues came from?
Sandman- not much is known about his species but he claims to be something called a dreamcatcher. A creature who can manifest dreams into reality. Nobody knew about it before he came along but what does matter is he seems friendly enough and has even taken a liking to that Gorgon just below his rank (SURPRISE SUPERSAND RAAAAAAH sorry. Also credits to @wvbaandtheboys for making the species/creature I used)
Okay that’s all also I’ll probably also make tempered glass for this. Why? Cause I can and I like the ship so I have to feed myself somehow. Also here’s the concept for joes contender and TD.
Contender- Mac got lucky and doc managed to talk Joe into a day match. A good beginning for someone’s career for Joe is a bit sluggish and looking like he’s on the verge of passing out. He may not burn up in the sun but it sure does exhaust him. Constantly drinking a mysteriously red substance during intermission.
Title defense- His poor unassuming doctor can’t understand how Joe keeps coming back from the dead. His vitals are all off but Joe insists it’s just a cold. His doctor decided to put him on a different diet to help him be healthier and maybe put some weight on those bones of his…unfortunately the doctor gave Joe a not so vampire friendly diet and Joe as slowly gone in a more crazed state from it. For the safety of the other boxers, the WVBA graciously gave Joe a makeshift muzzle from a helmet and something attached. He’s faster and more unpredictable in this state and will try and lunge at opponents to get something in his starving state. Not even the sun can stop him from getting a meal but hey the helmet protects his head at least! Just…try not too hit it too hard or that piece covering his mouth might detach.
#punch out#punch out wii#punch out!!#punch out au#glass joe#von kaiser#disco kid#king hippo#piston hondo#bear hugger#great tiger#don flamenco#aran ryan#soda popinski#bald bull#super macho man#mr sandman#mr sandman punch out#surprise supersand#monster au
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Stormy Weather (Daredevil fic)
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader
Word Count: 726
Summary: It was a dark and stormy night when Matt returns home with a surprising rescue.
Warnings: Referenced missing child, referenced animal abuse, character experiencing mild hypothermia.
Once again, this for Mandy's Sweater Weather Writing Challenge since that prompt list has really inspired the muses. In this case, the prompt is "Get inside, you're all wet."
Tagging @she-likesorchids because this was inspired by her challenge and prompt list as well as @bellaxgiornata since you seem to be having a rough day (week) and it sounded like you needed some fluff.
Stormy Weather
by Shiori_Makiba
You were worried.
Granted you were always a little worried about Matt while he was out. Being Daredevil, after all, was dangerous. But right now you were feeling especially worried.
An hour ago, it had started to rain. No big deal, you had thought. It wasn’t the first time it had rained while Matt was out. It wouldn’t be the last. Besides, it was just a little drizzle and the suit was fairly water resistant.
It hadn’t stayed a drizzle for long. It had grown and grown until it was storm. A bad one. Rain was pounding down on the roof like a drum while the howling wind rattled the windows. Lightning raced across the skies, chased by deafening roars of thunder. So far the power has holding it but it had flickered more than once.
And Matt still wasn’t home. He had never stayed out in weather like this for so long. It was too dangerous. He had told you once that big thunderstorms didn’t play well with his senses. So why wasn’t he home?
You paced and fretted as scenario after scenario played across your mind, each one each worse than the last.
The storm was so loud that it took you a minute to realize that thumping sound you were hearing wasn’t part of it. Once you did, you also realized where it was coming from. The roof access door.
You raced up the stairs. And discovered that the door got stuck when it was this wet. It took considerable amount of force and a lot of swearing to get it unstuck. And standing there in the pouring rain was Matt, his arms filled . . .
“Are those kittens?” you asked, shocked.
“Yes,” he said. While part of you wanted to know what he was doing with an armload of kittens, the rest of your mind had more pressing concerns. Like the fact that he looked thoroughly soaked and was probably freezing.
“Get inside, you’re all wet,” you said, moving to the side so he could get by. Which he did, immediately heading down the stairs and toward the bathroom. You followed, trying to avoid stepping in the puddles of water he left his wake with your sock-clad feet.
Through he was shivering and his teeth were chattering, Matt was more concerned with the kittens’ welfare than his own. Which didn’t surprise you at all. Deep inside the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was made out of marshmallow fluff. And in fairness to Matt, their little meows were rather heartbreaking.
Only your promise to tend to the kittens got Matt to start removing his wet suit in favor of warm, dry clothes. While he did, he explained how he had found them. When the weather had turned nasty, he had started to head home but heard a set of parents frantically calling for their son, a toddler who had somehow managed to get himself out of their apartment. Matt had found the little boy hiding behind a dumpster. Who, at first, was too frightened of the storm to come out but eventually Matt managed to coax him out and get him back to his parents, cold and wet but otherwise unharmed.
Given the lightning, Matt had opted to make most of the trip home on the ground. And in alley not far from his apartment, he found the kittens. Who had been literally thrown away in the dumpster. Normally he would take them to the one of the shelters or vet clinics he knew was open at night but given the weather, he opted to take them home instead. You knew the rest.
Half an hour later found you and Matt were curled up on the couch under a blanket, sipping apple cider while the five kittens slept in a nest of blankets and your heating pad on the coffee table. In the morning, you would take the kittens to the shelter or contact your friend who did cat fostering to see if she knew anyone who could take them.
You tried to feel disappointed about that. It was hard. They were so cute and so small, it was hard not to fall in love with them. But there was no way Matt would agree to keep five cats . . .
But surely you could talk him into one . . .
End Note
In the US, apple cider usually means the non-alcoholic version and is called hard cider when its not. In this case, served warm and sweetened with honey to help Matty recover from his mild hypothermia.
It is not recommended to give alcohol or caffeine to someone with hypothermia.
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a/n - Hey guys! This is my first fic so im hoping to get some grace on how awful it probably is. I wanted to put this out for spooky season. This is chapter 1 and I'll put out more if it anyone is interested in that.
Warnings: violence, angst, maybe some slight gore?
Biggest thank you to @takenbythemadness and @writingcold for gently bullying me into putting this out! Love you both so much!
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“It’s fine. Fine. Everything’s fine.”
I feel sick. I feel weak. I’m in shock. Yeah, that’s what it is. Shock.
“It was an accident.”
I continue to repeat this in my head, as if it were a mantra. I quickly weave through the dark alleys. I must avoid being seen. I must steer clear of the main roads.
“He was going to kill her.”
I can’t stop the images of what he was doing to her. This woman I didn’t know. This woman I stumbled upon.
“He was going to kill me.”
Everything was moving too fast and yet, as it replayed in my mind, it seemed so slow. Could I have stopped? Did it have to go this far?
“I had no choice.”
That’s what I must keep telling myself. I can’t think of anything else. Self-preservation is key at this point.
“He deserved it.”
I can feel it soaking through. They’re starting to cling to me, the evening air turning the blood-soaked clothing cold and sticky against my skin. I fear I will vomit but I force myself to think of anything else. I’ve seen enough documentaries to know that if I do, this all will be traced back to me.
All I wanted was to go for a walk to clear my head. My twin and I had just been in another spat, over God-knows-what. I can’t even begin to try to remember. It had been unusually cold this night. Walking by a block of bars, I heard it. I heard her. An ear-piercing scream. I ran, searching for the voice of a woman who was so clearly in distress. The voice became clearer as I ran through a small ally between two of the bars. Behind the buildings was a scene I will never forget. A dim light from the back door of the bar illuminated a small woman, cowering in a fetal position on the ground next to the dumpsters. A man, I could only assume was her boyfriend, kicking her repeatedly. Blow after blow, it seemed he would never stop.
“STOP! FUCKING STOP!”, I shouted at him. He halted and turned toward me. Thankfully, the poor woman stood and ran as fast as she could in the other direction. This man was massive. The sheer terror that I felt caused a shudder to rip right through me. The man slowly stalked toward me. “Who the fuck are you? One of that whore’s little boyfriends?” He spat lowly.
What? It’s one of these situations? Jesus Christ.
“No, you fucking dimwit. I’m just a man who won’t stand by while you bring a woman to near death.”
I can’t believe these words are coming from my mouth. I’m fucking terrified. This guy’s definitely going to kick my ass.
Without a pause, He slammed his fist into my shoulder. “You don’t want to fuck with me, pretty boy.” He rasped.
I staggered backward, damn near falling on my ass. Despite this, I managed to straighten my body in an attempt to look intimidating.
I closed my eyes and did my best to swing but the only thing I felt was my knuckles catching nothing as they swished past his nose.
Open your eyes, you fucking idiot!
Before I could open them, he slammed me to the ground. I groaned gruffly and tried to stand but he had me pinned. My mouth quickly filled with blood after he began punching me. I felt the world slipping away as his hands grasped my throat. All I could focus on was that same dim light that exposed the woman who brought me to this mess but even that began to fade.
You’ve got to make it out of this. You’ve got to survive. Come on, man, do something!
Grasping at the ground around me, my right hand connected to something large, and I swung as quickly and as hard as I could.
I heard a soft “Oomph” as his body slumped over me. The weight of his body felt like it was crushing mine. I managed to push his limp body off me and began to straddle him across his chest. Rage flowed through me as I repeatedly slammed the rock down onto his skull. I felt his blood splash on me and although he had stopped moving long before, I worried that if I stopped, he would come to and finish me.
Exhaustion is the only thing that stopped me. I was in a daze as I slowly stood up and began to walk away. I managed to snap out of it halfway down the block when I started maneuvering through the alleyways.
I wince walking up the stairs to my porch from the bruises I can feel forming on my ribs. I’m disoriented. I double over, hardly able to catch my breath. I’m so tired but this isn’t over. I must keep moving. I can’t be stupid about this.
Making myself consciously aware of every move I make, I stop just outside my front door and carefully remove my shoes.
I try not to touch anything as I make my way through the house. I need to try to avoid leaving streaks of his blood in a path along the way.
For a split second I think about putting my clothes in the washer, but I remember this could leave too much evidence. I decide to gently place them in a trash bag until the morning when I can think of a better plan.
I walk to my bathroom to wash the blood off my body but catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I feel a strange sensation in the pit of my stomach, and I can’t quite place the emotion that I’m feeling.
Cocking my head to the side, I notice a bright red bead rolling down my abdomen. I run my finger across it, bringing it up to get a closer look. How curious this feeling is. Is it apathy?
I turn on the shower to as hot as I can stand it. I must admit, I’ve always enjoyed the pain of a scalding shower. I stand there, attempting to place this odd sensation. It surely isn’t remorse.
I can hear the faint hum of my phone in another room. I know who the cause of it is, but I can’t bring myself to care at this moment. I can’t keep my mind from wandering back to what had just transpired.
Who could blame me for what he had done to her? He deserved to die. He deserved to feel suffering at the hand of another. Just as he had done to the one he should have loved.
I should want to forget this happened, right? I should be panicking, right? Why do I feel good about what I’ve done?
Watching the red water circle the drain, it finally clicks.
I feel exhilarated.
The water begins to run cold, forcing me out. I dry and dress myself, glancing around to confirm I have left no trace of him behind before leaving the room.
Returning to the living room, I make a bee line for the bar cart. I grab a whiskey glass and fill it almost entirely to the brim.
Hearing my phone buzzing once more, I decide to answer.
“Dude, you disappeared like two hours ago. I’ve called you 5 times. What the hell have you been doing?”
“Sorry…I just went on a walk to clear my head.”
It’s not a lie, really. I’ll just spare him the rest…
“Listen, we really need to talk this out. You’re my brother. My twin. I hate fighting over stupid shit. Can I come over?”
Fuck.
“Uh, not right now. I really just need to go to sleep. Can we do this in the morning?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. Hey, man…Are you feeling alright? You sound really out of it.”
“Jesus, YES!” I snapped, instantly feeling regret. “I’m sorry. I just really need to get some sleep. I’ll just see you tomorrow, yeah?”
“Yeah, get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, Josh”.
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Random training mode bits about the player in relation to the 'bot' team
You don't actually live on base with your team. After the day's fighting is over, you just suddenly disappear. Sometimes for days, months or even years, until you suddenly come back to fight during setup. Spy once tried to follow you. He doesn't talk about what he saw.
Sometimes when you come back, your outfit changes. You go from wearing nothing but the standard uniform, to wearing a hat you probably got from the dumpster, to having a hat that is somehow casting a cloud over it? And it's raining snowflakes on you? Medic and Engineer have tried to study it but it's like your hat is glued to your head and it won't come off. They've given up on it, but sometimes they're concerned you'll get sick from it.
The only person you ever directly interact with is Medic, and that's to thank him after he heals you. He brags about this to everybody and says that if even you can be polite and grateful, then the rest of the team damn sure can too.
Your team often tries to talk to you, but you never seem to understand. You look at them, but aside from your eyes following them, your expression is completely blank and you never directly reply. They continue regardless.
You have a limited vocabulary that they've placed into different categories (voice commands). Rarely you say something that deviates from this but it is often in single letters or swears. Spy has tried to decipher what they mean but nothing makes sense.
Your voice is whatever class you're on. The only person who's heard your 'real' voice was Scout, who heard you speak through his headphones. He always talks about it but nobody believes him.
Sometimes you show up in a different class and body. The way they know it's you is because you never quite look right. The majority of the team hate seeing you wearing their body and most will avoid you like the plague until you change.
Sometimes they give you items to differentiate yourself or to hide your face. Sometimes you put these things on. Sometimes you scrap them and turn them into other hats or weapons. Sometimes you just throw them away.
You do not die right. The only thing that can kill you immediately is a headshot or backstab. Everything else you live through, even when your clothes are soaked with blood and you are barely breathing, you never stop until your body literally drops.
You show up to every Smissmas Party and even give people gifts. It's always something manufactured by Mann.co, weapons and hats. You don't seem to care who you are giving it to (you once gave Sniper a wrench and Medic a can of BONK!) as long as you are giving something. You never open the presents they give you unless they stick it in a sock with a candy cane. You never eat the candy cane. You never eat anything.
Sometimes you just stop. In the middle of battle or standing in spawn, you just stop and stand there, breathing in your perfectly controlled way. You don't even react when you're being attacked, you just stand there, bleeding and staring without acknowledgement. Sometimes the team makes sure you stay safe by standing guard or moving the fight further up to leave you alone. You can stand still for days at a time.
You always find the team. It doesn't matter where they are, if you left them in Junction and they've moved onto Dustbowl, you will always find them. You will come back from wherever you've been, wearing a different hat or the same one you wore 3 years ago, and you will settle yourself in line with the team, and they will greet you and you will say nothing back.
#tf2#team fortress 2#tf2 offline mode#tf2 training mode#tf2 medic#engineer tf2#i suppose#tf2 fanfiction#tf2 bots#training mode au#offline au#all of these bits are tied to what you can do in game :]#i just like putting stuff down#nomi writes
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@riaxnunez
These past two weeks, especially, had been an absolute wild ride. Not in any good way, either, but who was keeping track of that? Somehow, he managed to alienate half the people known to him, and the other half were either wrapped up in their own messes or simply waiting for him to show back up when he was ready to talk.
Jesse had certainly made a fucking dumpster fire mess of his life, lately. Now, to add on top of it, he was technically married.
After what felt like the tenth time he tossed or fidgeted in this unfamiliar and rather uncomfortable bed -- his back was used to the hard seat of the trailer's couch or that thin mattress in the bunk -- Jesse sat upright. Palms lightly dug into his eyes before he stared around bleakly. This wasn't his home, his room. He stuck out like a sore thumb. A pillow fortress had even been cut down the middle of the bed, to separate the two people that should have been sleeping there. Ria's side, however, was empty. Had she gone to sleep on the couch? Jesse had prepared to sleep on the couch himself, but it was her idea they could share the bed fine, so long as he kept his damn hands to himself and didn't get any funny ideas. Three months was a long time to spend uncomfortable on a couch, where any young pre-teen could stumble across the strange, unfamiliar man. In the end, it just seemed a better idea that he did stay in her room.
Bare feet touched the cold floor as Jesse scooted off bed and stood. Wide awake still, after three hours of laying there with thoughts. Jesse wore more clothes than he was used to -- a plain white t-shirt and some boxers -- for Ria's benefit than his own. He left the bedroom only to pause in the hallway, because there was some strange sounds from the kitchen. As Jesse followed it, he discovered where the young woman had gone to.
Ria sat at the table, and she was crying. Quietly, but the sniffles were a dead giveaway.
"What's wrong?" Jesse announced his presence with this question, coming forward to check on her. His voice kept low, however, so as not to wake her young siblings. He had a feeling that nobody, even himself, was really meant to find her this way.
It was probably a stupid question. Plenty was wrong, just with their situation alone. But theirs wasn't a permanent, life-ruining thing, right? Unless being shackled to him for three months was that unbearable for her. Jesse doubted he'd be so important a problem for her, though. They barely knew each other and were still in early stages of figuring out how to get on without going for throats. Besides... If either of them had something to complain about, Jesse felt more concessions had been forced on his side of the aisle than hers. The judge forced him to push into her life, because she had the kids here in this apartment and it was just him in the trailer. But -- they'd already had that argument, about who got it worse from their stupid mistake and well, they at least got to an 'agree-to-disagree' mindset. So again... Jesse doubted whatever troubled her now, had anything to do with their immature predicament.
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gemme a snippet of Coming Clean 👀 (if that is ok w u of course )
No prob! Been kicking around this particular one a lot, keep debating whether or not I should break it up into two. Especially seeing as it's at about 33 pages now and we're kind of midway through what I would consider the second part. Coming Clean's a follow up for a previous story, To Be Or Not To Be Dinner, which are both kind of meant to lead into a longer AU called Sing Together. Thing was that I haven't seen many stories about Whitty actually telling his friends Carol and Hex what's going on with his life. Especially since there is a fair amount going on, and a lot of weird habits that are probably going to get everyone's attention.
Got some of the opening under the cut!
He couldn’t say that he’d paid too much attention, and that was yet another mistake he’d made during this whole…thing. Not paying attention, not noticing how things were aligning until he’d been all but backed into a corner.
Except not really, because it was so stupid in retrospect. He’d gotten upset over a stupid, stupid kid’s movie, because he was a moron who’s emotions could be all over the place and wasn’t that just lovely, wasn’t it all just so damn great, why couldn’t you keep your stupid mess to yourself you walking WRECK—
…Well, either way. He should have known better.
It was an interesting thought to have in retrospect towards the very end of the movie, after watching this absolutely tiny, completely trusting mouse go through hell after hell to find his family, only to end up in an alleyway tearfully proclaiming that this was his home now—
—Whitty’s lungs were burning when he finally stopped, crouching behind a dumpster as he tried to get his air back. His clothes were in shambles, his old leather jacket a tattered wreck around his arms. The body had pretty much disintegrated after he’d crawled out of the smoldering remains of the building he’d-
Don’t think about it. You can’t do anything about it now, don’t think about it.
He called me a FAILURE, he told me to leave, I thought he cared! Didn’t he care at all?!
Don’t think about it.
Even with the mantra thumping away in his mind, Whitty couldn’t help a sob from coming up as he huddled there, feeling more alone than he’d ever had before. At least before, he hadn’t known what it was like to have something you cared about, to have people who cared for you.
Or at least, people who’d seemed like they cared…
Not that it mattered anyway. It was gone now. He was on his own.
It didn’t stop the crying, the gasping sobbing that felt less like tears and more like he was trying to flail away from that realization. That no one was coming. There wasn’t any rescue, YOU’RE ALL ALONE NOW AND IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT—
And it wasn’t helping how things were playing out on the screen, hitting Whitty with that gut-punch of familiar emotions, that horrible reminder, and then whisking it away by having that last minute save.
One that he’d never gotten to see.
Whitty couldn’t tell if his breathing was growing faster because he was upset or angry, but he’d clearly gotten someone’s attention given that the screen paused on that happy reunion, a soft call of his name coming from somewhere off to the side.
It could have been Hex, Carol, maybe even Sunday, weren’t they still in the house somewhere? Either way, Whitty didn’t answer and he didn’t let himself think. He just bolted to his feet and went right down the hall to the bathroom, throwing the door closed and leaning against it as he tried to breathe.
The light had been on already, the sight of himself in the mirror snapping Whitty out of his turbulent emotions better than a bucket of cold water to the face.
There were black tears forming in the corners of his eyes, a few spots already dotting the front of his shirt. He was shaking with how heavily he was breathing, his eyes wide and growing wider as he took in his current state.
And worse still, his wick was smoking.
Immediately Whitty reached behind his head, grasping and attempting to smother the brewing fire with his own hands. Though fire itself didn’t bother him, the somewhat metallic threads of the wick were searing enough that he quickly felt a flash of pain go through his fingers.
It didn’t help that not a second after he did that, someone knocked on the doorway. Before Whitty could stop himself a pained yelp tore through his throat, his body jolting itself to the side and right into the open shower. The bomb’s head cracked against the tile, the whole world turning incomprehensible as he slid down to sit on the cool plastic floor. Whitty could hear noise, a couple different voices talking outside before the telltale sound of the bathroom door opening made him jump out of his skin.
“Whitty? Are you okay?”
Hex?
The robot peeking around the corner did catch Whitty’s attention, and though he recognized Hex, the bomb still flinched away with a yelp as Hex tried to come closer. Immediately Hex stopped, though he knelt after a moment, not retreating as he spoke to Whitty.
“Whitty? It’s alright. It’s me. Hex. Remember?”
The bomb nodded, though he couldn’t stop a tremble from reverberating through his arms as he huddled in on himself. It still felt like the air was being sucked from the room, but there was a little bit of space. Enough that Whitty could tell his wick had stopped smoking, though he couldn’t say the same for his eyes tearing. He had to stop that, had to calm down…
“Here. Whitty, look at me. Just focus on me right now,” Hex murmured, a softer smile taking root over his screen as the bomb’s orange eyes zeroed in on the electronic display. The robot’s smile blinked away, becoming a glowing circle that softly swirled into existence, and then out, and then back in. It really only occurred to Whitty what was happening when he caught sight of a corresponding line of text, instructing him to breathe in and out in time with the circle appearing and disappearing.
And it was working, the shivering gulps of air turning into slow, deep breaths, one right after the other. The adrenaline was running slowly out of the bomb’s frame, his head lolling forward a bit as he continued to breathe. He couldn’t help wincing at the feeling of a few oily tears slipping down his face, but it was better than the veritable waterfalls that had been primed to break free before. And a lot safer, especially since Whitty could see Carol peeking around the corner, clearly wondering what the heck was going on.
Why don’t you tell them.
The thought had the bomb wincing, averting his eyes like there was some shameful secret in plain view. He hadn’t forgotten the talk he’d had with Cyrix, following the whole soccer field incident, but, he hadn’t found the time to bring things up with Hex like he’d wanted to. Of course, there’d been a part of Whitty that never wanted to, to just have things keep going like they had been. Though he knew it would only be a matter of time now, just a matter of asking the right questions and while they’d been polite before surely that politeness was just about to run out…
#nemo's writing#friday night funkin#whitty#fnf whitty#hex#fnf hex#carol#fnf carol#coming clean#sing together#ask game#writing snippet#fnf#writers on tumblr
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Plauge of Consequences
Description: You're a college student living on your own for the first time. Everything seems to be moving so fast yet so slow. Learning to adjust to adulting is taking it toll. Now you're new job is either going to be your savior or worst nightmare. Being a janitor wasn't at a Pizzaplex wasn't your first choose in jobs, but seemed the best option with your new schedule need to a slightly above average job. Maybe it was because the bots put off questionable emotions. Almost made them seem sentient. Nevertheless, a job was a job and here you are now.
Chapter One: Claws Out
Word count: 5,934
1/? Of chapters
Gender Neutral
Adulting was already going to be hard. The apartment smelled slightly musty, paint was a light tan and bare. Furniture was lacking, a crunchy bean bag, as well as a new mattress, sat on the floor. The kitchen had a pan, and pot that could both be bigger. The two plates and two bowls were nothing fancy. They came as a weirdly cheap bundle deal at the thrift store down the road.
Most of the stuff you got came from the thrift store or dumpster diving. The apartment deposit, rent, new mattress, and textbook costs a lot more than you had expected. It was a good thing I had gotten one of the many jobs you applied for. Anything was better than nothing right now even if your new workplace was across town and paid a little under what you were hoping for. Still, it was enough to get by plus some. How bad could it be?
***
"Well shit." You stare dumbstruck at the building. Had you thought of working at the PizzaPlex through? Well, yea, to some degree, but it didn't hit you till now that you are picking up and cleaning all day. In a place that has hundreds of thousands of children.
With a sigh, you made your way through the gigantic doors and into the front lobby. The place was popping. Families covered most of the floor. Most were parents following their kids around. Then there are the kids running around like chickens chasing each other.
You simply ignored them and scanned the sides of the room. The administration office was almost completely covered by the lost and found. It was pretty tiny. As you made your way over to the desk your thoughts were racing, 'Was this a good idea? Maybe you could find another job making the same with a flexible schedule like this one? Nope. This is it. Hopefully the cramped rank bus didn't affect my appearance too much.'
"H-hello, I'm supposed to be training for my new job as-" The bot you're speaking to stared at you blankly as you talked before turning around mid-sentence. When the bot whipped back around they shoved some clothes, a name tag/key card, a faz watch, and a mini faz tablet.
"Welcome to Freddy's Mega Pizzaplex! The Glamrock family is thrilled that you. Scott sends his regards for not being able to teach you. He has assigned you a glamrock staff tablet and faz watch with instructions for you." He then grabs a map from behind the booth and opens it. "Please make your way to the customer service area here. Thank you again for joining the Glamrock family, (Y/N)."
You grab the map and mumble thanks before following the map to customer service. Between you looking at the map making sure you're going the right way and fumbling to get faz watch to your wrist you almost walk into a kid and parent. In reality, the parent was dragging the kid in front of you not paying attention. How could you tell? The kid tripped over your shoe when you stopped and the mother paid no mind to what happened.
Parents were probably miserable here considering they can't do anything besides paying for overpriced food, and merch that was of okay quality. Oh, and the obvious, looking after their children but I'm sure some wouldn't. Hopefully working with the bots will be easier than working with all the customers.
You continue customer service. When there you approach the staff bot inside. They were the same model as any other staff bot just different colors. "Hi, new Janitor (Y/N)."
"Your second task is now complete. Please turn on your faz watch and tablet in the break room and continue with your training." He swung his left arm and motioned to a down behind him." With a nod of thank you do as told. Though this whole situation did seem off.
Once the tablet is turned on. It seemed you had to make a Faz Staff Account. You hastily fill out what you needed. Then the terms came up. It was over 400 pages long. You scrolled to the very end. Check mark what was needed. And just when you thought you were about to begin a video popped up. It showed a map of the groundfloor then a drawing of a bot popped up. "Here at the Mega Pizzaplex, your safety is our top priority. A safe worker is a happy worker and a happy worker is a hard worker. Here at Freddy's Mega Pizzaplex we only want the best for our best employees. That being said, please turn your attention to the red area on the map. That red area is the medbay." It flashes through the other floors showing all the medbays on each floor. One is on each floor.
The video removes the maps and slides the bot to the middle. "It is important you have a map for your tasks throughout the day. Please turn to your faz watch now." The bot slides back to the side of the screen and a picture of the faz watch appears. "Hold the button on the top of the faz watch till I tell you." You do so. "You have now connected your faz watch and faz tablet. You can now do the same thing on your faz watch as you do on the faz tablet. Thank you for joining our Glamrock family." With that, the video is over. That was quite a boring experience. Thank God that was over.
Looking down at the tablet revealed your first task. Change into work uniform if not done yet. It was a box at the bottom to check the mark when down. With a sigh, you turned to the clothes you had set on the scratched-up wooden table. Any and every work outfit looks horrible.
To your luck, there's a bathroom inside the break room. You go and change. Taking a look at the mirror you didn't know how to feel about the outfit. You can understand wearing black pants, a black leather glossy belt, and a white long-sleeved undershirt. Not the shirt though, black was the main color then followed by neon blue, orange, and green. It was like they wanted you to stand out.
Sat back down at the table in the flimsy chair and put your name tag on. You checked the task and an animation confetti blew up on the screen. The next task then popped up followed by the rest.
You put your clothes in the lockers and follow the instructions in the description of the first task. Leading you to a large red door. As soon as you open it a musty, chemically, greasy, whiff smacks your nostrils. Inside was cleaning supplies on sleeves with worn-down boxes at the bottom. In the middle was a dusty go-cart. It was clear this closet hadn't been used much.
You make your way to the side of the go golf-cart only to see a cart about the same size as the golf-cart. That'll make things easier to hall things around.
The go-cart had baskets instead of the back seat. Some half empty bottles of cleaning supplies, with rags, toilet paper, toilet brush in a holder, trash bags, and a bucket that held a mop inside were all in the basket. Honestly, it was pretty nifty.
Looking through the bottle you found the off brand lemon zest for multi use purposes. You douse both carts before taking multiple rags to dust them off. It took longer than expected with the dust being like a thick wrap you'd put on an actual vehicle.
Once done you step back and take in the carts to actually paint. Of course it was brown with red trim and a neon blue lightning bolt on the front. The typical Glamrock Freddy color scheme.
Confetti littered the tablet screen as you checked off this task. That was gonna get old and annoying fast. The next on the list in bold was LAUNDRY. In the description it explains the cleaning rags from last night were to be washed, dried, and placed in each janitor's closet for the staff bots tonight.
You followed your map to an elevator not too far away. The inside was bigger than most elevators. Definitely oversized, perfect for bringing the carts down here later.
The basement was dingy and smelled like the janitors closet, but without the burning chemicals burning your nose. That didn't last long through. Two carts in the corner were full of rags and towels. You get straight to work loading the washer. Loading all those crusty rags into the washer made you start to sweat. Good thing all you had to do was push start.
Since you had some time on your hands in-between loading, and switching, the washer and dryer you had decided you'd clean restock the supply closets for the staff bots upstairs. You made your way through the hall to the storage.
There you found a free cart and filled it with the supplies listed underneath its task. You then went back to the laundry to grab the bags. The cart was filled to the top once you throw the bags of rags in there. It took some effort to push but it was better than putting all those dirty rags in the washer. It was even going to be more of a hassle to take out the rags when they were wet.
The elevator creaked as it moved up with you and the cart. Clearly this elevator needed some fixing up but I'm sure staff don't use it often. At least not living staff. Which led to a question, why had you not seen any other human staff member? Surely you couldn't be the only one. They were handing those fliers out like free samples at the mall.
The elevator came to a jerking stop before the doors opened slower than before. Yep, differently not taking the golf-cart on this thing. You went to push the cart but it seemed to be stuck. The elevator door alarm started blaring after you pulled the cart back and rammed it into the door frame. Starting at the front wheels you pulled the cart all the way back till ramped it over the doors and frames. Thank goodness it stayed up right.
***
Stocking up the closets was easy and only took 40 minutes so by the time you were done the washer was too. Moving the rags from the washer to dry was horrible. They were three times as heavy as before. At least they didn't smell strongly of chemicals now. They did however soak your shirt by the amount you took out at one time. Filling the washer now felt like a blessing of sorts. Even more so now that one cart was empty. Now it was time to find another task to do.
You took the stairs back up to the ground floor. The thought of the amount of people you'd have to maneuver through didn't cross your mind at all. It was like trying to get through a maze. That golf cart is differently going to be around closing time. That was bullshit but you gotta take what you can get.
The stairs were like waiting in line at a waterpark when trying to get through the crowd. Many parents shot you dirty looks as you passed by. You however just shrugged as they probably have not seen a human employee before. Though it was rather rude.
At the janitors closet you detached the cart from the golf-cart after some fighting. You then took the basket off the golf cart and set it at the bottom of the cart as well as a wet floor sign. Then you head toward the restroom.
People were heading in and out. Just like the other tasks this one had a description. But this one had in bold letters NOT to let customers in the bathroom while cleaning. You didn't question it and parked your cart in front of the entryway so people couldn't get in. Of course you moved it for people coming out. Nasty looks and a couple grumbles were thrown your way.
You had just let the last person out and put up the out of service banner outside before heading back inside. Toilet paper littered the floor, trash can was overflowing, and soap was emptied onto the floor. This is what you signed up for working around kids and drained parents.
For starters gloves are your best friend. The bathroom was rank it was definitely gonna take a couple of washes to get the smell out of your shoes.
The trash can had paper towels rolling across the floor after some struggle to get the bag out. It was really packed in there. You set the first bag next to the entrance, put a new trash bag in, and started picking up the litter on the floor.
Saying it was nasty was an understatement. Some pieces were fine while others were damp or drenched in unknown liquid. The guessing made it worse as did the toilet paper breaking apart. The slush sound when it hit the floor was revolting.
As you go to put the other bag next to the cartsomething smacks right into your legs. It was a little boy with shaggy dirty-blonde hair. He takes a step back with a stunned expression on his face and shakes his head a bit.
"Watch where you're going! You could've really hurt my son!" There standing behind the boy, the mother of the spawn. She had the typical bulb shape hair cut with mostly blonde hair with brown roots shining through. Don't even get started on the outfit.
"Ma'am the restroom is closed for cleaning. I'm gonna have to ask you to leave." You state, setting down the bag of trash in hand.
"Little Timmy just needs to pee." She buffs, pushing out her chest and grabbing her son's shoulder. He smiles at you brightly before running past you.
"Hey!" Before you could do anything the boy's feet flew out from under him and hit his back on the wet tile outside a stall. You cringe back at the sight while Karen rushes to his aid.
The boy didn't even make a peep while sitting up from the floor rubbing his head until mom wrapped her body around him. He wailed as the mom started raving at you. "My baby! My poor baby! How dare you do this! You should know better than to wet the floor at a children's facility!" She continues on getting more aggressive. You kind of just watched her not taking in anything she had to say.
A cold pressure suddenly is placed on your shoulder. Glancing back you see none other than Glamrock Freddy. He didn't look at you but at the two on the floor. A light shines over the two from his eye. "No injuries are detected. Katherine Yardow for breaking protocol 9.3, and 24.7 a you are to be escorted off the premises. This area is off limits at the moment and isn't a safe play place for your son or you."
Katherine dropped her child and stormed right up to us. Before she could reach us Freddy swiftly pushes you back as he moves in front of you. She screams profanities at him, jabbing her finger on his chest plate but that turned to hitting in a matter of seconds.
It didn't last long before three staff bots rolled into the restroom. Two hastily grab her by the arms and lift her up to keep her feet from touching the floor. They then wheel her out while the other goes, picks up the child, and follows after them.
"Are you alright y/n l/n?" Freddy asks, turning his attention to you.
"Yea, thanks. That was crazy." You chuckle nervously, rubbing the back of your neck looking over your shoulder. That's when you noticed the cart. It had been moved about a 90 degree angle. "Did you move that?"
"Yes, I had seen the child and parent walk through the front of the golf-cart to enter. I was going to wait outside the bathroom when I detected shouting that wasn't an opinion. I'll move it back now. You have a good rest of the day." He moves the cart back then bends done on the other side so that his face is viable through the cart. "Let any of us know if you need anything or have questions." With that he left. Leaving you alone to your thoughts and job.
You didn't want to be in that bathroom any longer then you had to and quickly finished. Somehow getting completely disregarded made cleaning less miserable.
An hour was all it took to clean all the public bathrooms in the building. It was nice to know that the cleaning and restocking wouldn't take long at closing time.
The next task was to drop off wipes and soft chemical streaming supplies to the daycare as well as taking the trash out. As you drive up to the daycare door you see a child probably around ages 3 to 5 yelling and running around. They all seemed to be having a blast. The cart outside is parked next to the large glass window in front of a cloud, shoving the roll of trash bags liners into your back pocket and picking up the box of supplies the daycare required.
Before you can open the door it slams right into you, knocking you and all of the soupy to the floor. You blink a couple times and rub your forehead, trying to get your bearings on what just happened. A repeated tapping was all you hear. Looking towards the sound you find the sun animatronic.
Once your eyes meet his white ones he does a little wave before pointing toward the door. You follow where he was pointing to see a muscular middle aged fellow with a bushy beard, a black band tshirt, with a blue jean vest over top, and a black jean pants with a chain dangling on the loopholes.
"Shit, you okay there kid?" He offers you a hand which you accept gladly.
"I'll be alr-"
"Here let me help you with this." He begins picking up the supplies.
"Sir, it's really no big deal." You examine, wanting the awkwardness to just end already.
"Nonsense, don't be so modest." He waved you off, picked on another thing of wipes before putting them in the box. You quickly reached done to help since he was insisting.
It didn't take but 3 seconds to pick everything up and put them back in the box. He hands you a box and dusts off his hands before reaching for the door. "Again I'm terribly sorry."
This is a completely different interaction from Karen in the bathroom this morning. It had you taken a back a bit. "Oh, it really is okay, thank you " With that you walked into the daycare. He smiled and with a nod let go of the door.
You watch as the door closes behind you. Damn, how embarrassing to get hit by a door. Thank goodness it was a nice customer though. Inhaling deeply helps the embarrassment wash away, and body relaxes before turning around on your heels. White. That was all you saw making you freak out and jump back a bit. There in front was the daycare attendant bending down to your level.
"Hello new friend! Are you feeling okay!? That was an awful hard hit to your noggin!" He talked rather quickly and bobbly. He needed that much energy to keep up with the little ones though. You didn't even have time to respond back he really was quick "Oh you brought the cleaning supplies! Thank you friend!" He takes the box and stands up. Man was he tall.
"Just doing my job." Just then out of the corn of your eye you see a little boy squeezing a bottle of pink glitter glue into a girl's hair. "Ah," you went to say something but then you realize you didn't know what the animatronic's name was tell him what was happening. Though it seemed he got the hit from the sound you made as well as you looking back and forth in a panic.
"Chase! Glitter glue is for paper! Never anything else!" He scolds the little boy, holding the box of supplies on his hip, arm around it. With his free hand he swipes away the glitter glue from the boy. .
Meanwhile, Sally is grabbing at her long red hair with big watery eyes. When she felt the glob of glue she immediately became the great falls. Tears flooded down her little rosy freckled cheeks and her mouth gaps like a catfish as she whales.
Something in you just seemed to snap. It could easily have been instinct but if it wasn't you maybe just didn't wanna hear her crying. It could break glass if any higher. You swiftly pick up the little girl. "Where's the bathroom? I'll try and get out the glitter."
The animatronic's expression widens, "Right over there!" He points, giving you a nod as thanks before dealing with Chase, who ran off as soon as the daycare attendant was distracted by you.
In the bathroom you were quick about getting Sally's hair soaking in the sink. The hot water seemed to make the glue dissolve. You ran your fingers through her hair a couple of times. When the glitter made a thin lining on the out rim of the light pink water to float up you unplugged the sink and ran water through her hair for good measure. It was surprisingly easy to get out after that with paper towels. Just a couple of stray sparkles left.
"There we go." Through her sniffles she looks in the mirror and run a hair through her hair. Her emerald green eyes widen, she whipped her hair back and without warning leaps into your arms.
"Oh thank you!"
"It was no problem." Squeeze out. You could feel your shirt get wetter by the second. Should probably do something about the wet hair. You could dry it off with a shit ton of paper towel, but the smudged up hand dryer next to the door would do a better job.
"Would you like to dry your hair?" Sally nods and you're quick to guide her over to the hand dryer. She appeared puzzled till you hit on. Her eyes lit up and practically danced under it followed by giggles. You rolled your eyes at the scene. Kids we're really something else.
Little Sally skipped out of the bathroom, her dry wavy hair flowing behind her, with you following suit. It wasn't long before Sally spotted her friends and was climbing up the play structure.
"New friend!" Your whole body spun around at the sudden voice. It's going to take some getting used to that amount of energy. " Ah! I didn't mean to scare you! I just wanted to say thank you! Chase has been picking on Sally for the last two days!"
"Sounds like Chase is having a hard time adjusting." You state lean back on the desk
"It's not that! He plays great with the other kids! Oh that reminds me!" He reaches around you, "Could you bring these down to the glam rocks." He beams, dropping a stack of drawing into your arms. With a stare at the papers for a good second then back at the bubbly yellow guy. His smile has widened and eyes now in the form of triangles.
One of the tasks on your list was to clean out the trash in the glamrocks rooms anyways. "Sure thing. Let me know if you need anything else." You wave over your shoulder. Before you can open the door it swings open. Higher up on the door, yellow hand pressed.
"I'll make sure to let you know if anything comes up."
You put the stack of drawings in a cardboard box, don't want them falling over, or ever worse off the golf cart. The golf cart was coming in handy not trailing back and forth to each janitor's closet for supplies but the swarm of but with it getting closer to noon more people were rolling into the place making it hard drive through the crowd. Maybe that's why it had been covered in dust.
You put the golf cart up in the end. It was just taking too long to get places and the customers didn't care that they're kids were climbing over it. This left you with a belt like a contraction work but instead of tools it held little bottles of chemicals and had a large Fanny pack like pocket with a couple of tools as well as a rag stored inside. If you needed a cart for hauling there was one in every closet.
With the cart in toe that held the box of drawings, you made your way down to the glamrocks rooms. A green blur caught the eye making you slow down. Next to the bathrooms was Monty Gator. If he wasn't a robot one would think he was trying to scratch his back but the spot was just out of reach. He most have felt a presence in the force or some shit because his gaze spotted on you and he went straightened up. "What are ya looking at?"
"I'm not sure." You lean against the cart. It was painful obvious he needed help with something. You had planned on asking but with the tone he used speaking to you it made you rethink that.
The gator grumbles his way to you. Ah the tone matches the body language how interesting. "Listen here runt, ya didn't see anything-" You kind of just started tuning him out as your curiosity got the better of you. You took one large side step and bam the mystery was solved. On the center of his back was a piece of hard candy. "Hey! What do-"
"I can get that for you." You hold up a rag and a bottle of clearer. He's joints lower and with a huff he exposes his back to you. The candy didn't budge till it was moist. When the sucker finally popped off you threw it into a nearby trash can.
"I can't believe they hired another human after so long?" If we wouldn't have been so close to the gator while cleaning off the residue of candy you might of night heard him grumble that. You didn't think too much after all this place was run by mostly boys.
"They're good as new." Monotony straightened up, crossed his arms, huff, and turned his head. His red eyes glanced at you through the side of his glass. They seemed too soft at the sight of you beaming up at him.
"Thanks Runt." He finally says something normally, but his eyes left your gaze before he did. Weird.
"No problem." You wave to him to continue on the mission at hand. Freddy was in his room messing with an amp. You didn't even get a chance to knock before you were greeted. "Afternoon Y/N."
"Hello again, I'm here for any trash you have." He nods steps out of the doorway, motioning towards the trash can. The trash can was filled to the rim unlike most of the over trash cans, easy. "Thank you."
"Wait one second," You drop the trash bag, and grab the drawings. Can't forget those bad boys. Freddy's eyes widened as you handed over the box. "The daycare attendant asked me to give you these."
"Sundrop is such a nice fellow, I wish they'd come see us like they used too." He seemed to dent the box ever so slightly. What was that supposed to mean? They work together. Kind of.
"Here." He hands you a stack of sticker sheets. "Have him give these to the kids." You agreed with a nod before heading over to chica's room. There was a tiny bag of trash outside her door. Guess she didn't want to be disturbed right now.
"Ah more fans- oh you must be the janitor." She headed back over to her make up stand and started spray painting her hair. As you're pulling out the trash you stop at the studden bomb of the gray wolf's voice. "You must be an amazing janitor for them to hire you." You didn't know if that was a normal complement or a back handed one. Either way Roxy seemed busy, so you were hasty was putting a new bag in and getting the fuck out of there. Maybe Monty would be more welcoming than her.
You weren't wrong but you weren't right either. Like Chica he had left the trash bag outside the door, but he was inside. His loud ranting and strumming of jagged notes was a clear indication of that. Hopefully he catches a break soon.
The rest of the tasks were simple and easy, but there were many. Not to mention all the messes you had to clean up after parties around the stage. Customers were messy and acted as if it was a normal thing to not clean up after themselves.
The last thing you had to do before clocking out for the day was bring the stickers to the daycare attendant. Darkness consumed the daycare with only the haze of the lights outside the daycare coming in through the window. All the little ones laid scattered on matts with tiny blankets that had glow in the dark stars on them. Swiftly you made your way over to the desk, set down the stickers, grabbed a sticky note, and wrote, "Freddy sent these as a thank you."
Just as you were finishing up the note you felt the hair on the back of your neck rise. You whipped around to find the same scene as before. The more your eyes adjusted though you spotted something. Okay it was more of someone. Honestly, Chase did a good job at hiding underneath the play structure. If his little leg wasn't sticking out you would've never seen him.
"Hey there," You greeted the blonde boy. He smacked his head back ahead of the pillar that was curled up behind. He quinces and with a sniffle rubs his snot on his arm. "Why're you crying?"
He sniffled and sobbed, "I left my Roxxe plush in the tent." He then chokes on his own sob for a second. "Mr. Moon won't let me in the Castle to get her." He hugged his blanket and curled up into his knees.
You scanned your surroundings looking for your target. The castle was next to the ball pit with about 20 kids inbetween you. Laying next to them are swords made out of pool noodles and shields made out of cardboard. "Come on," you nudge him. "Let's go get her back."
He perks up immediately and his brown eyes sparkle. "Really!?"
You shush him by putting a finger up to your lips. He slaps his hands over his mouth then opens them. "Really?" He whispers.
"Yep we just gotta be quiet and sneak past the castle guards." You whisper, motioning him to follow you out from under the play structure. He scrambled out after you and quickly held onto your pants. His eyes search the room frantically.
"Come on." You take a step forward. He follows your soft steps around his sleeping companions. For a kid who was causing chaos earlier he was surprisingly good at keeping quiet.
When outside the castle you got this feeling like you were being watched and Chase wasn't helping calm your nerves with him now clinging to your leg. This was just a tent in a building that was freaking you out so badly. No wild animals were around unless you counted the kids as animals.
With a small sigh you take Chase's sweaty little hand and lead him inside. The feeling subsided a bit. "Where'd you last have her?"
"Oh she was on the pillows. Over here." He tugs on you to the back corner. Sure enough upon her throne of pillows sat a Roxy plush. She has a couple sock puppet at the bottom pillow. "She's their queen." He giggles, picking up the plush before holding your hand and smiling up brightly. "Thank you."
The smile on your face drop when you turn rn to exit the tent. You froze for a second before pushing Chase behind you. What greeted you at the entrance of the tent stood a tall shadow figure. One of its claws ripped the entrance of the tent with its grip while the other had them curl in and out at its side. Its hunched over torso and black eyes with a bead of electric red in the middle screamed not kid friendly.
The creature's head spun along with its starry night cap as it crept inside. Something about that last movement was a lot more jagged than others. It sent you into survival mode.
You grabbed the nearest objects in one scoop and chucked them swiftly at it. The animatronic wasn't fazed at all by the sock puppets. To make matters worse it is now inside, with its sharp smile widening. The lining of the teeth began to thicken. Desperate and backed into a corner like prey, you searched for anything in here to defend yourself again. That's when you saw it. A foam noodle sword.
You sprung at the creature's feet, grabbed the sword, and rolled to the side. Just in time too. The creature's claws dug into the floor where you landed. Its focus was on you and face inches away from your's.
A clank rang out throughout the tent and hit them in their faceplate. Its head spun around as its neck bent backward. You booked it out of the tent in a heart beat to the doors. They were locked and the jingles where getting closer. That's when you saw the light switch. The sign tapped above it that said lights on and the tape on the switch pulled down. Maybe just maybe.
You reach for the switch on to have a claw grab your arm and yank you up into the air. "Naught, naughty~" It sang into your face.
Its claws now dig into your arm. They twitched and loosen then tighten some more. Your eyes were glued to the free hand that's lifting up into the air. A blur and breezed passed your face.
You tumble to the floor clenching your wounded arm as the animatic screeches and claws at its now yellow faceplate. Its eyes shift between black, red and white before landing on the all white one. Seven triangles pop out the side of its head and the hat is now to be found. In Front of you stood the overly bubbly day care attendant you had met only hours ago.
He reached for you before but retracted his hand to his torso. "No! No! Not again!"
~A/N~
Please remember to comment and like I love feedback! It fuels my speed production for the next chapter
This chapter as been edited my a sleep deprived, dyslexic fool. It will be edited again in time my apologies in the mean time.
#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf poc#fnaf sundrop#fnaf moodrop#fnaf reader#fnaf fanfic#fnaf sb#daycare attendant fnaf#plauge of consequences#fnaf roxy#fnaf monty#fnaf security breach#fnaf au#fnaf freddy#fnaf chica#fnaf superstar daycare#daycare attendant
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erysichthon’s punishment, 2
pairing: eater!peter parker x f!eater!reader
tags: dead dove, do not eat: themes of cannibalism, violence, 18+ only, eventual smut, angstttt, blonde peter parker, drug use, mentions of panic attacks, swearing, manipulation, lots of mentions of blood, so much yearning its painful
summary: “i want you to eat me, angel, bones and all” two young cannibals meet in the midwest, fall in love, find struggles along the way.
notes: oh these two losers are hopeless!
word count: 4.8k
౨ׅৎ
peter had no intention of adding a member to his solo-party when he woke up that morning. solitude suited him; it was a choice he made and told himself that it made his life easier, bearable. he’d given up on trying to establish himself within society when he was 13. his aunt and uncle were oblivious to his condition- he learned quickly when he was 5 that something was deeply wrong with him after a particularly bad fight on his school’s playground. he didn't like to ruminate on the memories. it brought back that painstaking feeling he felt when he was 15, watching his uncle ben console his aunt may in a mess of tears and distress. he figured it was best to leave, before he hurt someone. he couldn’t live with himself if he hurt them.
he left his home with little to nothing: a few clothes, his dads glasses, a token from his mother, a picture of his aunt and uncle- and taken the first train out of new york, whatever was cheapest. he can't recall what state he had ended up in, too busy fighting tears as he beat himself up for the curse of depravation that knawed at him constantly. he was tantalus, ostracised into an eternity of thirst and hunger because of the selfishness than ran deep in his psyche. he’d pick fights with men twice his size often, at that age, knowing he’d lose. it was a tumultuous mix of self-inflicted punishment, desperate need for penance for causing pain to those he loved, for abandoning without a trace; for indulging, for the first time in his life, in his most shameful desires.
his first time, he was in georgia. it was his birthday. he’d managed to make some pocket money working for an old couple and their granddaughter tending to household chores and yardwork. it was so much different than his life back home, the quiet midwestern landscape made him long for the neverending hustle and bustle he had grown familiar to. the couple reminded him of his uncle ben and aunt may, and while he found it painful, he liked to imagine that they were his aunt and uncle, living a happy life and raising a happy, normal child. he’d never get too close to them, only watch them from afar as he completed his work, and he’d fantasise that it was him they were eating lunch and playing games with. they never seemed to question where he had come from, or how he always found time for work, never in school- and a deep part of him wanted them to care. to pick and prod for answers he didn’t want to give, so he could bask in the nagging and questioning as if it were his beloved guardians pestering him out of love. he wanted to feel like a boy again.
peter hadn’t been a boy anymore for a while, his escape forced him to mature faster than he probably should have. he’d forced himself into the idea that he was now a man, and there was no escaping in; no indulging in childlike pleasures or wonder. he was now in the real world, alone, and he found no time for it. things that made him feel callow and juvenile peeved him, and he avoided it at all costs. he didnt have a home, unlike what he told his employers. he lived near a dumpster, with a makeshift home founded with tattered old clothes he’d stolen off of clotheslines, hidden craftily from sight for when it got dark enough. sometimes, on the weekends, when drunks and addicts would find their way down the alley he’d nested in, he’d cry silently, praying to whatever god there was that they’d leave quickly, and he’d remain hidden. that evening, he walked home with an abnormally hefty bonus, an undeserving birthday gift he’d been given before leaving his work- when he was pulled aside by a scarily thin and sunken girl. she was older than him, no doubt, about 19, and she made an excited effort to pull him aside with the promise of a surprise he couldn't miss, whisking him away before he could answer. when she’d brought him down an unfamiliar alleyway, he fought the urge to throw up.
it was dark, save for the old and dim flashlight the girl carried with her. it smelled of rotten meat and sewage. hidden under a pile of old blankets and quilts, she uncovered the body of a man, couldn't have been older than 35. pieces of his abdomen, shoulders, neck, and legs were amiss, hacked away carelessly by a dull knife. what had really disturbed peter was that the man was still alive; breathing shakily, pale and sweaty. his once clean and well fitted suit had been shredded in various areas, carelessly torn at and blood stained. he couldn't speak, no doubt from the pain he was in. some of his wounds seemed much older than the others.
“he’s about to die. normally we’d eat as much of them as we can when they’re fresh, but i’m livin’ on what i've got left. he wasn't a good person, if it makes you feel better.”
peter was sick. he’d tried to run away, but she stopped him. what shook him the most was how eerily kind the girl was, as if she was earnestly trying to help him. you need to feed, is what she had told him as she cut away at his chest, handing him a bloodied chunk of dirty flesh and muscle. he couldn't find it in him to do it, staring at the pleading man as life drained from his eyes. he couldn’t do it, no matter how delicious he smelled, the man's sweet red ambrosia dripping down his fingertips. it was like it was taunting him, the way it slipped through his fingers and onto the hard pavement. eventually, the girl guided the piece of meat into peter's mouth, urging him to ignore his internal protests and just chew.
now, he was about the same age as the girl- charlotte, her name was. he couldn’t forget her. he blamed her for the person he’d become: a guiltless, ravenous, murderous monster. he’d only actually killed a few people with his own hands a scattered amount of times; out of desperation and famine, yet he remained unyielding at the prospect that he was cold-blooded murderer. he hated her, almost as much as he hated himself. she was the serpent, and he was eve; leading him towards temptation. the irony wasn’t lost on him, that now he was the serpent, and the girl next to him in his stolen green ford was now his eve. he’d regretted the words as soon as he said it. i can help you. it left his mouth before he could think, too busy thinking of a way to get her to stay by his side a little longer. she was beautiful, no doubt, but she possessed a certain innocence that peter felt he needed in his life. he convinced himself that in doing this he wouldn't be robbing her of that innocence, but instead he could learn from it. he wanted to get drunk off it, its rarity was intoxicating to him. if she was his last drink of water, he’d savour it; worship it, do everything in his power to keep it as pure and fresh for as long as he can. help, he had said. how, in the already cruel and messed up world they lived in, could he justify this as help? it upset him how his notion of helping her was ultimately exposing her to the same state of self-loathing and hatred that he harboured.
angel, he called her. she was still adamant on not giving him her real name, and he decided he didn't care. it was easier that way. easier for him to mould her into what he craved. he could pick apart everything he eventually learned about her, and paste it onto the girl he wanted her to be- what he wished he could have with her. he looked at her, her hair whipping in the wind as she rested her chin on the window, her knees tucked into her chest. he could just barely hear her humming foreign melodies under her breath, and in the rear-view mirror he watched her eyes childishly dart back and forth across the empty landscape they sped through. he yearned to connect with her. he wanted to bridge the gap between them, to engage in honest conversation without the weight of what he was about to do crushing him. he almost wanted to turn the car around and drop her off at the nearest train station, apologise for the inconvenience, and bid goodbye. the voice in his head nagged at him to let the dove free, and just hold onto the memory of it.
she spoke first, “i don't want to hurt anybody.” it pained him. he cursed at himself for feeling attached to her, or giving a shit about her feelings. what was it to him? he didn't know her- hell, he couldn't even get her to give him her name. he scoffed at himself, and she turned to look at him with quizzical eyes, her lips pressed together as if deciding whether or not the action was laced with malice. he kept his eyes on the road, unable to look at her. “famous last words.”
she let out a humourless laugh, turning back to the world outside her window. he wanted to apologise. for what, he wasn't sure of yet. for changing her life forever, maybe. or maybe for acting so cold despite his previous kindness. truth was, he felt shy now. he was always quick with witty remarks and jokes, but he found he failed at reaching out to people, a consequence of his solitude. he opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it. his mental turmoil was clearly getting to him, as he considered just taking her someplace else, saving his ‘lessons’ for another night.
“i won't force you to do anything you don't want to,” he finally spoke. she hummed in response, turning to kick up heer feet on the dashboard, elbow resting on the console and nestling her head onto her palm. they seemed to have been driving a while, and she wondered where he was taking her. she was nervous, to put it lightly. she had a vague idea of what he meant when he said he’d help her, but she didn't want to think about it much. she tried to put her mind on autopilot, instead focusing on the vast expanse of land before her. she counted cows, sheep, stray dogs, and made up songs in her head. the one thing she couldn't shake off her mind, however, was his smell. she understood now what he meant when he said he could smell her. it was a warm, musky scent. different from anything she’d ever smelt before. she silently basked in it, relishing its comfort. one of her own. someone who understood her. it was rare, and she welcomed the feeling. she kept her eyes on the road now, mimicking him. in the corner of her eye, she saw his slender fingers drum on the steering wheel anxiously, making a turn into the driveway of a small, white house. the porch was old and rotting away, stray pieces of plywood laziness hammered on to hide the mess suggested it was falling apart- but it seemed homely, if not abandoned. he turned the car off and stepped out.
“stay here,” he ordered. not rough, more like a gentle warning. she watched him saunter off towards the front door, flinching at how loudly he’d knocked. a tall, scruff man greeted him, and he didn't seem very happy to see the lanky boy at his doorstep. he began to yell, grabbing peter by the collar of his shirt and shaking him violently. she felt herself shrink into her carseat, fear enveloping her senses. she worried that by accepting peters offer she’d somehow put him in some kind of danger, and she didn’t want to find out what would happen had the man discovered she was with him. she couldn't make out exactly what they were saying, but she caught a glimpse of that same mischievous smile from earlier as peter slipped his way into the house.
too much time passed, and she grew worried. she also noted how much quieter the house seemed, and she began to panic, the reality of what was happening finally dawning on her. she hurriedly climbed out of the truck, scrambling her way to the door. with balled fists at her sides, she called peters name. no response. then, shouting- and then a pained scream from the man from before, followed by a loud tumble and a harsh crack against the hardwood floor. she twisted the doorknob before she could think about it, and as she swung the door open she bit back a scream.
peter was standing at the top of the stairs, fists clenched and spattered with blood. he looked as if he’d taken a few nasty hits to his face, his cheek oozing slightly with a bruised gnash that met his jawline.
“what did you do?” her eyes were wide with horror, shaking as she shut the door behind her and kneeled beside the man on the floor. there was blood, so much blood, pooling from behind his head and bubbling out of his mouth with choked gasps. she looked up at peter who was now crouched beside her, eyes dark and unreadable. he chewed on the inside of his cheek before standing up, keeping his gaze on the man on the floor.
“owed me money. bastard was too drunk or high to make it down the stairs properly.”
was that what he was going with? she felt rage bubble up inside of her, but she couldn’t find a justification for it. she knew exactly what was going to happen. she knew exactly what peter was going to train her to become. and yet, she had a shred of hope that it would be less heartless, even if she didn't exactly know how. she shook her head, standing up to meet him. they stared at each other intensely, his jaw ticking and her teeth clenched.
“i didn’t push him.”
“like thats believable.”
a beat, and then he turned towards the kitchen, “i didn’t”. she felt her eyes well up with tears, trying to ignore the gargling sound coming from the man on the floor behind her. she heard the tap turn on, and then water rush as peter washed his hands, hissing at the stings from the scratches and bruises that began to form on him. he turned to face her again, and crossed his arms as he pointed his chin at the dying man before them,
“go on.”
the tears began to fall then, and his face softened. he made his way towards her, gently bringing her down to the floor onto her knees. she couldn't stop crying, and he felt guilt swell in his chest. he knew it wouldn't be easy for her, and he hated that he was ultimately the reason for her crying.
she shook her head violently, “i cant.” the choked words were small in her throat, and he heard him sigh next to her. at that moment, he regretted everything that lead him up to this point. he watched the shaking girl reach for the man, taking his face in her hands and whisper sobs of apology. peter climbed over to the opposite side of her, and reached to close his eyes. her eyes squeezed shut, as if to shield herself from what she anticipated was his next move. she felt as if she was going to pass out. the smell of blood was calling to her, and she pushed away her desire to bend over and taste the metallic liquid that now seeped onto her baby-blue dress. she heard the gorey sound of flesh ripping, and she sobbed harder. peter was next to her, now. she could smell him, and it mixed with the smell of the blood in a way that was all too overcoming. she felt him pull her down onto his lap, cooing in her ear and soothing her. when she looked at him, his face was dripping with blood, and she fought back the way it made her want to scream and kick her way out of his loose grasp. she wanted to hurt peter for hurting this man- it didn't matter to her what he may have done to him, but she knew that her brain simply couldn't process the truth behind what was happening before her, and her only sense of respite required her to push the blame onto someone; even if the blame was partially on her. bloodied hands caressed her head, and she watched as the other presented a large, meaty chunky of muscle. she shook her head again, her breath quickening.
“just eat, angel. dont think about it. just eat.”
he urged the piece of flesh towards her mouth and she clutched her chest as she felt her sobs wrack her body once again. the way he whispered it softly in her ear, and his small breaths down her neck- his smell mingling with the aroma that radiated off the lump off flesh in front of her- it begged her to shove down any moral compass she had and feast. she wanted more than anything in that moment to let go and indulge in what was being offered to her. she heard quiet sniffles behind her, and she inhaled deeply as she tried to regain her composure, wailing quietly in peters arms.
peter felt like the worst person in the world. as he sat there, cradling her frail body, all he saw was himself. he had now become the serpent, urging his eve to take a bite into the forbidden fruit. he’d become the person he hated the most, now, and the thought of it broke him. he tried to keep himself quiet, for her sake, whispering into her hair what he knew to be true.
you’ll feel better, angel, i promise. just eat. i promise it’s okay.
he watched her open her mouth ever so slightly, and he moved the meat closer. she bit through the muscle in tears, the salt wetness sliding down peters hands and washing away small fragments of blood along with it. she had never felt more conflicted. finally, she had satiated that undying hunger within her, and it felt so good. she almost moaned with the relief of it, savouring the way the blood trickled down her neck and gushed over her cheeks. her head spun- peter whispering words of praise behind her only made the moment feel more relieving. it’s okay, he chanted, and it really did make her feel okay. in those two words, she understood everything he was struggling to tell her. it’s okay, i understand. i know how it hurts and feels so good.
he pulled her up with him, his fingers lingering on hers for a moment too long. she looked up at him, eyes glassy and red. he cradled her face and urged her to keep going.
and she did.
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“you should go shower. i’ll deal with this.”
he had locked all the doors, lead her upstairs into the empty bedroom and laid out a large shirt and a pair of jean shorts he’d found in the closet. she didn't dare question who they might belong to, knowing that it would ruin her again. the room was small, disgustingly brown, and reeked of weed and cigarettes. there was no semblance of belonging or personality to it- it felt as if the person who has inhabited it only rotted away in it their whole life.
she stood watching herself in front of the full length mirror next to the bed. she’d stripped, left only in her cotton underwear and her bra. her fingers fell to her lips, tracing the stream of blood that led down her neck, shoulders, and in between the valley of her breasts. she dragged her nail down her abdomen and stopped at her bellybutton, admiring the way the blood that stained her skin complimented her so well. by now, she’d simply come to terms with it. she had known it all along. her father knew it, she knew it, and she could no longer hide from it. she thought about peter, and how gentle he had been with her. there was a mutual understanding between the two that they both hated this part of themselves, but he made her feel better about coming to terms with it. when she watched him feed with her, she noted how careful he was. she could sense a hint of shame in the way he went about it, despite the way he wiped his mouth unabashedly on the collar of his cotton shirt.
a small part of her found it attractive.
she heard a small cough come from the doorway behind her, and she turned quickly. peter seemed unphased by her near-nakedness, but she couldn't see how it woke something within him. she was truly beautiful, he thought, and it took every bit of strength in him to keep his eyes off of her body and meet her gaze. he was shirtless, and covered in blood, and she felt her breath hitch slightly at the sight.
“if you wont shower, i will. you can have the bed, i’ll take the couch,” he turned towards the bathroom quickly, and she turned her gaze back to herself as she tried to ignore the sound of the shower running and the way she could see a sliver of his body through the crack of the door in the mirror, the way his muscles flexed and relaxed. she could see the litter of scars and bruises on his stomach, and part of her ached to tend to them. she busied herself by attempting to scrub off the blood on her arms in the bathroom she found a room over, waiting for him to finish so she could feel like she could breathe again, and sort herself out. she refused to think about what she had done before, instead focusing on the quiet breeze outside and faint chirping of birds. she wanted to cry again, and she wasn't sure as to why. she’d spent an ample amount of time scrubbing the red off of her arms, now focused on the dried substance clinging to her cuticles. she picked at them desperately, sniffling as she did so. it wouldn't go away, and she felt hopeless.
she thought about her mother, and whether or not she knew of her daughter's ailment, and if that is what had driven her insane. she remembered the way she’d scream at her over the most trivial things when she was little, the way she’d pick at her fingers until they’d bleed incessantly, and they’d rush her younger self out of the room as they cleaned the mess up. part of her longed to see her again. she needed to know if her mother was driven away by her, and not her father, or the inevitability of mental illness that ran in her family, unlike what he recounted. was she like her, perhaps? driven to madness by a hunger that can’t be settled? and if so, was that her inevitable fate? to be pulled into a world of insanity, locked away into a hospital in chains and sentenced to a life of self-reflection and loathing? she wasn't sure if she wanted to know. peter appeared behind her again, this time clean and dressed. she rushed past him and straight to the shower, aching to scrub her sins off of her flesh until she burned.
peter ran a shaky hand through his faux-blonde locks. he wanted to speak to her, know what she was thinking, what she thought of him, but he couldn't figure out where to start. he’d never felt guilty about killing sacks of shit before, but he did now. not because he found an ounce of sympathy for the thieving crook, but because he worried the girl would see him differently now. a killer, even though he wasn't lying when he said he hadn't pushed the man down the stairs. he had a different plan entirely. he knew she didn't believe him, and it killed him inside. he had a need for her to see him as good. he knew she was good, he was convinced of it. a good natured, tender-hearted girl. a sweet girl, that he desperately wanted to find a home in. neither of them belonged in this world. he wanted to shelter her from it, keep her safe from anything that might distress her. he wanted her to want to find solace in him as much as he craved to find it in her. he waited until he heard the shower shut off and knocked at her door, waiting until she gave him permission before he entered.
she looked impossibly small in the shirt he gave her, and the way her arms and face ached red from rubbing away at her skin with the rough washcloth made him want to hold her as he did before. he wanted to guide her into the bed, back pressed against his chest and let her fall asleep in his arms. he knew he couldn't. he didn't know what was happening to him, but he felt the inescapable desire to take care of her. he thought of his best friend harry, and how he’d ridicule him over the fact. him and harry couldn't be any more different, but he missed the boy nonetheless. he wondered if he could take her to meet him.
she rubbed her arms self-consciously at the way he stared at her, and he cleared his throat awkwardly, “i’m, uh, gonna be downstairs, if you need anything, just let me know.” she only nodded. she hadn't said a word to him in over an hour, and even though she knew she wanted to speak to him, she didn't know about what. instead, she climbed into the bed and watched as he shut the door behind him. her legs drew up to her chest and she let her head fall onto her knees. lock the door, she thought. she had grown to trust him only a miniscule amount in their short amount of time together, but she knew she should go the extra mile just to be safe. she stood up slowly, making her way to the door. she stopped for a second, her fingers lingering on the lock.
she didn't know that peter was on the opposite side of the door, fingers lightly pressed against the wood. his breathing was even, and his head fell in self-disappointment. a voice inside his head, a persistent whisper, urged him to break the barrier of silence between them. talk to her, it pleaded, yet he remained rooted where he stood in uncertainty, the weight of his unspoken thoughts fueling his inexplicable yearning for her.
she picked at her fingers again, “i should talk to him,” backing away from the door ever so slightly as she pondered on the idea. she felt at a loss; simply too much had happened in too little time, and she felt exhaustion weigh down at her. she stood there for a while, feet shuffling with unease, and peter made his way downstairs.
peter navigated the unfamiliar surroundings with a sense of disquietude. each step he took felt heavier, burdened by the weight of unresolved tensions. his thoughts circled back to the closed door upstairs, a metaphorical barrier he couldn't bring himself to cross. he wandered aimlessly in the dimly lit room, the desire to reach out, clashed with the fear of rejection, created an internal struggle that mirrored the one unfolding upstairs.
the sound of a creaking floorboard broke the silence. it was her, retreating to the bed. he paused, the echo of her steps reverberating in the quiet house. for a fleeting moment, he contemplated returning to her door, but he remained now sat on the couch, his leg bouncing with anxiety as he chewed at his fingernails. the distance between them felt immeasurable, each lost in their own labyrinth of thoughts and emotions. the longing for communication lingered, a silent plea that hung heavy in the air- and he felt suffocated. he gripped at his hair harshly, letting out a pained groan as he tried to ground himself and his emotions. he hated feeling so lost, it made him feel like a boy again. he hated that feeling. he thought about how he could open up the gap between them to talk to her, show that his intentions are that of kindness.
he fell asleep with his body half-off the couch before he could come to a conclusion.
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@dumbsoftheart, 2023
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Ingreadients: Katsuki Bakugou x Gn! Reader Contains: break in, minor violence, reveal of crimes, mention of drugs, swearing Words: 1413 Taglist: @loveing-eyes
Masterlist Another love <;- Part 2 ... Part 4 ->
The chime of the door cut Bakugou's musings abruptly. That had to be Deku. He stormed up to the door and opened it forcefully. "Kachan! It's great to see you again." Izuku greeted him with a cheerful smile, but the blond one cut him off right away. "Y/n got kidnapped. You must assist me." He nearly shoved him inside. "Wait a minute, hang on." Izuku stumbled inside and was able to remove his shoes. Bakugou just sat him on the couch and played the video for him. Midoriya's cheerfulness faded as he watched the footage with wide eyes. Izuku started his usual murmur. "I thought they went on vacation." "They didn't want to go on vacation. They fleed from me." He growled and began to confess everything "They fucking fell in love with me and couldn't bear the fact that I married someone else. After they confessed, I followed them to stop it. I lost the car, and as I found it, Y/n wasn't inside anymore. The police didn't believe me, and my wife is a useless piece of shit. We need to save them." Bakugou didn't try to sound desperate, but he, in fact, did sound desperate. “I will help you.” sighed Midoriya. The green-haired hero got up from the cozy couch, ready to catch the culprit. “How long are they missing?” He was now completely rational, back into hero mode. “20 hours by now.” “Kacchan, we need to get going. If they are missing for more than 24 hours, they are probably…” “Don’t you dare say it? They are alive and well. They're a hero after all.” Growled the blonde one. Izuku nodded sadly. He knew how important you were for Bakugou. He could risk destroying the hope his friend had.
Bakugou called a Taxi, and they began to wait. An awkward silence formed, and Izuku tried to ease it. “Why did you marry Aiko, when you have feelings for Y/n?” Bakugou rubbed the bridge of his nose. He had to realize how stupid and childish his behavior was. It was something he would always regret. “Aiko's father made a contract with me. He promised to get me famous to become the number one. To do so, I had to marry his daughter since she always wanted to marry me.” he took a deep breath, full of regret. “I got blinded by my youthful wishes that I lost track of what I really wanted.” He cursed himself. Why did he had to be so dumb? “Y/n is an understanding person, they will forgive you. I am sure of this. But we have to find them. Surely what you did was wrong, but you tried to achieve your dreams at any cost, you always did this. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. That was a trait I always admired, but this time you took it too far.” Izuku tried to cheer him up, and Bakugou was glad he called him. Even though Kirishima was a better companion, he knew that Deku could always bring light into his darkness. Bakugou only hummed to acknowledge the kind words. A loud honk got their attention, and the mission began.
Katsuki paid the driver and joined Izuku in the alleyway. Both of them were looking into the dark. There seemed to be no clue. Izuku roomed around the dumpster trying to find the empty syringe while Bakugou searched for clothes of you or anything else you could have left there. They turned around every stone and trash back there is, but not a hit is to be made out. “God damn it fuck. I will kill this fucker when I find them.” His screams resonated through the tight alley, scaring away all the rats. His hands were forming loud explosions, and he made holes into objects near him. “This fucker steals my love. They will suffer their worst nightmare. I will fucking kill them.” Izuku knew this threat was not like in high school, not crude like back then, now it was a true statement. A threat Bakugou would gladly put into action. He continued to rage, throwing the trashbags around and sending explosions through the air while cursing loudly. “For fucks sake. How could I be so fucking stupid? Why the fuck? Fucking hell. Fuck this bullshit.” His voice cracked, but he refused to weep. He was Dynamight, and he didn't cry. Never.
He calmed down over time. “We should pay the police department a visit.” Said Izuku with a mischievous smile. Bakugou instantly stopped his antics. “What do you mean?” Izuku rolled his eyes. “You know. We break into the police station to get the files of the weird driver. He has to know something. Maybe he was just too confused that he kept silent.” Deku explained calmly.
A psychotic grin adorned Katsukis face by now, and he dragged the green top hero behind him. “I like you even more now. You’re not a goody two shoes anymore.” Bakugou mumbled as they walked down the alleyway. “Well, hero work changes people.” Midoriya winked, a bit flustered. “Don’t fucking talk. We need to get going, shitty Deku.”
Bakugou dragged him to the police station, and they both waited until the last officer locked the door. They hid behind the building and entered it through the back door. With a small blast of explosions the door opened. After the door swung open, the man sneaked into the building. “His files are probably stored in the archive,” whispered Izuku. “Yeah, no shit sherlock.” hissed Bakugou. They moved further into the building trying to avoid the security cameras. If a security camera crossed their path, Izuku destroyed it easily with Black Whip. They sneaked down the stairs into the archive. “Damn you almost stepped on my foot. Be a more careful idiot.” hissed Bakugou. “Sorry,” mumbled Izuku embarrassed.
They moved deeper into the basement, and Izuku turned on his mobile phone flashlight so the two could see what was in front of them. The hallway was littered with empty cells and at the end of it stood an officer, or at least he tried. He was so tired he almost fell asleep. It didn’t take long until he really did. His loud snoring could probably be heard throughout Musutafu. Izuku and Bakugou waited a little longer until he was in a deep slumber. Bakugou went ahead and signaled his partner in crime to follow him, with a wave of his arm. “We should take his keys. He is out like a light, he won’t notice,” whispered Izuku. Katsuki only looked at him with an expression that could be translated into This is my mission, don't boss me around. We will take his keys.
Izuku removed the keys from the officer as quietly as he could as Bakugou looked around. “I got them.” Bakugou only nodded, and they went inside the archive.
As the security door closed behind them, they could finally talk in a normal tone again. “Do you even know what his name is?” “Yeah, we unfortunately shared a cell. His name is Kaiyo Yamada.” Bakugou responded when opening several files. He was focused to gain some more information about this culprit that he lost himself in the different files. From murderers to smaller criminals the archive had it all. “Asas Kageyama, Light Yagami, Shogo Makishima…” Izuku continued to mumble the names he came across. “There I got it, Kaiyo Yamada.” Without hesitating a second, Bakugou snapped the file from his partner. “Great, let's bail,” mumbled Bakugou. They handed the keys back to the officer and left the police station, with only small damages. The cameras could be quickly fixed.
Y/n was now missing for almost one day. But the investigation gained further information on the case. As Bakugou breathed in the fresh air of the midnight city he realized how much he needed to find you, or else he would blame himself for his whole life. “Thank you Deku,” he muttered, but to his dismay, Izuku could hear him. “No problem, if you got any updates or need more help, I am just one call away. Good luck, I am sure you will find them.” Izuku smiled at him and then left into the darkness. Now Bakugou only had to study this file, and maybe then he could get you out of wherever you were. “Please don’t be dead, idiot,” he spoke to the sky and did the same as Izuku did, vanishing into the darkness.
#ami writes#mha#bnha#mha x reader#mha x gn!reader#bnha x reader#bnha x gn!reader#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou x reader#katsuki x reader
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