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midnight-mourning · 1 day ago

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Santa's Helper

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 25❄️❄️

Another silly one for y'all, I'll be honest this was 2 am Midnight who finished this and it's give or take on whether she cooks or not, but I'm gonna say yes for now :D

Prompt: Santa comes to the Daycare to see the kids, and reader dresses up as an elf to help out. A certain attendant thinks they look pretty cute~

Word Count: 1915

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When you initially saw the costume that had been picked out for you, you laughed outright. When you found out that you actually had to wear it, your laughter died in your throat.

"You can't be serious." You gestured to the outfit. "You actually want me to wear that."

Your manager had shrugged. "Santa needs a helper. You already work in the Daycare. Saves me some trouble."

You just look at the outfit with horror, no words for your distress.

It's an elf costume. Green, with red trim and a hat to match. It came with a belt, ears, and the same shade of green shorts. There were also red and white stripes tights, to your dismay. It was godawful and you hated it.

But, you didn't have a choice unless you wanted to be fired. And considering you had a job where you got to work with your crush(es) all day every day, you'd rather suck it up and put it on.

You understand why you had to be the one to do it. It had been your idea for Santa to come to the Daycare in the first place. You'd been pushing for it, honestly. Upper management hadn't seen the point until your argued how good an experience it would be for the kids.

Therefore, this whole thing was your responsibility, meaning that if you wanted things to go smoothly you had to cooperate so that this went off without a hitch. Besides, it wasn't just the kids you were trying to please.

When you'd told the attendants your idea, they were over the moon excited about it, while they knew better in terms of Santa being real, having someone come and surprise the kids like that was exciting to them. And to have your crush so thrilled about something you came up with? That feeling was too good to ruin it all over a stupid costume.

This is the mantra you tell yourself as you stand in the bathroom, having just put the majority of the costume on, save for the hat.

You look ridiculous, you feel ridiculous. But it's for the boys—the kids, it's for the kids.

You sigh and shove the hat on, staring at yourself even harder in the mirror.

There had to be some way you could make this work. You dig in your bag for your makeup, deciding add a bit of Christmas flair with some eyeshadow, and taking a pencil, draw little stars of various styles and sizes under your eyes and across your cheeks. You fix your hair so the hat looks cute, ish.

You look back to your reflection, it's not the best, but it's better than before. You take a deep breath, and finally leave the bathroom, trudging back to the Daycare. When you arrive, it's empty, save for Sun.

It's early, the kids weren't going to be here for another hour, and 'Santa' would be here around mid-morning, so your main goal for now was to get set up and prepared essentially.

Sun hears the door open and shut and turns from setting up the crafts station.

"Good morning, Sunbeam! How are—" He hesitates when he sees you, your ears start to burn. "—you... today?"

You sigh and drop your bag off in its usual spot. "Good morning, Sunny. I'm fine."

He walks over to you, staring down as his rays spin every so often.

"You look..." He mumbles something you don't catch.

You're sure it's probably nothing good. He probably thinks you look silly. "Yeah. I know. Let's just, ignore it, yeah?"

"Oh... Oh! Sorry friend I was um, distracted for a moment. What I meant to say is that you look wonderful! Perfectly in character for today."

You scoff half-hearted. "Thanks, Sun, but you don't have to lie for my sake. It's alright. I'm gonna go get started on Santa prepping, okay?"

You walk off then, completely embarrassed. Had you stuck around you might have heard Sun quietly utter. "But I wasn't lying."

Set up involves creating a holiday scene for where your Santa will sit. You're provided a big chair by management, and using some outdoor holiday decorations, and some spare sheets, create a snowy landscape. The long red carpet you'd found in storage ties up the scene nicely. Now all that's left to do is wait for the kids and 'Santa' to get here.

You sit down in the chair, flipping through your phone since you have nothing better to do. You can't recall who's playing the big man this year. You think it's that one guy your age from Bonnie Bowl, but you're not too sure. He was nice, you don't know why they picked him for Santa given his age and non-Santa look, but whatever works. You just hope he plays the part like he's supposed to.

As you're sitting there, you get the acute feeling of being watched. Sure enough, glancing up slightly you see Sun is staring at you, rays fluttering every few moments. You make eye contact and both flinch, going back to what you were doing. Several more times before the kids show up the same thing happens, and you wonder how bad this costume must really be for him to be so fixated on you.

The kids at least are excited you're dressed up. They say as much as they go about the day, all anxious for when Santa finally shows up.

And show up he does. You'll admit, the guy underneath that costume does a great job. He bursts into the Daycare, laugh loud and hearty and a sack over his shoulders. He carries with him an air of charisma that few can achieve when playing Santa Claus, and he's great with each of the kids.

Sun helps to get them organized while you get your coworker situated. While doing so you decide to try for some small talk.

"Thank you so much for doing this. It's really appreciated." You say, as you stack wrapped boxes that had come from the sack.

He keeps his voice low so to not blow his cover. "Yeah, of course. This is fun for me compared to fixing bowling lanes all day."

"How do you nail the character so well?" You shake your head. "You're like what, 20 something? No offense."

He laughs. "None taken. This is kind of embarrassing, but I'm part of an improv group. We've been doing a lot of holiday themed practice lately and they always make me be Santa because I can do the voice."

You two continue to chat back and forth for a few more minutes before the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts you. Startled, you turn around and see Sun standing there, hands clasped in front of him. He seems, tense? To be fair you are too, wanting this to go well.

"If you're ready, Mr. Claus. The children are ready to begin."

Your coworker gets into character again, laughing. "Of course! Thank you Sun, let's get started, shall we?"

Sun nods, walking back to manage the kids in line and you frown. But, shake it off as the first kid runs up, starting to rattle of his Christmas list the second he's sat down.

The event proceeds exactly as planned. No upset kids, no arguing over gifts, no crying either. Everything is perfect.

Well, near perfect.

You're slightly distracted by helping out your coworker, but you notice how Sun looks over to the two of you every so often. You're not entirely sure why. Yes, your coworker is being incredibly friendly with you, talking directly to you and throwing compliments your way. But it's all in character of course, it's not like he's not keeping up the act as he does it.

It does click to you however as he leaves that there was more to it than just that.

You're by the door, saying goodbye and thanking him again, when he pops a question you weren't expecting.

"This was a lot of fun today. Besides cheering up the kids, I really liked talking to you." He ducks his head a moment, then looks back to you. "I know this is like, not the optimal time for it but would you um, want to go out sometime? Maybe get a coffee and chat?'

Oh. Oh no.

You hadn't been expecting that at all, you can't even begin to think up a response.

Fortunately, you don't have to. As a certain someone interjects.

"So sorry to interrupt! But I'm afraid you're out of luck, Santa." Sun steps forward, putting a hand on your shoulder. "They're taken. Better luck next time, but thank you for stopping by! Buh-bye now."

Sun all but shuts the door in his face, leaning over you to do so. Then he looks down to you, as you're still gaping like a fish.

He stands upright and turns back around, you hear him clap his hands behind you. "Alright everyone! It's time to enjoy your presents! Remember to play good and play fair, alright? We're going to go have playtime of our own, but if you need anything we'll be there to help!"

Sun takes your hand, and starts leading you through the Daycare, you stumbling behind him as you register what he said finally.

"T-taken?" You squeak as he marches you to an abandoned section of the playset. He ducks inside, pulling you in with him and then sitting down.

He points to the spot on the ground across from him and you get the hint, taking a seat.

Once you do, he speaks. "Yes. Taken. If you'll allow, that is."

"N-no, no complaints here. I just, um. Really?"

Sun nods. "Mmmhmm."

Something clicks then.

"Wait a minute. Sun, are you jealous?" You reach a hand out to set on his leg. "I hardly know that guy, I wasn't expecting him to ask me out! I um, I've had a crush on someone else, well, someones else, for a long time."

"Who?"

You laugh, not being able to take it. "You, silly! You and Moon both. Trust me, some guy from Bonnie bowl wouldn't be able to change that—"

You're interrupted by Sun's smile meeting your lips. Followed by him doing it again several times over, hands coming up to hold your face. Once he's satisfied he pulls away, sighing.

"Sorry, Starlight. I, um, got a little excited hearing you say that. I didn't mean to interrupt you, what were you saying?" There's a dreamy lithe to how he speaks, it makes you giggle.

Your hands come up to hold his, leaning into his touch a tad more. "Honestly, don't think it really matters at this point. I'd rather be doing more of that than talking right now, to be honest. Just wish I wasn't in this silly costume for all this."

Sun kisses your forehead, then presses his against yours.

"I think you look very cute. That's... part of why I acted so rudely. I was upset he got to see you up close like this."

You chuckle. "Well, you get to see me now, don't you?"

Sun hums in agreement.

"Then, let's make the most of it."

As you share another chaste kiss, you have to come to the undeniable understanding that you may very well have to thank your manager for making you wear this costume.

Another kiss distracts you from thinking further.

On second thought, maybe you'll keep this one to yourself.

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Thank you for the fun little request @twomanypockets!! I thought that jealous Sun would go perfectly with it, hope you liked it ^-^

Thanks for reading!

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Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a

#fnaf dca #dca fandom #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #dca fic #x reader #mm dca december #starting strong this morning for the sun lovers #moon lovers you will have your meal shortly #i prommy <3 #anywho 2 am midnight was feeling.... something #also btw sun's still watching the kids through the cameras #he's lovesick but he's still semi-responsible

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chameleon66 · 19 hours ago

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Her Funny Bunny

Author’s note: I haven’t uploaded a fic in a while (Because who thought depression and high school was a good combination). I just really haven’t found the spark in a while but I just really want to write something for Jax as he’s a very controversial character in the TADC fandom and I think he could be a real sweetie. I’m doing much better now and I hope to upload more in 2025 (But no promises) . I hope you enjoy this fic I wrote and have a good day/night.

Warnings: Cheer up tickles, teasing, angst, mean jokes (Let me know if I need to add anything)

Word count: 2907

It was quiet at the moment, which was pretty abnormal for the life of a cast member in The Amazing Digital Circus, but the only reason it was quiet was because the adventure hadn’t started yet. Right then the gang were all hanging out in the main area playing charades.

You know, just trying to enjoy a bit of normalcy before Caine comes to take them to that day's adventure. It was Ragatha’s turn while Zooble, Gangle, Pomni, and Kinger had to guess, they had all taken note of Jax’s absence but didn’t bring it up as no one saw it as something worrying or they didn’t want to bring it up for fear of bringing down the mood (cough, Ragatha, cough)

At the moment Ragatha was standing up waving in a highly sophisticated manner then grabbing the skirt of her dress and curtsying down. While the others tried to guess who she was.

“Some kind of queen?” Gangle thought out loud.

“Or princess?” Pomni added.

“An insect collection.” Kinger guessed for the 57th time.

Ragatha then blew a kiss out to them and said “The brave knights have arrived!”

A look of realization came across Pomni’s face and she said “Princess Loo!”

Ragatha stopped mid motion and nodded at Pomni who immediately cheered for herself.

“Great job Pomni.” Ragatha praised it, it was nice seeing everyone being so happy and casual. “Okay, Zooble, your go.”

Zoble groaned but regardless stood and went to the middle of the circle they had formed, they stood for a moment clearly considering who to pretend to be, then as if a lightbulb went off her eyes flashed then the illusion of a smirk came across their features.

Zooble crossed their arms over their chest and began tapping their foot rapidly against the ground with a scowl on their face. Clearly pretending to be mad.

Everyone went into thinking but Ragtha did make a mental note of how it was similar to how Jax would thump his foot against the ground when he was upset.

Then Zooble placed one fist on her hip and let the other fall before she broke out into improvised words, in a tone of voice that felt more alive than her normal tone. “I’m indirectly communicating to you all that I’m unhappy that no one is feeling sad so now I must go forth and cause pain and suffering because it’s the only way to cope with my big scary feelings.”

The others all began laughing though tried to cover their mouths with their hands, it was clear who Zooble was portraying but they were laughing too hard to try and guess.

Happy they got a reaction encouraging Zooble to keep going. “Oh yeah I’ll gladly jump off a building but heaven forbid a ear of corn crosses my path, cause otherwise I’ll hide under the nearest couch and shake as if the corn had threatened to kill me.”

Now everyone was practically dying of laughter while rolling around on the ground. Even Ragtaha was laughing quietly behind her hand.

Ragatha’s non button eye drifted away from the group only for her laugh to go silent and her smile drop as her eyes landed on the tall purple rubber hose cartoon looking rabbit who was partially hidden away by the wall of the other room.

Jax clearly wasn’t trying to hide his reaction though because his foot was thumping softly against the floor, his eyes were big with hurt yet with small square shaped pupils trembling in them and his ears were droopy. Small things one probably would think meant much if they hadn’t been secretly dating Jax for about six months.

A quick side eyed glance back the others told Ragatha they hadn’t become aware of the youngest cast member's presence. But when Ragtha glanced back Jax wasn’t behind the wall anymore instead walking out towards the others with a grin a bit too wide adoring his face.

The others still hadn’t noticed Jax until he was right behind Zooble until Jax spoke up. “Hey looks like something’s got you all in stitches, care to let me in on the joke.”

Everyone was gasping between laughs but Kinger calmed his first and then said. “I honestly don’t remember what we were doing.” Before falling back in hysterical laughter.

Jax only shrugged his shoulders before walking closer to Zooble before stopping just behind them. “Oh well that’s ok. I’ll just create myself something to laugh at.”

He then grabbed both of Zooble’s arms detaching them from their body and throwing them across the floor and through the door that led outside the circus tent.

“Ugh! Jax you f%#king @$$ho/e!” Zooble yelled as they began to make their way back to their missing limbs while Jax laughed at their misery, though it didn’t escape Ragatha how Jax’s laugh stopped and his face became less animatedly happy when Zooble was out of ear’s reach.

The awkward silence wasn’t long though as a grand puff of smoke transported Caine above their heads as he shouted “Good morning my little superstars! Who’s ready for a grand adventure?”

The adventure that day was pretty small, they were taking turns running an obstacle course Caine had made and whoever completed the course in the fastest time would be dubbed the winner.

Each of them went one at a time but it was clear that none of them were really built to be athletes as all of them even failed to complete the course. It could’ve been because they were all not very athletic or because Caine had added fire, razor blades, sharks, bees, and other stuff to make the course more ‘exciting’.

Between each person’s turn they all just stood off and watched them, while waiting for her turn though Ragatha noticed how docile Jax had seemed to become, while he was still making sarcastic comments and jokes at others expense they weren’t as sharp as his normally were.

She also saw how he had distanced himself away from everyone with his face being all glum with his normally ever present smile not there unless he knew somebody was looking at him.

By the time everyone had run the course, Caine declared that no one had won because no one finished so that meant they got no reward. After Caine had reset all of their avatars to rid them of their injuries he sent them off to go and do their own thing for the rest of the night.

Jax and Ragatha went with each other to Ragatha’s room to hang out. They walked in silence which was something else that concerned Ragatha as Jax was never quiet. Had Zooble’s comments really gotten to him that bad?

Ragatha really felt bad for Jax, sure he was a jerk to the others but just like everyone else here he had his whole life taken away from him when he put on that headset and being a jerk was just his way of keeping himself sane.

Ragatha knew she couldn’t let Jax just keep being sad so she decided to employ her best tactic guaranteed to cheer him.

Once they reached her room she opened the door and let Jax walk in first before going in after him. She shut the door behind her and readied herself to set her plan into motion.

“So Dollface, don’t you think it’s not far I didn’t win despite making it furthest on the course.” Jax sat down on her bed with one leg crossed over the other. Target achieved.

“Oh totally Jax.” She famed a sweet tone, then made a soft turn to face Jax. “If that is your real name.”

Jax’s ears and eyes perked up as he looked more directly at her in confusion. “What?’’

Ragatha smirked. “How do I know that this isn’t one of Caine’s tricks and that you’re one of his NPCs pretending to be Jax.”

Jax titled his head and lifted one eyebrow. “You’re taking crazy Doll, I’m not some dumb NPC.”

Ragatha’s smile only grew more mischievous with that comment. Of course she knew it was Jax but there was no he’d accept this without hearing a good reason first.

“You sure?” Ragatha leaned forward til her face was inches from Jax’s. “Cause earlier me and the others were playing charades and Zooble pretended to be you, which made me realize just how easy you are to impersonate.”

Jax’s face flushed a darker purple though he tried to hold the stern look on his face. “I’m not an NPC Rags, I’m Jax, your extremely handsome boyfriend.”

At last, the final part of Ragatha’s improvised plan was set. Now it was up to her.

“Well then you wouldn’t mind if I ran a simple test.”

Jax’s face now read as more curious above all else and seeing no sign that he wasn’t down to clown (As he would say) she wasted no time running then pouncing on top of him. Effectively holding him down with her own weight as Jax might have been the tallest in the circus but due to his thinness he was also very light weight wise.

She then proceeded to grab his sides with her plush doll hands and began to mercilessly squeeze and poke at them.

Jax’s goofy smile went back to his face and his face got blushy as he laughed. Ragatha immediately rejoiced at her small victory so far.

“Hahahahaha how is this hahahahaha helping?” Jax tried to squirm in her hold but her hands persistently remained on his form, attacking his waist with vigor.

“If you are truly my Jaxxy then I’d expect you to be just a precious sweetie while being tickled.” Ragatha explained, though she kept her true motive unsaid.

Through the months of them secretly being together Ragatha had come to see that Jax was a very affectionate guy who more than anything wanted to see her smile. So she had noticed whenever she was down, Jax would take the first opportunity when they were alone to tickle her until she swore to him she felt better.

And after she got him back a few times she had come to see that tickles were just one of Jax’s ways to show love. She had read in a book from the library Caine had for them at the circus that people sometimes project how they want to be shown love and do it to others in hopes they start doing it back.

Though he had never admitted to her, she had seen it in how genuinely happy he seemed after and how he always wanted to remain all snuggled up against her after too. So if there was one way she knew to make Jax feel better, it was tickling him to a pulp.

After Ragatha felt that Jax’s walls were down she spread her hands up to his ribs and began to get at them causing Jax’s laugh to jump up and become super cackly.

“Ragathahahahaha! It’s reheheheheheheheally mEHEHEHEHE.” Jax pleaded through his forever shut teeth.

“Hmmm-.” Ragatha hummed in consideration. “Jax is pretty ticklish on his ribs. But I think I better keep going for a little longer just to be sure.”

“Nohohohohohohoho! Ragdoll! Hahahahahahahaha.” Jax kept trying to squirm away from her hands but whenever he did her other hand would tickle the other side harder causing his body to try and squirm away from the opposite hand.

“You do have a super endearing laugh like Jax.” She observed

“You also have a lovely smile like him, you squint your eyes tighter when I hit a particularly bad spot.” She poked her fingers into the soft spots just below his ribs to prove it, and sure enough Jax’s eye shu tighter hand he let out a squeak with it.

“You also aren’t even trying to get me off you just like Jax..” She continued rattling off small things Jax was doing, keeping them sweet yet teasy which effectively flustered him.

“Wehehehehell Mahahahahahybe I’m Just lehehehehetting you hahahahahave your fun.” Jax retorted, trying to defend his lack of attempts to escape.

“Oh really?” Ragatha questioned, her eyes locking on her next target for tickles. “Since when is my boyfriend known for being a gentleman?”

“I cahahahahahahan behehehe nice whehehehen I wahahannahaha.”

“I’m still not quite sold on you mister.” Ragatha brought herself up and kissed the spot where Jax’s nose would be if he had one, making his laugh go all squeaky with a gentle hum to it.

“I had better do one more test just to be 100%.” Ragatha turned her body around and sat in front of Jax’s feet. Despite her now being off him Jax didn’t make an effort to get away from her despite most likely knowing where she’d be going. Instead just laying there limply trying to catch his breath.

Ragatha gave him a second to breathe before she took both of his feet in her arms and while holding them in her grasp with one hand she used the index finger on the other hand to gently tickle the silly pink heart paw pads he had on his feet.

Jax absolutely lost it. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHOHOHOHO F%#K NOT THEHEHEHEHEHRE!”

His feet had always been one of those spots where you didn’t need a lot of force in your tickles to make him squeal like a tea kettle.

His feet had always been Ragatha's favorite tickle spots too, not only because it got the best reactions from him but also because his feet were just adorable to her. They had the appearance of paws with three toes and paw pads on the bottom of them. but the full anthropomorphic functionality of feet.

She was also happy she had chosen to sit in front of him to hold his feet because now she got a great view of his cute face, which only got cuter when he was being tickled. His eyes scrunched together, his ears flop haphazardly with his head as his body twisted trying to escape the tickly sensations, and his smile would be genuinely sweet and freaking precious.

Unlike the mischievous or fake smiles he’d give everyone else. This smile was only for her eyes.

Ragatha’s hand stopped ticking up and instead opted to gently trace each of his paw pads, starting with the biggest one then moving up to his toes then back down.

“HEHEHEHEHEHEHE! IT TICKLES!” Jax was giggling as the sensation was now a bit too soft to provoke his loud boisterous laughter from him.

“My Funny Bunny boy does have very ticklish feet, doesn’t he?” Ragatha’s tone now was softer along with her tickles.

“YEHEHEHEHEHESS HE DOHOHOHOHOES.” Jax agreed with her.

“Cute soft paws, squishy sides and ribs, yep that solves it.” Ragatha released Jax’s feet and she watches as he curled up while still giggling.

“I guess that checks out, you must be the real Jax.” Ragatha sat and watched Jax as he slowly stopped laughing and sat up to face her.

“Well I could have told you that.” He remarked with a playful eye roll.

Ragatha chuckled, “Yeah, sure you could.”

Jac then dramatically flopped back down on her bed, his head landing on one of the pillows near the headboard. “Come now Dollface, join the Funny Bunny Boy. You know you wanna.”

Ragatha fought to hold back her giggle at her boyfriend's silly antics but she was already moving towards him as she said back. “Alright I’m coming Jax.”

“Awww… No sweet nicknames.” Jax pouted.

Ragatha rolled her eyes as she settled on top of Jax and laid her head down on his chest while placing a kiss just under his chin. “Don’t worry Jax, you’ll always be my sweet little bunny.”

Her hands went in different directions as one went to his free hand to rest in while the other went up one of his ears to begin petting and rubbing it.

Jax sighed as he sank deeper into her bed letting himself enjoy the feeling of his ears being pet and the pressure of his Ragdoll over top of him.

Ragatha smiled, her plan had been a massive success, her boyfriend was now happy, relaxed, and his mind had been taken off the other’s hurtful words.

Cause no matter how hard Jax denied it he was still a human who put up a false image of himself, this cruel, mean, unshakable guy, just because that’s how he protected himself from the fear of being forever trapped in a video game and never being able to free. As much as Gangle and Ragatha pretended and wore a mask, Jax did too though his was far better concealed.

“I love you Jaxxy.” Ragatha whispered only to realize that Jax had fallen asleep. With a sigh she pulled her quilt over them both and let rest come to her as she laid in her boyfriend’s arms.

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lemonstars8583 · 3 days ago

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hello 😈😈 uhh ppl are gonna see this and be like “huh” but i don’t ❤️ care very much at all ❤️

so remember that CTW AU is posted abt well here’s where bonbon is 😭 !! hooraaay!!

there’s that weird minigame in into the pit (the game) that has bonbon so i was like okay in this AU millie isn’t even dead so like. that minigame wouldn’t exist but what if… bonbon… in real life instead..

so Oswald finds bonbon deactivated in the weird ballpit world (and yes i have an explanation for this i’ll leave it under the cut as well as some extra info), accidentally wakes him up, and bonbon does not fucking like him but he’s like “okay you’ve been here before and left?? let’s make a deal i’ll help you survive and you get me the fuck out of here”. so it’s like a reluctant alliance turned eventual friendship.

TLDR: Freddy gets in a fight with baby, badly injured, thrown out, taken in by Jeff’s Pizza when it was a bit more popular, kids climb on him daily and eventually break his arm off, bonbon falls into ballpit and freddy can’t find him. he gets thrown out again because kids have trashed him. a few years pass while he’s stuck in the junkyard and bonbon is unconscious in the ballpit world in the past. Oswald finds him and they

If that sounded interesting here’s the full ramble ⬇️⬇️

Considering one of bonbon’s functional purposes on funtime freddy being a lookout (bonbon is described as “parental tracking/360 pivot” on freddy’s blueprints.) I think he’d use that to help Oswald and act as a lookout, keeping track of where threats are and informing him when one’s coming closer and from what direction. he would try to trick him sometimes out of pure mischief though.

also i think bonbon himself probably wouldn’t have that “kill kids when they’re alone” programming just because he’s so small so he wouldn’t get the job done quickly, he would probably only tell freddy “hey nobody’s around, get that kid” so with freddy not even there he isn’t much of a threat to Oswald unless he chooses to be.

AAANYWAY how bonbon got in the ballpit ❤️ keep in mind a lot of this is entirely from my brain. at this point we’re getting into “entirely canon divergent” levels of AU so be warned

i thought it would be funny if freddy and cb got into a fight and cb just beat the shit out of him. based on 2 things: 1. the fight when they kicked baby out of the ennard hivemind and 2. a roblox rp i was in 😭😭 LOLL it wasn’t a serious rp (at least not on my end, i think the person playing CB was being for real) but it was so funny i loved it

SO anyway i figured the only reason they were able to beat baby was because it was all the funtimes working together and because they were kind of all equally distributed in ennard. i think if it was just funtime freddy trying to fight circus baby he would 100% lose she’s like a foot taller than him

so freddy gets his shit rocked, and management is like “we’re done with this guy he sucks” and throws him out. Jeff’s Pizza picks him up like “hell yeah weird mascot thing” and puts him in the ballpit room to stand there and let kids climb on him. eventually because he’s still pretty broken his arm breaks off from the weight of a bunch of kids hanging on it and it falls into the ballpit. later on he goes looking for his arm and bonbon and can’t find either of them.

the pizza place ends up throwing him out because the kids are just trashing him and he ends up in the junkyard where millie’s grandpa finds him years later. I’d imagine in that time he would become an urban legend of sorts, wandering around looking for things nobody can find, and taking the life of the occasional kid who’s out past their bedtime. He’d become more jaded and cynical instead of his former silly self during this time too.

HI GUYS FUTURE LEMON HERE i had this in drafts and now im looking at it again. there’s a detail i forgot! while time passes in the ballpit world, no time passes in the real world 😃 fuck! SOO that kinda fucks this story up but ALSO. this is an AU. i can do what i want. and i don’t think the story will be too horribly affected if i just disregard that? so that’s what im doing 👍

#digital art #my art #into the pit #fnaf into the pit #oswald into the pit #bonbon fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fazbear frights

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coirinthyurilo · 3 days ago

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Imagine Will with actual light powers.

Okay. Look. Will call canonically light-bend or something. He can glow.

If that's not light-bending, I'm sorry. Argue with the wall.

Now continuing. I will be listing the usage and possible abilities for this kind of power. And it's consequences or disadvantages.

First off, LIGHT BEAMS.

He CAN do that. In TSATS, he shot an entire light beam from his chest onto Epiales. (Nightmare demon.) And he literally disintegrated. Now imagine light beams coming from his hands.

With enough training he could literally hit an entire monster and watch it disintegrate. Like imagine. How cool is that?? Considering light burns. He culd burn people using the power of the sun. Maybe even cast sunburn or something.

But the problem with this is that it causes a whole lot of energy from him. And he would collapse. After shotting one or two light beams he passes out. Going more extensive than that. He could be sent into a coma.

And maybe with the concept of light burning other things. He could literally melt shit. He could possibly even burn flesh and people by accident if he's not careful enough.

But there comes another problem with this. He could get blisters, swollen skin and burns across his body. But if he can heal while doing that in the process then it wouldn't be a problem. The other problem is that— that shit? Would literally drain him. To probably the point of his life force he could die.

Next. BENDING LIGHT.

He could cast an entire ball of light, like a little hodable sun in his hands. He can turn light into so many things. And physically shape it.

The problem is that he gets a nosebleed while doing this. And him casting an entire portable sun on someone. (Which can burn and melt shit.) He could even start vomiting blood. And maybe to the point he lost so much you can see little strings of light passing through his veins as a desperate attempt to replace whatever blood he lost.

And there is this thought I had. That he could make little strings, like he can physically make a strong of light, and use it to probably lasso someone or use it as a rope. He can even use this as away to lead himself through the dark.

But doing this for too long like an entire week of bending light like over extension of use with healing probably would cause him to have maybe migraines. Which could be extremely intense and cause him to pass out.

But this could be useful for lighting up paths as long as he doesn't continue to do it over and over again.

Next LIGHT-TRAVEL.

Nico would actually uno-reverse on him about the "stop shadow-travelling" on Will doing this. But I'm pretty sure if he does ever light-travel extensively he could actually die.

Similar to how Nico almost faded into shadows the only thing about Will is that it could drain him so much he could die.

Similar to how Nico's shadow travel work. The more people and the more distance from his place to another could take a lot out of him.

For Will? He could die and possibly lose his divine energy or something that power all demigods to do their powers. To the point it makes him mortal but it goes even father to the point he could die.

But it would be so cool in a whole lot of orher scenarios but that's all I can think of for Will's light powers or smth.

Feel free to add more though.

#pjo #rick riordan #riordanverse #will solace #pjo headcanon #will solace headcanon

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mothmothwoth · 10 months ago

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Welcome home neighbor! It’s so quiet

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funky-dealer · 2 years ago

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i don't really like touched all that much but damn id be lying if i said its artstyle for promo art was shit. wanted to do a piece imitating it ft. quasar !!! say hi guys !!!!!!! shes here !!!!!!!!! oh my god !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

alts under cut

#aidan art tag #oc ~ quasar #i referenced wario's promo art for this piece. ive wanted to draw quasar in his pose for a while now cuz i thought it looked cool #and well i think it turned out pretty alright all things considered #it gets pretty weird trying to draw her in unconventional angles like this one so im happy with the result #and yes i know the jagged outline thing is from twisteds art but i wanted to try it here too okay

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blackthorndryad · 2 months ago

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#im so so so so tired #i want good things happening to me #im tired of saying “well at least ---” or “it could be worse” bc i want it to be better #we all deserve that #it shouldn't be always this difficult or fucking unbearable #i know there are people who have it worse #but see???#i dont want to feel ungrateful for thinking “my life sucks in several ways” and being afraid of things getting worse because of that #i feel like if im ungrateful things will get worse #but they're pretty fucked up anyways lol #so whats the deal #anyways I'm in a bad mood #my grandma died and i miss her so much and i feel kinda numb like “it was expected” and ???#i want to cry my eyes out because of her but no #i guess my grief for my father's passing made me normalize a bit death idk #but it's not okay that my grandma died no matter her age #and im mad that the world keeps spinning #and im mad that im not better #and im mad because my fucking computer wont turn on when i need it the most #i wanted to writeeeee #to stop thinking #i also wanted to start considering the idea of playing dnd online but i guess i wont be able to for the foreseeable future #ugh im mad #i want to sleep forever bye

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krysmcscience · 4 months ago

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Did somebody say Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear? I think somebody said Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear. Thanks to that, have these retooled The Good Place jokes:

The "powers that be" can refer to either the Theraprism staff, the Axolotl, or just. Ya know. Disney in general. Or all three! Whichever you think is funniest. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The "party" Bill's referring to is Weirdmageddon, of course. He was quite the ashhole to everyone back then.

Ford has probably gotten pretty good at the 'tune out your psychopathic ex with dank memes' challenge.

It must be very cathartic to be able to make Bill shut up whenever you want with just the press of a button. I'm sure Ford doesn't abuse this ability at all.

Oh, sure, 'Not now,' he says, before he immediately backs out of the newly-made hole in the Theraprism wall. 🙄

Don't worry, Bill doesn't get far.

also yeah i know this one doesn't have an attempted swear - i just wanted to use the joke because of the massive stink-eye involved in it because it makes me laugh

⬇️ More goofs beneath the brief ramble if you wanna skip it lmao⬇️

Why is Ford even there, you might ask? Well, he either decided he preferred to watch Bill suffer in person over being distantly and repeatedly harassed with the same evil desperation book for the rest of his life, or he got roped into some kind of contrived community service for 1.) all his many counts of interdimensional thievery, and 2.) his ignoring all the very clear warnings to NOT summon Bill in the first place (which I like to imagine is also illegal). Theraprism staff were just like, 'Wait, this guy matters to Bill? Ooh, we can USE that! It might be the only thing that can help him want to get better!' It is not considered that throwing Ford at Bill so soon after Weirdmageddon could instead make them both WORSE - in new and altogether special ways! :D

Anyway, I'm calling it the Community Service AU, and I am most likely not going to do anything else with it beyond appropriating these silly Good Place jokes. So, feel free to adopt the concept if y'all wanna??? Just make sure that Bill is still not allowed to swear, no matter what, full stop. It's gotta be a real linguistic corkblork of a situation for him, is all I'm sayin'.

Finally, have these bonus Good Place jokes, but with Handyman!Bill this time:

'Opposite tortures' doesn't sound so bad...at least until it's an all-powerful chaos entity known for torture saying it.

you may think i forgot mabel's cute pink cheeks but the truth is that i did in fact forget but then immediately stopped caring which makes it okay, SHHHHHHH

And, finally:

lmao this is shit

True facts, if you cram Season 1 Eleanor Shellstrop and Michael into a singular triangle shape, they turn into Bill Cipher. This is science, look it up. Or don't, and just trust the source that is me, bro.

Anyway, I should be in bed, y'all have fun with these, I guess. Tune in after like a week or so and maybe I'll have an addendum to my comic about how Bill was drawn naked for karaoke night. Because him actually being naked was not the only thing I considered as a plausible explanation. XD

Also if you see any inconsistencies or errors in any of these comics, No You Do Not :D

Also also, reblogs are rad as hell and I appreciate every single one, just don't repost, please and thanks. Every time a repost is made, an artist somewhere cries. :,)

#fanart #gravity falls #billford #bill cipher #stanford pines #stanley pines #dipper pines #mabel pines #pyronica #handyman bill au #book of bill #the good place #incorrect quotes #heck yeah i'm tagging billford - cuz these old men are EXES #jfc i said i wasn't going to color any other gravity falls stuff i made - and then what do i do?#i fukken color all of it #i may have a problem lmao #the green area outside the theraprism is because i forgot what was outside it and just went 'lol greenscreen idgaf'

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sofrosine · 6 months ago

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sorry i just thought case and olly

attractiveness:

repulsive / hideous / ugly / not attractive / unappealing / not unattractive / meh / no preference / ok / mildly attractive / nice looking / cute / adorable / attractive / pleasant on the eyes / good looking / hot / sexy / beautiful / gorgeous / hot damn / would tap that / perfect / godlike / holy fuck there are no words.

personality:

grating / irritating / frustrating / boring / confusing at best / awkward / unreasonable / psychotic / disturbing / interesting / engaging / affectionate / aggressive / ambitious / anxious / artistic / bad tempered / bossy / charismatic / appealing / unappealing / creative / courageous / dependable / unreliable / unpredictable / predictable / devious / dim / extroverted / introverted / egotistical / gregarious / fabulous / impulsive / intelligent / sympathetic / talkative / up beat / peaceful / calming / badass / flexible.

how likely they would have sex with them:

not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending / fuck no! / never / no way / not likely / not sure / indifferent / I’m asexual / maybe / probably / it depends / fairly likely / likely / yeah sure / yes / would tap that / hell yes / fuck yes! / wishing that could happen right now / as many times as possible / we are already having sex.

level of friendship:

never in a million years / worst of enemies / enemies / rivals / indifferent / neutral / acquaintance / friendly toward each other / casual friends / friends / good friends / best friends / fuck buddies / bosom buddies / practically the same person / would die for them / true friends / my only friend.

first impression of them:

i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them.

current impression of them:

#hear me out here: i’m not gonna speak for casey because i don’t think he would like olly. but. that aside.#i’m attacking this from a more well adjusted olly perspective a la post-therapy #he’s all i know.#first off out of the gate case i’m sorry you’re a very pretty boy but olly is one of the straighter children of mine. not totally straight.#but.#think declan.#he knows what a good looking man looks like. and if the conditions were right? well. maybe.#mostly though i think that olly would be achingly desperate to have someone like casey as a friend #he doesn’t have a lot of those and the ones (one. he has one.) he does have are the type of people that balance out his occasional #volatility #olly doesn’t really trust people very easily all childhood things considered and i doubt he’d trust case right out the gate either #but i also think he’d find a kindred spirit in a lot of unexpected ways #obviously they had very different home lives and i don’t intend to compare casey’s accident to olly’s miserable adolescence #but i think that they’ve both been low. like really low. and i think they’ve both looked down the tunnel of ‘does this ever get better’ and #have had their moments when there doesn’t seem to be any light shining out at the end #i don’t know. olly looks at what casey’s been through and kind of hates himself as weird as that sounds. like this guy can go through all #this and turn out okay? stubborn as hell and a little sad but okay? meanwhile all olly feels is anger and hate and self pity.#i think he’d admire casey for that even if he doesn’t know how to articulate it #anyway. from a superficial perspective i like the image of them being farm boys together. drinking on the back porch. accidentally starting #fires out in the back field #driving dirt bikes into ditches #pals. i hope.#c: oliver sinclair #foc: casey walker

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exopelagic · 7 months ago

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I am baking cake at midnight and it is going to kill me <3

#it’s just gone in the oven which means at least 25 minutes and probably more like 45 bc I made a Lot #am also kiiiinda winging the recipe so my expectations are on the floor #this is. for a bake sale. pray for me #I’m gonna make the icing tonight and leave it in the fridge overnight I think for tomorrow morning #this has gone wrong at every available opportunity it was 100% not worth it #however! given the prices my friend wants to sell this at i May have turned this into like over £100 which isn’t bad #TWO CAKES. WHY AM I MAKING TWO CAKES #I’m procrastinating washing up the stuff I used to make the batter (hell) bc itssosososo messy and I just wanna shout abt stuff #primarily that I am once again so upset that I only get one more week of ice hockey before summer #there are two parts to this feeling: 1. I love ice hockey I’ve been having such a good time this past week while I’ve not had to stress #abt anything else. 2. gay. gay gay homosexual gay #like okay I’ve been worried abt whether this is an actual crush or I just convinced myself I like him bc pretty+queer #(because of course I can worry abt that). BUT yeah sorry no can confirm I like this dumb fuck this is so unfair #we talked a BUNCH last night and he’s just really cool.#ohhhh fuck I don’t think the oven was properly preheated bc I opened it for a while to fit the two tins in. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#anyway!! he’s really fun to talk to someone help like if he does turn out to be single I could in THEORY text him over summer. maybe.#his birthday will be coming up and my friend suggested that. I’m being insane but oh my god this is torture #I ALSO watched the newest dr who episode today and that did NOT HELP. one of the first things in a while that have given me like #this same specific feeling when I get into gay romantic media. the ‘reading gay shit on wattpad at age 14 feeling’ if you will #where there’s like this weight in the pit of my stomach. it’s NICE that doesn’t sound good but it is #is this what straight people get with romance all the time. I know I just don’t watch/read much anymore but also #there’s straight romance in literally everything so.#but yeah basically I need another month of fuck around time minimum when everyone’s in this city so I can get my shit together #ALSO. I ONLY HAVE A YEAR LEFT HERE. THATS TERRIFYING. a year is a long time but it’s also not this one disappeared and this is like.#WAY too early to even consider that but he’s gonna be here probably for a year after I leave and that could suck if anything does happen.#I guess in theory I’m taking a year before phd probably so I could work here. idk man anyway that one is actually insane of me I’m just gay #boy 😔. they shouldn’t be allowed to do this #on Wednesday he’ll be done with exams and so will my other friend who knows him well. so I will be able to 1. subtly see w her if girlfriend #2. potentially. MAYBE ask what she thinks I’m just trying to decide whether that’s too much to put on her. I think I’m being insane there #luke.txt

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steviescrystals · 8 months ago

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guys things are happening

#so i met this girl at work last summer and we clicked right away and we were super close for a while #and it was really only a few months but i considered her one of my best friends #and then both of us got promoted to basically shift leads and right after that things just got really weird between us #i never figured out what exactly happened but it was just like tense and off which sucked bc the time before that was so much fun #but i just pushed it aside bc i still wanted to be friends with her and i was hoping it would just pass i gués #and THEN a couple months later she got promoted to store manager which was… shocking #i want to make it super clear i did not want to be manager and i truly was not jealous of her job #but i just did not think she was the right choice for manager bc after working super closely with her for months #i had seen her do sooo much shit that was either not allowed or just like not correct and straight up kinda dumb??#but none of the higher ups knew about it bc i would always help her fix her mistakes bc she was my friend and i wanted things done right yk #so anyway she became manager and our friendship just got even weirder bc suddenly she was my boss and i did not think she was a good manager #as much as i still loved her as a person she just got on my nerves a lot at work bc of the way she was running things #THEN a month after that annual company wide layoffs happened and i got laid off 😍 which i have vented a ton about on here bc it was awful #and the one bright side to it was that i thought maybe our friendship could start to go back to normal now that we didn’t work together #but instead she pretty much stopped talking to me completely aside from sending me a tiktok occasionally #so i was like okay this sucks but oh well i’ve got my own shit to deal with now that i’ve gotten laid off so i’ll just give her space #and tbh i was just hoping a band we both like would go on tour soon or something so i’d have a good opportunity to ask her to hang out again #BUT THEN she texted me a few minutes ago and turns out she just got fired???#which does not happen often at that job btw there’s very low turnover i think only like 2 people got fired the whole time i worked there #usually layoffs are the only time people end up leaving #and it’s weird bc i spent all that time thinking it was a bad choice for them to make her manager and she wasn’t doing a good job #but i’m still somehow surprised???#and i feel so guilty bc i talked so much shit about the whole thing with one of my other friends bc her management pissed me off so bad #and it’s not like me talking about it with someone who didn’t even work there caused her to get fired but i still feel so bad #like yeah i do think she shouldn’t have been manager in the first place but i would never wish that on someone yk #so idk i’m just like in a very weird headspace rn!!#vent #lj.txt

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reiderwriter · 9 months ago

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Isn't She Pretty, Daddy?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Teacher f!Reader

Summary: You're a little bit worried about one of your brightest students recently, so you call her Dad to come in for a meeting. Her absolutely adorable - and single - Dad.

Warnings: the birds and the bees as explained by a kindergardener. Some angst about being a single parent.

A/N: Here's another entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic Challenge! Dad Spencer has my heart, and I've been in a really fluff forward mood this weekend, evidently! I think I have one more Kid Fic left to go before the end of the challenge, but we'll see what the will of the fanfiction gods is...

Masterlist

If you were to be asked what the hardest part of being a teacher was, you would, without question or even a second to think, have an answer. Parents. The worst part of teaching is talking to parents.

Little kids were easy to talk to. They asked questions if they didn't understand things clearly, and they didn't typically say things they didn't mean. Adults were the opposite, and it just so happened that all of your kids' parents were adults.

Including your most recent problem child.

You were used to the kids in your class having some behavior issues - for one, they were kids, it was to be expected that their little bodies couldn't quite handle all of the emotions they were feeling at once. But you were doubly struck by your school area being close to Quantico, meaning half the kids in your care had families with law enforcement backgrounds.

Absent parents plus growing bodies plus normal kid stress equalled attachment issues, and your problem child Harper Reid was one of your more worrying cases.

You really hoped everything was okay in the Reid household, so you'd called the little girls parents. She was lovely - honest to god - one of the sweetest little kids you'd ever met.

Every day she came to school with some older kids and their mom, carpooling on the way in, so you had yet to meet her parents, but you thought that anyone who could produce something that sweet and cute and brilliant couldn't possibly be a bad person.

You didn't know what to expect, so when her little pigtails peaked around the corner and she came running in, you were momentarily filled with anxiety.

“MOMMY!” The little girl yelled, launching herself into your arms as soon as she spotted you behind your desk.

“Hi, Harper! Hi, you must be, Mr. Reid-”

“Doctor, actually, um, but that doesn't really matter. I'm so sorry about this, Harper doesn't usually tackle people.”

The 3ft tall ball of energy had managed to crawl into your lap and wrap her arms around your neck, so you had to pick her up when you stood to greet her dad.

“Will your wife be joining us for the meeting today?” You asked, already used to Harper's hugs and general closeness.

“Oh, no. No, she's not coming. She, uh, doesn't exist. Single father.”

“Oh my god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume, it's just not on my files-”

“It's okay, it's a …bit complicated.”

You took your seat at the desk and gestured to the man to do the same. Finally, looking at him for the first time now that some of your anxiety had died down, you couldn't help but think that Doctor Reid was incredibly attractive. It wasn't one part of his face that stuck out to you as being particularly pretty, just the entire ensemble of it together that took your breath away. Either that of Harper was gripping you so tight she was restricting your ability to breathe, and considering a five year old is not a boa constrictor, this was all dad's fault.

“So, you said on the phone Harper's been having some problems at school?”

You snapped your attention back to the issue at hand, searching for the relevant files and pictures you wanted to show the man. Harper turned herself around in your lap and looped her arms around your arm, pulling it in close to use as a pillow.

“Isn't Miss Y/N so pretty, Daddy?” You froze and flushed in an instant, suddenly so aware of the man's eyes on you. You weren't sure if you were thankful or even more embarrassed that Harper's dad seemed to be even more flushed than you.

“Daddy? Isn't she pretty?” Harper insisted, and you realized that you both weren't going to get out of this without him answering.

“Yes, angel. Miss Y/N is very pretty.” The little girl smiled in triumph and nuzzled into your arm even more, happily curled up into your lap like a cat.

“Hey, Harper. We got a new puzzle delivered yesterday. It's got My Melody and Cinnamaroll on it. They're your favorites, right?”

The little girl nodded in glee, eyes shining as she hung on your every word.

“How about you go over to the play area and get it started, and then me and your daddy will come over and help you finish it?”

In a flash, she'd hopped up out of your lap and wriggled away, shouting a quick “You promised, right?” behind her as she went.

“I'm so sorry about that, I don't know what's gotten into her, she's usually very shy and-”

“Doctor Reid, it's fine. That's just why I called you in today. Teachers and parents are a team, right, we work together to make sure the kids grow up well, you don't need to apologize to me for that.”

The man seemed to take a deep breath and nod, to regain his wits about him for a second.

“Is she… this attached in her regular classes?”

“Well honestly, she was a bit like that at the beginning of the semester, but she grew out of it after a while. In the last week or so, she fell back into it, and now she's calling me ‘Mommy,’ too. I was wondering if anything happened recently at home that could've led her in this direction, or…”

The man looked a little bashful, but there was a twinge of sadness in his expression that you recognised all too well.

“Harper, uh, doesn't have a Mom. I adopted her, and it's a long story, but... She's been asking me to get her one recently, because she doesn't really understand all that well? I'm sorry, I didn't know she'd do something like this. I should've done a better job at home-”

“Doctor Reid, raising a child is hard. It's so hard that humans usually do it in communities, or at least in couples. You're doing it alone, and Harper is already one of the smartest and most empathetic little girls I know. You're doing your job as Dad just fine.”

The man smiled at you and looked down, quickly wiping away a tear as you gave him a moment of privacy.

“So. If nothing at home set Harper off, we should probably go and ask her why she's calling me mommy, right?”

You stood, and he stood with you, leaving his satchel next to his chair and unbuttoning his jacket.

“Great. Sure, let's go see.”

Walking to the back of the room, you both smiled quietly, looking at the small girl. The 100 piece puzzle you'd guided her to was neatly arranged on the desk, pieces split into edges and centre pieces as she slowly looked at each one with a quietly focused face. Each time she found the piece she was looking for, her smile was bright as she connected it to the small part she was working on.

“Mommy! Daddy! I can't find the melody's face, can you help me?”

“Sure, Harper, we'll help you.” You moved to sit beside her at the tiny desks, giggling when the older Reid on Harper's other side struggled to fit himself in the toddler sized chairs.

Harper assigned you roles, and you all started quietly doing your jobs, waiting for Harper to focus again so you could ask her questions without agitating her.

“Harper, can you tell your Daddy why you call me Mommy?”

“Sure! You're Mommy because I want you to marry with Daddy.”

If you weren't already still flushed from her earlier comments, you certainly were lightheaded with embarrassment now.

“Harper, that's not how it works-”

“Yes, it is, Daddy! Henry said so. He said his mommy and daddy were sad one day, but then they were together again and they had a big party called a wedding and now they're happy, and that's why we have Michael.” You didn't quite follow from all the names and the story events, but it was evident that Reid did, so you waited quietly for his explanation.

“My friend. Her son was at her wedding a few years back. They have another son who is a couple years older than Harper, they come to school together?”

Your mouth made a small ‘o’ as you slowly filled in the blanks.

“Harper, you want daddy to have a wedding so he isn't sad anymore?”

The little girl gave a big nod and a smile, like she was so happy that she was finally being understood.

“Miss Y/N should marry daddy because he thinks she's pretty. Henry said that was important for a wedding, your mommy has to look beautiful.” You made eye contact with Doctor Reid awkwardly as she spoke, both of you looking away for fear of seeing the embarrassment on each others faces.

“And Miss Y/N wants a baby. So I will be Miss Y/N's baby, so everyone can be happy!” Harper's kid logic was a little hard to find fault with, but you still had to push back a little.

“Harper, why do you think I want a baby?”

“Angie asked you, and you said," the girl pouted, almost frustrated woth habing to answer all these silly questions.

"She asked you why you don't have a baby, and you said that you can only have a baby if you're married and that you wanted to have a baby when you were married. So marry my dad, and I'll be your baby!”

Harper's smile was so happy and content that you really didn't want to spoil her dream just yet. You continued putting the puzzle together for a few minutes in silence, the full picture nearly being complete now. Harper seemed to fidget a little in her seat next to you, pushing closer and closer to you before tugging on your sleeve.

You leaned down and she whispered in your ear - though you didn't doubt that her dad heard every word.

“If you really want, I'm sure we can get another baby like Henry got Michael. I'll ask my dad, but I think it's allowed.”

The poor man on the other side of the desk had to cover his face with his hands to stop the blush from showing, devolving to just straight up resting his head on the desk when his daughter kept going.

“A boy is okay, but my dad doesn't really know about boy stuff. Uncle Derek says that my daddy is just a pretty boy with a book brain. We should get another girl, so daddy can be not worry.”

The more you listened to Harper's adorable family plan, the more you just wanted to squeeze her tight and say yes and give her everything she wanted.

“Miss Y/N, once again, I'm so sorry for everything, I'll talk with Harper at home about this.”

“It's okay, I actually find it all very sweet,” you laughed a little and smiled back at him.

“No, I'm sure your boyfriend would be so uncomfortable if he knew that she was trying to marry you off-”

“Doctor Reid, are you trying to ask me if I'm single?”

The small grin that quirked his lips up was nothing if not unfair. He really was a very pretty boy.

“It was that obvious?”

“Yep.” You made sure the ‘p’ popped a lot as you both shared a small laugh. Harper looked up between you and smiled, too.

“So, can you get married now? Henry said you can do it really quickly, like in Grandpa Rossi's garden, and then you can go and do the secret part at home while Auntie Penny looks after me.”

“Secret part?”

“To make the other baby, silly!”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid kid fic

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yieldtotemptation · 2 months ago

Text

ANIMALS ft. Natty

natty x male reader smut

10k words

“All I’m saying is,” Natty starts, like she always does, with more unsolicited advice than you can handle at 2 AM, "for someone that complains so much about not having a sex life, you really don’t do much to fix it."

“And what, oh wise friend of mine, is your recommendation.”

“I don’t know. Get a haircut. Dress better. Try not being a massive pussy?” Natty shrugs. Or at least you think she does. Only so much you can tell over the phone.

You sigh. Bite back the urge to tell her to fuck off. But then, who else would talk you to sleep at this ungodly hour? So instead, you concede the point. “Noted.”

“Or, you know, if it’ll stop you from being such a little bitch,” and now she’s laughing, cackling really, and not once has that ever, ever meant anything good. "You could always just fuck me."

—

Two weeks and twelve hours post-Natty’s incredibly unhelpful suggestion that did absolutely nothing to alleviate you of your insomnia, and you’re back on the phone with her.

Only this time, there's video.

So, yay.

"Help me, please."

It’s a Friday and Natty's begging, again.

Because she knows she can count on you, knows that you’ve long since resigned yourself to your fate as Natty’s on-call ‘fixer’. There for everything from life-changing career decisions to helping her figure out what show to stream next.

And now, apparently, choosing her outfit for tonight.

“Help me, help me, help me, help me.”

God, this woman and her begging. Knowing full well that it’s your kryptonite.

"Okay, okay, okay," you're relenting, much earlier than usual. Mostly because as far as Natty’s petulant requests usually go this one’s a walk in the park. “But don’t you have people for this sort of thing? People who don’t, and I quote, ‘have a dogshit taste in style?’”

“It is dogshit!” Natty calls out, already turned around and leaving you (her phone) on the vanity, facing out to her bedroom and all its hideous pinkness. She disappears from the screen, diving deep into her closet for yet another pair of shorts that will most certainly hug way too close, or a top that dips way too low, or a pair of heels that scream—'hey, I have legs, would you like to spread them?' "But!"

Natty returns to the camera with a leather belt—oh no, that's a leather skirt—in hand; clad in nothing but a casual cotton bra/underwear combination that she’s filling out far too well for your sleep-deprived brain to handle.

She holds up the skirt against her waist for your consideration. Poses. It wouldn't cover a thing. Or maybe that's the point—again, you don't have any fashion sense, whatsoever.

“You’re a man, and I need a man’s opinion because I’m hoping to take one home tonight to fuck my brains out until I forget about this shit-storm of a week. So, you know—help a girl out?”

“As always, you have quite a way with words.”

Natty leans towards the camera, bending down to stare right at you. It makes entirely too much sense that she’s built an entire career around doing just this.

“It’s my third language, asshole.”

The insult lands softer than she likely intended, considering well, you’re a little too distracted to take it. It’s entirely her fault. The angle makes her tits look far too immaculate to pay any attention to her mouth.

Maybe she should consider going out just like this?

Yeah, that’d definitely get her fucked.

But, she frowns before you can make the suggestion, turning on her heels and sashaying back to her closet, leaving you to choke on air at the sight of her ass stretching out her favourite pair of panties. (The white pair with the pretty-pink bows. The one that rides up her ass when she stretches, bends, sneezes—basically any time she’s not standing perfectly still. And even then.)

Anyone else and this whole thing would be weird. Well, weirder than it already is.

See, you and Natty have this thing; this odd, cat and dog relationship that’s been going on since what feels like the dawn of time:

You’ve watched her shamelessly cycle through men faster than a teenager through a box of tissues, leaving a trail of broken hearts and broken cocks in her wake.

While she’s been forced to witness every time you’ve met ‘the one’, only to be there months later to help pick up the pieces when you’re burying your feelings in video games and alcohol and porn, wondering how it all went so wrong.

All this to say that seeing Natty bouncing around in her underwear with that laser-beam of a smile of hers; with all of her soft curves, thick thighs, her ridiculous ass and again, those immaculate fucking tits isn't that unusual.

In fact, it doesn't really do anything for you at all.

(Fucking liar.)

“Here, how about this.” Natty appears from the corner of the screen, having found a top that’s somehow made of even less material than the bra she’s already got on. The gall of her to ask, "Too much or not enough?"

You deadpan. “Does it come in adult sizes too?”

Natty grins, because she can read it right on your stupid face. She looks so, unbearably hot. Without even trying that hard. This bitch. “So just right, then.”

And then she twirls, leaving you to face her back, and before you even have time to blink, Natty’s bra has fallen down her shoulders; and you’re hating how you lean in to look because this damn app has no zoom feature to save your sorry eyesight.

Her fucking tits. Perfect, bouncy. Even through the pixels, even from behind, you can still see the way they spill.

She slips on her chosen top for the evening—a tiny, strappy number—and spins back around to face you in all her Natty glory. By the skin of your teeth, you’re looking away and leaning back, feigning nonchalance and leaving her none the wiser.

You think.

“You know,” Natty says, tilting to one side, hand on hip. Fuck, even that slightest movement makes them bounce. Utterly, utterly obscene. “You should just come tonight.”

You’re saying, “Fuck no,” before she’s even finished her sentence. ‘Coming tonight’ means ‘clubbing’, and ‘clubbing’ means being stuck listening to the shittiest music, surrounded by the worst people in all of Korea, drinking overpriced slop and watching Natty turn down a revolving door of douchebags on the dancefloor.

So, yeah.

If ‘fuck no’s’ were bricks, you’d be building the Great Wall of ‘Fuck No’, big enough for aliens on the other side of the galaxy to see with a fucking telescope and have their first contact with the human race be a giant ‘Fuck No’.

And that’s your polite way of turning her down.

Yet somehow, Natty’s hardly deterred.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Natty sing-songs, shuffling on her tiptoes, shifting her weight from foot to foot, making her entire body jiggle. It’s like she’s intentionally trying to sell you on the idea with every little movement. Make you believe that if you came with her, you’d be able to find someone who comes close to looking half as good as she does in that… whatever-the-fuck that is. Bralette? Crop top? Whatever. Fat chance. "Come on, come, come, come. Be my wingman please!"

You already have your second ‘fuck no’ queued up, but Natty just won’t stop fucking talking.

“Don’t you want to get laid? Don’t you think you need to have fun after what’s-her-name?” Natty continues, pouting at you through the screen.

And there it is, a study in how Natty usually gets her way—jutting out her bottom lip, digging her thumb into the waistband of her panties to expose just a smidge more skin, leaning just right to make her tits look like they’re about to pop out. It’s like she’s got a fucking manual.

“Don’t tell me you’d rather stay at home with Handalf the Grey than come out with me and all my hot friends?”

“You mean having to clean up after all your ‘hot friends’ and their bullshit while you run off to score free drinks?” You retort, recalling all the other times when she managed to entice you out of your self-imposed isolation and into the deafening, sweaty hellhole known as a nightclub.

“Said hot friends that you’re too much of a pussy to hit on, mind you,” Natty chides, and then oh-so-casually decides to drop this nugget: "They all like you, you know, they'd be more than happy to break this dry spell of yours if you just asked. Don’t act like I haven’t seen the way you look at Julie."

You can feel your cheeks reddening. You’re not a teenager. You shouldn’t blush at this shit. But here you are, falling for Natty’s words and their magical abilities to needle at your insecurities and fill your head with thoughts of her friends and all their... well, incredibly positive attributes.

Natty pounces on your lapse in composure and gets closer to the camera, crouches. Drops down so she’s on her heels and all you can see in that tiny window of your phone is the red of her plush, plump lips.

“Come, you pussy—”

“Natty—”

“Do it pussy—”

“Natty, if you think that’s going to work—”

“Pussy, pussy, pussy—”

You’re yelling down the phone: “Fuck, fine!”

Natty’s victory dance is already in full swing before the words have even left your mouth. Bouncing around her room in pure joy at once again having ruined your evening. Dancing in that barely-there outfit, treating you to entirely sinful ripples across her curves and dips, pure sex on a pair of toned legs. Really makes you wonder how the fuck is she not illegal in at least fifty different countries.

You hide your face in your hands, because there it is, the reason you’ve never really been able to deny her:

Her laughter, her energy, her fucking shameless glee whenever she manages to get her way (which, if you’re keeping count, is every single time).

She’s just so frustratingly adorable.

Somewhere in her celebrations, Natty finds exactly what she was looking for. Reaches down to the floor, picking up a belt—no, that’s another skirt—this one even tinier than the first.

“Oh, this is perfect,” she preens, holding it out to the camera (to you), before stepping right into it. She spins around, making it dance around her hips. It does wonders for her thighs. "How do I look?”

You swallow. “Like you’re going to get fucked tonight.”

The glint in Natty’s eyes. Like you’ve just served up the finest compliment on a silver platter. You feel sorry for whatever poor soul crosses her path tonight.

Natty winks. “Here’s to hoping.”

—

Guess what?

Turns out you were right: this is the worst place in the world.

Only, you’re the sole person here that seems to think that.

Hours have passed since you helped Natty look perfectly fuckable and you’re at the bar, trying and failing to get the attention of the bartender. Unfortunately, he, like every other male with a beating heart and a boner seems far more interested in Natty’s little dance routine than his thirsty clientele.

You can’t blame him, really. It’s built in how she moves.

Strobe lights cutting through the air like knives, slicing her into this series of absolutely pornographic snapshots as she dances. And she’s not alone, she has friends—beautiful, all of them, in their own ways. They spin and twirl around her; but Natty’s the sun here, the star that everything orbits.

(You included).

You see it play out—the Natty effect. Men, even women alike gravitate to her, drawn by that magnetic force that is Natty at her very best. Trying to get a dance, maybe whisper a line they stole from some movie in her ear, even dare to reach out to touch or press themselves up against her.

But she’s a black hole, a dark star. Can’t get too close.

One by one, they’re swallowed up by the void of Natty’s disinterest. The shoulders slump, the smiles falter, and the hope in their eyes dies as Natty, with a simple flick of her wrist sends them stumbling back into the crowd, forgotten almost immediately.

And the whole time she’s doing this, she’s got you in her line of sight. A wink here, a smile there, a dance on its own; and all you can do is nod and pretend like you’re okay with all this.

You inhale. Deeply.

Her outfit looks even tinier in person.

You turn away for just a moment, shaking off thoughts of Natty, of her hips and their sway and her winks and her smile; attempting (and failing) to flag down the bartender once more.

This fucking night.

But, when you look back, Natty’s no longer on the dancefloor.

She’s standing next to you. Arms looping around your neck.

“Natty—”

But she’s not listening. Her eyes are darting around the room, searching for something—or someone—that you can’t see. Your stomach clenches, because that look on Natty’s face? That’s not her usual I’m-about-to-make-some-poor-soul-my-bitch look. That’s something else entirely. That’s fear.

“Shut up, I need a favour,” she’s in your ear, yelling over the thrum of the bass that’s rattling your ribcage.

You lean in, bend down to meet her, because, frankly, you’re worried. You’ve never seen Natty like this, wide eyed and shaky. Never seen her be anything but comfortable.

You’ve also never been this close to her. Felt her breath hot against your neck, felt her body press up against you, felt her softness, felt her—

Fuck, you should be asking her what’s wrong, but before you can even do that, the bartender's filling two shot glasses and sliding them over to Natty.

She takes one. You take the other. It tastes lethal.

Natty’s nails dig into the back of your neck, and she looks at you, intense. Words fast and frantic. “Just pretend we’re together, okay? For a bit. Until I can figure this out. Just—just keep playing along, yeah?”

You blink. The room blurs around you. You think you might’ve misheard. “What?”

“Be my boyfriend,” she says, taking a second shot before you can even digest the first. “I need you. There’s some creep and I need you. Now, please?”

You turn immediately, scanning the floor, but the lights and shadows make it near impossible to make out anything other than vague shapes and strobes of colour, let alone pinpoint a face. "Natty, where is he, I can—"

"No, no, no," she cuts you off with a shake of her head. “Focus on me.”

“Wait, why do I have to—”

“Oh, shit there he is—”

And then she’s kissing you.

Ending whatever argument you may have had, because she’s grabbing, pulling you in, and her lips are on yours and oh fuck, she’s really, really kissing you.

It’s a slap to the face, and you need to reel in from the sting. Because you’re already forgetting what you’re doing, forgetting how your limbs work, because Natty’s putting on the performance of a lifetime and you’re having trouble keeping up.

Her hands are in your hair, yours at the small of her back, and she’s pulling you close, squishing against you and the taste of her—sweet like candy and sharp like vodka—filling you all the way up.

Your tongue catches up, flicking against hers, licking inside of her mouth and she’s even convincing you—as if she’s the one that’s always been into the love at first sight bullshit and you’re the non-believer.

And it’s a problem, how right this feels. Because this isn’t what friends do—definitely not Natty and you. But still, you can feel her tension, her need for this to be believable; and you don’t dare to fuck it all up.

So you kiss her back, because that’s what you do for Natty.

You always do what she needs.

You’re about to pull away; this should be enough to have every single person here convinced that you’re hers and she’s yours. But Natty’s already sliding her tongue back in your mouth, pleading, “Keep going,” the moment a gap opens between your lips; and you’re diving back into the kiss without a second thought.

And then you hear it.

A flash of a camera.

A cheer.

A whistle.

Julie, Haneul, Belle—Natty’s friends, staring at you like proud fairy godmothers witnessing their own magic at work.

You break the kiss. You look down at Natty.

She giggles.

You feel like a fucking idiot.

"There is no creep, is there?"

Natty shrugs, looks up at you, and she actually looks—what is this? Shy? Embarrassed?

"There could’ve been," she says, her eyes wide and innocent, a mask. You see through her like you should have when she first wrapped her arms around your neck. Oh sure, like she’s ever been innocent for a second in her entire life.

She’s far too smug for that.

You roll your eyes. You feel like every other idiot that’s ever fallen for a bat of her lashes and a peek at her tits. Hope is a hell of a drug, especially when Natty’s the dealer. And yet, despite yourself, the corner of your mouth quirks up. "You're fucking insane."

“Maybe.” There’s a long pause. She’s staring at your mouth. She presses a finger to your sternum. “But I had to do something.”

It takes a second. What?

What does that mean?

You stare at Natty, lick your lips. Her taste still lingers.

“Ask yourself the same question I’ve been asking myself for months now,” she says, louder this time, her voice cutting through the noise of the club and hitting your ears with a sobering clarity.

You know what she’s going to say—what she’s going to ask before she’s even opened her mouth. You’ve been asking yourself the same thing too.

So, swallow hard, try to ignore the way Natty’s friends have gone quiet. Try to ignore Natty’s hand still resting against your chest, her eyes burning a hole right through you.

“Why haven’t we had sex yet?”

The blood’s rushing to your cheeks; the music's too loud, the lights too bright, and the room's suddenly spinning around you like a carousel.

Fucking embarrassing.

But Natty doesn’t crack a smile. She just looks up at you. Hopeful. Searching you, searching your eyes for an actual answer; and you already know what it is.

“Because, Natty, we’re friends.” You offer up a weak smile, hoping against hope that she’ll buy it.

But she shakes her head. “Oh, please. Like that’s ever stopped anyone before. Besides, if you want to put a label on it, call it whatever the fuck you want. I just know what I need. Do you?”

You sigh. She gets closer. And closer.

Until your nose is brushing hers. Until her breath is hot on your face, until your heart is racing so fast you can feel it in your ears. Until her hand is sliding down, down, down, until it’s resting over your pants and oh, oh no, you’re straining.

You gasp. She smirks.

“See? You want it too. And I know you do, because, sweetie, your cock’s practically begging me to pull it out and shove it between my tits right here in front of everyone.”

She just throws it out there, so casually, so bluntly, she might as well be talking about the weather. And maybe, maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s just Natty being Natty, but fuck you can’t do anything but stay frozen still.

You’re letting her hand linger. You’re letting her touch you like she’s got every right in the world. You’re letting her because there’s a part of you—the part that’s growing by the second—that wants to see just how far she’ll take this.

“So, what is the real reason, ba-by?”

Because you’re in love with her. You’re in love with her, and you can’t just have casual sex with someone you’re in love with because it will ruin you.

But you don’t say that. Instead, you just tell her: “Timing.”

That makes her laugh. Has her closing what little gap remained between your bodies, until her tits are flush against your chest, and you’re coming to the conclusion that, yes, you did help her pick out the perfect outfit for tonight.

Perfectly, hopelessly, fuckable.

“Well,” she says, and she’s pulling you back down again and shutting you up with yet another kiss. “We’ve got all the time in the world now, don’t we?”

—

You’ve been here before.

Many, many times before.

You installed the showerhead and fixed all the cabinets yourself. Even secured the lock that you’re now unlocking with the digits that you coded.

But somehow, it feels like a first.

First time you’ve kissed her in the back of a car, pushed your hand up her skirt, felt the heat of her against your fingertips. First time you’ve pinned her against the wall of an elevator, made her feel just how desperate you were for her against her thigh, made her promise to be so good for you when you got to her door.

First time being pulled through the threshold, hands at your chest, tearing your shirt off you before you’ve even stepped foot in her apartment. Had her smiling against your mouth, because she’s won, again, and you can’t even bother to argue because you’ve lost to her so many times now that this shouldn’t be so surprising.

What is surprising though is how you’re naked first.

"Terrible, terrible taste." Natty's clicking her tongue as your shoes, your shirt, your pants are scattered along the floor behind you. “We’ll have to fix that.”

And then she’s moving on, hands clawing down your stomach to land at the waistband of your underwear, hooking her thumbs in and yanking down. You’re so obviously hard—you’ve barely made any effort to hide it from her—fuck, you pretty much flagged down the taxi with it.

"Holy fuck," is the first thing out of Natty's mouth when she takes a hold of you, feeling the naked weight of you in her palm. "You’re really not messing around, are you? I was expecting—"

"A sad, lonely little thing," you finish for her, because you've heard it before. "Yeah, you like to mention it a lot."

But Natty’s not laughing now.

She’s just staring. Almost reverently. She decides, her voice a little raspy, tinted with an apprehension that you never knew she was capable of mustering, "I like it. It's... massive."

You lean in, pressing your mouth against hers because if she’s going to say that, you’re going to kiss her, again and again, and there’s a strong possibility you're never going to stop.

She whimpers, gasps into your mouth, says your name for the first time—not some nickname, not a jab or an insult. Just your name, in your ears, like it’s something sacred.

You’re not a saint. You can’t ignore that.

Your cock jumps in her hand, and as if on instinct, she strokes you.

It's slow, purposeful. She's too good at this. Knows the right pressure, where to twist and wind her wrist. How to sweep her thumb over the tip, smear pre-cum over your skin, and this entire time she's staring down at your cock like she's discovered something new.

“This is going to ruin me, isn't it?” she whispers, and you nod, because your voice is lodged in your throat and she’s stealing the air from your lungs. “Going to fit so fucking nicely inside me. Fuck it’s going to stretch me.”

You groan, collapse your weight into Natty, press your lips against the column of her throat.

Both hands now, one underneath, toying with your balls, balancing them in her fingers, and the other doing its best to squeeze, to pump, to make you fall for her with every stroke.

“I can’t wait to ride this,” Natty kisses these words into your cheek, your jaw, leaves these marks all over your collarbone. “I wonder if I can fit it down my throat. God, can you imagine what it’ll look like between my tits?”

And that makes your cock throb.

Because face it, Natty has always had a way of getting into your head; is far too dangerous with her words, and she’s all too willing to abuse this power she has over you to get you do what she wants, which is now, apparently, fucking her senseless.

You let her, let her build and build this pressure, let it coil inside you, tighter and tighter. Until the need to feel her, all of her, is too much to handle.

Until you grab her, take her by the shoulders, push her—not hard, but firmly—against the nearest wall.

You’re not gentle about it, because Natty doesn’t want gentle. She wants rough, she wants passionate, she wants to be fucked and have her cunt worshipped by way of complete ruin.

She’s told you as much.

"That's more like it," Natty bites into your ear, grips your shoulders. She follows your eyes. "Let me guess, my tits?"

So, maybe she has caught you looking once or twice. Either way, you don’t care much for her top anymore, it’s served its purpose. You take a fistful of it and pull, ripping it right off her and tossing it to the floor with everything else that’s kept the two of you from tearing each other apart.

“Better?” Natty poses for you, puts her tits on display—and yeah, you were right all along. Fucking immaculate.

You take a hold of one, palm it; fill your hand with flesh, twinge those dark, plump nipples, because of course you’re going to. You’re going to pinch and squeeze and suck on them. You’re going to mark her like she’s already done to you. Mark them, with your teeth, with your tongue. Fuck, you’re going to make them yours.

But for now, you're just going to slap them, because you want to watch them jiggle up close.

You laugh. Natty does too.

"Much better."

And with that, you’re back on her. Kisses that are sloppy, wet, and filled with all the pent-up want that's been simmering for months. You don’t even know where to begin with Natty, but you start with her mouth. It’s a good place. It’s always a good place with Natty.

Her hand doesn’t stop moving, can’t, won’t. The friction is heaven; you just let her touch you, fuck her hand while you indulge in her tits. Get to know the weight of them, the balance, the softness.

A sigh into your ear as your tongue finally finds her breasts, deep and messy, sliding over her nipple—she’s already so sensitive, just a flick and she’s gasping. You’re not even trying to be precise anymore, not that Natty needs it, not that she needs anything but for you to enjoy yourself against her.

It all makes the room seem smaller, the walls close, surrounding you with the scent—cinnamon and sweat and something else that’s just her.

“See this is why fucking me is such a great idea,” she slurs against your shoulder, hand tightening, stroking you harder, faster.

You mumble an affirmative into her breast. It’s a miracle you can still stand upright.

“Isn’t this so much better than like everything else? Anyone else?” She sighs, breathy, sweet sounds, as she takes you by the wrist, guides your hand southwards.

Fingertips graze her stomach, trace around her belly button and lower; until you’re digging into her skirt and feeling the heat rise off her skin. She’s soaked right through her panties, dripping with it. Another place for your tongue to land.

“We can just be fucking honest with each other,” Natty’s explaining, eyes tearing when your finger pads her clit, pressing down just right. “You already told me all the things you hate. All the things your bitch exes never let you do.” And she smiles, wicked. “Never had the tits to give you.”

Christ.

“And I can get you to fuck me exactly how I want with this big, fucking cock,” Natty finishes. "We’re a perfect fucking match."

It’s at that moment you find the zipper of her skirt, tugging it down, watching it fall to the feet. Leaving Natty to step out of the tiny scrap of fabric she calls her panties; abandoning the sticky mess of cotton.

You take a step back, unlatch your lips from her tits, because you need to see it. Need to finally see her, see your Natty, see the Natty you've never allowed yourself to look at.

So, take your time, drink her in—because the way she’s standing there, the way she’s touching herself now; biting her lip, sighing your name. All but saying, ‘Look all you want, but don’t you dare look away’.

Look at the arch of her neck, the red you’ve left there, that trail you’ve burned down to her tits. Bruised and swollen from your tongue, your kisses, and yet still not marked enough. Follow the curve of her hips; how they flare out from her waist, the plush squish of her ass cheeks against the wall behind her.

You want to kiss her, from the tips of her toes to the top of head; all of her, every part of her, because now she’s going to finally let you.

Because now you're going to fuck her until all she knows is you, going to make her scream your name, going to make her beg for you to fill her with your cock and cum and never ever leave her cunt empty again.

That’s the plan, anyway.

But Natty’s got plans of her own.

“Didn’t you say,” Natty begins, sighing, circling her cunt in a rhythm that you’re dying to recreate. She licks her lips. “That your last ex refused to suck that lovely, magnificent cock of yours?

"Yeah," you stammer, at a loss for breath at just the sight of it all. “And weren’t you trying to find someone to fuck your brains out?”

Natty’s eyes light up; and there's that easy, charming grin that knocks you right off your feet. "You’ve always been such a good listener."

—

Natty's plotting to ruin you.

It's the only possible explanation for the way she's looking at you right now—on her knees, at the foot of her bed, flanked by walls painted an ugly shade of pastel pink and Natty's tits, sandwiching your cock.

You’d imagined it, thought about it when you shouldn’t have been thinking about it. Whenever she brought you to watch her perform, whenever she sent you pictures of her outfit of the day. But your eyes always went there. Straight to Natty’s tits, every time.

You knew they were big.

You’ve felt them, on accident (though they don’t seem like accidents anymore).

But now, to have them enveloping your cock, drowning your shaft in their softness, and to have her, staring at your face with so much fucking excitement as she gives you everything you’ve ever wanted—it’s surreal.

You’re dying to paint them white.

“Looks like you’re already about to fall apart, baby,” she teases, and it’s even worse now that she’s calling you these sweet names, saying them like she’s always wanted to, like she’s finally letting herself. “Couldn’t wait, could you?”

“Fuck, Natty—” you breathe out, your hands finding her hair, tightening, because that’s all you can manage to do when Natty’s in control. Like she’s always been.

“Mmhmm,” she hums, keeping her eyes on you, making sure you’re watching, even as her tongue flicks out to taste you. A slow, taunting lick to make you buck your hips, desperate to feel the suction of her lips. “You must have been dreaming about this, huh?”

You don’t bother lying. She already knows the answer. “Every. Fucking. Night.”

Natty’s smile spreads across her face, and she rewards you with a kiss, pressing her lips down onto the head of your cock; before sliding them lower, eyes fluttering shut with the first taste of you. “Well, what took you so long? All you needed to do was show me your cock and I’d have been happy to do it whenever you want me to. Happy for you to use my tits as your cum rag. You know that, right?”

She moves; and the sight of it alone—Natty’s tits wrapped around your cock, bobbing up and down, hypnotising you with the flicker of her nipples—up and down, up and down. It’s merciless, unrelenting, and she keeps talking, keeps kissing these sweet little words into your cock that makes your hips jerk, trying to fuck her tits faster, harder.

"Look at how perfect you look," Natty keeps going, "how your cock fits so snug."

The sounds she’s tearing from your throat as her tits take you, and she’s barely even started.

“But we can do better, can’t we?”

Her pace picks up, and with it, the tightness of your grip on her hair. She’s pushing the ample mounds together, squeezing, putting her whole body into it, into this new art she’s pioneering. Driving you insane with just her breasts, making you swell between them, throbbing as she works you over.

“So big," she’s panting from just the effort, the bounce, bounce, bounce of it all, "I can feel you getting so much bigger."

Everything’s going too fast, her tits are too soft, her lips on you too hot, and she’s drooling, her spit dripping down onto your cock. You want to tell her to stop, that you can’t take it, but Natty just keeps going.

"Fuck,” Natty mewls, pinching her own nipples, for you, for her. Pinching and rolling them, making them nice and stiff and swollen. “Let me just try and—”

She cranes her head, bends; takes your cock deeper into the warm, wet heat of her mouth. Her tongue darts out licks your cock, gets that sweet spot on the underside, makes you shake underneath her.

Natty holds you there, even as you groan, even as your hips rise; just licks, spits, sucks. Her mouth moving up and down on you, making a mess down your shaft, down her tits. Taking you deeper, deeper, until you’re fucking her face.

She moans around you as your hips buck and you push deep, desperate for it. Her eyes water, her cheeks hollow, and she’s got you. You’re in her mouth and she’s loving it. Loving the power she has over you, loving giving you what she wants, loving how you’re pulling her by the hair, desperate to feed her more of your cock into her throat.

Like your entire relationship has been building up to this moment—to Natty’s tits wrapped around you, her mouth all over you, her eyes on yours, watching as you fuck her face.

"Fuck, Natty," you grunt, your voice barely recognisable. "What the fuck—"

But Natty's just smiling, you’re fucking that smug little smile on her lips, and she’s taunting you. "Come on baby, keep going, keep going."

It’s utterly obscene—the smack of her lips around your cock, her slobbering all over you, her gagging, her moaning around you, looking up at you and asking, “Is that all you’ve got?”

You're so close, so fucking close, and she knows it. Moving her tits faster, faster, and you're about to blow your load all over Natty's pretty face, her chest.

But she keeps talking.

Even as you stuff her cheeks, even as you muffle her, “None of those other skinny bitches could do this, could they, could handle this big, fat cock?”

Even as you force her down, pull her by the hair, “You’ve been so obsessed with my body, so obsessed with my tits, haven’t you?”

Even as her tits slide off you and your cock smacks her across her cheek, “I always saw the way you looked at them, fuck I was showing them off for you, you just took too fucking long to notice.”

She won't stop fucking talking.

You finally snap. "God, are you ever going to stop?"

But Natty just laughs, bats her lashes. Slides her tongue from your base to your tip. "Maybe you should find something to gag me with."

Your hand wraps around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her eyes go wide, to make her mouth pop open. She rolls out her tongue for you, and you know what she expects you to do, what she expects you to fill her mouth with.

But you don’t—instead, you fill it with your kiss.

It's deep, it’s bruising, it’s saying ‘fuck you’ in the sweetest way possible, without uttering a single syllable. Natty laughs against your mouth, a ‘fuck you’ right back with her teeth, biting down on your lower lip. Not breaking skin—not yet—but the promise is there.

Her hand leaves your cock to wrap around your neck, pulling you closer to her, her mouth eager for yours, and you don’t even think twice before you hoist her up, her legs wrapping around your waist. Giggling again—another sound that’s going to be your undoing—before you’re both stumbling back onto her bed.

The mattress dips under the weight of your bodies falling back into it. Natty straddles you, presses her cunt down onto your thighs. So wet you can feel it on your thigh, leaving your skin sticky and stained with her. Your hands move to her hips, dragging her closer, so you can feel the friction grinding against your cock, making you ache.

She breaks your kiss, gasping for air. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide—seeing her pant like this, it’s not even fair. She’s just so fucking beautiful, like a painting you’re afraid to touch because you might smudge it.

You tell her as much.

She blinks. Blushes.

Grins.

“You,” Natty breathes, her hand trailing down your chest, finding your heartbeat, resting there for a beat, two, “are so fucking in love with me.”

You don’t argue because she’s right.

Her hand slides up your arms, nails dig in and she’s got your wrists, pinning them over your head. You let her. Let her grind herself against your cock, feel the warm, wet heat of her cunt against the tip.

She takes her sweet time, melting herself into you, pressing her tits into your chest, and you can feel her heart racing against yours.

She whispers, “God, I’ve waited so fucking long for this.”

You can’t even form a coherent thought, so you just grunt.

“I’ve dreamt about this so much,” she continues, breathless words sending shivers down your spine. “Your cock, fuck, it’s just as perfect as I imagined. And now, it’s all mine.”

And then she does it—she sinks down onto you, slow and sweet, her pussy taking you in inch by glorious inch. You groan into her shoulder, your eyes shut as Natty’s tight heat surrounds you. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before; sure there’s been others but something about Natty’s cunt is so intense it’s almost painful.

“So tight,” you grit out, the words torn from your chest like they’re made of glass. She just laughs, low, sultry, and starts to move.

It’s a dance, a rhythm that’s been building between the two of you for what feels like an eternity. She’s rocking her hips back and forth in this torturous grind. Fucking you like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do, like she needs to make the most of it. Like you’re going to vanish into thin air the second she lets you go.

“I knew you’d feel this good,” Natty sighs into your neck, already surrendering to your cock. “Fuck, I knew it—why did you keep this from me?”

You can’t answer, not really.

You’re too lost in the feel of her, too consumed by the way she’s moving on top of you. Every inch of her body is pressed against yours, and she’s so warm, so alive, that you can’t think of anything but how Natty’s finally letting you in. How she’s letting you make her whole.

But it’s too much. Natty’s cunt, tight and wet, fucking you so slow it’s a fucking crime. Pinning you down, a butterfly on a board spread out, displayed, unable to do anything but take her sweet, sweet punishment. And she’s whispering it in your ear, grinding down, rolling her hips, “Fuck you. Fuck you for keeping this from me,” with every stroke.

She’s doing it on purpose, you’re sure of it. Driving you crazy, making you beg, making you want it more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life. Your hips jerk up to meet her, trying to speed things up, to get that friction you need, but Natty just pushes down on your shoulders, keeping you in place.

So you tell her, "This is fucking torture."

Natty just smirks, her hips never stilling. "Is it?" she asks, as if this all isn’t intentional. Like she doesn’t have some grand plan to ensure you never forget the things her cunt can do to you. "Do something about it then."

So, you do.

It takes more effort than you’ll ever admit, but you break her grip on your wrists, grab her hips, and flip her over, sending her sprawling onto the bed, face down.

The squeal from her. It’s music.

How her eyes go wide when you treat her like a ragdoll, how her tits juggle and bounce, smacking the mattress. And when you push down into her, slamming your hips into her ass, how she arches back into you, her back bowing like a fucking violin.

“Yes!” She cries, fucking cheers into the mattress, like she’s been waiting for this—for you to have had enough of her shit and take her without asking. “Yes, yes, yes—”

You hover over her, throb inside her. "Is this what you fucking wanted?"

Natty sighs into the bedsheets, urging her hips against you, begging without words, begging for you to do more.

“You want it rough, baby?”

“Yeah,” Natty says, pushing back against you again, nodding immediately. “If you can.”

Still with the provocations, unable to resist pressing at your buttons.

You grab her hair, yank it back so she’s staring at you, force her to look at you. And you fuck her hard. Fuck her like you’ve wanted to since the first time she walked into your life and decided to make it all about her.

You fill her with deep, long strokes, fill the room with the smacks of your hips colliding against her, of your cock thrusting into her cunt again and again.

She claws at the sheets, trying to find purchase, trying to push back against you. But you’re too strong, too desperate.

You pound into her, impale her with your cock, watch her face twist in pleasure, in pain. You’re fucking her like you’re trying to break her, like she asked. Trying to solve her—how hard can she take it, how deep, how fast.

But Natty won’t give you an answer, she just takes it all—every inch, ever pump into her sopping wet cunt. Just grins and takes every bit of your need, your frustration. A bottomless pit of pleasure, begging for more with every whine, every little noise she makes that’s not quite a scream but is so close that it rattles your brain.

And when you finally let go of her hair, Natty’s licking her lips, and without even a care for what it does to you, she coaxes, “You can do better.”

You don’t know how she can talk right now, how she can even think with your cock so deep inside her, but something about the way she says it makes you want to test the limits of her ability to stay coherent.

But first, there’s the problem of her ass.

“Let’s see about that,” you murmur, dragging your hand down her spine, feeling the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips, and coming to a stop at her perfectly rounded ass. It’s a masterpiece, a work of art, and you’ve always had a bit of an artist’s soul.

You do what comes naturally.

A spank against Natty’s ass. Hard, hard enough to make her yelp.

Again—another slap, another yelp, louder, better.

You keep fucking her, keep spanking her, keep watching red bloom across her cheeks and Natty squirm underneath you. The whines get louder, her cunt gets wetter, but it’s still not enough to dull that smug look on her face.

“Fuck yes,” Natty gasps, raises her ass, presenting it to you like a trophy for you to claim. “I always knew you had it in you.”

You grab her hips harder, your knuckles white, your hand a blur as it connects with her ass. It’s so explicit, the sound of it in the quiet of Natty’s apartment—each spank echoing through the room like a gunshot.

But Natty just takes it, her body jolting with each hit, her cunt tensing and tightening around you.

“God, don’t fucking stop,” Natty sputters, tears of pained pleasure leaking from the corners of her eyes. “You’re using me so good.”

You lean down, kissing hard against her neck, branding her shoulder. You want her to feel you, to remember you. To not be able to ever feel remotely good again without first thinking of you.

"It's your fucking fault, Natty," you growl into her ear. "You drive me mad."

And she laughs, the sound vibrating through her body and going straight to your cock. "Good," she answers, "Good. Be mad. Be angry."

But you’re beyond that now, beyond the point of no return. All that you know is Natty’s cunt, Natty’s ass, Natty’s moans, and Natty’s grin that you’re aching to wipe off her face.

"Fucking hate me if you want," she’s saying, and she can’t seem to stop, "just don’t stop fucking—ah!”

You nearly stop when you realise you’ve finally done it. Finally left Natty out of breath, lost for words. A fucking miracle, really—the kind that makes you feel like a fucking god.

It doesn’t stop her cunt clenching around you, tight as a vice, because even now, Natty’s got some kind of death grip pussy, and she’s using it to fucking kill you.

You whisper in her ear, “You like that?”

Her only response is a breathy, needy little whine, so you spank her again.

And again.

Her cunt tightens. She’s close, so close. You can feel it.

“You like it when I use you, Natty?”

She nods, her eyes screwed shut, her mouth crying into the mattress, a mess of hair and sweat and utter bliss.

“Say it,” you demand, slapping her ass once more, watching as the pain ripples through her. “Say it.”

And Natty does, because she’s a good little whore, because she’s yours now. “Yes, yes, I like it when you use me, when you fuck me like this, when it’s only about you, your cock, your needs, your pleasure—”

God, it feels good to hear her say it, but you still want more than just words. You want her to fucking scream it.

You make the bed shake, knock the headboard against her wall, it’s a competition of what’s going to break first—the frame or her.

“This cunt. Your cunt. I’m going to use it. Fuck it whenever I want.”

But Natty catches you off guard, because that’s what Natty does best. She opens her eyes, looks right into yours, and suddenly she has her voice again: “Whenever I want. You’re going to fucking move in with me.”

You freeze. Your hand mid-spank. Your cock mid-thrust. It throws you entirely off, because, what the fuck?

"You're going to be my boyfriend now," Natty says, wrenching back control, fucking her ass back into you. Stating not asking, leaving no room for argument. "Move in with me, your place sucks anyway."

"You're out of your fucking mind," you start to protest, but she cuts you off with another squeeze of her cunt around you, and now she’s the one fucking you, her hips rolling back and forth in this maddening, sinful way that has you biting down on your tongue to keep from shouting.

"Move in and just fuck me every day," she says, all light and airy, like it’s already been decided, like moments ago you didn’t have her dead to rights. "Morning to night. It would be so fucking nice."

This is real, you know that for sure. It’s not just something she’s saying to get off, not another way to get under your skin. You know it in her voice, she’s deadly serious and suddenly your mind’s racing.

"Come on," Natty purrs, punctuating each word with a slap of her ass against your waist, "You know you want it, why fucking wait?"

She’s not wrong. It makes too much fucking sense to deny. And yet, part of you still can't believe it. That Natty, the girl who's had countless men at her feet, could have any man at her feet, actually wants you. That Natty is underneath you now, eyes glossed over with need, mouth swollen from your kisses, ass cheeks flushed crimson from your palm.

"I'll take such good care of you, baby," she says, unaware that she’s already completely won, unaware that her cunt already has you bending to her will. "Every day, every night.”

You can't help but nod. You're too consumed in her to do anything else. You just let go of everything. The fears, the doubt, the fucking logic.

And Natty says it, the three words that seal your fate—"I'll love you," she cries out, "I'll fucking love you forever if you just keep giving me this fucking cock."

It's like the world stops, like everything you've ever wanted is right there in front of you, wrapped up in Natty's tight fucking body.

You're so close, so fucking close, that you can almost taste it—the sweet release of your orgasm; giving in to Natty’s unbelievably sensational cunt sleeving your cock, pulsing with each thrust, desperate to milk you dry.

There’s nothing left to do but give Natty wants. Fuck her, hammer into her so hard that you’re going to fuck a Natty-shaped hole into the mattress, fucking shatter her bedframe, and then keep drilling her straight through the floor.

And she’s crying out your name, forgetting about everything that isn’t you, isn’t your cock, isn’t the dream of your cum filling her to the brim and spilling out of her cunt every single day for the rest of your fucking lives.

“Are you close, baby? Are you going to cum for me? Please, give it to me, I need it so bad, I need it now, because I'm about to, about to, about to—"

And then it happens.

Fucking destroys her.

It hits. A crescendo that peaks as you bottom out inside her, shaking her to the core. Her cunt spasms about you, her body rises off the bed as if you’re performing a fucking exorcism, and she screams your name so loud it’s only a matter of time before the neighbours come banging on her door.

"Oh my fucking god you—"

Natty gushes around your cock, juices running down your shaft, your balls, and she’s squirting. Oh god, she’s squirting all over the fucking place.

Natty’s body goes rigid, her back arching so much it’s like she’s trying to fold in half, crying, sputtering these words that don't even make sense—until you realise she's speaking an entirely different fucking language.

Not that it matters, because you can tell what she's saying, read it in her body, in the way she's spurting and making a big fucking mess beneath your bodies. Whatever she’s saying sounds utterly depraved, filthy and so, so good to your ears.

It keeps going and going, until she has enough sense to speak your language again, needing to make sure you hear it when she says—"fucking fill me, baby," she whimpers. "Give me everything, all your fucking cum."

And it’s your turn to be hit—like a fucking freight train.

You're cumming, hard and fast and out of fucking nowhere. Your balls tighten, your cock throbs, and you’re flooding Natty’s cunt.

It’s biological, in every cell of your body—like your entire being is coming undone, and the only thing holding you together is Natty, Natty, Natty.

Her body shaking beneath you, her cunt contracting around your cock as wave after wave of cum fills her up.

She’s so fucking tight, so fucking perfect, that you can feel every pulse of your orgasm, every drop of your cum spurting into her. You're not sure how long it lasts, how much you give her, but it’s enough to make your muscles shake, enough to knock the architecture right out of your limbs.

"So fucking good, so fucking good," Natty coos. "Fucking finally, finally filling me up so good."

Her moans a lullaby, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body with every syllable. You lean down, burying your face in the crook of her neck, your every inhale and exhale ragged as you try to catch your breath. Still twitching inside her, still releasing the last of your cum, and Natty’s just lying there, her body limp, her eyes closed, basking in it all.

"So perfect," she keeps repeating, right up until the very end, “So, so, perfect.”

You collapse on top of her, just lie there shivering together, your face next to hers. She’s got this look on her face, a victorious glow, and you just have to accept it. Yeah, she’s won again, in devastatingly convincing fashion.

For a second, you’re both just that—spent, exhausted, entirely drained. Like you’ve just run a marathon. Or been in a fight. Or both.

Then Natty’s got the nerve to stir, to kiss your cheek with the tenderness of a whisper. Lips softer than you thought possible, given how hard she’s just been fucking you. And that’s it, the moment your body decides it’s had enough of playing dead, enough of lying there like a sack of potatoes.

You roll over, bringing Natty with you, her body curling into yours like she’s been made to fit there. Her head rests on your chest, her legs entwined with yours, and for a moment, you just hold her close.

It feels fucking right.

"Tomorrow," Natty sighs contentedly, her cheek finding home atop your heartbeat.

You blink. "Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, you're moving in tomorrow." Natty’s deciding for you already, setting the dynamic for the rest of your future. Doing all this with her eyes still shut as she snuggles closer to you. "I'll hire the movers."

You sigh, the weight of the world and Natty's body both feeling surprisingly light. You think about the next few days, the weeks, the years even, with Natty. The idea is so ludicrous, so absurd, that it feels like a fever dream.

But as you hold her, feel her warmth, her unabashed, blatant satisfaction, something inside you shifts. A reframing of the concept of Natty that you hold in your head. The thought of her naked body in your bed, her laughter in your living room, her mess in your kitchen—it doesn’t feel like an intrusion, it feels like home.

"Are you sure?" you ask. A little shaky, a little hopeful.

Natty opens one eye to look at you, a laugh playing on her lips. "Oh, you know I'm going to be the worst fucking roommate ever."

"Yeah, I can see that. But as long as you keep being the best fucking everything else..." Your words trail off into a whisper, your hand tracing idle patterns on her back.

And then she says it again.

"You’re so fucking in love with me."

Natty kisses you hard, deep, her tongue sliding against yours. And you know, you fucking know, that she's right. You are desperately, entirely, so fucking in love with her, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

You laugh, the sound a little desperate, a little wild, and roll her again, pin her down again. A strange feeling rushes through your mind. Like you’re going to be repeating this exact same motion for the next hundred years. And somehow, that doesn’t sound like the worst thought in the world.

Natty squeals, cheers, moans when you settle between her legs.

"Fuck you, Natty."

"Oh, baby," Natty giggles, reaching down between your legs, squeezing you. Once. Twice. Until you're filling her hand once more. "That's what I'm here for."

#kpop smut #natty smut #kiss of life smut #male reader

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