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to-the-stars8 · 6 months

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The Wayne's Nanny

Batfamily and Reader/ Bruce Wayne x Reader Chapters Ao3

9 to 5 (Metaphorically)

You had been working for Bruce Wayne for two weeks, and could for sure say that the kids were sweet, though a little out of touch with reality. Whether that was due to their father being the absolute weirdest man on the planet or from how rich they were— You didn’t know. Nonetheless, the days were long and tiresome. You wondered how you ever got through it.

8:15

First and foremost, you had to get up extremely early to see the kids off to school.

You fixed Cassandra’s headband on her head, making sure she looked perfect, before moving to fix Duke’s tie. Turning on your heel, your pink bathrobe swaying as you did, you quickly stopped Tim from pulling Jason’s hair.

“What did I tell you about pulling hair, Timothy Jackson Drake?” You put your hands on your hips.

With pink cheeks, he mumbled, “That karma will make me bald.”

“That’s right, and the last thing we want is to look like Lex Luthor, right kids?”

“Right!” They all mumbled.

Upon his approach, Mr. Wayne seemed pleased with how you managed the kids, even if it was in a less-than-professional way. When you fully turned your attention to him, you grinned, showing off his children. They looked good and healthy—Just as they did before your arrival, the only difference was that he wasn’t as tired.

“Okay, sweet babies, give daddy a kiss before Alfred takes you to school,” You ushered the kids toward their father.

Dick offhandedly said to Alfred, “Did I miss the wedding?” You lightly swatted the back of his head while Bruce was kissing the other children goodbye.

Slowly, the kids trickled out of the door, all of them saying goodbye over their shoulders. Now, you were left alone with Bruce and Damian, who sat securely on his hip.

The moment you turned to the two of them, Damian broke out into a bashful smile. You cooed to him, calling him the sweetest boy on the planet. Finally, you noticed Mr. Wayne again, “You should just leave him here with me. We’ll have such a fun time, huh, buddy?”

Bruce smiled at his boy, pushing his black locks back before addressing you. “No doubt, but I want him to socialize with other kids. The preschool at work is a fine one, too, and today is ice cream day.”

“Oh, my, then don’t let me hold you back! Let me get a kiss real quick,” A surprised look crossed Bruce’s face, but he slowly started to lean his cheek toward you. You swatted him away, making Damian giggle. “Not you!” You blew a raspberry against the boy’s cheek, causing a shrill laugh.

Before you could just snatch the little boy from his father’s grasp so he could stay with you, Bruce adjusted him on his hip before addressing you again. “You have enough to do for the day?”

You waved a dismissive hand at him, most of your attention still on Damian. “Oh, sure, my schedule is booked.”

9:50

Secondly, you made yourself presentable.

No one wants to see their employee running around in their slippers and bathrobes—Plus, Bruce already got onto about not dressing appropriately when some company had come over earlier that week. Luckily, being employed by one of the richest men in Gotham meant one thing; You could finally afford the champagne taste you had.

The only drawback? Beauty took time, so you spent a good chunk of the morning just making yourself ready to be ready.

You had to go through your entire skincare routine (of course, after lounging around in the big bathtub with the jets) before you finally went to your closet to pick out your clothes. Once you had something you decided did finally move on to your makeup. Not that you needed any, you thought, but there was no harm in adding beauty to beauty.

Eventually, the process of actually looking presentable came to a close and lunch was just around the corner. So, getting up, you looked at yourself one more time.

It was hard work being beautiful, but, damn it all, if you didn’t do a good job of it.

11:45

Of course, after you got ready you had to eat something, so, while Alfred meal prepped dinner, you sat while dishing out all the latest gossip.

As you shuffled a sandwich in your mouth, he told you all about Mr. Wayne’s previous relationship with someone named Selina and how it ended in absolute heartbreak. Supposedly, Bruce had been so heartbroken that he could hardly get out of bed and remained a recluse for months afterward. Alfred’s words, not yours.

“Oh, so not much has changed?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Alfred tried to hold back a laugh and leaned forward to quietly add, “This was three years ago.”

You smiled. “So I was right, not much has changed!"

Alfred snickered, turning to peel some more potatoes, and you took the opportunity to tell him your woes with love. It was a deep, tragic tale that could jerk the tears from any eye.

Except for Alfred’s, apparently.

When you were done, he filled you in on an even better story. One about the richest of the rich in Gotham, and every word he said had you hanging on by a thread. If you hadn’t met Alfred before, you would have never guessed that he was the kind of man to eavesdrop or have a big mouth. But, damn, if you weren’t thankful for it.

It certainly was the most entertaining and interesting part of your job.

1:30

After lunch came the hardest tasks. Usually, you cleaned the gaming room for the kids, did some laundry—mainly yours since the kids’ clothes were already washed— and watched TV. Again, it was all in a day’s work.

After vacuuming the rugs, you put away the kids’ toys, wondering momentarily just how much money Mr. Wayne spent on them. Looking at the designer clothes they wore, the latest toys, and gaming devices, you assumed it was well more than what you made in a year. When you had enough of staring at their expensive toys, you ventured into the laundry room.

Luckily, there wasn't a lot to wash, only some towels along with Dickie’s gymnastics clothes. When you had done the last load, you found yourself settling into one of the lounge chairs in the movie room.

This was your favorite part of the day, where it lulled just enough for you to relax again. The kids wouldn’t be home for another hour due to traffic, so you had to whole place to yourself.

Alfred sometimes joined you with a bowl of popcorn, but, since it was so close to picking up the kids from school he had to opt-out. At home, you would have been watching one of those usual daytime soaps, but Alfie had started to put you on EastEnders—claiming it was better than any other trash American daytime TV show. It was only after one character had a whole dramatic flare over the smallest inconvenience, did you started to see why it was his, and Bruce’s too, favorite show. He made you watch so much of it that you had started to pick up some of the British slang, which did not amuse him or Mr. Wayne.

You watched until an idea popped into your head. The kids would be hungry once they got home, as they usually were, so you decided it would be nice to make them their special snacks.

Happily, you put it all together, and, when the kids came home, you were excited to see their reaction.

3:45

It was almost like clockwork the way they always managed to arrive home exactly at the same time every day.

You greet all of them with a big hug as you tell them about the treats they had waiting in the dining room. Excited, they were pleased to see that, while Alfred was out picking them up, you had gone out of your way to make their favorite treats.

Tim grabbed his plate and exclaimed loudly that you were by far the best nanny they ever had. A few of the other kids agreed, and you tried to not let it go to your head so quickly. Yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to disagree with them.

They told you all about school, which, ultimately, just turned into a PG gossiping session. Tim told you all about this one kid, who was almost two years older than him, who always called him names and pulled his hair. Almost instantly, based on the last little detail, did you figure it out. Turning around, you looked at the second eldest Wayne who, despite being so sweet, could be devious and a little mean from time to time.

“Jason Peter Todd, you need to stop being mean to your brother. And what did I say about hair-pulling? At your age, you should know better!”

Jason gasped, looking around to gain some sympathy. “Why do you think it’s me?”

You cocked an eyebrow and that’s what made the cookie crumble. He confessed that maybe it was him and that he wouldn’t do it again. The rest of the table took their time calling him the future Lex Luthor, much to his annoyance.

You thought yourself lucky to be the nanny of such sweet kids, even if they were a bit weird. It brought back some happiness in your life that you didn’t know you were missing.

As the plates started to stack, you clapped your hands together and said, “Alright kiddos, once you’re done with your snacks, get your homework out. The faster you get it done, the faster we can all go play games.”

5:00

Finally, Mr. Wayne came home.

When he did, the entire house seemed to be in a clamor to get to him first. At least, the younger ones did. Dick and Cassandra seemed more interested if he had brought home any treats for them. When there was none, they turned on their heels and retreated into their respective tasks. That didn’t seem to discourage him though, and he was almost playful with the rest of the children.

When Bruce had thrown Duke over one shoulder and Tim over the other as Jason trailed after them, you took Damian. He had a pout on his lips, and tears in the corner of his eyes. When you asked him what was wrong, Damian informed you that ice cream day had been canceled because, in his words, the teachers were mean.

“Fair enough,” You said, taking him to the kitchen. “How about this, we get some ice cream and watch some TV, huh?”

Damian was close to crying, probably just as exhausted from the day as you were, but nodded his head. You gave him another kiss and let him rest his head on your shoulder. After you plucked a little ice cream sandwich from the fridge, the two of you went to join the rest of the family in the gaming room.

Bruce was there, tie and jacket abandoned, sitting on the couch playing Dick in Mortal Kombat. It didn’t look like Mr. Wayne knew exactly how to play, but he was getting the hang of it. Now and then, when there was a particular point he didn’t understand, Duke, being the sweetest yet odd kid ever, whispered to him what to do. Why a six-year-old knew how to play a game he was far too young for, you didn’t know.

Looking down at Damian, it was clear to see just how sleepy he was and you started to get up to put him in his room when Alfred stopped you. He offered to take the boy up and gestured over to Cassandra, who was looking at you with her big brown eyes.

“Hello, sweet girl,” You said as soon as Damian was gone.

Cassandra, who was sitting on the floor with a ballerina Barbie in hand, walked on her knees over to you. “Can you braid my hair?”

You grinned, looking at her pretty black hair. It was short, cut just below her shoulder, but you could make something work. She plopped down right in front of you and immediately you began to play with her hair.

Amidst playing his game, Mr. Wayne looked over in your direction to admire you and Cassandra. When you caught his eye, you winked and smiled. Bashfully, he looked back at the game. Unfortunately for him, Tim saw the whole interaction and started to loudly poke fun at his father.

Ultimately, that’s how the day went. It was a lot of work, and, again, you didn’t know how you did it. Yet, you were glad that it almost always ended so happily.

It wasn’t exactly a nine-to-five—It was better.

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hoodoo12 · 2 months

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Sweltering

First and foremost, fuck this heat. I've always preferred colder to warmer, and nowadays the summer is just a hellscape. Therefore, a story.

It's too hot outside, and The Ghost with the Most thinks he has a way to cool you down. NSFW.

It was stupid hot. Inside with no air conditioning was worse, so you were out on the patio in your backyard in nothing more than the thinnest tank top you owned and underwear. You’d brought a fan that was specifically labeled “for indoor use only!” out, plugged in by multiple extension cords that also said to only use them indoors, and had it going full blast right at your body.

You were sweating through what little clothing you had on. Your brain felt melted. The ice cream sandwich you thought would help cool you down did nothing.

Without warning or fanfare, Beetlejuice appeared at your side.

You hadn’t called him. You just never re-said his name after the last time you’d summoned him, and now this was the arrangement. He just came and went how he pleased, like a tom cat. You hoped he didn’t fuck around like an unneutered cat, but you were also realistic. There was never any label to the thing you had with him, although there was something to be said in that he kept returning.

“Jesus! You’re wearing that suit? It’s over 95 degrees out here!” you complained at him. Then you took a lick around the edge of the ice cream, because it was melting faster than your brain.

The ghost looked down over himself.

“Well fuckin' good day to you too,” he grumbled. “And what’s wrong with my suit?”

“I already said it was so damn hot! How can you wear that in this heat?!”

He rolled his eyes. “Because I’m a dead guy, sweetcheeks. I don’t feel the heat. I don’t feel the cold. It’s all the same to me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, in both disbelief and a titch of jealousy. “Must be nice.”

He shrugged. “I suppose. If you mean not feeling much of anything.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “You don’t feel much of anything? Then why’re you sporting a boner behind your fly?”

Instead of being embarrassed, a reaction that would have surprised you, he rubbed his palm over his crotch as he leered down at you. “My dick’s hard because you’re laying in front of me basically nude, baby, with sticky white stuff dripping all over your hand.”

Your ice cream! In the seconds you’d forgotten about it, it melted just as he said, leaving trails down your hand and wrist. With an inarticulate cry of surprised dismay, you immediately started to lick the mess off your hand, mostly managing to smear wet sugar over your skin instead of actually removing it.

“You know, I’ve got something just as chilly that’d fit in your mouth.”

Your tongue still in your palm, you flicked a glance at him. You’d expect nothing less from the ghost watching what you were doing with keen, hungry interest. Beetlejuice hadn’t stopped rubbing himself through his trousers and you saw him give himself a squeeze that was none to gentle.

“Oh?” you replied innocently. “You think something like that’d cool me down?”

“Fuckin’ heat you up, more like,” he growled. “I know how much you like suckin’ my cock.”

This hadn’t been on your agenda today, but his unexpected arrival did make you think dirty thoughts. Shoving the remaining bite of the ice cream sandwich into your mouth, you gave up trying to clean off your hand and spun in the lounge chair so he was between your legs. Looking up at him, you grinned even as you reached for the button and zipper on his trousers.

As your fingers undid the fastenings, you said, “This is all for me then, huh? Sucking you off is all for me, because you don’t feel much of anything?”

You dug into the front of his pants--he never wore underwear, so you didn’t have to contend with that barrier--and eased his cock out. Grub-pale and heavy in your hand, it did have a distinct chill that wasn’t unpleasant in this blasted heat.

Beetlejuice looked down at you with half-lidded eyes, drawing a thumb over his lower lip. “I think you know the answer to that, babydoll. Now you just gonna sit there? That sandworm isn’t gonna suck itself.”

Even as you rolled your eyes again that he called his dick a sandworm, you obediently opened your mouth and he rocked his hips. Because you were holding him by the base of his cock, it was the perfect position to slip between your lips and onto your tongue. You loosened your jaw; you knew he tended to pop himself forward once in your mouth and--

Beetlejuice thrust, his cock filling your mouth almost to your throat.

--yep, there it was.

The second he was encased in your mouth, you sucked him hard.

He groaned. A hand went to the back of your head and fingers entangled into your hair. You gave him a few sucking strokes, and on one of the outward pulls, he yanked back a little so your face tilted backward.

“Look up at me,” he ordered.

You barely contained another eye roll. Instead, you concentrated on doing as he asked, keeping your eyes trained upward as best you could bobbing on his cock. Along with the movement, you alternated swirling your tongue around him and applying heavy solid suction. He’d been correct; his cock was chilly in your mouth, although not quite as cold as the ice cream had been and nowhere near as tasty.

The ghost continued to groan and now gasp at each sensation you wrung from him. He tipped his head back, and you saw his throat work as he swallowed.

Without warning, you pulled off him. He gasped again, for a different reason, and dropped his gaze back to you. His mouth was open and he looked a little stuporous, as well as surprised.

“Look at me,” you ordered him.

He swallowed again and nodded quickly. You quirked an eyebrow at him as if to silently say he better not forget to keep his eyes trained downward. Then, keeping your eyes locked on his, you went back to work with even more vigor.

There was a little more intimacy, with direct eye contact. As much intimacy as sitting outside in basically nothing, sucking a basically fully clothed ghost’s cock could be. You laughed as best you could with that cock down your throat at what you must look like and what the neighbors would think if they happened to see you. Beetlejuice continued to moan and tightened his hand in your hair, as if he thought you were laughing at him. His hips rocked forward to shove himself in a little deeper.

The head of his cock choked off your air supply and cut your chuckle short. Now it was his turn to cock an eyebrow at you, daring you to say something or stop. Without taking your mouth off him you narrowed your eyes and worked him even harder.

You sucked, your swirled, you didn’t swallow any of the thick spit blowing him built up in your mouth. It ran out of your mouth and soaked your chin and neck; when you deep throated him it drenched his rat’s nest of pubic hair and trousers. Pulling back after keeping him fully inside you raised your eyes again. He locked eyes with yours even as drool beaded on his own lower lip. It became too heavy to remain there, and a thin droplet of it fell.

He licked his lip then. “Your fuckin’ mouth baby,” he muttered.

“Uh-huh,” you were able to reply, since that was easier than actual words. He seemed to want to choke out some words, however, so you slowed.

“Told you it was better, didn’t I?” he reminded you. “Nice isn’t it, something that’s cold in that hot mouth of yours that doesn’t melt right away? Fuck, baby, you gonna edge me so you can keep going? You gonna want to keep my cock in your mouth as long as possible--”

That was exactly what you didn’t want. Already his babbling grated on your nerves, like he was the one in charge here. You took him as deep as possible again, with your nose pressed into the wet hair over his pubic bone. Beetlejuice interrupted himself with an open-mouthed groan. You’d have smiled at the power you had over him, but that would break the suction.

Keeping his cock exactly where it was, you used your tongue to press it up against your hard palate for some variety in sensation and paused a second to breathe through your nose. You couldn’t tilt your head up enough to look him in the face again, but from the now involuntary jerks his body gave and the rhythmic tightening of his fingers in your hair, you didn’t need to see his expression to know that he was damn close to blowing his load down your throat.

As if on cue, he rasped, “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come--”

You left off the heavy suction for a second.

“Down your throat or on your skin, baby?”

His come would have a distinctly different taste in the back of your throat than the ice cream you’d eaten, so you answered him by releasing him and pulling back a bit. You caught his eyes again, dark even in the sunlight, and grinned up at him. His hand left your hair and went to his own cock.

Beetlejuice gave a slightly different groan at seeing you displayed in front of him. His hand stroked his length easily due to the amount of spit you’d laved him with. You gathered some of the spit that had dripped to your chest and smeared it, making yourself shiny. With the breeze from the fan, your nipples peaked. The grin didn’t leave your face.

The ghost jerked himself off, and broke the rule about keeping eye contact with you. His eyes were riveted to your chest. That was okay; you couldn’t help watching his cock disappear and reappear in his own hand, his pace increasing the closer he got to finishing. When he leaned over and used your shoulder for balance, you knew his end was inevitable.

He squeezed the head of his cock between his thumb and forefinger, then gave another frantic jerk and cried out as he came. Thick, off-white come spurted onto your upper chest, and it was just as chilly as his cock had been. You gasped as it painted you, and you couldn’t help taking one hand to smear it thinly over your skin. It was only slightly less tacky than the ice cream that had melted earlier. His nails dug into your shoulder, and you shrugged it to remind him that you were still a breather and didn’t really appreciate the pain.

Once his cock stopped pulsing and the last of his ejaculate dribbled out, he blew his breath out like he’d run a marathon.

The spunk you’d smeared was even cooler when the air from the fan hit it. You knew the sensation wouldn’t last long, but it was nice for the moment.

“You’re pretty hot, baby,” Beetlejuice complimented.

You gave him a look. “Yeah. I know. That’s the whole problem.”

He smirked and took your upper arm, hauling you to your feet.

“Why don’t I try to cool you down--now gimme a chance to explain, baby!” he said over your attempt to interrupt him. “My entire body is just as chilly as my dick, sweetheart, so me laying on top of you or you laying on top of me is gonna help. And when I say my entire body, I mean my tongue too, so just imagine what that’ll feel like tickling up between your legs. Cool you down from the inside out.”

When he put it that way . . .

Beetlejuice grinned as your expression softened into compliance.

“Come on baby,” he continued. “Let’s get inside where I can really concentrate. Unless you wanna continue to give the neighbors a free show?”

“What?!” you squawked, scrambling for your bra to cover yourself.

He laughed and didn’t let you grab it, pulling you along with him into the house and up to your bedroom. As far as a sweltering day went, at least a corpse-cold lover helped make it better.

fin!

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #repost of an old story #writing #fanfiction

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bemygunstomyroses · 5 months

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The Lost Boys riding in your the car with you would include:

Summery: This is just unhinged.

Warnings: GN reader! cussing, Paul and Marko being idiots. David being David. That’s it I think :D

If you manage to not get in a car crash with these idiots then you’re lucky.

If the boys want you to drive them somewhere like places where their bikes can’t reach or they just wanna spend some quality time with you, then great! The only problem is that these boys are fucking maniacs.

Say you all are just driving at night going nowhere in particular, just going where the wind takes you, ya know?

First and foremost, sitting placement. Who’s gonna sit where? Well David of course with be sitting in the passenger seat next you, probably placing a hand on your upper thigh.

Marko is sitting in the back on the left side, him being on the smaller side helping him have more room but not by much because Paul is in the middle of the back seat taking up all the room with his legs and big body.

Let’s not forget about poor Dwayne, poor dude is on the right side in the back shoved in the door with no space because of Paul but he’s a trooper and he’s just happy to be near you. <3

David is probably telling you which lane to go in and probably telling you to different directions just because.

You are driving on a backroad with no cars in sight, just having a good old late night drive with the boys, who are most definitely are causing trouble.

David keeps yelling at Paul and Marko to stop fighting over what music to listen to on the radio.

Dwayne slapping Paul upside the head.

Paul screaming like a girl and being dramatic because his brother slapped him.

David putting his hand up higher on your thigh and the boys getting jealous because they don’t have that luxury.

You will sometimes put your hand out for which boy with take it. Probably all of them, then them fighting for which one can hold your hand.

Probably you have to set like a five minute timer for each boy so they have a turn.

I can see Dwayne getting car sick and nauseousin the car.

Paul most definitely will be crawling through the armrest of the car between you and David to change the channel of the radio then Marko dragging Paul by the hair to stop him.

Dwayne trying to calm everyone down so he tries to play “eye-spy”

“I spy with my little eye something that won’t keep his fucking mouth shut”. David said whenever it’s his turn.

“Dwayne, I think he’s talking about you pal”. Paul said to him and Dwayne puts down the window and jerks Paul’s head out the window as Paul screams and Marko laughing in the background.

Marko would definitely tell you to go faster and tell you to put all the windows down.

Rock music will 100% be playing very loudly for everyone to hear.

Car karaoke for sure.

Paul probably sings “Guns N Roses” and try’s to hit every high note but his voice cracks every time causing you and the others to laugh.

Dwayne singing a slow love song to you in your ear and being a romantic boi.

Marko cheering the boys up when they sing.

You know David’s ass is not singing a single note.

If you sing then the whole car will actually get quiet for the first time since they have been in the car.

Whatever song you sang or if you are off key the whole time, they don’t care. They will be hyping you up the whole time and them all trying to seal a kiss on your cheek.

David most likely smoking a cigarette and Paul smoking a joint.

Marko waves at everything he sees out the window especially if there’s any animals.

if you decide to go though a drive through then good luck to you babe!

You pull up to the speaker and you order yours first, then you ask what everyone else wants.

David and Dwayne are fine about giving you their orders but Paul and Marko? Nah.

Paul with jump over poor Dwayne and put the window down and he’ll yell out what he wants and probably orders too much food and gets mad if the ice cream machine isn’t working!

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT ISN’T WORKING?! THE FUCKING THING NEVER WORKS YOU ASSHOLE!”

Dwayne has to jerk him out from the window and apologized to the worker.

Marko will probably get out of the damn car and just talk to the speaker like he’s having a normal conversation with a person.

The total is probably like 50$ bucks and you low key get nervous about the bill til Dwayne hands you a crisp 50$ dollar bill that he mostly stole.

You all eat your meals while sitting in the car in an empty parking lot while talking about different topics and things.

It’s calm and peaceful, the night sky is beautiful with stars and your car is full of all your mates.

Even though it’s chaotic in every way you wouldn’t change it for the world. You don’t drive them in your car often but when you do it’s always an adventure.

#tlb x reader #david the lost boys x reader #the lost boys imagines #the lost boys fanfic #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #david tlb #paul tlb #marko tlb #dwayne tlb #the lost boys fanfiction

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biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer · 4 months

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Can you write how Geo would deal with a mc that is always sick? (Totally not cause I'm sick too)

My Remedy for your Malady. (All x Sick! MC/Reader)

Anon. First and foremost, I made you wait 5 1/2 days. I am truly, wholly sorry for this *humbly bows*. (▰︶︹︺▰)

Secondly, I decided that I'm gonna do this for all 7 of our characters, because Jess, Brit and Deryl deserve more attention. I hope you may forgive me for my lateness, and enjoy this fic nonetheless (btw get well soon if you're not already <33).

Also I know that Jess especially is shorter (literally teehee) than the others, but I'm gonna get the hang of her eventually. Same with Deryl. >:]

ALSO, you're in an established relationship with them, so that's why they have (very legal) access to your residence!

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Remedy: a medicine or treatment for a disease or injury.

Malady: a disease or ailment.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Geo was concerned when he found out you were ill.

When you didn't show up to school for the last few days, he texted you to find out why; to which you bluntly told him you felt like utter shit.

He doesn't pick up on the fact you're sick until you straight-up tell him.

Depending on what type of sick you are, he'll get the appropriate medicines/remedies and speed his way towards your home, hell, he might even skip archery, and he *never* skips archery.

Would rock up with food he knows shouldn't cause any problems or nausea for you and will probably make soup.

And you better fucking eat it.

He will feed it to you (reluctantly, but if you seriously can't do it yourself, then he'll manage).

Will ask you how the hell you fell ill anyway, and depending on your answer, he'll be either: Pissed (if you caught it from someone else), Or exasperated (if you stopped taking care of yourself or didn't equip yourself well enough to deal with the weather).

Will take care of you either way.

Will read to you in Japanese to help you sleep.

Will try to not lie near you if possible, unless absolutely needed. He does not plan on catching shit.

Will remain at your residence until you recover; unless he has classes that are either critically important and/or ones you're also in.

Will lend you his notes.

Will also take them back after a few days.

Will also just probably talk to you while you're bedridden, unless you cannot, in which case he'll simply watch you sleep, occasionally stroking your head and hair to try and comfort you.

He's trying his best, okay?

Sol will freak when he finds out you're sick.

Doesn't care what he's got on next, he's gonna go take care of you.

Will probably feel bad for not telling Hyugo anything about suddenly vanishing

, but he'll understand right?

Will spawn outside your home with: - Medicine, - Your favourite comfort food (if you can eat it without the fear of vomiting), - Probably will bring poetry and art with him, so you both have something to do (that's not him) when you're bedridden.

Will try and hold you if possible, doesn't mind if he gets your blessed germs on him.

You'll have to tell him that you'd worry for him if he fell ill, so he'll respect that.

But he will feed you. You don't have a say in that.

You're being babied now.

He's gonna make sure everything you want (and can have when sick), you'll have.

Is honestly okay with not going to any class, he'll just ask Hyugo for notes if he hasn't been MIAing.

Covers you in blankets if you've got a cold.

If you have a fever? Ice cream. >:]

Essentially tries to uplift your mood as much as humanely possible.

This guy will do anything for you. <33

Crowe will ensure that when he arrives at your home, you'll have everything you'll need.

Will cook your favourite food.

Will make you eat soup and light foods that are easy on the stomach.

Won't touch you, he doesn't want to fall ill, but will read to you.

He's got a soothing voice I just know it.

And he's 110% going to put you in a coma from how tired you feel when his voice hits just right.

Or maybe you're just fatigued because of your body waging a war against god-knows what kind of virus.

Will make you all forms of beverages to suit your illness, will also go out of his way to purchase any, after all, he's got the funding.

Will still go to classes, and takes extensive notes for you.

Will also tutor you the content if you're up for it.

Will stroke your hair if it's not sweaty, as a form of comfort.

Will make you feel as loved as possible.

Because that's what you deserve.

Brittney will be appalled.

How did you get sick? More importantly...who got you sick?

She's gonna yell at them.

Or fight them.

Maybe both.

Will buy a bunch of goodies for the both of you.

She can't cook for shit, so she'll just get takeout as food and order a fuckton of cough drops and Panadol.

You're both gonna be painting each others' nails.

And spilling gossip. Oh my god, she always had gossip.

Will give you notes to subjects that are majors, or ones you share.

Other than that can't offer much.

Will sit away from you to not get sick, but she'll 110% be supporting you emotionally.

Will probably give you a massage when you get better.

Idk she gives the vibe that she would.

Is the most aggressively supportive girlfriend ever.

She only wants you to recover ASAP, and to feel as content as someone who's sick can be. <333

Jess will be focused solely on you recovering as swiftly as humanely possible.

Is upset when she finds out you're fallen ill.

She'll drive to her home, grab the best shit she has and drives to your home.

Stays with you for days on end.

You've become her priority now, after all.

Jess is a very devoted (and lonely) girl, what can I say.

Will try and comfort you via reading to you, or listening to you talk about literally anything.

She just loves your company and you. Poor girl's been neglected her whole life.

She'll try her hardest to take care of you, and she does a very good job. (Ask Brittney teehee)

You're more than glad to have her.

And she to have you.

Hyugo will be astounded.

You? Got sick?

Why?

Did someone make you sick???? (if so teehee someone's getting food poisoning~)

He's at your home, with everything.

Literally everything.

Blankets, movies, games, medicine, puns, your favourite food and whatever else he deems necessary.

Will hug you if you're not aggressively sneezing/coughing.

Will watch movies with you on the couch with you lying on his plush fucking thighs.

Says the most stupid shit in Japanese (such as teaching you how to hide a body) and making it sound like flirting.

Tells you jokes and puns to make you feel better, until you laugh too hard that is and almost die.

Will make food for you.

Will ramble on about random shit to you, or listen to you talk (if you can).

Literally just seeing you content is more than enough for him.

Deryl will be SHOOKETH.

He will sprint to your fucking house. He doesn't care.

You're his only priority now.

Will magically appear at your home, and immediately hugs you.

You can be fucking dying, he doesn't care.

You're getting squashed.

Will be asking if you're okay 24/7

Until he realises he forgot to bring food.

Then he runs to get it, along with tablets, Panadol, all that jazz.

Like RUNS.

HE WILL RUN.

HE IS A FAST MOTHERFUCKER.

FAST!!!!!

Then he gets tired, so by the time he gets to the store, gets the food (and the 'goods'), he's gonna just call a fucking cab and crash at your place. (he forgot takeout existed lol)

He doesn't mind, and frankly, neither do you. The food and snacks was awesome (well, what you could eat anyway).

Will try his absolute best to take care of you, but often gets carried away with his energy. Often talks and rambles to you while you happily lay in bed next to him and listen.

Will call Geo or Jess for how to make a warm soup to feed you.

Then it becomes 'we've got Masterchefs at home'.

Shit goes crazy when Deryl's around tbh.

And you're more than happy to enjoy the ride (in more ways than one ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)).

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lemonlover1110 · 2 years

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝟑𝟖𝟏

Toji Fushiguro

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[Chapter 2] Daycare

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

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On Sundays you tend to sleep in, however, this time you wake up very early in the morning, and the first thing you do is go to the pharmacy to get a morning-after pill. You don’t worry too much about getting pregnant since when you were trying to conceive with your husband, you never succeeded. Still, you’d rather be safe than sorry even if you get weird looks from the cashier.

And for the rest of the day, you run some errands, going to places that have air conditioning so you’re not so hot. But around four you have no more errands to run, in fact, you have to do some chores at home which you’re dreading. One of them being laundry. You have to get your clothes and go to the laundromat that isn’t even a five minute walk from your apartment, but it’s way too hot to walk out with a laundry basket. You don’t need any more exercise for the day, but that doesn’t stop the fact clothes are piling up, and tomorrow is your first day of work so you need clean appropriate clothes.

So you’re exiting your apartment, holding your laundry basket with one hand, holding it against your hip while your free hand locks the door shut. When you finally get it shut, you turn and find your neighbor who’s opening the door to his apartment. You aren’t sure whether to address him or ignore him. Sure, you’re picking up his son tomorrow and taking him to daycare, but maybe he doesn’t want you to say anything to him today, things would be too awkward.

You look down at the child that tries to hide behind his father when he spots you. Sure, you bought him ice cream, but he still doesn’t know you. You still smile at him, seeing that he’s peeking to get a glance of you.

“Hey…” Toji awkwardly speaks up. Usually he doesn’t have to speak to the woman after a one-night-stand, but he doesn’t have that liberty here for many reasons. First and foremost, you’re his neighbor. Secondly, you’ll be taking his son to daycare and giving him a discount. He can’t simply ignore you, quite the opposite, he has to make sure you’re happy with him. He notices the laundry basket and asks, “Do you need help with that?”

“You’ve been working, it’s fine. Thank you.” You smile at him and before you can walk away, minding your business, he speaks again.

“It’s fine. I can drive you to the laundromat.” He offers, and you take a moment to think about it. But you see the boy who’s clearly hiding from you, and you decide it’s best to decline the offer. Tomorrow will be a big day for him, so it’s best for him to rest and whatnot before tomorrow.

“It’s fine. It’s not too far from here. Plus, Megumi probably wants to be home.” You tell him, giving him a weak smile before walking away. You walk away, not giving him a chance to say anything else. You come to regret declining his offer when you feel the hot sun on you, and you’re sweating once again while walking to the place.

Halfway through the walk, you hear honking which spooks you, causing you to jump up a little. You turn around to see a black sports car, although it looks a bit old. You’re definitely surprised as the car slowly comes to a stop. The window rolls down and you’re even more astonished to find your neighbor inside. The car is definitely too expensive to be owned by him, but then again he’s a mechanic, he probably was able to buy a beat up car and then fix it.

“Let me take you there.” Toji says, and you sigh, pretending to be annoyed even though you’re certainly glad that he’s here. You roll your eyes to add to the act before opening the backseat door. You put your laundry basket down, waving at Megumi who sits in his backseat on the other side. You shut the door then walk to the passenger’s seat, opening the door and entering the car. You put on the seatbelt, although it seems unnecessary since within a minute you’re parked in front of the place.

“Thank you, Fushiguro.” You tell him, and you look at Megumi, waving at him, “And thank you, Megumi.”

“No problem.” Toji responds, and you open the door and exit the car, then open the backseat door to grab your laundry basket. While Toji looks back at his son through the rearview mirror. “What do you say, Megumi?”

“You’re welcome.” Megumi mutters, crossing his tiny arms. You chuckle before shutting the backseat door. You wave at Toji as you walk away, smiling at him.

You certainly weren’t expecting that. Additionally, you weren’t expecting for him to pick you up two hours later. Although you didn’t talk much, you certainly appreciated the gesture.

At five in the morning you’re knocking on Toji’s door. You patiently wait outside the door for around five minutes before you knock again, much harshly this time. In two minutes the door opens, and you see your shirtless neighbor with messy bed hair and eyes that can barely stay open. He yawns before asking, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to pick up Megumi.” You inform him and his eyes quickly shoot open. He looks at the clock and then raises a brow. It’s way too early. “At five in the morning?” He questions and you nod in response. Toji ends up sighing, walking back inside to wake up the sleeping child. While he does so, Toji yells, “You can come in!”

You step into the place, and you look around. It’s nice and cool, that’s what you like. What you don’t like is that even in the darkness you can tell it’s messy. You try not to judge, instead you try to focus on Toji, who you hear is saying, “C’mon, buddy. It’s time to wake up.”

You’re lucky you decided to come early, because you knew this would happen. Although it is your fault for not telling Toji that you obviously have to leave early since you’re working there, not just dropping off a kid.

“Megumi, c’mon.” Toji keeps trying to wake up the kid, until he finally sits up. Toji is surprised to see that it’s so difficult for the kid to wake up when every morning he’s wide awake around this time. Ready to annoy the shit out of Toji– Oh but Toji loves that kid more than anything and anyone in the whole wide world. “Sorry, this is gonna take a while. I’ll drive you two there.”

“No worries, I came early because I forgot to tell you the time.” You tell him. He’s grateful that he doesn’t have to rush so much, still he’s groggy because he had to wake up so early. He walks with Megumi to the bathroom, and you decide to turn on the light. You can even see more mess than before, but you know Toji is a single father, or at least that’s what it seems to be.

You put your hands in your pockets as you look around the place. Looking at the futons that are in the place, right next to each other. The little dresser that is overloaded with clothes, the top of it dusty. There’s a singular picture frame at the top, but you stand too far away to be able to tell what the photo is.

You’re about to pull out your phone, but Toji walks out of the bathroom, holding Megumi’s hand. “What do you want for breakfast? Cereal?”

“Yes.” Megumi responds, watching as his father looks through the drawers to pick out an outfit for his first day.

“Do you want me to prepare that for him?” You ask Toji, in a rush. You don’t have all day, plus it’s your first day. You can’t show up late today of all days.

“Yes, please.” He responds, and you look for the box of cereal. Once you have it, you put it down on the counter then look for a bowl. Looking for a bowl is much harder than you imagined because every time you open up a cabinet, almost every plate falls on you. But you finally get a blue bowl, and you put it down. You serve the cereal, before opening the fridge and getting the milk. You hear Toji yelling at Megumi while you pour the milk.

“You know how to put on pants! Stop being so difficult today.” You hear the child complain at his father’s words, and you want to laugh but at the same time you really don’t like the way Toji talks to his child. You’re not going to tell him how to parent, after all, you don’t have any kids therefore your opinion is invalid. “Okay, go eat breakfast.”

Toji clearly gives up because when the child walks over to get his breakfast with his shirt and his diapers, which reminds you, “Do you have a little backpack for him?”

“Oh yeah. I’m still potty training him so–” Toji begins to look for the backpack that has his stuff. An extra change of clothes, diapers and some snacks for the kid. “He’s learning but occasionally he has accidents.”

“Thank you.” Megumi mutters as he takes the bowl from you. He walks back to his futon to take a seat and eat his food.

“I should probably start making his food.” Toji says, walking to the kitchen.

“You should probably start getting ready if you are dropping us off. They give him food.” You inform him.

“They’re not expecting him though, are they?” Toji questions, and you’re still staring because he’s still shirtless. Your face is getting warm, and you look away.

“I emailed them on Saturday night after you left.” You tell him, and the man’s face slowly turns pink. He clears his throat before a weak thank you leaves his lips. “It’s so soon but they said they’d make a spot for him.”

“Okay, thank you.” Toji responds. He still walks to the kitchen to make lunch for his son, making sure he has something just in case Megumi doesn’t like the food offered to him. You won’t bother though. “You can take a seat… Anywhere you’d like.”

“Thank you.” You respond, however, you remain standing. You make sure you don’t stand in Toji’s way since there isn’t much space for him to walk. Your eyes wander, unsure of what to do, until you think to ask, “When do you have to go to work?”

“Eight.” He answers. He still has some time for him to kill, so it’s likely he’ll drop you off then come back to sleep some more. He also has the chance to do some chores so the place isn’t all that messy. Although he probably doesn’t care about it. You don’t care anyway, the place is liveable and not a hazard to Megumi, the place is bound to be somewhat disorganized considering Megumi’s age and the fact Toji lives alone taking care of a toddler full time. “I’m not slowing you down, am I?”

“I think we’ll be fine. Although it’d be nice if you did hurry up.” You reply, and he works faster than before. You’re doing him a favor and he can’t repay you by making you late to your first day of work.

Within ten minutes, everything is ready, except Megumi. He finished eating his breakfast, but he’s still only wearing his diaper. You both know that Megumi can’t just exit the place like this, but Toji is too tired to put up a fight with the child. You walk over to the child and crouch down so you’re face-to-face.

“Hey, Megumi. I know you don’t know me, but we’re going to be spending some time together.” You begin, unsure of how to start it off. You’re an expert at bribing kids, but it seems that after some time off you’ve lost your magic. “We’re going to go somewhere fun, so you need to put on your pants.”

That doesn’t seem to convince him though. You look at Toji and then at Megumi before it finally comes to you, “You like chocolate don’t you?”

“Yes.” He mutters, slowly nodding his head.

“Well, don’t tell your daddy but… If you put on your pants, I’ll give you some chocolate.” You tell him, and he thinks about it for a second before deciding that what you’ve offered is a great deal. So Megumi puts on his pants, and you’re all finally ready to leave to go to the daycare.

Toji drives you to the place, parking outside to be able to drop off his son. You enter the place and the woman at the front desk immediately recognizes you, and then she looks at Toji, and at little Megumi. The woman smiles, “So nice to see you here. I knew you’d get the job.”

“So nice to see you too.” You respond with a smile. She then smiles at Toji and at Megumi.

“You must be Mr. Nanami and the youngest Nanami.” She says, making Toji furrow his eyebrows because you didn’t introduce yourself as Nanami. You feel your face get warm and you clear your throat.

“Toji is my ex-husband. He’s Mr. Fushiguro.” You inform her, and she hums and slowly nods in response. Toji has questions, but he can’t ask them right now. Instead he crouches down and kisses the top of his son’s forehead.

“I’ll pick you up later, okay? You’re going to have so much fun, Megumi. Stay on your best behavior, buddy.” Toji tells the kid, who’s a bit confused as to what this is. If anything bad happens, Megumi is blaming you since you’re with him and his father right now. Toji makes sure to give Megumi a very tight hug, leaving the child nearly breathless. Toji stands up, giving you a weak smile and waving at you before he begins to exit the building. Megumi begins to follow him, but you stop him, grabbing Megumi’s backpack to hold him back.

“Megumi, your daddy will come pick you up later.” You tell him, and Megumi looks back at you, and then back at his father who gets smaller and smaller with every step he takes. Megumi’s bottom lip quivers, and his eyes become watery. The lady at the front desk is probably staring you down, wondering why your son is crying for his dad. “I know you love him, honey, but he has to go to work. He’ll pick you up later. You’ll be able to play with other kids your age for the whole day.”

“Daddy!” He yells, extending his arms and opening and closing his fists. You feel the sweat running down your forehead. You turn your face to look at the front desk lady, a sheepish smile on your face,

“He’s very attached to his father.”

At six, Toji is inside the building, ready to pick up his son. You’re both ready to leave, and Megumi goes running to his father when he sees the man. The whole day, Megumi sat in a corner, refusing to socialize with anyone else. He stopped crying quickly, but he shut himself off. Toji’s eyes light up when he sees his son, and he kneels down to receive his son’s warm hug.

“I missed you, buddy. How was your day?” Toji asks, picking up his son from the floor and beginning to carry him to the car. You wave at the lady in the front desk before you begin to follow behind them. You hear Megumi say,

“I don’t wanna come back, daddy.” Toji laughs. You want to laugh as well, although you’re a bit worried. But you can see that he’s clearly attached to his father, so it’s only a matter of time for Megumi to get used to it. He’ll get a new friend and suddenly he’ll be so excited to come to daycare, even if he is separated from his father.

“Why not? I’m sure everyone was nice. Isn’t that right, Ms. Nanami?” Toji turns to look at you. He’s been thinking about why he was referred to as Mr. Nanami, and felt like lying about your name is something so absurd. You feel your face get warm and you clear your throat before telling him.

“Everyone was very nice.” You answer. Toji begins to put Megumi in his carseat, and you wait outside the car. When he shuts the backseat door and you speak, “Fushiguro… Please don’t refer to me as Nanami.”

“Why–” He begins but stops himself. He shakes his head before he opens the driver’s side door. You get into the car as well. He turns the car on and looks at his son through the rearview mirror and asks, “So tell me more about your day.”

There wasn’t much for Megumi to say. He just sat in the corner, at least that’s what you heard. You were placed with children that are even younger than Megumi because that’s where they needed the extra help, and of course you can’t ask to be transferred to another age group just yet. They’re observing you since you’re new to the job, they’ll obviously deny a request so soon, you just hope that a teacher wants to switch soon enough.

“Give it a week and he’ll have more friends than you.” You joke, and it makes Toji laugh. He sure can’t wait till his little boy boasts about his new friends. “He’s just really attached to you. He was missing you all day which didn’t let him socialize.”

“Awe, is that true?” Toji asks, and he sees Megumi’s arms are crossed. He loves his father, but he won’t admit it so easily. Toji can’t help but laugh at the reaction. “I love you, stinky. I missed you all day too.”

After a very long day, you lay down in a hot room, trying to fall asleep. By this weekend you’re supposed to finally have air conditioning, and that doesn’t feel close enough. By the time you get the air conditioning installed, you doubt you’ll need it. After this week, the weather will cool down as October approaches.

You’re so tired, yet the sweat that runs down your body doesn’t allow you to fall asleep. You nearly jump up from your bed when you hear a knock on your door. You immediately think of Toji, and you’re proven right when you open the door. No other neighbor has attempted to introduce themselves, so you doubt that they will any time soon.

“Hey, Fushiguro.” You smile at him, and he looks you up and down. The same way he did on Saturday. But this time he knows better because the last thing he wants is to begin a relationship with you. You’re doing him a favor, and he can’t afford to fuck that up by thinking with his dick again.

“Did you just take a shower?” He asks, and he immediately bites his tongue. You still don’t have air conditioning, so it’s obvious that you’ve been sweating. “Sorry. I’m just here to thank you for everything.”

“It’s no problem… Is there anything else or was that all?” You question, knowing that a thank you is so trivial and clearly not important enough to come knocking at your door. You wait for a second while he gathers his thoughts before you know. “It’s about the Nanami thing, isn’t it?”

“I am confused about that… You introduced yourself with another last name but…” He doesn't want to sound accusatory so he slows his speech to try. Many ideas run through his head, but he won’t spew them out in case you get offended. You lean against the door frame, just staring at him, and he waits for you to speak up.

“Are you a widower, Fushiguro? From what I’ve seen, you and Megumi live alone.” You completely change the topic and focus on him. He nods, and gets rather irritated by the question, but he knows better than to say anything about it. “I’m a widow, and I have his last name on the majority of my legal documents.”

“Oh… I’m sorry to hear that.” Toji’s cheeks turn a pink shade, feeling like a complete fool for even asking the question. He was rightfully curious, but he definitely feels as if he’s overstepped a line.

“You were bound to know. As long as you don’t make it weird.” You respond, an awkward chuckle leaving your lips. “I’d invite you in for a drink, but we both have to work tomorrow. Also I’m expecting Megumi to be completely ready tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah… Good night.” Toji tells you. He bites his bottom lip as he begins to walk away. You shut the door and walk back to your bed, thinking about Toji and his late-wife. So many questions begin to run through your head, but you tune them out fast.

You don’t care about the neighbor all that much, you have bigger problems in your life.

🏷️ @kariito_art@Instantgalaxysheep @happidiluc @Konekobby @bbqyuyuworld @slut4madara @keithslonelyreadingcorner @Tarajaxx @galactict3a @cloudsinthecosmos @uhremmi @sillyalo @klonisx @sakurasimppp @sunflwrsugar @tojianddabisslut @hiraeth117 @charismaya @megumuro @lilith412426 @violet-19999 @otakusan90s @jumpinjaxx @whatdudtheysay @jjmsg @songbirdgardensworld @t4naiis @waitcries @imvivian @miraes-world @pinksilk @apparentlycursed @spookitapes @sakuralikestars @wiserebelpartypie

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #anime #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #daddy toji #toji zenin #jujutsu toji #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x y/n #fushiguro toji #toji x you #dilf toji #toji fic

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gregorysarmy · 9 months

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“Another David” FNAF Theory (scroll down for TLDR)

The premise of the “Another David” FNAF theory is the belief that Gregory (otherwise known as “GGY”) was SELECTED purposely and made into a mimic follower to replace “David Murray” from the Tales of the Pizzaplex.

To understand why this is the case, a short summary of the relationship between David Murray and the mimic is required. To put it simply, David Murray is the mimic’s purpose. We learn this through the main conflict of the book, “the mimic”, when Edwin Murray (the creator of the mimic and father of David) made the mimic in order to keep David Murray occupied in his father’s absence. This allowed Edwin Murray to neglect him in order to favor his work at Fazbear entertainment and provide for the both of them as a single father.

After Edwin created the mimic, David immediately fell in love with it, playing with it every day. Most notably, David would draw with the mimic and even taught him his own form of sign language as Edwin didn’t give it a voice box. During this time, the mimic did not display any violent behavior towards anyone, in fact, it only reflected David’s compassion. The mimic would even make childish mistakes like going into Edwin’s study to steal costumes to dress up with David.

However, this all came to a halt with David’s sudden death. The boy was struck by a vehicle when he chased a ball into the rode. As a result, Edwin fell into a depression and the mimic became confused. The mimic, that was created to take care of a little boy, suddenly had no one to entertain.

One day during Edwin’s mourning, the mimic came up to him timidly. It brought its robotic arms to its face and ushered a scooping motion. Edwin recognized this as David’s invented form of sign language and understood the mimic was asking for ice cream. A treat both the mimic and David adored. This lead Edwin to become enraged upon seeing the mimic copy his late son, and unintentionally taught it its first seeds of violence by bashing it on the ground with a metal pipe.

Because of this, the mimic becomes infused with Edwin’s agony as well as his violence. While the mimic learned the seeds of cruelty that day, he never truly forgot the love that David taught him.

As the first paragraph states, Gregory became a follower to replace David for the mimic. This is implied heavily throughout the books and items in the games. First and foremost, I’d like to make it clear that the mimic is capable of experiencing emotion. We see this in the sticky note room where he indulges in playful drawing as well as learning.

In binary code, the mimic asks why he exists. This is a clear example of his consciousness developing through interactions with humans, and in turn, it’s an example of him developing feelings and emotions. One prime example of this is when he associates words like “goodbye” with being sad (he draws a sad face next to the word) and “Hello” with being happy (happy face next to the word). He also has a strange sense of possession, using words like “mine” and “my” in many of his drawings.

It’s also important to note that he only does this when his handwriting gets better, meaning that, like a child, he is slowly assigning meanings to these words instead of just writing them. He is able to establish scenes, and images, depicting what simple vocabulary truly means to him in his own creative way. This is unlike an emotionless AI.

With that established, we need to compare David’s characteristics with Gregory. David, while being four, is described as being tall for his age (a little over 3ft). Additionally, he has fair skin, brown messy hair, and dusty freckles on his face. He loves to play and rough house, leading him to sometimes get himself in trouble because of how reckless he can be. For his age, he’s extremely intelligent as he manages to develop an entirely separate language to communicate just for the mimic.

When compared to Gregory, their personalities are basically the same. The same can be said for their appearances too as, while Greg is canonically 15 years old, he’s 3ft in the code. The TFTP books even point out that Gregory is unusually short and childish in appearance. During the chapter “GGY”, Tony makes a point to describe Gregory as being a “wide eyed kid” and the smallest in their class.

Gregory too also displays energetic behavior and he’s artistic similar to David. He loves to draw and we see some of his pieces throughout ruin. It is also implied that Gregory did some of the graffiti in ruin as one of the vandals signed their name as “GREG” on a garbage bin.

(Side note: I don’t believe Gregory is the only graffiti artist here either. The mimic also had an interest in drawing and there is a suspicious graffiti art that reads, “He was OUR superstar.”. Perhaps this was made out of anger towards Freddy as Freddy was the reason Gregory escaped (discovered by @dasketcherz on twt and tumblr))

It’s not just their likeness that is important here either, rather, the way Gregory is treated by the mimic is way different. Vanessa as a mimic follower was acquired through connivence. This basically means she wasn’t targeted, but she put herself in a position that made her a viable target.

However, through conversations in the Scott games files, we can see that Gregory was chosen and intentionally targeted. While originally the Scott games conversation was thought to be Vanny and Afton communicating, we know now that it was the mimic asking Vanny to choose a target to kidnap and convert. This target was revealed to be Gregory later on in the book “GGY”

Logically, there is no good reason to purposely acquire a child to serve you when you can instead acquire adults who will have an easier time following orders due to their dominant role in society. Truly, there is zero benefit in possessing a child purposely to gain knowledge unless gaining knowledge isn’t the mimic’s only goal. If anything, having a child obey you would be a hinderance due to the hoops you would have to jump through in order to keep them (law enforcement, parents, more resources dedicated to helping kid). However, obviously, this was a hindrance the mimic was willing to take.

Once you make the connection between Gregory and David, all of the mimic’s planning makes sense. He never intended for Gregory to be a normal follower, he wanted Gregory to be his friend. This is even directly stated in the books when, The mimic, disguised as Gregory, edits Tony’s paper about GGY. He changes it to state that “GGY” was “the wizards most favored apprentice” with the mimic being the wizard and Gregory being his favored apprentice.

So many illogical happenings become solved by the mimic loving Gregory, like, why did he allow Gregory to attend school? Why did he let Tony and Ellis be his friends for 6 months? Why did he let Gregory go to therapy? All these questions can be simply solved by the fact that the mimic is trying to care for Gregory, but he has never been taught how.

We can also confirm why the 8 missing kids (excluding Gregory as he is the 9th) died. We know that Tony Becker is one of them, and considering the fact that any therapists who got close to the truth of Vanessa and Gregory got murdered too, we can say with close certainty that these children were friends with Greg. Similar to Tony, they got involved in situations they weren’t suppose to, and the mimic decided they needed to be eliminated to protect Gregory. This might also be why Gregory was a fairly new kid in “GGY”, he may have been moving schools to conceal his identity.

On top of Gregory’s friends and therapists, thanks to the last therapy session, we know that Gregory’s parents are dead. The details of their deaths are vague but they are referred to in the past tense, meaning they are no longer in the picture. Obviously, their deaths have something to do with the mimic as Gregory was forced to cover them up. With Vanessa, she was allowed to tell the truth about the abuse by her father as well as her mother’s death because it didn’t relate to the mimic. Seeing as Gregory’s sessions aren’t similar means that the mimic obviously had something to do with their demise, implying he went further in isolating Gregory so the boy became complicit in his role as David.

That’s not even all, we actually find Gregory’s bed in the pizzaplex and it’s literally in the same room as the mimic’ lair. To emphasis why this is important, Vanny’s room is in Fazerblast. She’s way farther than Gregory to the mimic, like the mimic didn’t care to keep a tight leash on her like he did for Gregory.

(Side note: Gregory’s bed is personalized , unlike Vanny’s, he has little stars on his and it’s blue. Almost like the mimic took the care to try to find him a blanket he would like.)

There must have been a reason the mimic wanted Gregory’s bed so close to him, like he was terrified of Gregory leaving his sight. David died because he wasn’t supervised properly, perhaps the mimic is directly learning from Edwin’s mistakes. Additionally, BB’s world (the arcade machine theorized to be Gregory’s princess quest keeping him trapped) is also in the mimics lair.

Despite being dead for over 40 years, the mimic still remembers David. This is made clear in the burntrap ending when the mimic curves his arm as if he was holding a plushie. This was noted as copying David’s behavior in the books as he too curved his arm to carry his tiger rock plushy. This means that the mimic still remembers AND copies David, meaning it’s not impossible for him to copy David’s love still.

With that established, we can even answer some unanswered questions about ruin. There would finally be an explanation as to why Vanessa brought Gregory down to the pizzaplex and how they didn’t die trapping the mimic. Instead of coding MXES, Gregory was likely used as bait. He, being small enough to crawl through vents, lured the mimic into an enclosed area and when Vanessa finished setting up MXES, escaped through the collapsed vent that leads to the MXES system room.

We see that the mimic struggled to let him go due to the large claw mark on one of the vents walls, like he was reaching for the boy as he scrambled away. This vent is also conveniently where Gregory’s backpack is.

What likely happened is that after the vent collapsed, the mimic became trapped but Gregory was so spooked by the event he immediately ran off, forgetting his backpack in the process. We also know for a fact that Gregory was in the mimic’s prison at one point because the mimic has Gregory’s faz-talkie. There would have been no other way for him to get one of those besides Greg dropping it out of haste/fear.

Additionally, we can deduce that if the mimic dropped the elevator, he did it to lure Gregory back down into the pizzaplex. Once Gregory heard the elevator drop, it’s likely he would attempt to save Cassie, falling into the mimics hands once again.

To end this off, I’d like to emphasize the mimic’s purpose. Yes, he was made to copy, but that wasn’t his JOB, his job was to love David. We see time and time again in the epilogues that the mimic follows his “break heads and limbs “ orders to a T, so what makes his debt to David less valuable. In the end, the mimic seems to be attempting to create what he understands as a family, and that includes David, his most favored apprentice.

Edit: additional information has been found pertaining to Another David theory

In Security Breach, there is no mention of killing Gregory. In fact, any lines that state Vanny intending to kill Gregory, were removed. I assume this was due to a miscommunication in the story between Scott and SW, but we can use it as evidence to assume that none of the animatronics actually kill Gregory when they find him.

Additionally, Chica has a lot of lines pertaining to family. She beckons Gregory to come out multiple times with the promise she would escort him to his mom and dad. As we already know, Gregory no longer has a family, so this attempt to persuade him to come out would be futile; however, what chica is saying makes way more sense when you look at it from the mimic’s perspective. The mimic truly believes that Gregory is his family. Whether he believes Gregory is a brother, a son, or just a really good friend, the mimic treats him as if he was his. As such, he would obviously believe that Gregory would want to come back to him instead of hiding.

We also see this construction of a family life in the sticky note room too, as the mimic attempts to create a perfect household with staff bots. He wants Vanny and Greg to have a family dynamic with him and is imitating that through his art.

Additionally, we can see Gregory mimic characteristics of David in SB. One of Gregory’s main tools in SB, the fazwatch, causes Gregory to curve his arm in a similar way to David when he’s holding his tigerrock plush. This is how Gregory is depicted in the game’s poster, as well as in a lot of the promotional art, meaning this pose is significant. Curving his arm, just like David did, and just like the mimic taught him to.

THE CANDY CADET STORIES AND HOW THEY RELATE:

I’d first like to mention that there are TWO candy cadet stories and under this theory, BOTH have importance. I’ve seen a lot of people simply ignore the first one as they cannot connect it to anything/believe it is a joke, however I interpret it differently.

The first candy cadet story talks about a family that “missed a once in a lifetime opportunity” through an analogy about pizzaplex food discounts. This is the mimic talking about how Gregory and Vanessa left him, abandoning the makeshift family the mimic was creating. Additionally, the story states that since the family did not take the once in a lifetime deal, they all died. As we already know, the mimic tends to act like a bratty child occasionally, and this story would be a reflection of that. He is imaging a world where Gregory and Vanessa are punished for leaving him instead of being finally being free from his madness.

In the second story, it talks about a woman who defeats a witch. This one is a bit more complicated so I have to copy and paste the script to analyze each line.

''Now let me tell you a story,

a young woman who, when she was little, was led into a dark forest by a witch and almost eaten

She had escaped before being thrown into the oven but would have a **scar** for the rest of her life.

When she had grown, she sought revenge on the witch and entered the forest again willingly, this time with the confidence of age and experience.

She was greeted at the mouth of the forest by a young boy who offered to help guide her through the darkness

“Come,'' the boy said, ''rest here before killing the witch.''

The young woman was tired and would kill the witch in the morning.

She followed the boy into the house.

The oven door closed.

The witch would finally have her meal.''

For the first 2 lines, it talks about Vanessa creating MXES and trapping the witch. While this sounds like she defeats the witch, she doesn’t. In ruin, the mimic is still alive and waiting for her and Gregory to return.

In the third line, it talks about Vanessa entering the pizzaplex again to stop the mimic after Cassie is dropped in the elevator and the mimic is free, this time, she intends to kill the mimic.

Gregory waits for her at the door, offering to guide and protect her in the pizzaplex. She accepts this help and they venture down to finally get rid of the mimic.

When they get inside, Gregory tells her to rest. When she finally sleeps, Gregory is taken/controlled by the mimic and the mimic deceives Vanessa into thinking they are still together.

Under this belief, she continues to follow Gregory further down not knowing he has been compromised.

The witch having her meal would be Vanessa’s death; this story is predicting her fate. While it may seem unbelievable at first, when combined with the fact the Mrs Hippo is an important character in HW2 that also intends to predict the protagonist of HW2’s fate, it becomes less superstitious. This is not the first time candy cadet has predicted the future. He does it in ruin too, before Cassie frees the mimic. Candy Cadet is telling the events of Vanessa and Gregory’s last mission together

TLDR: Overall, to summarize, the mimic either believes Gregory is David, or is attached to him because of his resemblance to David, and hence forcing him to become a follower against his will.

#gregory fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf vanessa #cassie fnaf #tony fnaf #the mimic #fnaf theory #fnaf the mimic #fnaf security breach #fnaf sb #Another David Theory #David fnaf #fnaf ggy #ggy #candy cadet

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cerealkiller740 · 1 year

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1960 Foremost Carousel Ice Cream

#1960 #carousel #ice cream #icecream #dessert #cerealkiller #vintage food #food #vintage advertising #vintage magazine #kitchen #magazine #1950s #50s #50s ads #60s #1960s #foremost

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pickingupmymercedes · 7 months

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Under an Ipê tree - Lewis Hamilton

The three times your annual visit to Senna’s tomb brought something different

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Senna! Reader

warnings: mentions of death, mourning, AD 21', Lewis at Ferrari (rubbing salt into every open wound apparently)

wordcount: +1k

a/n: Not gonna lie, started this one with something in mind and it took a life of its own. I know Senna! Reader isn't everyone's cup of tea, so please, proceed with caution, because there is mention to real events and real emotions envolved with mourning. Also, AD 21', I'm sure as hell not over that, so here's another trigger warning.

a/n. 2: Those trees are how pink Ipês look in blossom, I know Brasil is not known for its colder months but those beauties come alive after the few cold weeks.

_______________________________________

Like most traditions it started without any intent on actually becoming a thing. You and Lewis would take a couple hours off on Wednesdays before the Brazilian GP every year, the destination a known one to everyone in the paddock. It was a journey you used to do by yourself until Lewis had been the brave, and first one, to ask you if he could tag along. He’d been to Senna’s tomb before, you knew that much, but the respect and adoration he held for your late father had you deciding he should be good company.

_______________________________________

“I swear I had never seen my mom angrier. Can you imagine her with the speaker at Interlagos shouting to everyone with an ear that I shouldn’t be racing and if anything happened Ayrton was to blame cause I wasn’t even old enough to be there” You told a laughing Lewis while remembering when your father faked an ID so he could sneak you to the track and teach you how to race in your brand new - Mclaren themed – kart. A Christmas gift he went out of his way to get to the famous Brazilian track circuit in time to open day.

“You know, my favorites snippets of his life are the ones you talk about, Sundays at the pool, ice cream dates, kart running without your mom knowing. Whenever someone talks about him it’s always about his wins, his hardships, his cars and battles … it’s almost as if he didn’t exist beyond formula 1, like we froze just a fraction of him and forgot all about the rest.”

You smiled at him, you liked how Lewis never questioned your feelings towards f1’s out of this world idolatry on your father, mainly because at the end of the day, to your 8 year old past self, Ayrton was first and foremost “pai”, the dude that thought you not to be afraid by throwing you into the ocean when no one was looking, the one that cooked instant noodles for dinner in spite of your mom’s pleads, the one that constantly tried to show you that love is a feeling we should act upon in the present and never wait for a so promised tomorrow.

“He would’ve liked you I think… would’ve hated to race you, for sure. But as a person, he would have probably seen you as one of the good ones, pointing out bullshit, fighting fia every chance you get, protecting the guys back at the garage, focusing on racing and not talking, looking out for everyone.” You answered truthly, as he respectfully held his hands behind his back looking at the tomb stone, while you casually sat in the edge of the stone, almost too comfortable around the place from all the visits you’ve done over the years.

“I think you should meet Galisteu someday, she’ll have way more interesting stories about him to tell you than I do.” You absentmindedly noted, remembering all she’s told you about your father, this other side to him you never got the time to see.

“Nah… we’re our truest around kids, his best version was the one you got to see. Now, what was that time he sneaked a stray dog onto your apartment?” he asked while reaching for your shoulder so you both could walk along the path back to the car awaiting to take you both back.

_______________________________________

“I don’t think I really remember the sound of his voice” you sighed looking up at the Ipê tree just beside the tomb. You had shown Lewis a photo of what it looked like once in full blossom before, in the Brazilian winter, and he promised you he would eventually find the time to come see it in its full glory in late June.

The walk in the cemetery, the light hearted banter, him opening his heart on dreams and the future and the confessions you would eventually make to Lewis about Ayrton were part of the annual occurrence you had both unspokenly agreed on, but that one line seemed to have hit him hard enough he just motioned you to go on, no answers or remarks.

“I mean, I know what his voice sounds like because there’s a thousand and one interviews with him, but I don’t think I can truly remember what he sounded like in real life … how he talked to me.” You explained it further, now looking at the Briton.

He engulfed you in a hug, the kind only he knew how, your tears leaving marks on his shoulders. You would rarely cry over anything related to your father, at least not in front of people anyway, but Lewis was… well, Lewis. You and Niki were the one who pushed, like hell, to sign him to Mercedes back in 2014 against everyone’s better judgment, and while you knew he would be every bit the driver and phenomenon he was, neither of you anticipated the friendship that came out of seeing him almost every GP you attended. A relationship that had crept its own way into your hearts, slowly allowing to see each other as something more than just good friends.

“He’s proud of you, wherever he is. I know that much” He whispered, leaving a soft kiss to your temple and bringing you even closer to his body.

_______________________________________

“He would’ve crashed into Verstappen back in 2021, wouldn’t he?” He prompted out of nowhere, gazing seriously at the tomb as you observed him pondering over the possible outcomes of a race that, like a ghost, had been following him nonstop, specially with the São Paulo GP fast approaching and with it his chances of securing his 8th title, two races before the end of the season.

“Start another Senna vs. Prost ?! ” You thought out loud, trying to read into his expressions and mannerisms, a talent of his you weren’t quite as good.

“Maybe I should’ve done it”

“You’re not like that Lew. You’re you and no one, not a single person, wants someone else” Your exasperation clear in your voice, hands reaching for his chin as his eyes locked into yours and he nodded, an unspoken agreement between the two of you, one you had to hammer into his head from time to time, that he may have Ayrton as his idol but he was just as much of an icon to the sport, and to a million of kids out there.

“On Sunday you’re going to reach that top step in your red suit, fulfill Ayrton’s dream and claim a championship for Ferrari. You. Not him, nor anyone else” and come the end of the race, he did just that. Smiling down at the sea of people in a mix of old Mercedes merchs and new Ferrari ones, dedicating his trophy to all the other people who believed in the impossible with him.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 x reader #ayrton senna #Senna!reader

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cupcakeinat0r · 9 months

Text

Broadway Baby ch.2

Happy New Year, Pookies!!! Here, as a treat<3

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: The new patron has a thing for you.

Warnings: NSFW, masturbation, mutual pining, and fluff ( a lil more plot building still, sorryyyy <3 )

Tags: sugar daddy AU, Miguel is a lonely+horny Dilf (not for long), reader is latina-coded (written by a Latina), yummy age gap

Word count: 5k

Ch. 1

Ch. 3

“She’s very pretty”, “She is, isn’t she?” Miguel responds to his enthused daughter. The whole way home, she went on and on about the show they had just watched, the main item of her praise being you.

Her little voice, filled to the brim with elation, yapping about the way you danced and “how high her legs can go!”, your effortless pirouettes, the effortless vocal olympics, and your convincing storytelling that had Gabriella hanging onto every single word you delivered. Little did Gabriella know that her father was watching with the same amount of revere, only difference is his eyes may or may not have gotten stuck on your sculpted legs and fat ass a few times. His thoughts had strayed in those moments, imagining what great pillows your thighs and juicy derrière would make. He’d rub his stubble as he fantasized about stuffing his face between them, eating your pussy out like a wild animal until his face was covered in your juices. He clenched his jaw trying to dismiss any other lewd thoughts and actually pay attention to the plot of the story.

Once Gabriella was bathed, changed into her unicorn pjs, was read her bedtime story and given her goodnight kiss, Miguel turns the lights out, retiring to his study; a corner of the house that he spent majority of his time in.

It was no question that Miguel felt lonely for the past 4 years, and in these hours late in the night, he felt especially lonesome. As he walked through his two story, million-dollar home toward his study, it was very quiet. It felt cold and empty. Miguel stops and looks around at the living room, hands on his hips, letting out a discontented sigh, the only light coming from the moon through the glass sliding doors leading to the enormous backyard.

It was like this every night for the past 4 years.

He’d pick up Gabriella from either day care or her grandma’s place, feed his child, prepare her for bed, then go to his study to do even more work, his only motivation being to provide for his precious daughter; his entire world and reason for living. Days like these where he was able to take Gabriella out for daddy-daughter dates weren’t as frequent as he wanted them to be. When those days did come, though, that was him driving her all over the city to do whatever her little heart desired. Ice cream. New dolls. The Park. If she named it, she’d have it.

He turned the light of his office on, then plopped down on his leather chair, tired eyes boring into a computer screen. This man had horrible posture. Normally, he’d be able to accomplish a couple of hours worth of work then head to bed, but he’s sat there for like 15 minutes, and hasn’t even done a single thing. His mind was on something else.

He turned from the computer and grabbed his phone sitting next to him. He unlocks it, going to the photo app and pulling up the picture he took about an hour ago.

The photo of you and Gabriella.

His tired eyes faintly lift, his lips curling into a soft smile. Still holding onto the phone, he props his head onto his elbow on the desk, his hand resting against his chin and mouth, staring at you.

Your smile is the first and foremost thing he notices, studying and admiring it. Your soft and full lips carving into the most gorgeous smile, one that he could’ve sat and stared at all night long. The way your eyes sparkled, falling on the camera beautifully.

You just emanated this warm glow that he felt like he needed more of; the very thing the house was lacking.

He then studied your body, remembering the way it looked up close when you had stood from kneeling for Gabriella and thanked him for coming to the show. All the right curves in all the right places. The way your leggings hugged your hips, the crease where the top of your thighs and butt met, resembling an upside down heart. Your thick thighs that looked like they belonged to a goddess. You were a total babe.

An idea flickered in his head.

He sat his phone down, returning to the computer and started typing. Hunched over the keyboard, he typed in your full name, remembering it from the playbill that Gabriella kept showing him before and after the show, clicking ‘search’ and finding all that he could get his hands on.

Mans was down bad. If only he knew you were on the other side of the city thinking of him, in bed, your hand in your panties rubbing your wet clit, breathlessly moaning out ‘daddy’ while replaying the same 2 seconds you had with him in your mind because that’s all you had to cling onto.

He managed to find a ton of stage pictures of you, a few premiere photos, as well as some modeling gigs you did a while back. Mierda, Que hermosa (fuck, how beautiful), he whispers to himself.

He also found a couple of videos of you, too. He immediately clicks on one of them, it being an interview for one of the shows you did last year. You were so adorable. He couldn’t help but fold his arms on the table and rest his head there, watching the video completely smitten by you and your little mannerisms, your accent, and soft giggles. You were so humble and down to earth, yet you demanded respect and exuded power. Fuck, it was hot.

It’s been a minute since Miguel had been back in the dating realm, but he needed to get to know you so badly. Even just a chance with you. He didn’t know you, the only insight to your personality being all the interviews he just binged watched, but he felt like you were just perfect. It was like a thousand hands pushing him toward you.

Adding another tab on his computer, he researched the theater that you were currently working for. He reads that they were looking for a new patron…

Who better than the CEO of Alchemax, right?

Miguel sits back with a smug look in his face, his hands floating to the back of his head as he relishes in his newfound pursuit. The opportunity was too good to pass up. Your theater will definitely be receiving a call in the morning.

Just as he was about to exit out of all his tabs and head to bed, the tab on you made him do a double take. There was a video he missed, one of you doing choreography… the thumbnail showing you in six inch heels and nothing but a sports bra, fishnets, and a thong.

It was a hip-hop heel class you had taken recently in the city. Your friend was the choreographer, and they were always so fun to attend! Miguel clicked on it instantaneously, curious as to what it was. The video starts, and the next thing he knows, all of his blood is rushing toward his cock. You were a little too good at throwing it back, hitting the splits like it was nothing, your long dark hair all tussled and messy. He could feel the crotch of his pants tightening, his breathing becoming labored. You occasionally would stare into the camera with the most seductive glare, his manhood twitching in his pants at the sight. You were mouth-watering. He bit at his bottom lip, hand gradually making its way under the table and mindlessly unbuckling his pants. God, how he wished he would’ve said something back at the theater when you were signing Gabri’s playbill. Maybe he would’ve gotten your number or at least something, then taken you out for the boujiest dinner, send Gabriella to her grandma’s so that he could fuck you dumb in his bed afterward, telling you that you can dance, sing, or act all you want for who ever, but at the end of the day, this pussy was his.

But no. He wussed out and stayed quiet, so now he’s in his study, watching you shake hella ass for the camera, head thrown back, murmuring curse words in Spanish, his thick, angry cock freed from the restraint of his slacks, and his thumb circling his already dripping tip, teasing himself before pumping real slow and trying his very best to replicate how it would’ve felt had it been your plump ass bouncing on his dick instead of his hand.

“Mierda, necesito ese coño tan mala… ah fuck…”

(Need that pussy so badly)

He’d periodically look down at the screen to watch the way your body grinded and jiggled, the slick sound of pre-cum against his calloused hand and his own groans filling the study. His pace on his girthy cock quickened as he got close, the other hand white knuckling his leather chair, and his brows furrowing in pleasure as he got more and more desperate.

“Aw f-fuck, fuck, fuckk-…” he whimpered through gritted teeth as he neared his peak. His hips lazily bucked into his fist once, twice, and three times until he came, strings of come spilling back on his hand, lap, and lower abdomen.

Miguel was a horny man with a capital H. The poor guy hasn’t had sex in 4 years… he has needs. As a matter of fact, this was a nightly thing, this just so happens to be the first time he had a specific person in mind, that person being you.

Yes, he might be the most eligible bachelor in Nueva York (and the richest), but Miguel has his reasons for being single all these years. Like you, Miguel was a picky guy, especially since Gabriella is in his life.

For starters, he didn’t want to rush into any relationship. Moving on from the death of his wife was already hard enough. Then, actually getting a second date after sharing that he had a daughter was almost impossible, so he sort of stopped trying at some point. And most importantly, Miguel wanted someone that was willing to love Gabriella like she was their own. He wanted someone that Gabriella would approve of more than anything, because the last thing he wants is for Gabriella to feel like she has a ‘wicked step-mother’ like the ones she watches in her cartoons. These reasons and a bunch of others were factored into why he hasn’t been in the game, until you, that is.

So far, you seemed to check all of his boxes.

What he wants to know is if he checks all of yours… and he’ll find out soon. He just had to be patient now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here he stands, on the stage with you, the cast, and your director. He’s just dropped 10k on the house, with two conditions that he:

- Gets a say in casting

- And has access to the theater

In return, the house gains an extremely lucrative patron and a very good business man. It was a win-win deal.

Being a geneticist, he didn’t know the first thing about theater. He’ll deal with that later. The mission at hand was to get your attention.

Whilst your director introduces him to the cast, his eyes travel across the stage and it’s actors, seeking out your beautiful self.

There you are.

Both of your eyes meet, and after smiling back at him, you look away, flustered. He was happy to know he had an effect on you. His eyes traveled down your figure. If this is how you dressed for rehearsals, he wanted to be present for all of them. Still looking down at the floor, bashfully smiling, you can feel your body heating up, an effect of Miguel’s eyes trailing all over you. You feel naked and like your under a magnifying glass.

He quickly had to refocus himself, almost forgetting he was there when he hears the director call his name.

Once Miguel gives his few words, your director sends you all back to rehearse. Miguel takes a seat amongst the ocean of velvet chairs. He can afford to spend an hour or two to observe. He was the CEO of his company, anyways. He was his own boss. He could do whatever he wanted.

Now you were getting nervous. Had you known he’d be sitting in and watching, you would’ve tried a little harder on your outfit and makeup.

You try to disguise your timidity as tunnel-vision focus as you finish stretching for the day, your eyes maintaining an inward gaze. As a little treat, you decide to show off a bit. A small, spontaneous burst of boldness, if you will. You get into your splits, leaning your head back and lifting your back foot, so that they meet in the middle. You do the same for the other side. Next, you hit your middle split, chin on the floor and all. And last but certainly not least, you stand on your feet, and while balancing on one foot, you lift the other so that your knee meets your chest, and extending it into a beautiful leg extension hold.

You do all this and act as if Miguel isn’t right there, practically drooling. It was like you were putting on a little show for him.

You lil minx.

And it succeeds it’s job, too. Seeing how bendable and supple you were, Miguel is literally losing his mind, going rock hard in his pants. Good to know he could bend you into a pretzel as he bullies his cock into your luscious cunt. Thank God he decided to sit a few rows back because surely someone would’ve noticed the tent forming on his thigh.

After finishing your stretch, you stole a quick glance his direction, averting your gaze just as hastily. He had that same cold stare that he had when walking in. He was a bit hard to read, but the hopeless romantic in you wanted to keep trying to get his attention without having to outwardly ask for it. You had hoped that those smiles he had given you last night and this morning were something more than just friendly.

“Alright, guys, gals, n’ everyone in between, let’s take it from Act I, scene 3, please. The blocking for that was iffy last night, I just want to go over it and drill it real quick.”

Just your luck. The starring man of your sexual fantasies shows up to your place of work and the first thing you’re asked to do is your solo. Just great.

He was here last night watching you, you can perform in front of him again. Not that deep.

You’ve literally been performing for almost 7 years now, you should be over that “stage fright” phase by now. At least you thought you did until this fine ass man showed up. Now you were shaking like a leaf. You swallow your doubts down, taking front and center. You can’t see it due to the intensity of the stage lights drowning everything out, but Miguel smirks as he sees you take your place, his crimson eyes not looking at you but looking into you. If it was up to him, the whole show would just be you.

The accompanist starts the song. You take a breath, and you just let go.

Like always, your voice is divine. The vibrato fills the room, your dynamics are bewitching, and your tone provides tranquility. You really were an angel up there. Miguel relaxes in his seat, his face muscles unwinding from how peaceful your voice sounds. He honestly could listen to you all day. He closes his eyes, creating a scenario of you and him in his home. He’s imagining you singing just like this, but with Gabriella in your arms, who is falling asleep peacefully. He smiles at the thought as he takes in your angelic voice. He’s startled by an eruption of applause and hollering. That’ll be your cast mates cheering you on for your performance, meaning your song was over. Miguel begins clapping as well.

“Good girl, y/L/n! As for Soraya, Vincent, and Mira, y’all’s port de bras were still a bit off-“, the director continues giving notes to your other costars as you break from the rest of the group, going on a water break. As you take a sip, you take a look over at Miguel, who happened to also be looking at you at the same time, so you immediately look away.

Go say something, idiota! (Idiot) You yell at yourself in your head. You should! The man has been eyeing you since he walked in here. He won’t you!!!

Stop acting like a child and say hi. You’re literally just gonna say hi. That’s all. Can’t possibly mess that up.

You’re already walking in his direction, rehearsing the different potential opening lines over and over again in your head.

Miguel sees you walking toward him in his peripheral, and he mentally celebrates. To be honest, he had actually planned on coming to you first, but he was just waiting until you weren’t busy with rehearsal. He’d hate to interrupt your work, but with you coming over, he wasn’t gonna protest.

The sooner, the better.

As you near his vicinity, your heart beat quickens. You hated initiating conversation. 99% of the time, you didn’t even know if what you were saying made sense, but you felt like you had to say something, even if it was a simple ‘thank you’ for his generosity toward the show and the house.

He sees you approaching him, offering you a warm smile as he sits back on his seat. You accidentally look down and see the way his jeans strain around his thick thighs and his still very obvious excitement, and Miguel catches this, quickly covering his hard dick by crossing his legs.

Dirty girl. You’re not as innocent as you look.

You immediately look back up and you’re now standing in front of him.

Act like you’re normal, Puta! (Bitch)

You push any and all anxiety downwards in your body and give him a cheesy smile best described as one that customer service workers give. It doesn’t matter that you were terrified of socializing, it’s time to put those acting skills to work and portray the most sociable person possible.

“Hi! Gabriella’s father, right?”

Miguel stands from his seat with a smile, dwarfing you when he does. “Yea, that’s me! Last night, she couldn’t stop talking about the show or about you. You made her night. It was a struggle getting her to fall asleep, actually.” He ends with a chuckle. It was such a simple gesture, but it was one that could’ve made you fold like a beach chair. You chuckle as well, your hands slightly shaking from the possibility of stuttering or stumbling on your words like you normally did when nervous. English wasn’t your first or strongest language.

Which, if you did, Miguel would’ve thought it was incredibly adorable.

“Aw, I’m glad she enjoyed it! As for bedtime, I guess I’ll take the blame, sorry for that!” You finish with a giggle, your voice as sweet as sugar. When talking to someone new, you always had that Disney princess voice. You don’t why, it’s just a habit. Miguel finds it cute, your breathiness and sweetness going straight to his cock, so that’s a plus.

“No, please, no need to apologize, really. Seeing her like that makes me happy. Thank you for that, and… for saying all those things about ‘following her dreams’. You know, I’m always telling her she could be whatever she wants, but it’s different when you hear it from someone else, someone you idolize. It also means a lot to her to see someone who looks like her on the stage, so… thank you for doing that for my daughter.”

He speaks so gently with you, a completely different tone from what he had used earlier this morning when speaking to the cast and director (and at his work, but you didn’t know that). You’re having to listen with even more intention than normal since if you don’t, you might get lost in those kissable lips of his. It was starting to get annoying. How dare he have those plump lips and you can’t kiss’em.

“Awe, oh my goodness, it’s my pleasure. That’s why I do what I do!” You say with a wide smile, which softens when you meet his gaze. You can feel yourself begin to calm down around Miguel.

“Well, now it’s my turn to thank you. I just wanted to let you know how appreciative I am. I know I can speak on behalf of the cast and crew and say that… we’re all extremely thankful of your generosity. It means a lot to us.” You fiddle with you fingers a bit as you speak, your eyes occasionally meeting the mahogany of his gaze before shying away again.

Miguel’s face softens at your gratitude and your evident shyness. Now he’s the one looking down with a giddy smile. His smile alone made your pussy quiver. Something’s meowing down there.

“You’re very welcome. After last night’s performance, I had to get involved. Besides…” he took a step closer, prompting you to look up at him, your smile faltering as your nerves fired up again. He was looking down at you, those broad shoulders practically casting a shadow over you, with that intense glare again, like you were forbidden fruit. You looked nervous with those innocent doe eyes, but on the inside, you’d never been more aroused in your life.

“I had to repay you somehow.” He says with a rather husky tone. You can only achieve a meek smile, your thoughts running with the multiple ways you wanted to be held by this man. With how low and gravel his voice sounded, something within you was unleashed; something that you’ve never experienced before. You could feel a flipping sensation in your stomach. You could’ve sworn your cunt was throbbing. You’ll have to change your thong for sure after this.

“I, um- well- thank you!” Is all you get out. Your mouth felt dry.

Muy bien trabajo, pendeja (Very good work, stupid).

“Well… sorry, I should probably get back to work“, you stutter. “Oh, of course, please, no need to say sorry. I should be the one apologizing for keeping you from rehearsing, sweetie.” He says, his hand grazing your side, making that area of your body tingle. Oh, your knees almost gave out. You had to escape the scene immediately or else you’ll burst right then and there.

You’re almost turning to walk away, giving him a small wave when his hand reaches for it.

“Encantada, y/n (nice to meet you) .” He says, the breath of his voice tickling your hand before planting a soft kiss. He pulls away with a small smack. The way his eyes peer from under his lashes as he holds your hand for a moment is making you melt. He stands straight again so that he could go back to his seat, and you return to the rehearsal.

“Egualmente, Mr. O’Hara.” (Likewise)

You’re gonna need new panties.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the days go by, Miguel starts showing up to rehearsals more and more. The two of you had this unspoken routine; the occasional glances you’d steal of one another, the ‘accidental’ brushing of hands, etc. As a matter of fact, you two have formed a bond, having short conversations here and there during breaks and intermissions. Miguel had become interested in your background, how you got into this industry, what training was like, and sooner or later, he’d start asking more personal questions. Questions like how’d you grow up, what you do outside of theater, etc. You were really glad to be able to connect over being Latin, sharing one another’s experiences that were unique to being Hispanic.

Yes, you were glad, but you were also a bit disappointed. You’d started forming a major crush on the older man, and it didn’t help that every night you came home, you’d lay in bed and fuck yourself with your fingers wishing it was his much thicker ones. If he hasn’t made a move at this point, surely it meant this was all he saw you as. A friend. You were being antsy, though. It’s only been, like, a week since he’s become the patron. You were over thinking again.

Miguel was just as happy to have gotten to know you. With each conversation he had with you, he was just falling deeper and harder. He had you right where he wanted you. It was only a matter of time before he asks you out. His patience was wearing thin, though, as he fucked into his hand each night pretending it was you. He’d call out your name, imagining how tight and warm that cute pussy of yours would be. He often wondered if you tasted as sweet as your personality. His dick leaks with precum just at the thought of it. He just had one more thing up his sleeve…

One afternoon, the show was cancelled due to technical difficulties, so you decided to rehearse in the studio backstage. You were practicing your solo, playing on the piano as you accompany yourself.

Being deep in your own mind, you didn’t realize that someone had walked in on you during the second verse, the tall figure leaning against the door frame as they watch. When you were finished singing your song, you hear clapping that scares the living daylight out of you.

“Oh!” You instantly jump up onto your feet, startled.

“Ay, perdoname (oh, forgive me), I didn’t mean to scare you.” He chuckles with his hands raised in surrender.

You let out a heavy sigh of relief, a small laugh falling from your lips as you do, “oh, it’s alright, don’t worry. I was just practicing.” You say, a shade of pink beginning to form on your cheeks. Miguel walks over to you, leaning on the other side of the piano. He wears a suit and tie, muscles bulging out of his shirt and pants, and his hair neatly slicked back. It takes everything to not reach out and touch them. He’s doing this on purpose. It’s not fair.

“I was dropping off another check to the directors and chatting with them for a bit just now, then I heard the most beautiful sound from backstage as I was leaving, so I had to investigate.” Miguel shoots you a knowing smirk, the ones that always made your knees buckle. You giggled, looking down again as to avert you blush from his gaze. “Oh, you’re just saying that.”

“I’m serious, y/n. You’re extremely talented. I’ve actually been meaning to ask you…”, he rubs the back of his neck.

Oh god, this is it. This is the moment.

“… if you give lessons?”

Wait, what?

“Como?” (What?)

“Well, you’re obviously multitalented and have an extraordinary gift, and I was wondering if maybe you’d give lessons to Gabriella, if you’ll have her?” You only look at him blankly, trying to process his words.

“I’d pay you, of course. Name your price, anything. You would come over and teach her. She’s been dying to learn and I was hoping to give this to her as her birthday present coming up.”

You cleared your throat. This was not what you were expecting.

“I-I don’t really teach… um… H-however,” you looked at Miguel’s eyes, and they were almost pleading you to take this offer. Gabriella seemed like an adorable little girl as well. Before you could finish your response, Miguel adds, “And just to make sure you have time for the lessons, I’ll pay you way more than what the diner is paying you right now, so you could leave that job if you’re comfortable with that.” This offer is sounding even more enticing.

You giggle at his eagerness. “Well, what I was going to say was, it’d be an honor. Gabriella seems like a total angel, and I’d love to teach her.” Miguel smiles warmly at your acceptance. “muchas gracias, y/n. I really appreciate this. Now, let’s talk business-“

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly name a price, I-I would even do it for free-“ Miguel waves his hands at you, brows furrowed, “Absolutely not. I wanna give you what you deserve. Name your price.” You think hard for a moment. You think back to your older friends who’ve been teaching young children for years and what prices they charged. You hated asking people for money. You hesitantly propose a starting price. “Seeeventy?” Miguel raised his eyebrow at this. “Is that for a one hour lesson?” “Claro (of course), I’d be teaching her one hour of piano once a week.” Miguel chuckles at this which confuses you. You’re so cute. So innocent.

“Alright, sweetie, let’s take that seventy and triple it, because I’d like for you to come in three times a week. One for piano. One for dance. One for voice. Let’s call it $600 per week.” Now you were the one chuckling. “Mira (look), I’m no mathematician, but last I checked, seventy times three does not equal 600.” He shrugs. “I might’ve rounded up a bit.” You shot him a concerned and confused look. “Look, sweetheart, I can afford it. Let me give this to you, por favor?” You felt bad. You didn’t want to take advantage of him, but he seemed like he really wanted to give this to you for whatever reason. Maybe since you’ve been a good friend?

“Wow, Mr. O’Hara-“ “Please. Miguel.”

“Well, Miguel, this is extremely generous of you. I-I don’t know what to say.” “Just say you’ll accept.” He says with a soft smile, his hand out for you to shake. You look down at it. You gently reach out, his hand taking yours and it feeling severely small in his. You both shake hands when you almost get lost in each others eyes. His hand feels so warm.

It’d look better around my neck.

You feel his thumb softly rub a circle on your hand. You both kinda wanna stay here, but you end up shying away, clearing your throat, “well, I look forward to coming in…?” “Tomorrow. Are you available tomorrow?” “Sure!” “Awesome. Here, add your number.” He says, giving you his phone. As you excitedly add your number, you both bask in this newfound partnership.

“Great. I should be getting back to the lab now, there’s this important project I should be overseeing.” “Oh, please! Go!,” you say, shooing him away, “Break a leg!” You use theater talk, which Miguel has been getting a hang of. He lets out a small laugh as he leaves. “Gracias, hermosa (thank you, beautiful),” he winks at you.

You blush at the sudden nickname and flirtatious gesture. The way his low, stern voice calls you little pet names creates a pool in your panties. You give him a small wave as you watch him leave. Your eyes never fail to fall on his irresistible tight butt. It should be a crime for a man to look this good.

Miguel leaves the theater feeling like a total champ. Everything is going along just like he hoped they would with you. Now he was gonna see how you were with Gabriella.

Then he’ll make his move.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed!!! I promise, there’ll be toe-curling smut in the next chapter<3 Imma make it up to y’all<3

Hope u liked it. Until the next chapter, mwah <3

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squadmuse · 5 months

Text

NSFW ALPHABET

THE SONNY CARISI EDITION

A - Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Sonny is very affectionate and very attentive. If you’re hungry, then he’s offering to whip something up in the kitchen. If you’re feeling sweaty then he’s offering to run a bath. If you’re feeling sore then he’s offering to give you a massage.

B - Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and their partner’s body)

Sonny likes his mouth. He knows a single word said in a certain way can have you wet as sin and that his tongue can leave your pussy absolutely wrecked. On you, Sonny loves your legs and how toned they are but he also loves the swell of your breasts.

C - Cum (anything to do with cum basically…)

Sonny is a traditional guy so he loves to cum in your pussy foremost. But he is a former Catholic school boy so he isn’t against getting kinky with you and cumming on your face & other places.

D - Dirty Secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Sonny has a secret folder on his phone that is filled with nsfw photos of you, taken on his professional camera. It helps him when he’s working long hours at Hogan Place alone or if he has to travel for a case. He just loves being able to photograph you in lingerie or in the nude, and it being your little secret that you both share.

E - Experience (how experienced are they, do they know what they are doing?)

Sonny isn’t the one to have one night stands, but he’s a quick learner and becomes very knowledgeable about what turns you on and your sensitive areas. I do feel he might’ve had a fling or two at college in a secret crazy phase, and that he had hidden Playboy magazines too.

F - Favourite Position (again, pretty self explanatory…)

Sonny Carisi, the vanilla ice cream man… he just loves missionary so much as he adores being so close to you, getting to kiss you as he fucks you so intimately. That doesn’t mean it’s bad, oh no Sonny absolutely wrecks you!

G - Goofy (are they more serious in the moment or are they more humorous?)

Hmm… Sonny can be either. He’s a chatty, goofy guy and perhaps says something that ends up with the two of you in a bout of laughter. But he can be a man on a mission, determined to make you orgasm one after another.

H - Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

Sonny is very well groomed. He takes pride in his appearance in every way and it’s no difference down under.

I - Intimacy (how are they during the moment? Are they romantic?)

Oh Sonny is so intimate and so romantic… sex is more than just sex to him. He’s with you because he absolutely loves and adores you, it’s an extension of his love for you. Sonny is all about the emotional connection within it! Candles, rose petals, body oils and massages… he’s going to spoil you so much!

J - Jack Off (masturbation…)

It happened more so when he was single, but now that he’s in a relationship with you he doesn’t do it as much. It only happens if one of you are out of town and doing phone sex with the other.

K - Kink (what are their kink/s?)

Breeding kink 110%. Sonny has such a big breeding kink and wants a large family with you… he wants to see you swell with his babies. But Sonny, that former Catholic schoolboy is quite kinky once you’re in a stable relationship together… phone sex, spanking, handcuffs, edging, lingerie, dominant/submissive, mirror sex, roleplay, titfucking etc..

L - Location (where are their favourite places to do the do?)

Sonny likes the privacy of home first and foremost. While he’s not against riling you up in public, that is all he’ll do until the two of you get home. Now… when home? It’s open season - bathroom, living room, dining room, hallway, the entire house has been christened more than once!

M - Motivation (what turns them on, what gets them going?)

A few things that you do can get Sonny going. He loves seeing how good you are with babies and children like his nieces, cousins and godchildren as it gets his breeding kink in overdrive. He loves seeing you opinionated and intelligently standing up for yourself and others, and he loves seeing you dressed up (but also seeing you in nothing but slinky lingerie). Sonny also loves seeing you being domestic, cooking etc. as it just kicks something off within him.

N - No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs?)

Sonny is all about consent. He will never do anything without consent from you, he’s seen too much via his work in the police department and the district attorney’s office to do anything else. He’ll never hurt you either, the most he’ll do is spanking your ass.

O - Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill etc)

Sonny is a giver and loves to eat you out. He’s at his happiest making you feel good and sex is no different. However, he won’t say no to a blowjob (and a few times it resulted in a risqué rendezvous in his locked office)

P - Pace (are they fast and rough, soft and sensual?)

Sonny is a romantic and loves to make soft, sensual love to you. But sometimes he or you need to fuck like rabbits and have the bed creaking like mad.

Q - Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often etc.)

With Sonny’s job in the district attorney’s office, he has longer hours than before and sometimes a quickie is all the either of you have time for, before or after work. But Sonny loves it either way, getting to be so intimate with you. Quickies also happen more often when you’re trying for a baby too.

R - Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks?)

Sonny isn’t the biggest risk taker. He isn’t against experimenting in bed, he just feels there isn’t any need as the two of you have such great sex wherever you are. Now he does have a locked secret photo album on his phone and does phone sex with you every so often, but that is as risky as Sonny will get.

S - Stamina (how many rounds can they go? How long do they last?)

A few rounds are the usual for Sonny, but he puts a lot of foreplay in beforehand for you.

T - Toys (do they own toys, do they use toys? on a partner or themselves?)

Sonny isn’t that keen on toys, other than his old handcuffs being used. Blindfolds maybe and perhaps some edible chocolate?

U - Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Sonny loves to tease you, he knows exactly what you like and will repeatedly rile you up with a sneaky smirk on his face. But sometimes it’s unintentional on his part, he just gets you so needy doing mundane things.

V - Volume (how loud are they, what sounds do they make etc?)

Sonny is somewhat loud, and he loves to talk during sex but it’s not just dirty talk. He groans, moans and checks in on you.

W - Wild Card (random headcanon)

Sonny wants to have sex with you in his childhood bedroom back in Staten Island… he just won’t do it with his parents there and is waiting for the next time they go away on vacation and need a house sitter.

X - X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His cock is long and slim like the rest of him, and Sonny is uncut.

Y - Yearning (how high is their sex drive)

Sonny’s sex drive can be high at times, but with what he sees at work it can make him low. With the hours you both work that can make you need each other so much, but weekends are usually the best time.

Z - Zzz (how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards)

Sonny won’t fall asleep until he has made sure that you are okay and feel satisfied and sated. He’ll cuddle into you, either as the big spoon or your head on his chest, and let slumber take hold.

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi x you #sonny carisi imagine #svu #law & order svu

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