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mickandmusings · 5 months ago

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i. true blue

part one of the 'hangman & honey' series!

summary: The summer he turned nine, Jake was convinced he'd spend it like any other summer: riding his bike down dirt roads with all the other kids, lending a helping hand on the family farm, and brushing up on his backyard football. His life hits a tailspin when a new family moves into the house just down the road, leading him to a friendship and feelings he never saw coming.

word count: 4.5k

warnings: cute childhood friends to lovers, small sections of angst, tragic backstories and southern traditions. primarily self indulgent. this is written by someone from the most southern small town imaginable, so it's written with love as an ode to my own hometown, enjoy. <3

In the great state of Texas, just a few hours south of Austin, sits a small town called Haven. It was a fitting name for a town so picturesque-miles and miles of endless farmland, stunning sunsets and sunrises, and the beauty of the state's flora and fauna. However, in all it's Southern small-town glory, it was home to little else. There was the hub of activity 'downtown'-the one school system, a family-owned restaurant, a convenience store, the First Baptist Church of Haven, and a hair salon. On the outskirts of Haven sat a large patch of barbed-wire fenced farmland, one that spanned most of the remaining parts of the small town, more than the eye could see. It was large enough to have its own unpaved road-Seresin Farm Road-and was home to only one house, the Seresin family house.

The Seresin family had owned the land long before the turn of the century, and had been passed down from generation to generation ever since. The Seresin's owned much of Haven to begin with, their farmland excluded. Most of the businesses rented their buildings from Jacob Seresin Sr., with the exception of the school system and the church. Despite their seemingly looming hand of ownership, you'd never know they held power at all. Mrs. Janet Seresin-first lady of the Seresin estate-was known as the town egg lady, always more than happy to pass out dozens of Styrofoam cartons free of charge. She held the unofficial prize of having the best homemade ice cream in all of Haven, and anyone in the small town would attest. Jacob Seresin Sr.-head of the Seresin farm and Janet's husband-was regarded in the same warm fashion. You could find him driving up and down the main street in his trusty red farm truck, often loaded with feed or some kind of good necessary to keep his place up and running. He'd stop and talk to anyone and everyone, literally everyone, he knew. He had been the one to help nearly everyone in his community rebuild after natural disasters, always willing to help someone in need, never asking for anything in return. The Seresin's were Haven's unofficial first family, leaders of sorts, in the small town.

Their son, Jacob Seresin Jr., was elusive and a topic nearly everyone knew to avoid. He had been raised on the family farm, attended the local school, lived and breathed the same life as everyone else, but found himself itching for more. He quickly fell into trouble with the local law, and with a last name like Seresin, he got away with mostly everything, which, perhaps, was his greatest downfall. He had gotten his high school girlfriend-a sweet local girl named Georgia Joann Smith-pregnant their senior year. When she broke the news, he'd taken off in his truck to Kentucky, where it was rumored he still was, looking for something he could never find. Nine months later, Jacob Thomas Seresin III, or 'Jake' as he preferred, was born, healthy, all ten fingers and toes. Just hours after birth, his mother fell gravely ill, and made her own swift exit in death. She left behind only one thing-her son. Jacob Sr. and Janet took him in with no questions asked, raising him as any grandparent would. Jake, luckily, seemed to inherit more of his mother than his father. His blonde hair gleamed in the Texas sun, turning almost gold in the heat-filled summers. His green eyes held his kindness-a sharp contrast to his father's dark brown eyes that seemed to only hold his anger. Jake bore Georgia's gentle soul, her wide smile and her witty personality, she lived on in Jake entirely. So when the new family moved into the empty house at the end of Seresin Farm Road, Janet had zero hesitations in sending Jake down to welcome their new neighbors to Haven. She'd spent the entire morning making homemade bread, having to occasionally swat away Jake's hands from the counter or tell him to completely get out of the kitchen while the loaves cooled. After lunch, she handed him a well-wrapped loaf and gave him instructions to take it to the newcomers, which Jake did without complaint. He'd placed the bread into the metal basket attached to his royal blue bike, trekking down their long and winding driveway. When he'd arrived nearly ten minutes later, he had parked his bike on the edge of the lawn, against a towering oak tree. He made a point to kick the dirt off his shoes, not wanting to track it onto the seemingly freshly painted, white wrap-around porch. He lifts his first to wrap against the door, one with a glass cut-out, much different than the screen door on his farmhouse. He fixed his windswept hair in the reflection of the window, remembering Granny's words of always looking well put together when meeting new people. The door's lock clicked, and when Jake looked up to see the man or lady of the house, he instead had to look down, finding a girl who couldn't be much younger than him. Her eyes were wide as they stared up at him, hair pushed out of her face with colorful butterfly shaped clips. Her eyes were captivating, and all of Jake's intended Southern charm had flown out the window. She smiles shyly at Jake, wondering why this stranger was on her porch.

"Uh, this is for you-or,uh-your parents," his arm extends the bread as he stammered. "My Granny made it, we live at the farm on the end of the road, we-uh, she-wanted to invite you to the neighborhood. I'm Jake."

Jake stuck out a clammy hand for her to shake, and winced internally. His Pawpaw would be reprimanding him if he saw this-it wasn't polite to make a lady shake your hand. Shaking hands was for business deals, and Jake had just shook her hand like she'd bought his show heifer. Jake's mind was clouded for a reason he couldn't explain, and he wasn't thinking straight. The girl blushed and smiled slightly.

"I'm Honey," her voice was quiet but pronounced. "That's not actually my name, but everyone calls me Honey, so, you can call me Honey. Um, is your house the one with the big magnolia tree in the front?"

Jake nodded quickly. Her eyes widened, shimmering with something Jake couldn't make out. Quietness settled over them before Honey spoke again.

"Is that your bike?" Honey points at his bike leaning against the tree.

"Yeah! Most kids ride their bikes everywhere here."

"C-Could I ride with you, maybe?" Her voice was suddenly shy, no longer meeting Jake's eyes. "It's just summer and I-I don't know anyone yet and-"

"Yes!" Jake cut her off, and mentally scolded himself, but as Honey flashed him a wide smile he couldn't find himself caring. She tossed the bread on the table just inside the door, slid on her purple jelly sandals and shut the door behind her. She led Jake to the empty garage, only full of empty moving boxes and a bright yellow bike. As she led them out of the garage and towards the edge of the yard, Jake's eyebrows furrowed as he looked at her.

"Shouldn't you let your momma know you left, leave her a note or somethin'?"

Honey's eyes cut to her feet, her smile fading.

"She won't care, I'll be back before she will. S-She's a nurse, works the night shift at the old folks home in the next town over."

Jake nodded but said nothing, pedaling off on his own bike to lead her back down to his farm.

From that moment on, Jake and Honey were practically inseparable. The entire summer was spent with a blue bike parked next to a yellow one, swimming in the creek behind Jake's house, and running around the farm with nothing but their imagination and makeshift stick swords. Jake's Border Collie, John Wayne, became a frightening dragon of their imagination, and Honey taught Jake how to make flower crowns from the wildflowers in the fields. Janet had grown fond of looking out her front window to see Honey sitting next to Jake under her magnolia tree, reading her Boxcar Children book as much as she could with Jake chattering next to her. Even when Jake was busy with his farm chores, Honey would sit placidly under the tree, enjoying the occasional breeze as she read her book of the week. After the long summer, Jacob Sr. had started referring to it as "Honey's tree," and he'd laugh to himself every time he saw the girl sitting quietly under it. Both Janet and Jacob Sr. loved having the sweet but shy girl around, especially when they found out that she spent most of her time alone in that house down the road. On the last night before summer ended, Jake and Honey sat under the tree, swatting at mosquitoes as the Texas sun set. Jake looked over at Honey, who had finally put her book down, and asked:

"Why do you like this tree so much?"

She smiled a smile that Jake knew to be half-hearted and brought her knees to her chest, her chin resting on her kneecaps.

"It reminds me of home."

Honey had moved from her tiny town in Mississippi that summer, and she often talked of her home there, the friends and family she'd left behind, how her mother had left when her grandmother died, looking for a fresh start.

"My Gram had a tree like this in her yard, and she'd babysit me when Mom worked," Honey's eyes rested on the ground, where she was picking grass from the ground around her bare feet. "She'd read to me a lot, and it was my favorite place in the world. Sometimes when I read here it sort of feels like I never left."

Jake simply nodded, thinking of the mother he'd only met in pictures, and the grandparents he wouldn't trade for the world's richest man. Neither of them spoke a word about the statement she made, but they understood what it meant to both of them. Even at age nine, Jake was in love with the girl next door, even if he didn't know it yet. From the first year they met and every year after, Jake and Honey found themselves under the magnolia blossoms. Well, almost every year...

As the budding teens entered into their freshman year at Haven High School, the differences between their personalities became more apparent than ever. Jake was the ideal all-American southern boy: athletic, outgoing, someone who guys high-fived in the hallway, and one that girls would be late to class just to get a glimpse of. Jake was never one to let the attention get to his head, at least not too much. Sure, he enjoyed the feeling of being liked, and, sure, he could be cocky at times, but he was never the one to bully those completely different from him. Someone like Honey. Honey had always been quiet, shy by nature, and the very definition of an advanced student. She was beloved by her teachers, but not as well received by her classmates. With a town as small as Haven, it was either incredibly easy or incredibly hard to make friends, and for Honey, it seemed to be the latter. It wasn't as if Honey was perpetually odd-she wasn't homely or weird, just quiet. Jake was the only one who knew about her boisterous laugh that could be prompted with his corny jokes, or her wild streak, like sneaking into his bedroom window after she and her mother got into yet another fight.

At the beginning of the school year, she spent her breaks talking to Jake, and she sat next to him at lunch. He'd let her ramble about her current read, and he'd talk about yesterday's football practice. She'd leave with the promise to come around for dinner, Mrs. Janet was making her favorite. However, when football season started, and Jake had made an infamous saving play at one of the first few games, he had peaked in popularity. Honey found herself on the outside of his swarm of new friends, listening to him talk to his football buddies while the girls that followed shot her sympathetic or lethal glances. She'd ignored it at first, simply enjoying her paperback until Jake could spare himself a minute to talk to her. Eventually, the bell would sound before she even got the chance to say 'hello' to him, and, with her heart suddenly heavy, she'd make her way to class. The routine lasted for weeks and she'd find herself waiting by the phone, figuring Jake would call her after football practice, but she'd only be greeted with silence through the night. After the second week of no contact, she decided to leave Jake and his new friends to their own devices, opting to sit in the library for breaks, taking her lunch in the empty courtyard. It was like Jake hadn't noticed her absence at all, at least in her mind, but Jacob Sr. and Janet noticed immediately. They had missed her bright aura that lit up their farmhouse, watching as she greeted the dogs as she parked her now lilac bike in the driveway. Janet missed her companionship as Honey would watch her sew patches onto Jacob Sr. and Jake's clothes, and her husband missed catching up with her over dinner. The only time they'd see her anymore would be on Friday nights, at Jake's games. She'd sit in the bleachers with them, decked out in her navy blue and gold, watching intently as the boys in jerseys made their way up and down the field. At the end of the game, she'd say her goodbyes before Jake would find his grandparents and they wouldn't see her until the following Friday. In typical grandparent fashion, Janet had assumed Jake had done something. Her grandson was kind, gentlemanly, but he also had a sharp tongue and a big head, which he sometimes used in malice. So, over dinner one Thursday, Janet finally dipped her toes into the water.

"Maybe you should talk to Honey after the game tomorrow, she always seems to slip away before you two get to catch up."

Jake's eyebrows furrowed as he wiped his mouth, looking up at his grandmother.

"Honey? At a football game? Granny, I don't really think that's her scene. She hates when we have a pep rally at school, I don't think she's going to a football game voluntarily."

Jacob Sr. and Janet give each other a knowing look across the table.

"How blind are ya, son?" Jacob Sr.'s voice is accusatory.

Jake looks up from his plate, looking over at his grandfather with a confused look.

"She's been at every game this season, Jake," his grandmother's voice speaks, much softer than her husbands. "She sits next to us in the stands. When was the last time you two talked? Just the two of you?"

Jake scoffs at his grandmother's accusation, his head shaking as he tried to wrack his brain for the last time he'd talked to his best friend.

"Maybe a week or so ago, I-I can't remember."

"That's a damn shame," Jacob Sr.'s voice grumbled. "She's a sweet girl, smart too. I know she doesn't run the same circles as you and your new buddies, but she's a good friend Jake, and you're treatin' her as if she doesn't exist. She still comes to all of those games. I'm not tellin' you what to do, but maybe give her a call, and pray to the Lord above that she wants to talk to your dumb ass."

Jake's heart sank as he carried out his nightly farm chores that night, thinking of how he had treated Honey. He knew what the other girls in the group said about her, how she was 'quiet' and 'weird,' often making comments that were completely false or disrespectful. Jake always shut the comments down, but found himself not bothering to talk to the one person who had always been there for him. Was it his fear of his new friends thinking he was weird? Did he think he wouldn't be surrounded by his football buddies if they saw him talking to someone like Honey? As Jake shut the barn door, he sighed, deciding he didn't care about either. Honey had been his friend for years, long before high school or popularity, or stupid teenage rules. She'd never changed, she was still the girl he fell in love with all those years ago. That night, as he sat by the phone thinking of what to say, he'd heard the faintest knock on his door. He figured it was his Granny coming to tell him goodnight, so he made quick work of making his way to the door and flinging it open. Instead of his grandmother, Honey stood in front of him. She held an algebra textbook in her arms, her eyes never meeting his, her arms crossed protectively. Her eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot, tear streaks staining her cheeks. She'd been crying, and Jake knew Honey all too well, her tears had nothing to do with the algebra assignment. Something had happened to her.

"Uh, hey, I-I know it's late, and I didn't want to bother you, but I've been workin' on this stupid algebra assignment for three hours, and i-it's not making a lick of sense. You-You're the only person I know who could help me, so if you could just show me how to do one, I'll be out of your hair. I know you have a game tomorrow, and you should really sleep-"

Honey was rambling, picking the skin around her fingernails, she was nervous. It shattered his heart in his chest, he could never remember a time when she was nervous around him.

"No, no, you're fine, Honey. C'mere."

He opened the door wide for her to come in. She nodded in thanks, hovering awkwardly in the space between his bed and his desk. Any other time she'd plop herself down on his plaid comforter, all but curling into the sheets and falling asleep. Now, she didn't know what to do. She hadn't spoken to him in weeks, and he was different now. He wasn't just Jake, her Jake, he was Jake Seresin, up and coming star of their hometown football team, someone that a person like her should avoid in the hallway, someone that shouldn't even be talking to her.

He pushed the chair of his desk out for her, figuring she'd feel more comfortable there. She laid her textbook and notebook out flat, opening the book to the dozens of equations she couldn't make out. Honey was incredibly smart, but as her math classes advanced, she found herself staring at her own notes in utter confusion.

"Um, so, this is on polynomials," she started. "But I couldn't even tell you what a fuckin' polynomial is and I'm starting to lose my mind."

Jake quickly noted the physical manifestation of her worry-her hair messy with the way she had been running her hands through it, the chipped nail polish on her nails, and her chewing on her bottom lip. His heart ached, how had he not noticed her struggling? They were in the same class, she sat two chairs in front of him.

"Honey, I'm sorry."

She didn't even spare him a look.

"It's not your fault I'm stupid, Jake."

Jake took her arm in a light hold, turning her to look at him.

"I'm not talkin' about algebra, and you're not stupid, first of all. You're one of the smartest people I know. I'm talkin' about the way I've been actin'. It's not fair to you, I've been an ass. I've been ignoring you at school, treatin' you as if you aren't even there. You've come to all my games and I didn't even know. Thanks for that, by the way, but, I mean it, Honey. I'm sorry."

Honey shrugs, her face sprouting a faint pink blush.

"'S fine, people grow up, move on. You don't have to apologize for leaving me for people more like-minded. I get it, I don't necessarily fit the mold of your new friend group. It's okay. They seem to really like you though, and you seem happy. Plus Sam is...she's pretty. I get why you wouldn't want me hanging around."

"Sam?" Jake's voice was confused. Sam was a cheerleader, and she was friends with the girlfriends of his teammates. They had a passing conversation from time to time, but they weren't dating. "What're you talkin' about?"

Honey's brow furrowed, tapping her pencil's eraser against her book.

"Sam Vance told me like the third or fourth week of school that you were together, around the same time we stopped talking. I just assumed that was why you didn't want to talk anymore. It's sort of the reason I've kept my distance."

Jake's blood boiled, he was not dating Sam Vance. She was heinously mean, even to her own 'friends.'

"Honey," Jake started, his eyes full of sympathy, his flash of anger flickering. "I'm not dating her, not by a long shot. I don't know why she lied to you, I've never said more than a few sentences to one another, she's...mean. She's vicious, I'm sorry."

Honey's head only shook in a nonchalant manner. She was good at this, pushing people away, Jake had noticed it over the years. After years of practically raising herself, those she loved either abandoning her or leaving her in death, she expected everyone to leave. Honey herself knew that someday Jake would leave her, just like everyone else, so when he pulled away, she didn't bother trying to stop it, no matter how it hurt.

"Stop that. I know what I did was shitty, and it seemed like I didn't want you there, but this isn't me dumping you off, Honey. I swear. And I know something's wrong, you're not crying because of a homework assignment. If it's because of what happened between us, I'll do anythin' to make it up to you-"

Honey's bottom lip trembles, her eyes lining with tears as she shakes her head. She looks up at Jake, pain clouding her usually kind eyes.

"You don't have to worry about me, Jake."

"No I don't," he stated honestly. "I want to, Honey. You're my best friend, and you're hurtin'. You may not need me, but I want to help you. I know I haven't been a good friend, the worst actually, but talk to me, please."

Honey looks at her lap, bringing her knees to her chest in an action of protection Jake was familiar with-every time she has to get vulnerable, it's her defensive action, as if curling up in a ball would save her from hurt.

"For what it's worth," Honey started, her voice small and quiet. "I really don't understand polynomials, like, at all. But you're right, it's more than that." She pauses and takes a deep breath, Jake's heart shattering. Her inability to speak freely, the bags under her eyes, her nervous habit at the forefront-he'd never seen her so tired, so heavy.

"About a week ago, I came home and all of my mom's stuff was gone. I mean, all of it, her bedroom was completely empty. She left a note on the kitchen table." Her eyes focus on the Cowboys poster on the back of Jake's door, her eyes dulling. "She decided to move in with her boyfriend, and he-he doesn't even know she has a child, so she left the house for me. Which is fine, we never got along anyway, it's just been...lonely. She pays the bills and leaves money, so it's not like I'm fending for myself, but, it just really sucks she doesn't really care about me. I guess it shouldn't, but-" She pauses, eyes dazed out, silent tears running down her cheeks. "Sorry for the soapbox, I just, it all is piling up, and now I'm crying over polynomials." She laughs dryly. "Just, God I've missed you, Jake. I sort of pushed myself away from you because I thought you'd found people you'd rather spend your time with. I'm nothing like you interest wise, and-"

"Stop putting yourself down, I won't stand for it." Jake looks at her as she laughs in a quiet manner, hands wiping away her silent tears. Jake moves directly in front of her, making eye contact. "I mean it. You're ten times cooler than any of them. Most of the guys on the team, pretty laid back, cool, but all they ever want to talk about is football and how hot so-and-so is, and their girlfriends? Worse, by a thousand, at least most of them. I'd like to think I'm not that shallow, right?"

Jake Seresin was a lot of things, but shallow was not one of them.

"Please hang out with me tomorrow? I'll have Granny pick you up for school. You and I are going to talk until the bell rings, you've got to catch me up on that Scarlett girl in that book you were reading last time we talked. I'm sitting with you at lunch because Granny made me promise to bring you lunch, and you gotta catch me up on last week's Dawson's Creek episode. Then I'll see you at the game, and we can swing by The Burger Basket, you, me, burgers, fries, a strawberry shake for you and a chocolate one for me."

Honey laughed, nodding her head, her heart warming as she heard Jake ask for the things she thought he found annoying-her ranting about the books she was reading, or the TV shows she was watching. She wiped her tears, standing and hugging the blonde boy who knew her better than herself sometimes. Her chest felt lighter, it felt good to be known so incredibly well. He squeezed her tight before she let go. (Jake never, ever, let go first.) She sits back in the desk chair, sliding in next to Jake, her head falling on his shoulder.

"So," she spoke after a moment of silence. "Polynomials?"

Jake chuckles.

"Let's make a deal, Hon. I explain to you how to solve these equations, and you explain to me what the hell Shakespeare is talking about in those English assignments for Mrs. Elmer's class?"

Honey laughs, she and Jake were both good students, but in two very different subjects.

"You've got yourself a deal, J."

Jake smirks, taking the pencil that sat in the crevice of the book, his scratchy handwriting across her paper as he attempted to explain. In a matter of minutes, Honey began to understand, a smile forming as she grasped the concepts. Jake's green eyes met hers in the light of his desk lamp, glimmering, and the breath in his chest catches, his heart hammering. His palms sweat around the pencil and he can't look away from her.

"You alright, Seresin?" Honey's voice is laced with humor, and it snaps him out of his trance.

"Y-Yeah."

Jake had lied, he had just realized, for the first time since Jake had known Honey, he was beginning to see her as something more than just his best friend. When he looked at Honey, he noticed something he'd never noticed before, she was beautiful.

#jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #top gun imagine #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #requests

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bb-eilish · 2 years ago

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𝒜𝓇𝓉𝒾𝒻𝒾𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝐿𝓊𝓈𝓉

pairing: AI!Soobin x f!reader

warnings; swearing, pet names, dirty talk, multiple smut scenes, pining, nipple play, rough sex, phone call, praise, robo soobin, no condom use, creampie, jealousy/delusion, stalking, kissing, blonde soobin. (if i missed something pls lemme know!!)

summary; Your close friend’s new riches makes christmas forever memorable.

A/N: I read @writerpetals “artificial heart” and couldn’t help but picture soobin, please read their work it’s great!

𝓐 gasp is heard through the entire restaurant, you would care about the dozen eyes suddenly on you, but you can’t. Your closest friend, Yoon, has struck gold, she’s been working as a higher up at your guys’ office job for the longest time and has been very buddy buddy with the CEO. So when the former CEO retired she left the company to Yoon, who now has inherited a million dollar company!

“You’re kidding.” Your mouth is glued to the ground as she beams at you, “Isn’t this amazing? Just in time for Christmas too. I worked for so long and it finally really payed off. Now I just need to find you a present.” She thoughtfully looks at her food, the flame of the candle between you two lighting up her features warmly. “Heh, if only you could buy me a boyfriend.” You joke as you poke at the salad in your dish.

“Boyfriend hm? I see…” She smiles as you both carry on, dinner is filled with disbelief as she tells you just how much she has now and the gossip the old CEO told her.

///////////

“Merry Christmas, Y/n. Bring him in over here!” Yoon greets and then shouts behind her, the smile on your face twists into confusion. “What?” You’re confused even further when two men heave a box up the steps to your porch and slide in through the door. They drop it off by the tree and you gape. A box that’s at least 6’0 sits next to your tree now, the presents under it look much smaller in comparison.

Yoon’s smile almost hurts your eyes as she beams at you, “I think you’re gonna love it!” She goes in for a hug that squeezes the air from your lungs, “Yea, I bet I will. I hope you like your presents.” Your nerves flare at the idea of her not liking what you got her because of this unbelievably tall present.

“You seriously didn’t have to get me anything so big, I’d be happy with a card honestly.” She shakes her head at your modesty and smiles, “You deserve the world Y/n, don’t worry about it.”

“Coffee? We can open presents after I make some?”

“Sounds lovely, be quick or I might open your gift myself.” You giggle at her and go to put a K-cup into the machine. While waiting you can’t help but to admire your kitchen, it’s your favorite style and just the right size. It’s perfect and even better with the adorable christmas decorations everywhere. But sort of….empty. The decorations are nice and all, but ever since your ex left awhile ago it’s missing something.

The sound of the coffee squirting into your cup takes you out of your thoughts as you wait till it’s done and put a new one in. “Here, coconut french roast, just how you like it.” Bending over slightly, you pass her the hot christmas mug and go back to the machine. It’s just finishing up your cup.

“Alright, open this first.” You grab a small wrapped box and pass it to her, the snowflake paper contrasting to her red and back flannel pajamas. She pushes a stray piece of hair behind her ear before digging into the bright paper. “Oh my god, this is so pretty. Is this the one we saw in the window of that one store?” She asks in awe, “Hehe, yeah it is. Do you like it?” Watching her squeal makes you feel warm, she means so much to you and you can only hope she knows it.

“I love it, thank you so much. Here open this!”

You both go back and forth opening the presents until the last one is inevitably the tall one. It intimidates you as you step closer and dig a nail under the tape that’s stuck at the sides. You jump when she changes her mind about you opening it, “Actually, y/n. Turn around, I’ll let you know when to look.”

You arch a brow at her but turn around nonetheless, there’s the sound of paper, cardboard, and then a button. She squeals happily as she tells you to turn around. Your heart beats wildly in your chest as you fidget with your fingers and swing around.

First you blink, and then again, and once more. A man stands there, a gentle smile on his face as he greets you. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. L/n. I’m Soobin, I hope I can be of service.” You hesitantly meet his hand. “Um, I’m sorry, I’m confused.” You eye both of them until he responds.

“I am your assistant, I was customized for you.” That honestly made your confusion worse as you look towards Yoon, she laughs as she begins to explain. “This is Soobin, your AI assistant. He cost a pretty penny but it was so worth it, once I saw how customizable he was, I knew he could be the one for you.”

“He’s a robot?” You ask dumbfounded, he smiles again. A very human-sounding chuckle leaves him as he nods. You eye him up and down not so subtly, his hair is almost a platinum blonde, it sits neatly styled over his forehead. He wears a tidy looking black knit sweater matched with jeans and sneakers.

"Looks real doesn't he? He can do whatever you like, he can cook,clean, grocery shop, even drive a car." She stops to take a step closer to you, leaning into your ear. "And he's made for you in other ways as well." She laughs before getting a loud notification. You stare at her wide eyed as she apologizes and leaves to go manage the company or whatever she said.

"Merry Christmas Ms. L/n. Would you like me to clean up?"

You peer around your living room, the ground is covered in hundreds of pieces of wrapping paper. "Uh, sure. Thank you..." You can’t help but eye him curiously as he gathers the paper and random boxes around you. You have to admit, he does look incredibly real. Especially when he bends over so fluently to grab at the garbage. He even breaths out a little while he does it as well.

“Where should I put these?” He questions when he’s done, it honestly scares you a bit as you were spacing out — thinking about him of course, he’s an entire robot.

“Oh uh, the trash cans are in the garage. That way.” You point to the correct door, he nods with a smile and is on his way.

The coffee in your hands grows colder as you watch him, you’d be worried about being creepy with how much you’re staring, but something tells you it probably doesn’t matter.

“All done. Do you need anything else Ms. L/n?” He stands before you with his hands crossed in front of him. “No, thank you for cleaning. You can…s-sit down if you’d like? We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other anyways.” He smiles again and you try not to pay attention to how you gulp in response. Soobin swings himself around and sits on the other end of your couch, looking at his hands as he outstretched them curiously.

“So, Soobin. I know you can do house chores, what else can you do?” This is the best small talk you’re able to conjure up at the moment, you’re acutely aware that he’s metal and wires. “Besides house hold chores, I can answer questions — as I’m connected to the internet — I know every language and am fully trained in multiple martial arts. I was programmed to protect you, as well as be a companion. I hope we are able to get along.”

He smiles at you once more, the dimples in his cheeks apparent as he does so. He’s so human it’s uncanny.

“Wow, that’s amazing. I’ve actually been a bit worried about living on my own. Is there anything else you can do?”

“Yes, I’ve also been programmed to know exactly what you are into sexually.” Your eyes basically pop out of your head in response, warmth settles over your skin as you let your imagination run a little too wild in the moment.

“O-oh. Well, uh, I’m going to take a shower, make yourself…at home.”

You scurry off to your bedroom, thoughts absolutely taken over by his words. You were very open with Yoon about what you were into, you’ve been friends for years so it was only natural that the subject was brought up multiple times. And now you have a robot assistant who looks like he was modeled after…well.. a model, and knows how to please you.

You’re going through your clean hamper, as you haven’t put them away yet, when a knock sounds from your door.

“Ms. L/n, since it’s 9:27 in the morning, shall I make breakfast?” His muffled voice still has heat settling over your cheeks as you respond.

“Oh, sure. You can make whatever you want, I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.” To be honest, you couldn’t think of a single breakfast food at that moment. Too much has happened in such a short time, you’re still a little stunned. Soobin hums and agrees and you go back to searching for clothes to wear.

////////////////////

You’re shower was 15 minutes longer than usual, Soobin was on the front of your mind and because of that you were in space for most of it.

The bathrooms warm and foggy atmosphere contrasted the rest of your house, it was cold but not annoyingly stuffy when you creaked the door open. “Ms. L/n breakfast is ready, I have made pancakes and french toast.”

“I don’t remember having frozen pancakes and french toast?” You mumble as you step into the kitchen to ogle the delicious food on your table.

“I made them from scratch, I hope you enjoy them.” He bows before turning around to handle the small mess he created. He made them….from scratch? He even topped it off with a few blueberries on the butter that sat on top of the stack of pancakes. The food looked like it was stolen right from a commercial.

“They look delicious, thank you, Soobin.” You say as you slip into your seat and pluck your fork from the table. “Of course.”

Cutting the pancakes was almost mesmerizing, as they were unbelievably pillowy and soft. The taste was so much better than you imagined as well.

“Soobin, oh my god. These are amazing.”

“Thank you, Ms. L/n. I’m glad you like them.” He smiles, it’s so human like it catches you off guard.

He leaves you to eat and only comes back to take your dirty dishes. Wow, he’s treating you better than all of your ex’s combined, it has your eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

That’s how the remainder of Christmas went, with you being surprised at how nice he was, even if he was AI and programmed that way.

“What do you do at night? Do I need to…uh…plug..you in? Or..?” He didn’t come with any plugs or anything so you’re a little confused if he has to recharge or something. “Oh, no. I sleep as well, it’s obviously not the same as human sleep, but same idea.” You open your mouth in an O shape as you nod.

“Well, goodnight, Soobin.”

“Goodnight, Ms. L/n. Merry Christmas!”

//////////

Sleeping was difficult the first night, knowing he was “sleeping” in your guest bedroom. You tossed and turned for hours before barely being able to slip fully away. Too bad that lasted an hour and now your alarm is blaring. The sigh you let out is almost pathetic as you groggily rise to your feet.

Your apartment is eerily quiet and you momentarily forget what’s missing. That is until the door opens and he walks in, putting down the groceries he bought on the counter.

Rubbing at your eyes you ask, “What are those?”

“I bought ingredients for dinner tonight, as I know what food you look. So, we’re having your favorite italian dish.”

“Oh, wow. Thank you, Soobin. Heh, do you know my social security number too?” You chuckle, “Yes, it is 892-“

“Okay! So glad you know that.” You nervously chuckle.

///////////////

3 Months have passed since you were given Soobin, he’s been unbelievably helpful so you’re grateful Yoon spent the money on him, because you did NOT have that much. Soobin and you have grown closer as well and you can’t remember what it was like without him.

“And I told him to fuck off because he literally tried to get with my sister.” Yoon grumpily exclaims as she tips her back to down another shot. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was, she was also like 17 at the time.” Your mouth falls open in shock as she nods her head drunkly. You yawn and go to rub your eyes, stopping because it took you so long to do your eyeliner earlier. “Hey, I’m gonna call Soobin to get me, do you want a ride home?”

She shakes her head with a smile before saying, “Don’t worry, I have a chauffeur now. Isn’t that so weird?” She giggles. You dig out your phone from your purse that sits on your lap, the dim lights of the club making the screen much brighter than you remembered. Squinting, you try your best to find your home phone number, turning down the brightness is useless because apparently it’s already all the way down. Finally you find the number and press it, it only takes a couple rings before he greets you with the voice you’ve grown very fond of.

“Hello, Ms. L/n. Are you enjoying your night out?” He’s as kind as ever, it brings a sappy smile to your face as you answer. “Yea, thank you. Could you pick me up by any chance? I took Yoon’s car so my car is still at home.” You yell into the phone, it’s so loud you wonder if yelling is even working.

“Yes, of course. I’m leaving right now.”

“Don’t you need the address?” Your eyebrows furrow.

“I always know your location thanks to your phone. I’ll be there in approximately 16 minutes.”

“Thank you.” You hang up and try your best to stay awake, you haven’t gone to a club in a little while and it’s becoming obvious. Even though the bass from the DJ is basically making you vibrate, you still try and fight off sleep.

“Hey, uh, Yoon. I’m gonna wait outside for Soobin.” You lean on your arm as your eyes droop.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the office okay?” She’s even smiley and go lucky when drunk, you seriously envy her.

“Alright, be safe. See ya tomorrow.”

The warmth of having to navigate through grinding bodies has nausea forming in your stomach, it only subsides once you swing open the door. The air feels refreshing as you stumble out. It was like a sauna inside, the cool air against your flushed skin has you shuttering out a breath of relief.

Glancing around you spot a bench to your left and oh does it look inviting. Sitting down, you pluck your phone from your purse to check the time, 13 more minutes. The bouncer on the other side of the door is busy talking, as well as the people in line but it all blurs into each other. God, tomorrow is gonna be a bitch.

Your head hangs low as a breeze flows up your dress, good thing your purse is settled on your lap or else the line of people would have a great view of your underwear. Time is warped in your head and you swear it’s been only a minute before someone is calling your name. Your head raises, higher and higher, until you make eye contact with Soobin. He’s so tall, you love how tall he is. He’s so attractive.

“Ms. L/n. Are you ready to leave?” He holds out a hand for you to take, which you obviously do because walking through the parking lot in this state in these heels would be impossible. “Yes, thank you, Soobin.” Your body can’t help but lean against his figure as you both make your way to your car.

While getting in you giggle to yourself drunkly, slouching over the center console. “Here, Ms. L/n. Let me buckle you in.”

“Y/n.” You smile.

“Excuse me?”

“Call me Y/n. Ms. L/n sounds like my mother.” You giggle once more, more heat spreading over your face if possible. Even more when the hand clicking your seatbelt drifts across your thighs. It confuses you, isn’t he AI? Isn’t he free from making human mistakes? Did he do that on purpose then? Your drunken mind has your memories a little fuzzy but he treats you like a girlfriend, now even down to the teasing touches. You’ll have to ask Yoon about that when you see her next.

“Soobin, can you help the hangover I’m gonna have tomorrow? I have work.” The car purrs to life as he presses the button and puts it in drive. “Of course, Y/n. I’m happy to help.”

The way home was strange, you honestly blame it all on the alcohol. Whenever you peaked over at him you couldn’t help but ogle, even if he was AI, he was unbelievably attractive. How did Yoon know your exact type, sure you talk about your sex and love life with her but she really hit the nail on the head. The way his blonde hair falls almost angelic like over his skin has completely stolen your attention.

The thoughts have your skin warming again and a slight heat being lit in your gut.

“We’re here, do you need me to unbuckle you?” He catches you off guard, you were still mid swoon when he started talking.

“Oh, no I got it. Thank you, Soobin.” He nods before stepping out of your car and circling around to open yours as well. Your legs are a bit wobbly, so when you take a tumble he’s quick to wrap an arm around your waist. You need to sleep, the heat inside you seems to be hotter and it’s really starting to affect you. You seriously just want him to take you right then and there.

“Here, you should eat. I’ll make you something.” He proposes when you’re inside, slumped over a chair. “No, it’s okay. I changed my mind, I just want to go to bed. You should too, goodnight, Soobin.”

“Oh, goodnight, Y/n.”

///////////

Regret. You truly regret dismissing Soobin’s attempts of helping your inevitable hang over. As you sit up in bed your head pounds annoyingly. It’s 6:09 AM, you work at 7:30, hopefully it’s enough time to reduce the pulsing in your skull.

“Good morning, Y/n. Are you feeling okay?” He asks you once you stumble out of bed and into your living quarters. “No, do you know if we have any pain killers?” You question, rubbing your face with your hands soothingly. A hand comes to rub your back as he answers, “I’ll get those right away, are you hungry?” You don’t know how he does it, but you can only concentrate on his hand as it rubs against your clothed back. Even the pounding in your head is an after thought compared to him. You manage to nod your head ‘yes’.

His touch is fleeting and leaves a subtle want in you as he opens up a random cabinet and searches for the medicine.

“Here, let me get you some water.” It’s really not your fault for how you feel, he was made to be specifically your type. The man of your dreams basically. He slides a cup of water your way, “Thank you, Soobin.” Your head tips back as you cram the pills into your mouth and take a swig of the water.

“How about we do something tonight? Just you and me? I really appreciate what you do around here.”

Even for a robot, he pauses, his eyes are wide as he processes your words before nodding. “Of course, I look forward to it.”

/////////////

You’re showered and fed by the time you get to your car, waving to Soobin as if he’s your house wife. You really hate leaving him, his presence has made your home so warm and comfy. Being single isn’t the most fun and he’s really made you miss being in a relationship. That is until you make it to your office and hear his voice. His makes Soobin’s somehow even nicer.

“Morning, Y/n. I heard you and the boss had a fun time last night. Wish you would’ve invited me.”

Sigh.

“Morning to you too, Hyun. Sorry, I didn’t know you would’ve wanted to go.” You swing around to face him, he leans against your door frame with his hands in his pockets.

“Maybe you could make it up to me? Whaddya say? You, me. Dinner tonight?” You were expecting this honestly, Hyun is constantly trying to advance this “relationship” as he calls it. He’s honestly like a mosquito. “Sorry, I can’t. I have plans with my friend.”

He only smiles and nods, “Do I know her?” His question catches you off guard, “Uh no, you don’t…” Sitting down, you turn on your pc and see what pages you have to edit today. But of course, it’s never that easy. “What’s her name?” You hold back the urge to smash your head into your keyboard.

Well, this is gonna be interesting.

“Soobin.”

A beat passes before his annoying laugh is heard, “That’s funny…that..that sounds like a guy’s name..” His laugh stops when you say “It is.”

“Oh, are you dating…?”

Your fists clench at that, “No, now I really need to get started.”

You wish it ended there, but it didn’t, not in your office, not at the printer, not even when you were walking to the bathroom.

Finally it’s time to go home, 5:26 and you’re so ready to do something with Soobin, without Hyun especially. You thankfully didn’t see him on your way out either, which was weird to be honest. He always makes a move on you in the parking lot. Maybe your constant rejection finally got through?

////////////

Driving home was not fun, you swear this one car was following you. They were far enough away that you couldn’t see who was driving, but you know they were following you. Instead of going straight to your house you took a small detour to get them off your ass. Which thankfully worked. The car comes to a halt as you wait for your garage door to open, as soon as you’re inside you close it immediately. Hopefully that creep didn’t spot you.

“Soobin, I’m home.” A beat passes and still no response.

You cock an eyebrow at the silence. Hanging up your jacket on your coat hanger, you find a note on the counter.

Be back soon, getting dinner.

-Soobin

A breath of relief leaves you as you read it. That gives you enough time to change out of your work clothes. The pencil skirt you’re currently wearing might look great but it does not feel like it. Your legs are chafing and you’re pleased Soobin isn’t here to witness you shuffle awkwardly to your bedroom.

Unzipping the skirt snd unhooking your bra had you melting on the spot, even more so when you put on your favorite pair of fuzzy pajama pants and a nice tank top. Taking off your makeup was the cherry on top, you could seriously just throw yourself on your bed and pass out. But you’re way too excited to hang out with Soobin.

Knock Knock

Your head snaps towards the echoing knocking. Soobin has a spare key so it’s not him. Nevertheless, you go to open the door.

“Can I help yo-“ Color drains from your face, why is he here? At your door step? With a bouquet of flowers no less?

“Y/n, I’m glad I found the right house. I wanted to talk to you.” He smiles at you like he didn’t show up on your door step like an abandoned child. “How did you get my address?” Honestly you regret asking, you didn’t want to know.

He laughs before answering, “The only way I could without asking and sounding creepy, I followed you home!”

Your jaw drops, “You..followed me..home..?” You’re sure you’re on an episode of punked or something, this can’t be real.

He nods his head, hand sticking out to pass you the bouquet of tulips and daisies. A moment passes before you hesitantly take them, awkwardly holding them up. “I know you said you had plans tonight, but I really think you shouldn’t hang out with this Soobin guy. After all, you have me and he sounds like a total creep.”

You’ve seriously had enough, you draw the line at him questioning Soobin’s motives and yknow, him following you home.The grip on the frail stems tightens and the stinging pain of thorns is second in line to the steam coming out of your ears.

“Okay, I’ve had enough. We are not friends, you are a major creep. You followed me home yet have the audacity to point fingers at Soobin. You’ll never even be half the man he is, now get off of my porch and don’t even think of even looking in my direction again.” Your teeth are sore after your word vomit from being clenched so tightly.

He’s expressionless until his eyebrows furrow, an almost confused look settles on his face. “I’m not sure you understand, you and me are meant to be. Soobin brainwashed you or something to think of me like this, I didn’t think it was this bad. Come here.” He goes to grip your free hand, his sweaty palm has a shiver of disgust ring through you.

“No, don’t touch me. Fuck off.” The flowers fall to the ground as you try to pry his greasy fingers from your skin. The sound of something closing is lost on your ears as blood rushes by them from the sudden adrenaline.

“I’m trying to help you , Y/n. I know you love me.”

Tears prick your eyes , you’re totally overwhelmed and starting to panic.

“Excuse me, can I help you?” That voice didn’t come from the man desperately trying to kidnap you, it was from him.

“Soobin, please help. He won’t let go.” Relief floods your system and your knees almost give out when he steps forward. “Let go of her.” His voice shocks you, it’s stern and low, you try to not think about how hot he sounds.

“Oh, you’re Soobin? You’re the one corrupting my love.” Hyun let’s go to turn around fully, trying his best to look intimidating. It’s not working, Soobin is a solid foot taller than him. Hyun doesn’t seem to be aware of it though as he goes to poke a crude finger into the hard chest of your friend.

Soobin remains calm and it shocks you, AI or not, Hyun is unbelievably annoying.

“Do I need to help you leave? Or can you do it by yourself?” Soobin steps closer, a gulp sounds from Hyun and you have to stifle a giggle.

“This isn’t over, Y/n is mine.” He says before scurrying off to his car.

“Soobin, oh my god. Thank you.” You breath out a shuddered sigh as you basically fall into his embrace. “Hey, it’s okay. He’s gone, let’s go inside and eat while dinner is hot, Angel.”

You nod your head before pausing, what did he just call you? Better question, should you change your underwear? Because oh my god, that was hot. Angel is a special name for you, almost all of your ex’s called you that in bed. Hearing it leave Soobin’s mouth has something stirring inside.

“Uh, okay…” You swallow.

The house feels so much nicer when Soobin is home, so much more lively.

“What movie should we watch?” He asks, removing the takeout from the plastic bags. While thinking, your eyes drift down to his hands and notice how his veins protrude every time he grabs something, you follow one until it disappears under his skin.

“Y/n, are you okay? Did he hurt you at all?” Your friend asks concerned.

“Huh? Sorry, I’m fine, thank you. Do you wanna watch the first Harry Potter movie?”

“Absolutely, I love that movie. Here, take this. This is your fried rice, this is your egg drop soup, these are your crab rangoons, and this is your chow mein.” The food is hot in your arms, almost too hot, as you both walk towards your couch. You happily set the food on your coffee table.

////////////////////

Harry Potter was captivating for the first 30 minutes, then Soobin became a little more interesting.

“Are you serious? I had no idea.” Your stunned face has him throwing back his head in laughter.

“Yea, it’s true. Maybe try using google?” He teases.

“Oh shut up…” You push his shoulder, something catches your attention as you do so. His eyes. You’ve never been so close to really study his eyes before. To test out your theory you put a hand on his shoulder, his eyes change into a darker brown with a tinge of red. Like a chocolate covered strawberry almost.

“I didn’t know your eyes changed color?”

“They’re mood changing, do you like them?” He smiles at you.

“I really do, they’re kind of red right now, what does that mean?” You lean in and pull down his lower eyelid to get a better look.

“Heh, it happens when you touch me” Your eyes go wide, hearing that makes you aware of how close you are and how your hand is still on his face. Harry Potter is only a sound in the background as Soobin grabs the hand touching face, and holds it.

The feelings you’ve been holding in feels like water boiling over the sides of a pot. The way he holds your hand, his gaze of red that’s becoming more apparent the more you look at one another. “Soobin…” Your voice is breathy and you’re not exactly sure why you said his name, it just felt right.

“Angel..” He replies, leaning closer. The name once again does something to you. Your heart might beat out of your chest if you’re not careful. You peak at his lips once more, the natural pout he has is calling you and you can’t take it anymore. Meeting him halfway, your lips shyly meet. It feels amazing though, you’ve been wondering what it’d be like to kiss him for so long now.

The kiss deepens as you both gain confidence, his free hand comes to settle on your waist.

The need for air stings eventually, it pains you more to pull away but you must. It only lasts for a second as you briefly make heated eye contact again, your lips slam together in a lust filled kiss. It’s messy and has the hand on your waist tightening it’s hold and pulling you even closer into him. Your own free hand makes it to his cheek.

His tongue makes its way into your mouth, this is so unlike the first kiss you shared. He was hesitant but now it’s completely different. The heat in the air is getting to you as you let out a whine.

“Soobin, I need you, please.” Your voice is pathetic as you beg for him to do something.

“I didn’t know you’d be so needy so fast…Angel.” The name has your heart skipping a beat and your thighs itching to rub together, Soobin smirks at your reaction. The hand holding your own gently lets go in favor of pushing you back against the couch. Your shirt has ridden a bit at the bottom, the cold-ish polyester against your exposed lower back has you jolting a little.

“You think I didn’t notice how you reacted to that name? Angel, you’re so cute, y’know that?” He hovers over you, leaning down to messily kiss down your neck, a hand moves from next to you to up the sides of your shirt.

The want you’ve been hiding has you already clenching around nothing as he rests his weight on you, now you’re able to feel how mouthwateringly hard he is. Which honestly confuses you, but he was also made for this so you don’t question it too much. You’re not sure you’re even able to right now, the way his hands feel on your skin, as well as how he’s working your collarbone like it owes him money.

Times like this you’re glad you don’t live in an apartment, the desperate noises he’s already pulling out of you would be tricky with such close neighbors.

“Can I take off your shirt?” He sweetly questions, tearing away from your skin to look you in the eyes. His eyes are a deeper wine colored red you take note as you nod your head. Soobin dips back in to kiss you again before removing the offending clothing.

In pure desperation, you raise his own shirt enough to feel his skin on yours. It’s addicting and you don’t stop raising his shirt until he gets the memo and grabs the back of it, pulling it over his head. The sight has you practically drooling. He’s toned, not too muscly, but just enough that it catches your attention.

“This is so cute on you.” He breathes out, tugging lightly on your bra before continuing, “But I really need to take it off.” You nod and clench when his hands warmly drift up your back to the clasp.

Your nipples instantly harden at the cool air and especially how he’s looking at you. His gaze lowers to your chest and eyes your nipples stiffening, without a second thought he latches on to one and sucks. His tongue occasionally flicks over it and it has your back arching, breathy whines leave your mouth as one of your hands ends up gripping the strands of hair at the back of his head.

“Soobin, please.”

“You sound so pretty for me. What do you need Angel?” He asks, an inch above your wet chest.

“I need to feel you, I’ve been waiting so long for this.”

That causes him to smirk, “You’ve been thinking about me? About us?”

You nod, heated cheeks on display. “How could I deny you, Angel.” He says before unbuttoning your jeans, he slips the zipper down and shuffles them off your legs. Now it’s time for him to undo his belt and nothing could break your attention away. The outline of him is obvious as he works his belt and pants.

“Ready?” He questions as he grips himself.

You nod as a finger slips up and down your slit, it has your hips bucking into his hand. He adds another and is thoroughly enjoying how wet you are for him. His fingers settle on your ever-growing clit and wow, your imagination does not compare to the actual thing.

He scoops some of your slick up and spreads it along his shaft, a couple veins shine because of it and it almost has you coming already. “Soobin.” You whine impatiently, a light chuckle leaves him as he guides himself to your entrance. One last glance is shared between you two before he pushes in, the initial sting has your fingers gripping the fabric under you, while a gasp leaves you both.

It’s a delicious feeling really, the fullness of him mixed with the pure intimacy of it all. He bottoms out and waits for you to adjust to him, “Y-you can move.” You’re already out of breath, the wind being knocked out of you when he simply pushed in.

For the first few thrusts Soobin is relatively quiet, it isn’t until he sets a good pace that the sounds rip out of him. “Fuck, you’re so good for me, Y/n. I knew you’d be.” His hands grip your hips to stop you from scooting upward every time he thrusts, the grip tightens every time you clench around him as well.

“From the second I saw you, I wanted to have you like this. God, you feel amazing. So tight and wet for me, you’re perfect.” The praise hurtles you closer and closer to finishing around him.

He breaths out and pushes himself to sit on his knees, your legs are thrown over his shoulders messily as he picks up his pace. The sound of skin hitting skin and your own whiney moans mixed with his gruff and gravely ones fills the room. Soobin takes it a step further and grinds hotly into you a few times. Pleasure fizzles in your abdomen and you know you don’t have long.

The way his hair sticks to his forehead, and how his skin is damp is a sight you’ve been waiting for. How gone he looks as he plunges himself inside you, deeper and deeper. You probably look pretty fucked out yourself, knowing you. His sneaky fingers trail down to your clit and his thumb doesn’t let up, even when you start spasming a bit.

“Soobin I’m so close.” Your face nuzzles into your arm as the growing feeling is close to exploding.

“Look at me.” You can’t hear him very well thanks to the blood rushing behind your ears so he takes it upon himself. His pointer finger and thumb grip your chin to move your head accordingly, his eyes meet yours again and the band snaps within you. Hips buck into his and your back arches, your eyes clamp shut as the euphoric feeling spreads from your pelvis to your limbs and abdomen.

He keeps going until he can’t anymore and stills. Loud groans are heard as he finishes in you and you hope you never forget how he sounds.

“Don’t worry, you can’t get pregnant from me.” He huffs out, which causes a laugh to leave you at the timing of his words.

/////////////////////

“Hey, Soob. My work is having a ‘bring your partner to work’ day today. I keep forgetting to ask you about it, do you wanna go? I’d like having you there.” You grip his arm in a hug as you ask.

“Sounds fun, I’d love being there with you. I’ll get dressed.” He smiles, giving you a sweet kiss before he departs.

The ride there was nice, Soobin just naturally relaxes you. Usually going to work sucks but he makes it better.

“Ok, here we are. I’m on the 6th floor.” You shut your door as does he.

“Wow and here I thought you were the CEO.” He jokes , taking your free hand in his. You side eye him with a joking glare. “Keep it up and I’ll make you take the stairs.”

Walking onto your floor was interesting, couples littered the desks and it was odd to see. Usually your floor is quiet and honestly…boring. The atmosphere was less gray and you liked it.

“Wow is this your office?” Soobin eyes the room with wide eyes.

“Yeah, do you like it? I think it represents me pretty well.” You grip a seat and drag it over to your chair before patting it. He obliges and sits down, peering at your computer screen as you turn it on and already get to clicking stuff.

“I will be right back, I have to get what I printed. I don’t like constantly staring at a screen so I print out my work, so wait here, k?” He nods and leans on your desk. You take a moment to admire his outfit , mainly his hair. It sits dreamily infront of his eyes, sometimes you honestly wonder how he’s able to see.

The printer soon comes into view and you can spot your paper on it as well. The second it’s in your hands you spin your heels and book it, not fast enough apparently.

“Y/n, wait up, let me walk with you.”

There’s no way. You’re hearing things. Turning your head around, you peak over your shoulder to incredulously gaze at Hyun, a soft slimy smile on his face.

“Can I help you?” You don’t stop walking, he unfortunately catches up to you though.

“Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to go to dinner tonight. Couples day has me in the mood for some…company. Ever since my girlfriend left me 5 years ago, y’know? And I think we’re the only ones here without a partner, so it’s a match made in hea-“ You finally enter your office and see Soobin wiggling a pencil in the air, that paired with Hyun’s reaction to Soobin even being there has a fierce giggle threatening to spill out.

“What’s he doing here? This is partners day.”

You sit down next to Soobin and he possessively reaches out for your hand, never breaking his glare towards the intruder.

“Well, Hyun, if you must know, he’s my boyfriend.” Your unimpressed stare doesn’t falter as he processes this information.

“You can leave now.” Soobin deadpans, getting up to shut the door. Hyun doesn’t get a word in before your boyfriend shuts the door in his face. You both share a look before he comes to sit down, patting your back soothingly.

You really thought it ended there because he didn’t bother you for the rest of the day.

That night when you’re perched on Soobin’s lap, lustful kisses being pressed onto the skin of your neck, is when you unexpectedly get a phone call. You’re literally humping his bulge when it happens. “Who is it?” He asks, feeling you up regardless.

Peering over his shoulder, “Mm, just a random number. Should I answer it?” You smile flirtatiously at him. He catches on and leans back to grab the phone, giving you a wink before you press accept.

“Hello?” It takes your boyfriend a millisecond to get back to his antics, but this time his hands are on your ass, guiding your movements over him. His eyes tinge pink before settling for the usual red they usually are during certain escapades.

“Is this Y/n? It’s me Hyun.” Soobin halts, you both stare at each other in shock. His eyebrows furrow, he goes back to what he was doing, now, with a purpose and you can definitely feel the difference. The wine red of his eyes change once more, this time a deep purple.

He nips at your neck and it’s starting to become difficult to speak coherently.

“H-how did you get my number?” His hands knead your ass and the button of his jeans hits your clit, you try to cough away the gasp that escapes you but you’re sure it didn’t help.

“I got it from the office’s-“ You don’t hear the rest because Soobin has decided to turn around and drop you on your bed. You giggle at the way you bounce before remembering you’re on the phone, you laugh out a “sorry, what?” before remembering who you’re talking to.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” The more Hyun presses the more clothes you lose. Your boyfriend pops open your pant’s button and fly before tearing down the pants from your legs, your shirt next.

“Y-yea I’m fine. Is there something you need, Hyun?”

You thankfully weren’t wearing a bra, Soobin seems very grateful. His bites and sucks has your underwear dampening even more and an insatiable need falling over you. Hyun says something but you can’t make it out. The man on top of you takes the hand holding your phone and sets it on your comforter, plucking the device from your grip and throwing it into your pillows.

“Got you all to myself now. God, you’re so wet.” He slips off your ruined underwear and slides a few fingers up and down your wetness, getting them ready for you.

The first breach of his middle finger is satisfying, but not as much as his cock. You’ll get that eventually though.

It doesn’t take long for him to have added another and to slam them into you. His fingers are long and slender, they have your thighs clamping together. Which Soobin is having none of, his free hand forces your legs apart and your clit throbs from the feeling.

“Soobin, please fuck me. Need you so bad.” Your hands settle on his lower abdomen, slightly scratching the skin. “I love when you beg for me, love when you beg for me to fuck this tiny little cunt.” Your lower lip trembles at his words and you mentally prepare yourself. Soobin isn’t usually this dirty, but you’re not complaining.

The man teases your slit, sticking in his tip and hissing when your walls beg him to keep going. But he pulls out in favor of swirling his head around your, now, wet clit. “You love this don’t you, baby?” He huffs out. Before you’re able to answer, he pushes in, you throw your head back and enjoy the feeling of his veins and ridges gliding along your gummy walls so perfectly.

“There you go, baby, you like it when I fill this cute cunt up with my cock?” Nodding and whining wasn’t cutting it this time.

“Use your words.”

“Y-yes, I love it.” Your hands reach for his shoulders, trying to stay coherent for a little longer.

“I know, baby, I know.”

His thrusts pick up momentum and soon his hips are smacking into you. “You’re mine, aren’t you, baby? All mine, no on else’s.” His pelvic bone grazes your clit and you’re finding it hard to speak. All that comes out is babbling and needy whines and moans, “That good? Am I fucking you that good?” You nod furiously, hoping he’ll take that as an answer.

Just like the first time you had sex, he takes your legs into his hands. But this time he presses them to your chest and groans at the sight of you so exposed for him. The way your cunt takes him so effortlessly does things to him.

Soon, he notices the way you clench, and how your breathing becomes quicker. Suddenly, a moan that does not belong to either of you echos. His eyebrows furrow but when he makes eye contact with your pillows he understands. He tries not to stop his pace too much as he leans forward to rummage for your phone.

His lips curl in a devious smirk when he sees the call is still going.

“You enjoying this, Hyun? How I fuck my girl? Do you wish you were here instead of me? Getting to see and feel how fucking wet she is, how tight her little cunt is? What it looks like when she’s full of cum? Call her one more time and I promise you it’s not going to end well.” The only thing that’s heard is a gasp and a choked moan before Soobin hangs up. He exhales before he grips your thighs and jackhammers his hips into you.

“Coming, fuck, I’m coming.” You practically yell, legs shaking as you release all over his cock. The added wetness and the way there’s a white ring forming around his base pushes him over the edge, he spills inside you, hips stuttering to an end.

“Hopefully that helps get him off your back, but I’m happy to do this again if it doesn’t.” He smiles, leaning in to capture your lips.

“You okay?” He questions, pulling out, wiping his forehead with his forearm as well.

“Yea, I am. I love you, Soob.”

The sentiment and the nickname has his dark brown eyes swirl with light pink. “I love you too.”

———————————————————

TAGLIST : @tyunlovie @kyrkitten @rencarnationofangel @jimin2014 @starstruckluminarytale @soobsfairy444 @fathersoneric @ethie @rlvslouis @gyulz @woniebae @rjsmochii @wtfjongseong @boba-beom @mybabywearschanel @chiefturtlebonkghost @bergandysam @qluvrv @genshinsoobs @bucketofhiros @dilfjohhny @meikoo

if i didn’t tag you it’s bc tumblr couldn’t find your blog!!

#txt smut #txt x reader #soobin smut #soobin x reader #txt x you #txt x y/n #txt fanfic #kpop smut #kpop x you #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #soobin x you #soobin x fanfic

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simpforrooster · 1 year ago

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falling for a girl in purple & gold.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x F!Reader

summary: your brother convinces you to join him at his tailgate. you meet a gorgeous blonde, who happens to root for the opposing football team.

t/w: lots of mention of alcohol. she/her pronouns. cursing. instalovey.

a/n: i’ve been dying to write something like this. this fic is def based off megan maroney’s ‘tennessee orange’ and conner smith’s ‘orange & white.’ i left readers school pretty ambiguous until the verrrrrry end. i’m an lsu girlie 💜💛 so i needed a little self-service.

Stepping into the tailgate tent, nostalgia fills your body. You are transported immediately back to your time in college. Cheering on your alma mater with your sorority sisters. Hooking up with those random frat guys who definitely showed you a good time. You’d have to remember to thank your brother for making you come.

“Sis!” Speak of the devil. Your brother envelops you into a huge bear hug, as if he didn’t see you one week prior at your family’s standing dinner date. You return his hug.

“I am so glad you made it!”

Your brother began introducing you to several of his friends who were taking up space in the tailgate tent. If he doesn’t know them from his fraternity days, then he knows them from the Navy.

“Two more guys are planning to show,” your brother says. “Guys from my time in Miramar.” You understand this to mean from his time at TOPGUN.

Lucky for you, you’ve been schooled in all things naval aviation thanks to the burly guy you call a brother. There was no way he was going to have a sister have zero knowledge about the Navy.

His words, not yours.

Leaving you to ponder, your brother begins mixing drinks. He hands you his “special” after a few minutes. His special being vodka, with a tiny splash of sprite and cranberry juice.

You take the drink from him, raising your brows.

“It’s the first tailgate of the year, sis. Go big or go home.”

You’d much rather go home than consume a ton of alcohol in this heat.

“Well if it ain’t Bozo!” you hear a deep voice call, with a sliiiiight country accent.

“Hey guys!” your brother calls with the enthusiasm of a kid who just unwrapped a PS5 from under the tree. “I’m glad y’all made it.”

You turn and take in the source of that accent, and almost spill your drink. Your brother never told you he was friends with Adonis.

His blonde hair fans out at his neck, beneath a nice Stetson, like he’s skipped a few haircuts. A pair of jeans hug his hips, and across his chest, the school colors of the enemy.

University of Texas. You were sure that burnt orange wouldn’t look good on anyone, but this man is proving that notion wrong. Your eyes lock with his, and he makes sure you see his eyes trail down your body.

When those green eyes meet yours, he drops his right eye in a slow wink.

“Bozo, I didn’t know you colluded with the enemy,” you say to your brother, nodding toward the handsome blonde.

“Ah, well,” Bozo starts, rubbing his hand behind his neck, “not everyone is perfect.”

“What do they call you?” you ask the blonde, not being able to take not knowing his name any longer.

“Hangman.” He fixes you with a gorgeous smirk, and tips that cowboy hat.

“Hangman?” you question, cocking an eye brow.

Those eyes peer into yours. “Yes ma’am.” The way he says those two words has you thinking of all the instances he could say them in.

“What do they call you when you’re not flying a plane?”

“Jake. And your name, pretty lady?”

“Y/n.” You stick a hand out toward him. Jake reaches forward, taking your hand lightly into yours. The two of you stand there, shaking hands for what feels like an eternity. Neither one of you wanting to break the contact.

“Fuck, Bozo. You never mentioned how beautiful your sister is,” Jake says to your brother, but never taking his eyes off you.

“Because you’re a fucking playboy, Bagman,” he says.

“Funny,” Jake comments.

And you’d gladly let him.

“A playboy, huh?” You quip.

Jake shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe I just haven’t met the right lady yet.”

The way he peers into your eyes has you sipping your mixed drink in order to hold some of your sanity. This man has the potential to ruin you.

And you’d gladly welcome it.

Grabbing his hand, you pull him toward the beer pong table. “Be my partner.” You fix him with one of your award winning smiles.

“Anything for you, darlin’,” he drawls. Gah, that accent is gonna be the death of you. The two of you fall into a steady rhythm, beating your brother and another aviator, Rooster, effortlessly.

Jake holds up his hand for a high five. When your hand meets his, his fingers lace between yours. He pulls you into him. You can’t be sure if the vodka is making you lightheaded, or the way your body feels pressed against his.

“I’m having the time of my life with you, sweet thing,” he says into your ear. You giggle into his chest. You actually giggle. You’ve never giggled in your life.

“What would you say if I needed to kiss you?” Jake asks against your temple. Spying your brother working the makeshift bar, you grab Jake’s hand. You lead Jake down an alley situated between two class buildings.

“I’d say, kiss me, Hangman,” you say, grabbing his ugly, orange jersey to pull him toward you. One of his hands braces his weight against the wall, just outside your shoulder. He has you completely caged in, that strong body hovering over yours. Jake reaches up to pull his hat from his head. He casually holds the hat up, blocking anyone from seeing the two of you.

Between Jake’s kisses and your brother’s mixed drink, you’re feeling all kinds of good. Not wanting any of it to stop, you grip his jersey tighter, pulling him as close as you can get him.

A low groan escapes his mouth, and the fact that he’s seemingly affected by you the same way you are by him has you reeling.

“A gentleman would at least take you out first before kissing you like this,” he murmurs.

“Oh yeah?” you question, not really letting his words soak in.

“Mhmm. Too bad I am not feeling too gentlemanly, right now.” Jake deepens the kiss, and your hands leave his jersey and thread through his hair.

“Good,” you breathe.

Your watch buzzes, pulling you from Jake’s tantalizing kisses. Taking a peek, your brother’s name appears across it.

Where the fuck are you? We have to go into the stadium.

Jake pulls his phone from his back pocket. “Bozo,” he murmurs.

“Where are your seats?” You ask, still breathless from his kissing.

“Next to you,” he says, placing once more kiss to your lips. Pulling you from the wall, he plops his hat onto your head.

“Fuck, my dads going to be so pissed I’m falling for a girl in purple & gold,” Jake says shaking his head. “Lead the way, darlin’.”

masterlist.

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun maverick fic #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin #jake hangman x reader #hangman top gun #hangman x you #hangman oneshot #hangman x oc #hangman x reader #hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin

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devil-in-hiding · 3 months ago

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The gang taking a trip to the beach post rumbling, a day of just bonding and spending time with each other with all the ambassador things happening.

Jean, Levi and Annie watching the others race across the sand, Armin occasionally running up to show Annie a shell he found, and Jean can’t help the sour feeling of jealousy in his stomach before he lets his eyes roam.

Connie and Pieck are trying their best to get Gabi to at least t r y getting in the water, splashing at her as she squeals from the shore as Falco sneaks up behind her

there’s a blonde missing.

Jean raises a brow, scanning the sand before he finally catches sight of Reiner a ways down, on his hands and knees, digging through the sand.

“Annie, what the hell is he doing?” Jean asks, confused and she glances over.

“Probably looking for rocks. He did that all the time when we were kids.”

20 minutes pass and Jean is on his own, Connie having literally dragged Levi to the shore so he could sit in the sand, but from the small castle Jean can see forming besides his former Captain, he knows he’s happy to be there.

A victory yell catches his attention, and he looks over just in time to see Reiner running towards him, kicking up sand.

He’s obviously sunburnt, covered in sand and his hair is sticking up at crazy angles, but Jean forgets all of that when the blonde drops to his knees beside him, holding up a rock to Jean’s face.

“Reiner? What the hell are you-“

“I found a rock that matches your eyes! Look!” Reiner gushes, pushing the rock into Jean’s hand, who has turned to stone, heart slamming in his chest.

“My.. my eyes?”

“Yeah! I found some over there but they didn’t have little green and gold flecks like this one does, and it looks almost like melted chocolate in the right light!”

#reijean #reiner x jean #reiner braun #jean kirstein #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #Jean has never been romanced so quickly

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outofmydepthatapublicbeach · 9 months ago

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hiii can u write julien x reader where julien has a crush on reader? like maybe reader is maybe a singer at the grammys and catches juliens eye

pls pls and thank u

jj chats: hiii!! i love this idea so so much and i am so happy i got to write it!!! i decided to do some headcannons and a bit of a blurb! but its mostly tailored to this specific scenario so if anyone wants a more general julien with a crush headcannons i can totally write that! just lmk!! also tysm for the request dear ilysm <333

warnings: RPF, no use of y/n, julien is very awkward!!!

feedback is encouraged and i'd love to get some just please be kind!!!

So lets say that Julien is aware of who you are, she knows your music, but never knew your face. She was crazy excited about you performing at the grammys.

She’s at the table when your name gets announced along with the 2 tracks you are playing and she immediately recognizes them.

She gets all giddy because she’s never seen you before and is excited for your set.

You play a mash up of two ballads where your vocals are incredible, your standing center stage. (I’m kind of picturing it to look like Olivia Rodgrigo’s set at the grammys)

Whatever outfit you’re wearing is a beautiful mix of emerald green and gold. Your dress/suit/whatever you are wearing has a very flowy vibe to it.

Anyway Julien sees you as the spotlight shines on you and her heart stops. You were more beautiful than she had ever thought.

Then you open your mouth to sing and it's like a kaleidoscope of butterflies was released in her stomach.

Phoebe notices her awestruck state and whispers to Lucy.

Yk they made a plan to make sure you met that night.

When your performance ends you smile towards the crowd of brilliant musicians, lyricists and producers. The room erupts in cheers and applause, your head gets a little light as you take everything in. Everything that you’ve worked for has come to this, and you’ve finally made it, singing in a room full of all your biggest idols.

When the stage darkens, a crew member meets you and takes you back to a dressing room, helping you get back into your original grammy outfit. As you walk back to your seat you spot a woman with platinum blond hair in a white suit standing near your table, seemingly waiting for someone.

As you approach her you get a better look at who she was. Exclaiming “Phoebe!! I’m so glad to see you!” You pull her into a hug.

Pulling away, Phoebe replies “Hey dude! It’s been so long!”

“Way too long! Oh congrats on you and the boys wins tonight! I’m so happy for y’all!” You smile, then noticing the other two that make up Boygenius approach, Lucy Dacus and Julien Baker. Lucy introduces herself and Julien, Julien stands squashed between Lucy and Phoebe. She smiles at you shyly, a light pink flushes her face.

“Your performance was out of this world, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sing like that! Isn’t that right Julien?” Phoebe asks, nudging her bandmate with her elbow.

Julien sputters a little bit before replying “Your voice is so pretty.” Once the words leave her mouth her eyes widen a bit, as if she can’t believe she just said that. Phoebe and Lucy share a look before Phoebe moves to squeeze your upper arm.

“Me and Luce are gonna go mingle, have fun kids,” She turns away from you but you can almost swear you saw her wink at Julien before walking away.

“I don’t think I’ve never formally introduced myself, I’m-”

“I know you,” Julien cuts you off, horror fills her face at her ill choice of words, “I mean I don’t know-know you, but I know of you! I like you! Fuck I mean I like your music, its really good! And your voice is amazing. It's so pretty! I’m rambling aren’t I?” The tattooed woman sighs, her face flushing again, this time a much brighter red.

“Yes, yes you are. But it's okay Julien, it's cute.” You giggle, reaching towards your purse to pull out your phone, pulling up messages. “Can I have your number, I’d love to talk to you longer but I gotta go visit someone before we have to be back in out seats. Maybe we could get coffee sometime and talk?” You hand the phone to Julien, gently placing it in her open palms.

“Really?” she waits for you to nod before putting her number in, hands shaking as she types. “Thank you! And best of luck to you tonight! Hopefully I’ll see you around.” Julien says. You smile and grab Julien’s hand, squeezing it lightly. Once you let go she's off towards her table again.

I could totally see Julien being so nervous around you that she types in her number wrong. So wehn you get home and call her and some random 39 year old guy from Alabama replies you are taken a little off guard.

But it's all fixed when you text Phoebe explaining the situation.

Phoebe def made fun of Julien for that all the time now.

#julien baker x reader #julien baker fanfic #boygenius x reader #julien baker fluff #grammys 2024 #lesbians #wlw #sapphic #lgbtq #julien baker x singer!reader #singer!reader #boygenius au

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abbyunderground · 20 days ago

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Rescue bots Aus 😋(except it’s based around Cody cause he’s more important)

OKAY #1

Percy Jackson AU 😎

I mentally created this au around the time reread the PJO books bc I love Percy Jackson and I thought it could be a cool way to explain why Cody is so “different” from his siblings. I personally think Cody’s godly parent would be his mom (lowkey kinda obvious bc he doesn’t have a mom in the show) BUT ANYWAY! I think his godly mother/parent whatever would be Athena cause it’s mentioned in the books that her kids are kinda all blonde with gray eyes and Cody is blonde, also Chief and Graham have the same hair color (chiefs hair is shown in a picture of Dani when she was little, I don’t remember what episode). Kade is ginger which is a recessive gene, and I think Dani got her hair from their mom or she’s dyes her hair. Anyway it could also explain Cody’s age gap with his siblings since Athena just kinda picks someone and poofs a kid out of her head and is like “Here! Have it! Raise this kid just so it can die before 25!” (Real good parenting Athena 🙄😒) but I think Cody’s mythical weapon thing would be like a dagger that can extend into a sword, that or he’d probably mesh a mythical weapon with some tech. That’s basically it, I don’t have like a plot or anything 😭 i just like rb and PJO

#2‼️‼️

Magic powers AU

He’s basically god 😭 basically it’s like this shimmery gold looking glitter mist and he can like, control it?? He can like destroy anything and it just crumbles into the mist/can create anything from it, and I mean ANYTHING. Bro can quite literally create fully functional human beings from nothing for fun. That’s basically it, I honestly have this power thing in most of the AUs if I get bored

#3/the last major one 😙

Deadly weapon Au

OKAY I ACTUALLY HAVE LIKE A PLOT AND A MAIN STORY FOR THIS ONE

Basically Cody’s mom (and his siblings mom but that irrelevant) was like raised as a assassin and she was super cool and stuff and people called her Medusa (not rlly relevant but I think it’s Skibidi 😎 also Cody would be called Chrysaor, which is the son of Medusa and Poseidon if ykyk ) ANYWAY she gets in a fight or smth with her dad idk and leaves their like league of asssains (did I mention this is kinda inspired by Damien Wayne? No? Okay well it is) shes in her like 20s and already has 1 kid (half sibling) and he’s like 3yrs old and getting trained to be a assassin (also the moms name is Maria) so Maria doesn’t gaf and runaway to griffin rock and meets Chief burns and they have kids or whatever (she like froze some of her eggs so while she was gone the league made her more kids idk) anyway so a few years pass and she has Cody yadda yadda yadda, she almost dies while giving birth but the league has been stalking her so they kidnapped her and Cody from the hospital and save her and they raise Cody as a assassin, and Maria is the president of the league or whatever, also her other kids are chill with her just abandoning them?? But Cody is like super cool and a weapon of mass destruction, he’s like Batman mixed with Jinx so 🤷‍♀️ he’s also emo teenager angry all the time. And obviously they can’t just disappear without a trace because OBVIOUSLY everyone needs to be soooo overdramatic 🙄 so maria and her 4 kids (including Cody) are famous and they’re like models and movie actors and business ppl idk kinda like Bruce Wayne and his posse of children. I like to think griffin rock is isolated from everyone else (maybe not on purpose, but shits crazy there so idk) so Chief doesn’t realize that his wife and missing child are famous and constantly getting followed by paparazzi 🤦‍♀️. That’s mainly it for this one, I might have forgotten some stuff but feel free to ask questions 😋😋

@oldeubagel

@ashlovesrescuebots

#cody burns #dani burns #frankie greene #graham burns #kade burns #rescue bots #transformers rescue bots #chief burns #also a Spider-Man Au but I’ll prob add that later or make another post

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satansapostle6 · 11 months ago

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Kids | Rodrick Heffley

Spotify Playlist Link

Rodrick Heffley becomes obsessed when he finally meets his thirty-five year old band mate, Bill Walter’s, younger sister.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Drug use. Sexual content. Violence.

“The Family Legacy”

“The Date”

On Saturday, the day Löded Diper was playing at a backyard party, Rodrick felt Bill and Sara couldn’t show up soon enough.

“Fuck, they’ll already be ten minutes early,” he muttered to himself as Chris and Ben helped the roadies load equipment into the van.

Rodrick was dressed for the performance of his life, as well as the band’s gig at the party. He waited anxiously for Bill and his younger sister, praying Sara would be impressed by him once she showed up. But when she did show up, he realized it was him that should be impressed.

Sara was truly a vision; the ultimate rock star affiliate you’d find lounging around in an exclusive green room somewhere. Although she only wore a pair of Joe’s Jeans and a black vest top with nothing under it, to him, she might as well have been covered in gold and platinum. She shone, in a way that wasn’t necessarily visible to the eye.

She was just that cool, with her shoulder length blonde hair, and tiny purse that only held a wallet, cigarettes, and lighted.

“Hey,” Sara said softly, hand on her purse string as she stood next to Rodrick.

“Hey,” a small, nervous laugh escaped as he watched Bill join the other boys in loading equipment. “You look… really good.”

“So do you,” she smiled, appreciating the pocket chain and South Pole shirt with a nod. “Are you wearing eyeliner?”

“Uh… Yeah,” Rodrick blurted out honestly, hoping that was the right call.

“I like it,” she beamed, making him blush.

“Haha!” he exclaimed excitedly, cursing himself in his head. “So, everything’s pretty much good to go. You wanna ride with us?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sara nodded, as he leaned in playfully.

“I volunteered to drive on the way there, just so you can sit up front with me and not get crushed to death by a drum,” he murmured.

“Sounds like a plan,” she nodded. “Who’s DD?” she wondered.

“Chris is. He’s the only DD that can ever stay the DD,” Rodrick explained, not even looking away from her as Ben tossed him the keys to the van.

“Alright, let’s rock and roll!” Bill shouted.

He looked extra proud of himself as he kept his eyes on Sara. The two of them hopped into the van, as Bill and the other guys all filled into the back with everything.

“So, how do you feel about being Löded Diper’s hottest groupie?” Rodrick asked with a goofy grin.

“I’m not a groupie,” Sara crossed her arms in amusement as she sat beside him.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Rodrick leaned forward, his face barely an inch from hers, “For tonight… whatever you say goes,” he said breathily.

“Oh, I like that,” she remarked.

It didn’t take long once they arrived at the party for her to begin attracting unwanted attention, just as Rodrick had feared. He was truthfully worried that, while he was onstage, someone would steal Sara’s attention away from him for the rest of the night. But luckily, she certainly didn’t seem willing to give anyone but Rodrick her attention.

“You guys can set up over here,” Andy, the guy whose party it was, showed the boys. “And you can come set up over here,” he grinned as she tried to walk past him.

“Sorry, not interested,” Sara said sweetly.

Andy just frowned in response, still looking at Sara like he wasn’t quite ready to let her go yet. Rodrick made a beeline over to her, almost panting as he threw his arm over her, lifting up his sunglasses.

“Sorry, man. She’s with the band,” he grinned, as Sara turned to smile at him as the guy finally left.

Not knowing how to keep with the momentum of the sweet moment, Rodrick nervously left a soft peck on her cheek, not sure what was appropriate.

“I’ll do you one better.”

Appreciating the gesture, Sara pulled him in with her arm across his back, kissing him right on the lips as everyone around them went about their business. Despite being at a crowded backyard party, it was practically a private moment.

“That works too,” Rodrick murmured, somewhat stunned. “Wait. Can it work again?” he smiled hopefully, not even expecting a kiss anytime soon.

“I don’t know,” she murmured, chuckling as he pulled her back in, one hand on her back and one hand on her cheek as he kissed her.

“Oh. What do you know? I’m a genius,” he announced triumphantly.

“I think this date is going swimmingly so far,” Sara concluded.

“Good,” he nodded. “Cuz from the first time I saw you, I thought I had to woo you.”

“Hmm,” she chuckled softly, “You’re sweet.”

“What did you think, when we met?” he asked curiously.

“Honestly?” she asked, not expecting the question as he nodded. “I thought you looked delicious.”

“You’re crazy,” Rodrick said, deciding he might as well try and help the others, “And I love it.”

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” Sara announced, spotting a couple of friends inside.

“Hey,” Rodrick called, as the other boys started handing him things.

“What?” she called, looking back urgently.

“If I scratch my balls, that means I’m thinking of you,” Rodrick made a face, attempting to be cute.

“Very sweet, thank you!” Sara responded, heading inside for a moment.

It was safe to say that Sara really was the only thing that Rodrick was thinking of, even during their set, which was being played for a huge crowd for a small party. Throughout the entire thing, Rodrick could be seen looking to Sara in the front row as she refused to dance with anyone but her best friend, Lauren.

“Sar, your boyfriend’s staring at you!”

“I know,” was all the girl had to say about it.

“He’s cute! And not a Mormon! I approve!” Lauren yelled over their surroundings.

“Lenwood wasn’t a Mormon,” Sara sighed as they danced, not eager to be seen as Lenwood Heath’s ex-girlfriend again.

“His name was also ‘Lenwood’,” Lauren stated.

Sara just sighed. “Fair enough.”

Although she didn’t get her hopes up with Rodrick at all, Sara was glad to be seen with someone who wasn’t a military school-attending lifeguard. She would’ve taken Charlie Sheen over a walking Ken doll any day. Unfortunately, Sara had her mother’s taste in men.

But she felt absolutely no shame in herself as she danced in the very front of the crowd, watching as Rodrick made an aggressive peace sign onstage, jokingly sticking his tongue in the middle of it as he riffed behind Bill. Rodrick was looking right at her, teasing her as he seemed to be air-fucking Chris’s guitar, which he also for some reason stole during the performance.

“Oh my God, he’s so hot!” a girl near them screamed to her friends.

Lauren Do just laughed as she threw her arm around her best friend, as the two of them mindlessly swayed to the heavy metal music with a considerable amount of tequila and cognac both in them. How their liver survived past junior year, they had no idea.

“Yo, you guys did amazing!” Lauren exclaimed as they joined the boys after their performance.

“Hell yeah, man!” Bill roared, wrapping her in a giant bear hug. “How you been, kiddo?!”

“Hey, Sara,” Rodrick smirked, arriving already stumbling due to the many drinks he’d been handed from the stage to where the girls were waiting.

“Hey, Rodrick,” she chuckled at him, waiting for him to make a move.

“So,” he slurred as he threw his arm around her, unable to take his eyes off of her. “Wanna go somewhere… private?” he giggled childishly.

“Sure,” she agreed.

And then, they ended up sitting in the back of the van, doors open as they finally enjoyed their time alone. Sara liked that Rodrick shared the same mind as her.

“You look really pretty tonight,” Rodrick said suddenly, “Wait. Did I already tell you that?”

“I’ll make an exception,” she allowed.

“Did you like the show?” he asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” Sara promised. “I really did. You were really… on tonight, you know?”

He nodded slowly, finding the compliment deeply validating.

“Really? You think so?”

“Yeah. I really do,” she told him.

“I think you did really good,” Rodrick offered.

“I just stood in the crowd,” she said flatly.

“And you were perfect,” he pointed out, smiling as he looked at her with a teasing smile.

“You’re such an idiot,” Sara flirted, a slight vocal fry catching Rodrick’s attention.

He couldn’t contain his childlike sense of joy as he looked right into her eyes, framed by sparkling black eye shadow. He began to worry that he was making too much eye contact.

“Your hair smells like candy,” he breathed, “It’s like crack.”

“Are you drunk?” Sara said playfully.

“Sort of,” he shrugged. “I had…”

She waited as he counted on his fingers.

“Five shots,” he calculated in a drawled slur, somehow on both hands. “And someone passed me a joint at some point. Not sure what idiot would do that,” he laughed.

“Lightweight,” she quipped.

“You know, I think having you in the crowd helped,” Rodrick thought aloud, “It was like… an anchor.”

“An anchor?” Sara wondered.

“Yeah. An anchor. Like, you know, when I look at other people… all I see is bullshit. Like every time I look at anyone else,” he slurred his way through his point, “I just wanna scream in their face, like ‘shut the fuck up’ before they even start talking. But then, when I see you… I want you to not shut the fuck up.”

“And what would you like me to not shut the fuck up about?” she inquired.

“Uh… Anything, really,” Rodrick admitted. “I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

“Well, what do you wanna know?”

“Uh. What’s your favorite color?” he asked in turn.

“Seriously?”

“What? Gotta start somewhere,” he pointed out.

“I don’t really have one,” Sara sighed, “Usually, I just say black.”

“Me too,” he nodded, “I just like dark colors. I think they look nice,” he rambled.

“Yeah.”

“I like them on you,” he chortled, drunkenly booping her nose.

She flinched, not out of any sort of fear, but mainly because most people didn’t really tend to do things like boop her nose.

“Wow, you’re a happy drunk,” Sara nodded, taking everything in.

Rodrick giggled happily, wrapping his arm around her, more so for support than affection as he slowly began to fall into her lap.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, sloppily fishing around in his pants pocket, “Wanna share a joint and talk about life?”

“Yes, I would like that very much,” she decided, fully aware that whatever Rodrick would have to say about life in that moment would be very interesting to her.

“Yay.”

She watched as he dug around in his pocket for a lighter, handing her the joint.

“First hit, milady?” he said in a horrible British accent.

“Thank you, kind sir,” Sara accepted, joint hanging out of her mouth as Rodrick held the lighter up to it.

It took him a minute to align the flame with the end of the joint, but eventually, it got there. She took a couple of decent hits, attempting to get closer to Rodrick’s level. The two sat for a few minutes or so, silently passing it back and forth as they both tried to find things to talk about.

“How did you become so cool?” he asked out of nowhere.

Sara looked at him incredulously, once again s surprised by how genuinely sweet he could be without even realizing it.

“I don’t know that I’m that cool,” she shrugged indifferently.

“Yeah, you are! You like cool music, you dress cool, and you make cool art, and you talk cool!” he exclaimed, luckily not hitting the joint too hard.

“I mean… A lot of that stuff, I kinda got from Bill,” she supposed. “He showed me most of the stuff I like now.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. Bill’s a cool guy,” Rodrick nodded.

“What about you and Greg? Does he like what you like?” Sara asked curiously.

“No way,” he scoffed. “He’s not that cool.”

It took a moment before Rodrick actually thought about the question and passed the joint back.

“I feel like he’s got too much going for him to like what I like,” he remarked.

“How so?”

“I don’t know,” Rodrick breathed, “My little brother, he just… he’s not a fuck up like I was, or like I am, you know? He gets okay grades, he doesn’t get in too much trouble, he doesn’t have to play dumb to keep himself from getting disappointed.

“Like, don’t get me wrong, the kid’s not a genius, but he’s average. Perfectly average. He fits in. He’s shit at most things, and okay at some things. He’s, like, what most parents will settle for. He doesn’t need me, or my stupid advice,” he expressed.

Sara nodded wordlessly, beginning to understand him a lot more.

“I know what you mean,” she offered. “My little brother… He’s so smart. He’s a genius, like, when I was a kid, I read at a college reading level and stuff, but this kid is like science smart. He’s gonna become a fucking doctor,” she said between puffs.

“Whoa. That’s, like, as close to a real life wizard as you can get,” Rodrick realized in awe.

“My mom, she had Bill really young, and she had me just a couple years before she actually got away from our dad, and became a real adult, I guess,” Sara explained, “So I feel like my little brother’s the only one of us who got a real childhood… And like, good for him, but I’m also jealous.”

Rodrick looked at her with genuine sadness in his eyes, one hand holding the joint, and one hand on her cheek.

“You… deserved a good childhood,” he whispered.

Somehow, despite how drunk and high he sounded, Sara accepted what he had to say.

“Is it weird that I wanna kiss you right now?” she questioned.

“No,” Rodrick shook his head nervously.

“Was that your plan all along?” she asked. “Get me to share, and then make out with me?”

“Nope,” he said honestly. “I didn’t think I could get you to kiss me at all, let alone twice,” he pointed out.

“That checks out,” she remarked.

“But that’s good to know,” Rodrick said softly, an innocent smile on his face.

“Open your mouth,” Sara muttered, raising the joint to her lips.

In a flash, Rodrick felt he might’ve known what she meant, but he wasn’t sure. Slowly opening his mouth, he watched her movements carefully as she ghosted the joint, exhaling slightly just to pull the smoke back in. Leaning into him, she made a tiny ‘O’ shape with her lips, blowing smoke right into his mouth as he desperately inhaled, needing to breathe her in.

He kissed her softly, not wanting to be too aggressive as he lightly rested his hand on her thigh, hooking his other arm around her. She came closer to him, giving him one last deep kiss before pulling away, taking another hit for him to inhale from her.

“Fuck,” he gasped, laughing in disbelief. “I’m kissing the coolest girl at the party! And, ever,” he chuckled.

As the two of them killed the joint and forgot it even existed, Rodrick eventually returned to his previous state of silently worshiping Sara.

“I don’t want you to think I just wanna hook up, or something,” he said, feeling kind of stupid, “I don’t wanna kiss you because I’m trying to sleep with you. I wanna kiss you because you’re the one person worth kissing.”

“We’ll see if you can prove it,” she decided.

He thought she was leaning in to kiss him, but this time, she got up, sitting down on his lap. He looked at her practically in shock as she laid her hands on his shoulders, looking at him nonchalantly. To him, this was a shockingly kind gesture, but to her, it was a simple test to make sure he didn’t react like he knew this was coming all along.

“Oh, fuck,” Rodrick gasped, unable to control his responses.

She looked at him innocently, playing with his hair as she sat on his lap.

“Is this okay?” she asked him.

“More than okay,” he nodded quickly, seeming flustered.

He closed his eyes slowly as she leaned into kiss him, fingers getting lost in his hair as she deepened the kiss. He was a bit stiff at first, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, but eventually, he became more confident in what he did for her. Rodrick placed his hands on her waist in a more innocent manner, not groping or grabbing.

He was simply admiring her, taking pleasure in the fact that he got to look at her more so than anything else. Closing his eyes readily, he gave a tiny, surprised whine as her kisses moved to his neck, gradually becoming more rough. He panted softly as he felt her nipping at the sensitive skin on his neck, now desperately grabbing onto her ass.

He mumbled random and desperate praise as she kissed his neck, completely lost in his own ecstasy.

“Fuck, you drive me crazy,” he laughed lightly, “You’re perfect. You’re so pretty. Shit,” he whined, feeling her grind harder and harder against him.

Sara roughly tilted Rodrick’s head upward by suddenly tugging on his hair, listening to his surprisingly high-pitched sounds as she kissed on his neck. A low grunt got caught in his throat as she hit the right spot, sighing as she brought her kiss back up to his lips.

“You like that, huh?” she wondered.

“Yeah,” Rodrick nodded quickly, stopping to hold her, his arms wrapped protectively around her. “I do. This is literally the best date ever,” he laughed.

“Is that so?” Sara asked in amusement.

“Yeah,” he nodded, eyes wide and pleading as he tried to compose himself.

#rodrick heffley #rodrick rules #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick x reader #doawk rodrick #devon bostick #doawk #diary of a wimpy kid #rodrick smut #rodrick heffley smut

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twigg96 · 6 months ago

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Ride Em' Cowboy

Chapter 1: Being Family is a Promise

Pairing: Bull Rider! Daryl X Male! EMT! Reader

Era: Rodeo AU (A Walker Free AU)

Pronouns: He/Him/You

Warnings: Swearing, Merle Dixon, Merle being Merle, Peer Pressure, Bar Scene, Smoking, Blood, light violence, slow burn

Chapter Summery: Daryl is just trying to live his life. But he has obligations that can't be ignored. Obligations to the farm he works on to keep food on the table. Obligations to friends to keep a good repour in the town. Obligations to his last remaining family member to keep him safe from his own self destructive ass.

Cigarette smoke swirled and made the air thick in the little po-dunk bar Merle frequented every single night. Daryl as the younger brother used the excuse that he had to accompany Merle... not just for the free smokes and booze Merle's friends inevitably bestowed upon him seeing him without a beer already firmly in his hand, but... to make sure Merle make it home in one piece alive and well whether he liked it or not. His brother was a bad driver even while sober.

Saddling up to the bar Daryl nursed his fourth beer of the night. Some shitty lager or Lite beer he didn't know the name of that one of Merle's shady biker friends shoved in his hands. "When you ever gonna learn?" The owner of the bar hummed shaking her head. Soft brown eyes conflicted with starlight grey hair. Staring up at the woman through his tipsy haze Daryl clicked his tongue, pulling a pack of Pall Mall Reds out of his breast pocket patting them against the bar's counter top. "Learn wha'?" He slurred, his eyes falling to his hands, flicking open the carton top of his cigarettes. Pulling one out by it's orange filter by his teeth, he wasn't surprised when a clean glass slammed against the counter in front of him. Following pale skin up to her face Daryl stared blankly back at the woman. "Followin' the likes of him around is only gonna drag ya down, pookie." Carol hummed her eyes skating past Daryl's shoulder to a table where Merle was bent over whispering in some pretty little young blonde's ear.

"Dumb sum' bitch..." Daryl huffed, throwing his arm back in his seat. "Bastard jest don't know when ta fuckin' stop." He hissed shoving the carton back in his pocket. Fishing the lighter from another pocket he ignored the forlorn way the owner stared at him. "Maybe... jest remember it ain't always your job ta clean up his messes." She hummed. Turning his glare onto Carol he huffed. "Yeah... and if it ain't then who's fuckin' job is it then?" He growled throwing himself back in his seat.

Taking a long drag from his cigarette he let the smoke linger and burn in his throat and lungs. Turning his glare to the wall full of posters behind Carol, Daryl huffed. Though he could hardly focus long enough on any of them to read the finer print with details and other nesciences, he could read the big bold titles that were meant to catch the eye of any passer by.

Fishing Contest at the Docks!! Bring the kids!!

One said in various fonts and bright bold letters that screamed it was meant for middle aged men and their wives. Daryl huffed rolling his eyes glancing down the bar to his right eyeing a blonde number who was trying almost desperately through her drunken stupor to snap a clear photograph of the poster with her cellphone. He assumed just by looking at her she was a deadbeat single mother. The large fake ass gold hoop earrings. The botched boob job and second hand knockoff designer clothing... Desperate to reconnect with her teenage kids in this last ditch attempt to keep some relevance in their life before they all ran off in their own ways... it was derepressing just to think about.

MISSING DOG: BUSTER WILL PAY REWARD

This poster in particular caught Daryl's attention with the bold capital letters screaming at him. The photo of the dog under the words looked sad, its black eyes wide and tearful, ears back as it looked up at whoever took the picture. Daryl hoped that where ever it ended up the dog ended up safer and happier than it looked there... He also wondered as he lifted his beer to his lips, if Buster was the name of the dog or the man paying the reward for the dog... It wouldn't do much good to go out yelling for the name of your bank when you need a loan would it? So why would he go out screaming some random man's name when he wasn't positive it wasn't the dog's? To top it off, one run over of the poster showed there wasn't a phone number for this person... nor an address... so what? This Buster just wanted to brag that his dog was missing? Or maybe it was a dog family desperately looking for their missing Buster. Now Daryl was really fucking confused...

Finishing his beer in one go to help clear his head he sighed. The damned wall looked like the classified section of the damned newspaper.

Roommate Needed!

Ah yes... strangers in the home were always a fantastic idea. Fucking idiot was going to end up on 60 seconds...

Rodeo This Saturday!

Did Daryl look like a god damned clown? He only tolerated the ranch he worked at for the free food and reduced rent while living on property with Merle. He wasn't about to spend his free time around more animals than he had to.

Greene's Farm Half Price! Tomatoes Carrots Lettuce Peppers - Banana, Jalapeno, Ghost, and Bell Onions Whole Ducks Whole Chickens Eggs - Unsorted! by the dozen + More!

Now that... that Daryl could get behind. The Greene's Farm was a small family owned farm in town. They took care of their own. He appreciated that. Maybe he'd swing down later in the week to restock their fridge. It was looking a little bare.

Glass shattering against the wall Daryl was fixated on pulled him out of his thoughts. Whipping around he had to admit. He wasn't completely surprised to see the heavy set man with a bald head glaring daggers at his older brother. A large arm wrapped tightly around the tiny blonde Merle had just been flirting with. The man's handlebar mustache flared out with every breath he took. Dressed in clothing that was much too expensive for the likes of the hole in the wall bar Daryl cocked his brow wondering what a man like that was ever doing in a town like this in the first place.

"Listen here ya fuckin' no good shit stain." The man growled pointing directly at Merle's chest. "I don't ever wanna see ya near my Lou ever again ya hear! Or I'll paint yer fuckin' brains all over the god damned walls!" He hissed. A reasonable request if anyone asked Daryl. Didn't matter if she were his wife or his daughter... based off the age gap alone he surely hoped it was the latter.

"Now hold on and give me a minute." Merle mused, placing his hands down on the table splaying his fingers wide. A shit eating grin plastering his face. "I didn't even kiss her."

Oh fuck.

The man's face twisted from anger and confusion to rage. "You tryin' ta prove somethin' with that?! I don't give a damn if ya kissed her! Keep yer fuckin' mits off her!" The man screamed turning beat red.

Pushing off his seat Daryl moved to stand behind his brother. Whether it was to pull his ass out of danger or fight alongside him... he wasn't sure yet. But he knew his place and he knew it well.

Merle hummed his grin turning devilish with Daryl by his side. "Well... how about a friendly wager then?" He mused. Fucking asshole.

The man opened his mouth to speak but Merle's hand shot up to interrupt. "My best man against yers... this Saturday."

The fuck did he just say? Eyebrows shooting up way past his hairline Daryl could have cold cocked Merle in the back of the head had the situation been less perilous.

But the man straightened up. Seemingly taking the bet into consideration. At a glance he didn't seem like the type to gamble especially in fights... then again Daryl couldn't exactly judge in other's vices.

"Now hold on I don't even know yer name." The man said skeptically. Good on him.

But the eldest Dixon was cunning. He hadn't gotten out of five separate charges for grand larceny and fraud for nothing. Standing up straight he met the man's eyes. "You mean you ain't never heard of little old me?" He asked. "Name's Merle Dixon." A beat passed where Daryl was positive the man had soused Merle out. He would kick his ass and this charade would end. But instead... he nodded. "Jaxon Porter. You got a team in this weekend's rodeo?" Jaxon asked earnestly.

You've gotta be shi-

Daryl's thoughts were interrupted as Merle nodded reaching behind himself. Patting Daryl's shoulder hard enough to make him stumble forward the younger huffed staring hard and direct to the floor. "Sure do. Matter o' fact. Mah little brotha' is our cowboy in this year's roughstock events. Ain't that right Daryl?" Merle hummed turning a hard threatening glance his way.

Swallowing hard Daryl shuffled his feet. He hated this. He didn't exactly have plans. But he knew how fucking dangerous it all was. He fucked around cleaning enough of the bull's hooves back a the ranch to know how temperamental they were in a stall. On their back? With nothing but a rope? Never having been dehorned? Nah fuck that.

But Merle stared expectantly. The man in white expensive clothing with way too many rings on his hands was eyeing him up like a prized pig. He honestly doubted he even looked the part of a real cowboy.

But then Merle laughed rubbing his back in a way Daryl resented. "Don't worry bout him none. He's the quiet type." He mused to the rich prick. To his surprise the bastard nodded rubbing the stubble on his chin. "Makes sense. Most are." Are what?!

Shaking his head Jaxson looked down at... Lou who nodded excitedly back before meeting Merle's eyes with a gleeful expectant glint tainting her own that Daryl had seen over and over in every five dollar whore Merle brought home.

"Alright... deal. Your boy against mine. If he can out ride 'em you get ta see Lou again..." he sighed. Merle nodded smirking victoriously. "Until then-" He extended his hand toward the girl taking her hand in his raising it to his lips. But before he could even get close Jaxon's hand moved to his waist band where a pistol would be.

Stepping back Merle gripped the back of Daryl's shirt dragging him to the door with him. "AND... that's my queue baby! See you both Saturday!"

It was silent outside of the bar. Only the sound of the crickets singing and the cicadas screaming echoed through the parking lot as both Daryl and Merle stumbled to their cancer riddled truck. Struggling for domain of the driver's seat, Daryl pulled the keys from his pocket dangling them high for Merle to see. From the hard cracked leather seat he watched as Merle threw his usual temper tantrum. Bitching and complain through the glass of the truck he kicked a few rocks in the bar's parking lot before taking a piss beside the truck to mark his territory.

As Merle climbed into his side of the truck Daryl couldn't help himself... not that he wanted to anyhow. Cocking back he punched Merle square in the fucking nose just as the dick got the door closed so that the back of his head smaked off the glass window pane on his door. Watching for a moment as Merle groaned as held his face, blood flowing freely from between his fingers onto his lap, Daryl pulled a used MacWondles napkin out from the cupholder and shoved it in Merle's face.

"The fuck was tha' for?!" Merle growled with tears springing to the corners of his eyes holding the useless napkin up to his face that instantly turned to mush in his hands from the sheer amount of blood that soaked up in it. Pulling out of the lot Daryl stayed silent. Focused on the road and not swerving all over it both in his anger and drunken haze.

"Well?!" Merle hissed once more, winding the window down to toss the soaked paper out the window and pull his wifebeater off to use as a rag,

"Know damned well what ya did..." Daryl murmured. Staring like Daryl had just grown a second head Merle waved his free arm around exaggeratedly. "Obviously fuckin' not dip shit!" Merle screamed his voice sounding congested and nasally as he pinched his nose shut.

Pulling to a stop at the only stop sign in town Daryl turned and glared at Merle. His full attention on his brother he took in everything he desperately tried to find something redeeming in his brother... in that moment it was damned near impossible. It was a good thing he had been with him this long to know what his thick and thin looked like.

"You know I never rode a bull before." He murmured softly, his shoulders dropping and face falling.

Merle smirked a warm chuckle swelled from his chest. "Well hell baby brother." He hummed, relaxing in his seat. "Didn't have ta hit me just cause ya were scared... I'm sure learning ta ride a bull is jest as easy as riding a bike... you'll see. It'll be easy as pie. And trust me, there will be a hefty lump sum in for ya too if you win."

Daryl doubted that. He doubted that he'd ever make it out into the ring without being caught as a sham. Christ... who were they fooling?

Pulling away from the stop sign towards the trailer they both shared Daryl couldn't shake the nagging gnawing dread that ate into his stomach. But... Family came first. Right?

**Author's Note:

Hi guys!! This is the first Chapter fic I've ever posted to Tumblr made for Tumblr!! I would really really appreciate some feed back to know how I'm doing! I am so excited to share this WIP with you as it progresses!

Thank you all so much!!

#rodeo au #chapter 1 #daryl dixon x male reader #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd #twd daryl #daryl dixion x reader #daryl #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #five naked cowboys in the shower at RAM RANCH

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oldworldwidgets · 8 months ago

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TEDDY TIME TEDDY TIME

howdy pardners this is theodore dawson, my courier from new vegas :3 he is very large and very angry yet very soft and very gay and he is so precious to me

here's his playlist!! once again it's chronological so u can listen to his story like a fun yeehaw jukebox musical. i think his is my favorite of all my character playlists

alllll the teddy stuff (appearance, stats, story before the canon events of the game, fun facts) can be found under the cut!!! if you feel so inclined to read The Long Version written like a story where my longwinded ass spends about 7k words talking about themes and character motivations (and some soft gay longing perhaps), it's up on ao3 here.

appearance

41 years old; birthday may 3, 2240

6’6 with broad shoulders, generally built like a securitron.

patches of vitiligo splash across his face, chest, and arms

bennys bullet hit the right side of his face, carving a path from his eye to his ear, where a chunk of his ear is missing

because of this, he's blind in his right eye. the blind eye (a light, milky blue) is always a bit more closed than the seeing one (a dark, warm brown)

dark auburn chin-length hair and a short beard, both peppered with white because of his age and vitiligo. a big chunk of hair behind his ear is white as it grows from the scar.

he wears a horse or cow-skin vest with a great khans patch on the back

signature black cowboy hat, either on the top of his head or tied around his neck so it hangs down his back

gold jewelry - dangly cross earring in his left ear, upside down cross on a leather strap around his neck, big ass belt buckle

bright red shotgun shells on leather belt slung around his waist for his shotgun, dinner dell

stats

SPECIAL: 8, 1, 4, 5, 9, 2, 10

favorite perks: confirmed bachelor, animal friend, ferocious loyalty, intimidating presence

story

his dad was raised in utah and was very strictly mormon. when new jerusalem collapsed, dad moved himself, his wife, and his first son to the mojave and found work on an NCR sharecropper farm.

teddy was born fifth of six kids: four older brothers and one younger sister. he, his sister hannah, and his brother noah all have very visible vitiligo.

the kids were all also raised strictly mormon. his whole childhood, they were very poor. "at least we have each other" poor. his dad blamed it on the NCR, who owned the house and land and animals they ranched. they owned nothing, and the NCR paid them little more than that. teddy was quickly disillusioned with the NCR, then with the three of his brothers who decided to join them. one brother stayed back to inherit the ranch.

turns out, the NCR was paying; dad was just gambling it all away. he was so deeply in debt to all the families on the strip that they all decided to cut their losses and burn his farm to the ground.

that's... that's the story teddy decided to tell hannah, anyway (he wouldnt tell u this but he totally burnt that shit down on purpose). mom, dad, and one of his brothers were lost in the fire. teddy and hannah made it out, waved goodbye, parted ways.

teddy took his horse, old red, and began running jobs for whoever needed them. he never tied himself to one organization aaand his jobs weren't always above the ethical board. really, it was luck of the draw that, on any given day, he was the one defending the caravan instead of stealing from it

when he eventually went searching for his siblings, he found that two of the three brothers that had enlisted, predictably, were killed on duty. noah, though, had absconded almost immediately upon arrival due to a nasty chem habit

he found hannah "working" in front of gomorrah on the stip - her vitiligo made them instantly recognizable to each other - but she pretended not to know him because she was ashamed. he understood and gave up, but not before she hinted that he could find noah at the old mormon fort

he did, in fact, find noah there, medically detoxing under the care of some hot, blonde doctor (bweheheh....). they reconnected and it was..... really nice, even when they talked about how ashamed their dad would be if he could see them. it didnt matter. the family disappointments were the only family survivors.

teddy and arcade quickly grew very fond of each other, with arcade even being the first one to call him "teddy" after he told the doctor his name was theodore. he decided, despite its cutesy nature, to keep it.

after finishing his open jobs, teddy decided to stay with noah at the fort and run jobs for the followers when they needed it. he got reeeal comfy with arcade, and their subtle, playful flirtations eventually became noticeable to others. his brother, angry and sick from chem withdrawal and still fighting his religious upbringing, could not handle finding out that his baby brother was gay. when he did, he angrily shouted slurs and threw bottles at them until he was sedated and returned to bed.

teddy left the fort that night while everyone but the night watchman slept. he struggled to recover from what happened and drifted listlessly for a while... until he heard the news that noah had fled from his "rehab" program in the fort the day after teddy left, overdosed, and died.

the news spurred something in him, and he went looking for a real family and place to call home. after excelling in his initiation trials, he found one with the great khans. for two years, he was their resident rancher, runner, therapist, you name it.

then: 2278. the bitter springs massacre. teddy was away when it happened, and he still hasnt forgiven himself for it.

he spent the next three years drifting - again. hunting NCR. somehow racking up bounties in seemingly every single tribe in the mojave. his infamy, believe it or not, helped him survive: when he came across those who would kill him or turn him in, they seemed to prioritize who got to turn him in and collect the bounty over keeping themselves alive. whoops!

it was exhausting, though. drifting, killing, taking on the wasteland completely alone (except his beloved animals) took a heavy toll on teddy. he'd always been a killer and an outlaw, but he'd always been paid to clear other people's consciences. now, he felt he was only killing people to run from the consequences of his own actions. it was exhausting.

so, when three strangers – one in a loud, black-and-white checkered blazer – tried to knock him out and bind his hands, well… he had no reason not to let them.

*aint that a kick in the head starts blaring*

fun facts

hes not a big chem guy but hes such an alcoholic. in game he keeps at least 10 whiskeys on him at all times but would prefer to drink a sarsaparilla over using a stimpak.

he needs glasses pretty badly for his one seeing eye but he’s too stubborn to wear them

his scars always look a bit irritated because he doesnt take care of himself

he was a big pistol guy before benny shot him, but after he went blind in his aiming eye and started suffering from bouts of dizziness, he became a shotgunner. they require a far-from-perfect style of aiming

#BEHOLD: TEDDY #tw: religion #tw: overdose #not teddy but an important (non-canon) character #oc: teddy #fallout new vegas #new vegas oc #fallout oc #fnv oc #fnv courier #arcade gannon #courier three #followers of the apocalypse #courier 3

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ratasum · 6 months ago

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When We Were Young, Ch. 1

Summary: Once upon a time, an excitable little boy with messy hair sat down next to an angry, lonely orphan girl in a progeny class and decided they were going to be best friends. Zojja may have been skeptical of Hann at first, but time changes a lot of things... Word Count: 3003 Note: I refer to Leyya by her deadname and old pronouns in this fic because that's how Zojja knew her until college. She is still a trans woman, and as an adult uses she/her pronouns. AO3 Link

“Wards of the council.” That was what everyone called them, anyway. It was a polite way of saying they were orphans, of course- not that there was any stigma, but she was very keenly aware of how differently people treated them when one of the caretakers took them anywhere that wasn’t in the group home deep in the bowels of Rata Sum. She was smart enough to realize the difference, and clever enough to sort out that she hated it.

Some of the kids, she had learned, remembered their parents. Lost in tragic lab accidents or any number of bizarre accidents that could befall a hapless asura. She herself didn’t remember at all. The caretaker had told her that her father died before she was born. Her mother? Lost in childbirth.

And so Zojja was placed with two dozen other kids close to her in age when she wasn’t even old enough to speak or walk, and had grown up with no one but the other orphans to keep her company. And as far as she was concerned, it wasn’t much. The superintendent was very kind, but that didn’t make their lives any less lonely.

And she didn’t expect today to be much different. Even a six year old could feel the difference in the air, after all, and being placed into a progeny class was better than sitting around and getting annoyed listening to the other kids try desperately to keep up with her rapidly developing mind. They called her a prodigy. Maybe they were right, but she didn’t like hearing it.

The preinstructor, she heard, was a nice younger woman with a kid about the same age as the kids in her part of the group home. Apparently, she’d be bringing that kid with her to the classes… perhaps that made sense. Easier, she supposed, if nothing else.

And so she sat, balled up in her usual corner with her little datapad and stylus, a little bit away from the other children. That was the way it always was. She was in her own head, angry and sullen, and it was so hard for her to make friends. So why put in the effort with a bunch of kids who weren’t going to give her the same effort?

Zojja sat that way for what felt like ages before the woman in question came through the door. She was short and heavy set, with inky skin and bright gold eyes, long braided hair a very pale blonde. The little boy at her side was definitely poured from the same mold- leaner, though, and very lanky, with amber eyes and a shock of white hair that stuck out in every direction. Something told her that it must’ve been impossible to tame on a good day.

“Good morning, students!” The progeny instructor’s voice was bright and sunny, almost grating, but the other kids responded cheerfully and so Zojja tried to do so in kind, one hand lifting in a tentative wave. “I’ll be your new preinstructor moving forward. My name is Pruri, and this is my son Hann. He’ll be joining you in the class.”

Two dozen eyes turned on the boy, then, and it was obvious not all those looks were kind. Hann had a target just on the principle of being the only kid in the room with even one parent… not the best position to be in when one was in a room full of orphans.

But Zojja just watched him with an appraising look, and as she tilted her head, Hann turned and caught her eyes, staring back for a moment before his head swung up towards his mother. “Mom, can I go sit?”

She nodded faintly, gesturing for him to move along, and much to Zojja’s surprise, the boy trotted right over to plop down beside her, leaning back on his hands and offering a brilliant grin. She blinked a few times before furrowing her brow, scrunching up her nose. “Hello…?”

“Hi!” He shifted his weight to stick out one hand, grinning all the while. “I’m Hann. What’s your name?”

Taken aback, she hesitated before taking his offered hand. “...Zojja.”

Hann beamed, giving her hand a firm shake. “Hi, Zojja! I think we’re gonna be good friends, y’know? I got a feeling about those things.”

She wasn’t sure of that.

Already Hann seemed like the sort of kid she’d normally avoid. He sat there with that silly grin, ears straight up, hair a mess and hanging into his face. None of the other kids even looked at him when he’d headed over to sit by her, but maybe that would change. There were any number of far more personable progeny here, herself not included among them.

Hann, however, didn’t appear to take notice of any of the cluster of other kids. They were all sitting in their own little groups. He had apparently decided that, as she was the only one sitting off to herself without anyone around her, she was in need of some sort of extra company.

Not that she needed it. She had been just fine on her own since she was old enough to understand her lot in life, and she would be just fine on her own after. It was a very mature thought for a very little girl, but like most asuran progeny, she was far smarter than one might expect for a child of six… and then smarter by far than that.

“...are you gonna sit over here all class?”

Hann’s expression when she asked was curious, tipping his head in a way that caused that wild mess of pale hair to sway to the side. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re over here all alone. And Mom says I’m gonna learn with you guys. So I should make a friend, and you look like you need one!”

Zojja squinted at him, then sat back on her hands. He was very high energy, and a lot to deal with. But she could manage. Maybe, if she just ignored him, he would go bother one of the other kids instead. Turning her head when Pruri began to introduce their “icebreaker” lesson, she made up her mind.

It wouldn’t take long at all. She was sure of it.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The first thing that softened her view happened as other areas of Tyria were entering the winter months.

The boy was determined, she gave him that. He was also kind of funny, telling little jokes under his breath as his mother talk. Allaying boredom between lessons by showing her little sleight of hand tricks he’d taught himself and sometimes stealing extra candy during lesson time, giving the dolyak’s share to her. When she asked how he’d learned to do that, he just winked and said “trade secret!”

The other kids never seemed to warm up to him, but as she let herself talk to him more, she was glad they hadn’t. He had three younger siblings, too young yet for progeny school, two from his dad and one from his mom. They’d separated when Hann was far too young to remember, and often Hann was a bit left on the wayside.

He lived with his mother. Rarely saw his father.

For all the love he should’ve had in his life, with two living parents and three brothers and sisters, he was far lonelier than she had anticipated. And that manifested in unexpected ways.

Hann did not really have much in the way of family, despite having plenty of it.

She may not have admitted it openly, but as time passed, Zojja came to appreciate Hann seeking her out in classes. He was always cheerful, energetic, even when she had a feeling he wasn’t really feeling it at the time. They had their lunches together, talked often. Hann would sneak things from where he lived with his mom to show her, books and papers and anything interesting he could get his hands on.

He often got in trouble for it, but it didn’t seem to deter him.

What was it the superintendent often said…? Even negative attention was attention to the neglected…?

Whatever it was, it only seemed to spur the boy on. And over time, he got caught less and less. That didn’t make Pruri stop bringing him, of course. She often heard his mother lecture him at the beginning of class that he should be more like Zojja. Quiet and obedient and oh if only she knew. She sniffed indignantly whenever she heard it- obedient, pah.

But then, something changed. She had always seen Hann as being such a stabilizing force, even when things were weird… and he’d been gone for a week or two. It was strangely lonely without him there, though she didn’t necessarily want to say that. Something had to be wrong for him to be gone so long, and when he arrived with his mother for classes that morning, she realized she must have been right.

Hann was oddly subdued, despite his mother’s attempts to cheer him up, smoothing his wild pale hair before he ducked away from her and slunk over to Zojja, plunking down next to her and pulling his knees tight against his chest.

Had he been crying…?”

“...Hann?” She wasn’t good with feelings. Not like these, anyway. “Everything okay…?”

He didn’t answer at first, sniffling and scuffing at a wet cheek with the back of one hand. It was only then she realized he had bandages around that arm, thick and hard, indicating a recent broken bone. “...it’s nothing.”

Zojja’s brow furrowed and she pursed her mouth, ears flipping back in frustration. “If it was nothing you wouldn’t have cried. What’s going on?”

Again, he didn’t answer, looking away for a moment before sniffling hard. “Broke my arm. Right before my birthday. That would’ve been fine I don’t really care but… then my dad didn’t show up. Not the day the healers set my arm, or on my birthday. He only said something before we came ‘cuz Mom made him. And he called me Hejj. I don’t even know anybody named Hejj. He thought I was ten, too- I just turned seven.”

Zojja was quiet as he explained. What he said certainly explained a lot about much of his behavior. Pruri was probably doing her best, but things were worse at home than she’d previously thought. “Well.” Her voice was clipped as she sniffed, turning her little nose up. “He just doesn’t know you as good as I do.”

“...we only met like two months ago.”

“And we’ve clearly spent more time together if I can remember your name better th an your own dad. And I’ll remember your birthday for next time, too.”

Hann gave her a curious look, but then he let out a little giggle, scrunching up his nose. “You’re really weird, you know that?”

Though Zojja rolled her eyes, it was hard to avoid smiling. “Not as weird as you.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The second thing solidified their friendship, more than either one expected.

Zojja was a very smart little girl. And that did not go unnoticed by many of the other kids in the care of the superintendent. Some of them were less kind about this than others- an overachiever meant they could reach greater heights than them, and children were often cruel. Taking one down a peg was the option angry, lonely children would lean into.

One of those children was a little boy named Jirrkh. Tall for his age, and broad in build, he stood a little taller than Hann did… meaning he towered over Zojja.

That day had been a long one. They were nearing the end of their first year together, tests and birthdays had come and gone, and after completing their lesson for the day, Zojja had again come out on top of the pack. Hann was thrilled for her, cheering excitedly when Pruri read out the test results. But as they were packing up for the day, it was Jirrkh who made his way over, crossing his arms as he stood over where Hann and Zojja were sitting and putting together their things.

“Can’t you let some of the rest of us win sometimes, Zojja?”

Her pale blue eyes shifted up before she gave him a sharp look, her lips pressed together in a thin little line. “I can’t help it that you don’t pay attention when Professor Pruri is talking, Jirrkh. Maybe if you applied yourself, you could actually score higher than the bottom.”

The taller boy puffed up a bit, frowning sharply at the small girl’s tone. “You’re just a showoff!”

“No. I’m just smarter than you.”

If Jirrkh’s face hadn’t been red before, it certainly was now, and he immediately reached down to try to grab Zojja’s collar to pull her to her feet. What he instead caught was Hann’s arm as it shot into the way, and the wild haired boy scowled as Jirrkh shoved his arm away and stepped back. “You stay out of this, Hann!”

Hann just sniffed, putting his hands on his hips. “No. Zojja’s my friend and you’re being a bookah.”

That elicited a wave of gasps as other progeny began to gather nearby, and Zojja went to push herself to her feet. “He’s not worth it, Hann…”

“No, he’s being rude to you, and you’re my friend.”

Jirrkh frowned, moving forward to get into Hann’s face. “No one’s Zojja’s friend. She’s mean and nasty and doesn’t talk to anybody. She probably wanted you to go away this whole time you’ve been here, like the rest of us!”

“I have not!” Zojja retorted, moving forward. “You take that back!”

If anyone was going to deescalate or break up the fight, it didn’t look to be happening now. By the time Zojja got those words out of her mouth, the bigger boy had lunged, tackling Hann to the ground, causing him to cry out. The jostling of the other kids made it impossible to get too close as they started shouting to egg the pair on. Hann had managed to flip the two, trying to pull away to disengage as Zojja worked to get back to the front of the crowd.

By this point, Pruri had been alerted to the fight that was starting, and she could be heard shouting for them to calm down and break it up as she hurried over. Her voice was just enough of a distraction that Hann jerked his head up, and Jirrkh managed to get one lucky hit.

The blow to the face sent Hann reeling, and right as Jirrkh went to get up and go after him again, Zojja clenched her fists, stamping one foot down hard as flames rippled from the impact, electricity dancing up from her clenched fists around her arms. “Jirrkh, you’d better stop or else!”

Heads whipped around and the voices quieted, just in time for Pruri to push through the crowd of progeny, steering clear of the burgeoning elementalist as she hauled Jirrkh to his feet, one of the other kids reaching to help Hann up on instinct.

“Everyone, everyone stop- there will be no fighting! Hann, I am so disappointed in you!”

“Jirrkh started it! He was being mean to Zojja!”

Other voices lifted for one or the other, and as they did, Zojja was trying to settle, glancing over as Hann moved to her side, his eye rapidly swelling. He would have an awful black eye once this was all said and done. It took Pruri another several moments to calm the kids down, but Zojja’s hand found Hann’s regardless. He didn’t seem to mind the little static zaps from her clawtips.

Someone had to have their backs. Maybe it needed to be each other.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Maybe it was an unorthodox start to their friendship, but from that moment on, the pair were inseparable. And as they got older, the older kids warmed to the two as well, even Jirrkh. More kids came in, others got adopted out, but if nothing else they were there for each other.

But things were about to change.

They had just passed Zojja’s tenth birthday, and most of the kids had finally worked off the sugar from the seafoam pudding Pruri had brought as a special treat. She was laughing as they settled, gesturing with her hands for everyone to sit. “Okay, okay! Calm down everyone! We’ve got one more surprise for you. Since we’ll be starting on building second level golems today, we have a very special guest.”

Hann tipped his head towards Zojja where he’d sat. He’d shot up fast, now standing half a head taller than most of their other classmates, his limbs all long and lanky like he had somehow not grown into them. A comical contrast to Zojja, who had remained small and chubby, most of their classmates outgrowing her.

“Mom’s been super excited about this but she wouldn’t tell me who was coming,” Hann was whispering, tapping his claws lightly on the stone desktop. “Apparently he’s a big deal.”

Zojja’s nose wrinkled up at the thought. “There’s that Synergetics professor, Vilarr. He’s s’posed to be an incredible golemancer but his theories are so basic…”

Hann nearly burst into giggles at that, a grin splitting his face. “You would say that.”

Leaning back a little, Pruri cleared her throat, tapping her stylus against her palm. “Kids! Quiet please. We all need to be very respectful of our guest. He’s one of Rata Sum’s most famous and respected golemancers… but I’ll let him introduce himself.”

Stepping aside, she cleared the way for an older asura to step in. He wore a warm, welcoming expression on his weathered face, grayed hair swept back from his broad face. He swept a look over the gathered progeny, then clasped his hands together in front of him and bowed forward just slightly. “Good morning, scholars! Please allow me to introduce myself…” Standing straight, he beamed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “My name is Snaff.”

#guild wars 2 #gw2 #gw2 community #gw2 asura #gw2 fanfic #infiltrator leyya #zojja #leyya and zojja

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leiawritesstories · 1 year ago

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I'm so happy for you, congrats🫶🫶🎉

This prompt: "I would marry you again in a heartbeat."

thank you so much 🥹🥹❤️ i ADORE this prompt

Word count: 1,154

Warnings: kids being uncontrollable as usual

enjoy!!

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

"I'm home!" Aelin called, pressing the button to close the garage door as she stepped into the house. She kicked off her heels with a sigh of relief, set down her leather tote, and counted exactly eight seconds before two sets of little arms flung themselves around her legs and waist, two excited little voices squealing for Mama! "Hi, my loves," she laughed, ruffling her children's hair. "Let Mama actually get into the house before you tackle me, alright?"

"Tackle?" Brannon perked up, hearing his favorite word. At ten years old, he was just as sports-minded as all the other boys in his class, and he'd had to learn that if he wanted to tackle, he needed to be outside in the Whitethorn-Galathynius family's expansive backyard.

"Of course that's the only thing you hear," Aelin chuckled to herself. "Not literally, son," she told him. "I'm way too strong for you to tackle."

"Are not!" To prove his point, her son charged, barely able to latch his arms around her waist before she swept him up into her arms, tipped him over her shoulder, and carried him into the playroom.

He shrieked with laughter. "Okay! Okay Mama! You win!"

"That's right, B," she teased, squeezing him in a brief hug. "Hi, my boy. How was school--aaaaaand he's gone." She laughed to herself. "Boys."

"Hi Mama!" Seven-year-old Evie gleefully took Bran's place in Aelin's arms, snuggling herself up close against her mother.

"Hi, lovey," Aelin beamed, holding her younger daughter close. "How was your school day?"

"Good!" Evie's grin was a perfect replica of her mother's. "I got a gold star on my spellin' test, an' I pushed Timmy off the monkey bars!"

Aelin's shoulders shook with mirth. "Evalin, honey, haven't we talked about how you shouldn't push other kids on the playground?"

Evie shrugged. "He said Sana's bow was stupid."

"Hmm." Unable to resist her little mirror image, Aelin winked. "Well, I understand that, then. But next time he says something like that, you need to tell the teacher, okay?"

"Okay." Evie bobbed her curly blonde head. "Wanna see my gold star, Mama?"

"Of course I do!" Aelin let her small daughter lead her back out to the kitchen, where she found her eldest child sitting at the dining table, working on a set of math problems.

Evie tugged her past the table before she could stop and say hello. "C'mon, Mama!" Aelin followed her to the fridge, where her latest spelling test was stuck to the door with magnets. "Look!" Evie pointed proudly to the gold star adorning the top of the page.

"Well done, lovey!" Aelin gave her a high five. "You're way better at spelling than I ever was."

"Really?"

"Yep." She nodded. "Don't tell anyone, but I couldn't spell 'banana' the right way until I was Lana's age."

"And you still can't," Rowan teased, coming up behind her and sliding his arms around her waist. He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, just below her ear. "Hi, my love."

"Hi." She turned to face him and pressed her lips to his, earning a full set of disgusted noises from the children.

"Ugh, you guys! Gross!" Lana protested, throwing an eraser at Rowan's back. The oldest of the Whitethorn children, she was almost thirteen and growing up far too fast for Aelin and Rowan's liking.

"Just give it a few more years," Aelin whispered into Rowan's ear.

It was her husband's turn to shudder. "Don't remind me," he groaned.

She chuckled. "I won't. Not when you're cooking dinner, at least." Leaving one last kiss on the edge of his jaw, she went back into the dining room and sat down next to her oldest. "Hey, Lana."

"Hi, Mom." Lana was busy with her math homework, pencil scratching against the paper as she worked through a problem. Aelin could tell from the set of her daughter's jaw that she was stuck, so she waited quietly until Lana groaned and tossed her pencil down on the tabletop.

"This is stupid," she grumbled, scowling. "Stupid math. Why can't they just give us equations instead of stupid word problems?"

Aelin retrieved the pencil and placed it next to Lana's math book. "How far did you get?"

Grudgingly, Lana turned her paper so Aelin could see. "I literally don't even know." She pointed to the problem in the book. "I kinda get what it wants me to solve for, but it's not helpful at all with how to solve it."

"That's why it's called a problem, sweetheart." Aelin read the problem over a few times and looked over her daughter's work. "You've got it just about halfway solved, actually."

"No I don't! There's three variables, I only found one!" Lana was on the verge of wailing.

Aelin kept her voice calm. "Do you know how to use a system of equations?"

Slowly, Lana nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay, good. Here." Aelin rewrote the two equations Lana had found using the variable she'd solved for. "Now can you substitute so there's only one variable?"

"Um..." Lana took the pencil back and scribbled. "Yeah! I can." As she grasped the problem, she wrote faster, until she'd solved for the second variable, plugged it into one of the equations, and found the third. "I did it!"

Aelin checked the math and nodded. "You did it!"

Unexpectedly, Lana got up and squished her mother into a hug that was all lanky limbs. "Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome, sweetheart." Aelin smoothed Lana's messy, light blonde hair and let her go put her math book away, homework done for the night. She went back into the kitchen and took the stack of plates from Rowan's hands. "Let me."

He flashed her a grateful look. "Thanks, babe."

"Ewwwww," Lana grumbled, wrinkling her nose as she passed by.

"There's our almost teen," Rowan chuckled, fondly.

Aelin came over to get silverware. "Stop saying that, it makes me feel old as hell." She pressed her fingertips to his lips before he could make a smart remark about how she was old. "I know, I'm not twenty-two anymore, but neither are you, my love." She smirked. "You've always been old."

"Rude!" Checking to make sure the kids were far out of eyeshot, he flicked the dish towel at her, swiping it across her ass.

She flashed him a wicked grin. "Careful with that, old man. That's how we found ourselves in this situation in the first place."

His face flushed a delightful shade of scarlet and he coughed, choking on whatever he'd been about to say. "I love you so much," he wheezed, regaining his breath.

"I love you more." Silverware set, she slipped into his embrace, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head against his shoulder. "I know we're already married, Ro, but I would marry you again in a heartbeat."

His deep green eyes went soft. "I'd marry you again every day, Fireheart."

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

#my writing #answered prompt #leia's 500 followers thing #rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass fanfic #rowaelin children #rowaelin and kiddos #silly goofy fun little family fluff fic

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feyres-divorce-lawyer · 10 months ago

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um anyways so my brother is watching *shudder* fate and made the grave mistake of calling it a good show within my presence (honestly did he learn nothing from shadow and bone🙄) so of course i had to follow him around the apartment for seven minutes and rant about the gross, grotesque even, disservice netflix did to winx club.

first off, the world. what the fuck happened to magix? netflix what did you do to my house?! the best appeal to winx club was fairies and magic existing in a technologically advanced world that is usually almost always found in sci-fi. magix having flying cars and hover bikes and phones that make earth tech look ancient (thx tecna), and fucking laser guns subverted bloom’s expectations! she thought she would see dragons and wands and wizards because that’s what fairy tales consist of on earth AND IT MAKES SENSE BECAUSE EARTH’S MAGIC WAS DEPLETED BY THE WIZARDS OF THE BLACK CIRCLE AND FAIRY TALES WOULD REMAIN THE SAME WHILE THE REST OF THE DIMENSIONS ADVANCED! they took away magix for some harry potter, dark aesthetic vibe FOR WHAT!? where’s the color! where’s the joy, the whimsy?! bloom had fun when the girls took her around magix because it wasn’t what she expecteeedddd! the otherworld (how creative😒) is just like every other run of the mill magical world with dark secrets, cold stone castles, and mind-numbing rigidity. alfea was blue and pink and bright, and ya killed her for some hogwarts copycat, thx a lot.

next up, the most heinous crime in my opinion, bloom and stella’s relationship. ooooh i’m bout to tweak in this bitch. i watched the show’s like first 3 eps and remember nothing but bloom and stella’s relationship is not at all the same. they’re the best friends ok. the best friends. bloom saved stella from knot, she transformed for the first time thinking she was saving stella’s ring from the trix, stella was the one who introduced her to everything. they’re each other’s defenders. stella helped bloom when she was struggling becoming domino’s princess. if bloom committed murder via arson stella’s helping her hide the body. and what did netfucks do to this beautiful friendship? made them adversaries over a guy😐 sky of all ppl, that bland blonde, “mr. i’ll pursue a relationship with a girl that knows nothing about intergalactic politics and won’t know i’m engaged” ALSO keeping on track with their “change things that subvert expecations” netflix made stella into the exact type of character winx did not. this popular princess, fairy of the sun, is a mean bitchy girl? oh who would’ve thought, no one saw that coming. netflix you owe me compensation

NEXT! um where are my magical girl transformations😐 winx club the magical girl show, with magical girl transformations and banger music (harmonix has the best song fight me). what is this hand waving magic in civillian clothes nonsense. GIVE BLOOM HER SPARKLY BLUE CROP TOP AND GOLD WINGS NEOWWWW. glad the show is cancelled now tho cuz i don’t wanna see how they would’ve butchered enchantix

NEXT! the trix. oh my favorite witches. why why whyyyy would they make all three of them into one person and then apparently (according to my brother he’s terrible at describing shows tho so idk) SHE BECOMES GOOD? NO! the trix are meant to foil the winx. how neither group gives up but one fight to save the world while the other fights to destroy it. how both groups are sisters if not in blood. icy darcy and stormy did not serve cunt in season one to get meshed into some frankensteinian mess because netflix wanted to reboot a beloved kid’s show and then took way all the things that made it beloved😐

and finally, valtor. yes valtor or baltor depending on which version you grew up with. um what they did to him. who the fuck is sebastian and why is he in a baseball cap. valtor terrorized the world in a purple coat and luscious hair that he maintains with his carefully curated 22 step routine. he would NOT wear plain bland clothes with a baseball cap. BLASPHEMY!

anyways, yea netflix i hope you’re haunted by the dragon flame

#winx club #anti fate the winx saga #bloom winx #stella winx #my loves #valtor winx #the trix

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theprettynosferatu · 2 years ago

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1 - Balance

Emily worried about her sister. This was a feeling she would not admit to even under the most exquisite torture, and would deny it to others to her dying breath; but she had been forced to admit, at least to herself, that a part of her -a miniscule part, an annoying gnat of a part- geninely cared about Miranda. She felt like she wanted to find that part of herself and punch it in its stupid fucking face.

There was too much history there, far too much bad blood, and the fact that Miranda had done nothing to deserve her ire only made her more upset. Emily was sure her sister didn’t understand why she hated her guts. How could she? Little Miss Diligent, the good student who never got into any trouble, the shadow that crept through life leaving no mark could never truly know just how she had harmed Emily. She could never understand… balance.

Truth be told, Emily wasn’t sure she got it herself. It was more a feeling than a developed philosophical stance, but from an early age Emily felt she had been born to balance out Miranda’s existence. How the genetics of it worked, she couldn’t say. Miranda’s beauty had always been a subtle, understated affair; Emily’s long, gold-blonde hair had earned her coos and praise from old women as a child, thrusting her into the spotlight before she even knew whether she liked it or not. It simply felt like her place and duty: shadows needed light to exist, and Miranda could blend into the background as long as all eyes were fixed on her little sister. Balance. Miranda could be the good sister by default as long as Emily played the troublesome brat, and so she did. Miranda could be the smart one despite her mediocrity only insofar as she did better than Emily at school, so Emily made a point not to listen to the teachers at all. Of course, as a kid she wasn’t aware of all these choices, of how much of herself existed only to let her sister be herself.

Awareness of this fact came in her teenage years. It felt as if the Universe itself was slapping Emily in the face, telling her exactly what her purpose on Earth was. Miranda developed slowly, in the shade, almost secretly. Emily’s body changed seemingly overnight and it made damn sure the spotlight would be on her at all times. Her blonde hair was supplemented by breasts that bordered on the obscene, a waist that looked more symbolic than functional, a butt that could inspire a thousand hit songs. How could she expect not to be the center of attention? Had she asked for it? No. Did she like it? She didn’t know. It was what it was. What it always had been.

That’s when she knew she existed to hold that light, to keep eyes on her and away from her sister. Maybe, in another world, she could have been anything she wanted. In a world with Miranda in it, she could only be the thing that brought balance. Miranda kept her head down and ignored boys; Emily kept her head high and flirted with them. Miranda never went to parties; Emily was MIA from home every weekend. Miranda indulged in no vices; Emily tried them all out.

It wouldn’t be bad if it had been her choice, but it wasn’t. Emily felt she simply needed to do all those things. Keep the balance. And so her life’s path was set, and she resented her sister for it.

While Miranda went to college to become a teacher, Emily took on odd jobs. Their parents could only afford to send one daughter to college, and Miranda was the obvious choice. Emily had known this forever, and so she had never expected anything else. It would have been nice if the issue had been addressed at the very least; but it wasn’t. It was, like all things, a given. A command from above, from a world that demanded equilibrium. So of course the airheaded slutty daughter didn’t get a chance. Fine. Emily got her own apartment, courtesy of a very nice, very wealthy sugar daddy. While Miranda studied, Emily grew her audience online. She started with technically safe for work videos of her dancing and doing cosplay. Miranda watched her grades come in, Emily watched her subscriber numbers grow. When she was ready, Miranda graduated and went into teaching. When her following was thirsty and devoted enough, Emily went into independent porn. It simply made sense: Miranda seeked to stimulate kids’ minds; Emily to stimulate adults’ bodies.

The more Miranda struggled with her overwork and meager salary, the more Emily was showered with donations, subscriptions and gifts. The more the students ignored Miranda, the more Emily’s followers became slavish, devoted members of a small cult of personality. The more Miranda worked, the easier life got for Emily.

Was she happy? She couldn’t say. She was just following a path laid in front of her, unknowingly, by her big sister. Freedom was a requirement for happiness: in that sense, no, Emily wasn’t happy because she wasn’t free. She was tethered to her mousy sister by an invisible thread. She hated her, but had to hide it. They kept in touch, and Emily listened to Miranda whine and complain… and heard the silent reproach of her lifestyle, felt the weight of her sister’s judgment. Only once had the issue of Emily’s work been mentioned, and only in the context of Miranda’s fear that a student would learn that the e-girl bouncing on a huge dildo on camera was, in fact, his teacher’s sister. Emily had assured Miranda that no one would ever find out her real name, a statement that she damn well knew was a lie. Get big enough and the online detectives will find out everything about you… and Emily secretly longed for the day when that would happen.

It started as a strange sensation… something was off. Something was unbalanced. She couldn’t quite place it, but she knew it had something to do with Miranda. Emily found it harder to get in the zone, to let go and slut it up for her followers. It felt… excessive, as if there was enough sluttiness in the world already. She rejected the idea that her sister was being a slut out of hand. Miranda could never do that. The woman felt guilty for rubbing to the most vanilla shit. Still, something was wrong.

It was then that Emily realized she hadn’t talked to her sister in a while. She called. No answer. Two days later, she tried again. Nothing. Another week, and once again, nothing.

And so, she worried.

It took her a whole week to accept the fact that she was worried, and two more to act on it. She wanted to kick herself every step of the way to her sister’s apartment. The bitch had been her constant source of torment, and now Emily was worried about her? Such bullshit. She cursed as she opened the building door with the key Miranda had given her in case of emergency. She didn’t so much knock at the apartment door as slammed it with her fist. Bitch better be dead or Emily would kill her with her own hands.

Then the door opened.

Holy. Shit.

No wonder the balance seemed out of whack, thought Emily as she stared at the plastic, busty fuckdoll that had once been her sister.

It was difficult to reconcile the image she had of her sister with the… person in front of her. There were shared features, of course. A general shape of the face, the hue of her eyes… but other than that, the Miranda she knew was pretty much missing in action. The shock was such that it took Emily a second to appreciate the reason she could stare so blatantly at the living sexdoll, which was the rather bizarre fact that Miranda had not noticed her little sister. It was understandable, given that she was drooling and bouncing on a huge, chair-mounted dildo: an activity that clearly preoccupied her and required her full attention.

“What the fuck?”, was all Emily could muster.

“Oh, hi!” said the cheerful, bouncing girl. Emily looked deep into her eyes. There was something very, very wrong there. A lack of recognition. If anything, Miranda’s expression told a tale of welcoming surprise, curiosity and, Emily hated to admit, unconcealed desire.

“Miranda?”

The name seemed to shake something loose inside the bimbo, some half-forgotten dream, before she snapped back into her vapid, lustful glare.

“No, silly, I’m Holly!”

For a second Emily questioned her sanity. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe this woman was some person named Holly who just happened to look a bit like her sister. And had moved into her sister’s apartment. And had the same little birthmark on her hip that her sister had. No. As impossible as it seemed, this woman was, or had been, Miranda Daniels.

“What the fuck happened to you?! What the hell are you doing? Stop riding that plastic cock for a goddamn second and…”

“I’m not going to stop, dummy! Master told me I had a full hour of fun bouncy!”

Oh fuck. Master. A “master”. Things were starting to click. Somehow, at some point, Miranda had gotten involved with… a cult or something? A weird sex group? Online hypno? Emily knew about all kinds of messed up things. It came with the territory, being both a sex worker and terminally online for a living. Shit, she had made hypno content herself, filmed her edging while listening to audios submitted by her viewers. She didn’t believe hypno could do all the stuff people fantasized it could do, but that shoot had made her feel… fuzzy. Confused. So there was something there. And if it had affected a seasoned online kink maker like her…

“Miranda, listen to me. Tell me, did anyone send you anything? Say, audio files of some kind?”

Miranda’s eyes lit up.

“Oh, I love the audios! They make me better. They make me wetter. Wetter is better, so I edge and listen. Edge and listen. Edge and listen…”

She was dropping. Right then and there, in front of Emily, Miranda was falling into a horny, dazed trance just at the mention of audios. Whoever “Master” was, he had done a number on the poor, unsuspecting teacher. And Emily hated the fact that a part of her felt a degree of satisfaction seeing the self-righteous bitch brought so low… She had made Emily feel like shit for being a slut and now… fuck, this might be the closest they had been in years, in a strange way. No. She shut that part of herself down, along with the smaller, wicked voice that suggested ideas to use this new information. She had to save Miranda.

“I edge and go deeper and deeper… deeper and deeper… I obey. Obedience makes my cunt wet. My cunt controls me. Takes me deeper and deeper…”

Fuck, it was hot to watch, though. No, get a grip. This is your sister, Emily. Your busty, slutty, brainwashed sister. Emily had to take a deep breath and remember not to think about the numbers a sister on sister online show would do.

2 - God’s Plan

Nati felt as if she was being tortured, and not in a fun way. The bus ride seemed to stretch into infinity, and the only thing keeping her sane was knowing she was doing Master’s bidding. Six hours. Six hours dressed like a goddamn prude, her crucifix proudly on display, her beautiful ass concealed by a long, unflattering skirt. She had edged in the cramped toilet three times, and she was only halfway there. Every inch of her screamed for her to let loose, to make everyone watch her as she shoved that silly crucifix right inside her tight little asshole, to make every cock stiff and hard and every pussy wet… but she couldn’t. She was on a mission. She was dressed to see her Mamá.

It was such a strange feeling, like having two lives inside her. Master had allowed her to… remember who she had been before. Mariana. That had been her name, a lifetime ago. Now she had to wear it as a costume. It came naturally to her: talking the way she used to, walking the way she used to, to a degree even thinking the way she used to. But at the same time Nati was still Nati, the real person, the one Master had revealed within herself, and so Nati watched Mariana and felt disgust and shame at ever having been that woman. It was part of Master’s plan, she reminded herself. A very special plan.

Three hours and two edges later, the bus finally arrived. Home. Or what had been Mariana’s home, anyway. She made sure to retrieve her luggage: the tools for the job were stashed there, hidden under piles of boring clothes… and a few fun outfits. She walked through the bus station and felt invisible. If only the people knew what she truly was, what she could do, what she could make them feel…

Mamá was waiting for her by the door of the bus station, as she always did in her trips home. Suddenly, Mariana saw her mother for the first time. She saw her with Nati’s eyes.

Before her stood a woman, and with her an entire history etched in her movements, her face, her clothes, her eyes. Sure, many things Mariana had known already, but now Nati could fill in what had been blind spots. A young mother, barely fourty: knocked up as a teenager, whoever she had been erased by the life inside her, whatever dreams she held cast aside. Despair and guilt, shame and the fingers of chattering fools pointing at her. Slut. Whore. Sinner. In that crucible, she turns to God. The priest offers salvation. Acceptance. The welcoming arms of orthodoxy. She changes everything about herself, longing to cast away a reputation earned by the simple act of enjoying her sexuality, and so sex becomes a dirty word. She covers up, and yet… And yet her ass is still there, still visible, still drawing in the eyes of men. She likes that, and hates that she likes that. She feels ashamed of how it makes her feel, and doubly so because she still sins with herself by night, dreaming of who she was, who she could have become. She makes up for it during the day by making sure her daughter will never, ever fall into the path of wickedness.

Kinder eyes might pity this woman. Nati’s eyes are seeing weaknesses. Fault Lines. Entry points. In a flash, she reverts to Mariana’s innocent, loving smile.

“Mamá!”

Arms outstretched for a big hug.

“Mija! What happened to you? Are you eating? Are you okay?”

“Mamá, what do you mean?”

“You’re so thin! Did you join a gym? You know I don’t like those places, mija. The men…”

“Mamá, I’m okay! And no, I didn’t join a gym. I guess I’m walking more than before, and eating a bit healthier”

Mariana scanned her mother for signs of suspicion. Walking and a new diet was a flimsy excuse, but the dour outfit should do a good job hiding her shapely new figure. For what it was worth, she hadn’t lied: she didn’t work out at a gym. She did train with her sister slave to get their bodies in top shape to please Master and endure hours and hours of use. That would make anyone develop a certain… physique. Not to mention… other physical changes.

The drive was a horrifying experience, and not just because of the barrage of questions and sermons delivered with machinegun-like rate of fire by Mamá. What was scary was how easily Nati had embodied Mariana, that stupid girl she had once been. It was like muscle memory, and something Nati had hoped she had lost, even as she gloried in the fact that her charade advanced Master’s plans. That was all that kept her going, all that mattered. She rehearsed every step in her head, even as she knew she would… improvise a bit.

Entering her childhood room was a bizarre experience. She remembered it, of course. Master had unlocked those memories. Still, they felt so alien, so distant, like a half-remembered and not particularly interesting movie. No posters on the walls, no secret diary hidden in a locked drawer (locking a drawer would be an affront to Mamá), no stashed love letters. Only the faraway recollection of a few secret grindings with the pillow had any resemblance to what she now understood as a normal adolescence. She couldn’t help but to feel anger at her mother, at how she had robbed her of so many years, made her see herself as lesser, as a sinner, as… No. Not her. Mariana. But Mariana was gone, Nati reminded herself. Mariana was but a costume woven out of a person that didn’t exist anymore. Still, revenge would be sweet. She knew Master didn’t see it that way, and Master’s will would be done, but that didn’t mean Nati couldn’t approach her task with some righteous fury in her heart.

She put her suitcase on the bed and opened it. Mariana’s boring, baggy clothes. Under them, a few of Nati’s outfits. Those would have to wait. Beneath it all, the tools. Tape. Syringes. VR goggles, with preloaded content. A remote-controlled clit vibe. Vibrating anal egg. Double sided dildo…

“Mariana! Come down, I made you empanadas!”

Nati smiled.

“In a moment, Mamá”

As she walked down the stairs, Nati felt sick at the prospect of pretending to be that sanctimonious, boring, mistaken girl she had once been. It was her walk to Golgotha, and only the image of her own true God, of his power and his cock, gave her the strength to keep up the charade.

Nati let Mariana take control, somewhat. The conversation was infuriating and asinine, with her mother expressing worry about Mariana’s life in the city, about the dangers there to her life, safety, and most importantly, soul. Nati fumed, well aware of her mother’s real fears. She didn’t care about God or a soul or the afterlife. She cared about her damned reputation. How had she never seen it before? The town teen slut, saved by the grace of Jesus… but people don’t forget easily. Should her daughter’s honor be put in question, all tongues would waggle about her own past. Like mother, like daughter… Well, what else could be expected, after all she had once been… People don’t really change, do they?

It had never been about Mariana. The mother had warped the daughter, cut off all pleasure, hid her true purpose, just to protect her own fragile, meaningless reputation in a nowhere town. Nati felt sick with rage, even as Mariana smiled and went about the dinner like the good, chaste girl she was.

Yes, Nati would act according to Master’s plan. But now there was something else driving her. Dear, dear Mamá deserved to face divine retribution.

3 - Ambivalence

Well, this was fucked up.

For a day, Emily had just watched her sister. Trying to assess the situation, she had told herself before giving up the charade and admitting that new Miranda was, simply put… fun. Fun and hot as fuck. And happy!

That was the strangest thing. Emily wasn’t used to being around happy people (in fact, as a rule, she considered all happiness performance, to a degree) and she sure as shit wasn’t used to seeing the Queen of Resentment herself smiling and giggling and just generally enjoying herself, but she simply was, well, loving every second, living in the moment, free from worry and free from judgment.

Now, Emily had a well-articulated argument in her head to justify her inaction. It went a little like: “It’s true that I should help my sister, but she seems to be truly happy now; even if that joy is the product of some Master’s brainwashing, is it not a real feeling? What right do I have to take this away from her, even if I don’t approve of her submission?” It was a very handy rationalization that allowed her not to consider too deeply the truth that her new sister was sexy and alluring and that watching her perform for the camera (who was on the other side? Her Master? Clients?) made Emliy’s pussy gush. And when she rubbed herself in the corner as her sister edged and sucked on a dildo and wrote “mindfucked cunt” on her huge tits, the idea that Miranda was happy and approved of anyone masturbating to her certainly managed to tamper any moral misgivings.

It was on her third day visiting her sister that Miranda bounced into her room in the morning and attacked Emily with an attempted hug, foiled by the size of her enhanced breasts.

“Sis! Sis! Master wants to talk with you!”

Emily snapped awake at once.

“Fuck… wait, did you tell him about me?”

“Of course, dummy! How could I have a new yummy slut in my apartment and not tell Master? Duh!”

“Okay, first, I’m your fucking sister, not a… yummy slut!”

Miranda tilted her head, puzzled.

“But you are yummy! And you rubbed your pussy like a slut looking at me! So you’re a yummy slut, silly”

Fuck. Brainwashed bimbo had a point.

“What does he want with me?”

“I dunno. But you have to hurry up! He will be online in an hour and you have to look good for him!”

“Oh, fuck that”

Miranda’s eyes grew into plates. She looked hurt, and upset. Maybe even a bit angry. It was odd, like watching a puppy after you accidentally stepped on its tail.

“Master is the bestest… and he makes me happy… and I want him to see how cute my sis is! I’m sure he’d love it if you dressed nice and put on your makeup and…”

“Fine! Fine. Will you get off me now?”

Emily did her best to sound annoyed at her sister’s affection. Hopefully that would hide the fact that she was desperately trying not to taste those lips, bury herself between those big fucking tits, cross a line that she was not ready to cross.

Coffee. Coffee would make things clearer. Emily walked to the kitchen, trying to figure out why her heart was racing. Was it having the chance to confront the man who had ruined (or, perhaps, improved) his sister? Was it the opportunity to get to the bottom of it all and enact the revenge she knew, as a sister, she was bound to enforce? Or was it something else? Fuck, it was too early in the day for such thoughts. How the hell did Miranda have the pep and energy to be a giggly, happy bimbo first thing in the morning? Emily prepared the mediocre instant coffee, having discovered her sister was too edged and dumb to buy, let alone prepare, real coffee. Well, better than nothing.

“Hurry up! Only, like… forty-five? I think it’s forty-five… whatever, we have less time now!”

Oh for fuck’s sake. Fine, better to play along for now, if only to get access to this so-called Master, she told herself. If she were a tad more honest, she would have admitted to herself that the way she tried different outfits and modeled them to the mirror, the care with which she applied her makeup, the soft, constant warmth between her legs… they had little to do with saving anyone. She pushed the feelings down. Her sister had been brainwashed: what excuse did Emily have? No one was forcing her to wear her leather corset, or her black choker with a ring in the middle. No evil mastermind led her hand as she applied winged eyelashes and a seductive, dark red lipstick. No voice in her heard was making her wetter and wetter. That was all her. Oh, what the hell. She never said she wasn’t a slut.

The camera light went on. Miranda’s eyes lit up like she was a puppy watching her owner come home, and held Emily tight.

“Master! Look at her! Didn’t I tell you she was just delicious?”

Leave us alone, Toy. Go edge in your room.

Text? This motherfucker had done everything via text? Emily frowned as Miranda pouted before being overcome by the compulsion to obey and the pleasure associated with it. She sprinted to her room, her cunt gushing.

Why are you here?

“Well, you sick fuck, I don’t know. Maybe to save my sister from some internet rando with delusions of grandeur?”

I wouldn’t call them delusions, considering the result. Furthermore, does she look like she needs or wants to be saved?

Shit. He had honed into her ambivalence like a bloodhound.

“How did you do it?”, she asked, hoping to change the subject.

Why is that important? What matters is that she is happy now. Do you resent her joy?

“It’s not… that. What about her job? Her friends?”

She hated her job and was quite bad at it. And she didn’t have any friends. Now she has many, and she loves what she does.

“What? Performing for strangers online? Letting you keep all the money? Whoring herself on camera?”

Isn’t that your job as well?

“It’s not the same thing, asshole! I do it for myself, keep myself fed and comfortable by myself!”

And so does your sister. Every penny she makes goes to her. I send her food, and clothes, and toys. I pay her rent and utilities. I make sure she has no concerns in this life other than her own happiness.

“But you made her do it!”

It’s not so simple. Do you truly believe I could have changed her so much if she didn’t want me to, deep down? Do you think I am some sort of super powerful villain? Grow up. You are smarter than this. Or is your judgment clouded by jealousy?

“Fuck you”

You are a professional. Let me ask you, in your objective view, how good is your sister at being a little slut online? How hot are her shows?

God damn him. She shouldn’t even answer, but Emily was not one to shy away from reality, and besides… why the fuck was this conversation with a goddamn text box making her so… needy and wet?

“She’s good! Fine! She’s fucking good at it!”

But you know what would make her streams even better.

Of course she knew. It was the most obvious calculation.

I just want your honest, professional assessment.

Emily felt her mind sliding into her sex worker self, the part that studied and analyzed patterns, markets, kinks. She knew she should just shut up, close the chat. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“She’s doing great with solo work, and probably could keep a big enough audience to keep being a solo act, but she’ll soon hit a limit where she won’t be able to grow. If she wants more than what she has, she will have to branch out, work with someone else, male or female. If male, he should never show his face, and be only a cock to use her. If female, she needs to be versatile, able to be a hard domme to her or a fellow subby slut, depending on the day. A contrast in aesthetics would be useful, and she would need to be a great performer to push Miranda to greater heights of kink”

You do realize you are describing yourself, right?

“I know! I fucking know, okay? Us working together would be fucking awesome and make a ton of money! Is that what you wanted to hear, you asshole?”

But how would you feel… working with her?

“Don’t… don’t make me say it”

Scared? Why?

“Because it’s not right”

What isn’t right?

“To want it this much! Fuck you! Yes, I look at her with her eager bimbo eyes and her huge tits and every cell in my body wants to kiss her and ride her face and make her eat my cunt like a little bitch! And… and I just imagine how fucking hot we’d look together on camera, a double dildo between us, feeling each other’s movements as we fuck each other silly! I want it! But I can’t have it! She’s my sister! I… wouldn’t be able to do it, no matter how amazing it might feel, how much I need to feel her…”

I can help you with that.

“Oh no. I won’t let you do… whatever it is you did to my sister. I like being me! I’m not looking to become a mindless bimbo for you, thank you very much!”

How about a deal?

“A deal?”

Give me a chance. I’ll make you happier, but still yourself. I’ll make you a better you, one less shackled by old morality. One that can act on those desires. In exchange…”

Emily was stating her answer before the full text was even on the screen. Granted, she wasn’t thinking with her brain at that point, as soaked fingers had slid under her pants without her even realizing it.

“Make me better”

To be continued...

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starsfic · 10 months ago

Text

Aftermath

Summary:

The aftermath of that night leaves Mike to get involved with the Afton family even more, his father's own history with William Afton, and trying to handle harsh truths.

Notes:

Sorry if it gets a little messy, I wanted to get this finished before my birthday was over.

-_-

The moment the doors of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza swung shut, Mike barely managed to wrangle his phone out. He didn't use it often, but this was an emergency. "Abby," he gasped, feeling his bandaged wounds ache. "Abby..." He nearly stopped at those wide brown eyes.

She had been through so much. Too much since the moment their mom died.

But he was pretty sure he was about to faint, and he needed to make sure Vanessa was alright before he did that. He could feel her faintly breathe even as her yellow sweater grew red with blood. Why she pulled out the knife, he didn't know and didn't want to think about it. He needed to make sure help would come before he collapsed.

"Abby, I need you to call 911. Tell them we're-" Something screeched behind them. "Shit, shit, further into the parking lot-" Abby did as commanded, eventually helping him set Vanessa next down to her police car. He barely managed to pull his jacket off and fold it into a rough pillow shape so Vanessa’s head wasn’t lying on the cold ground. "I need you to call 911 and tell them…” Pain ripped through him and he hissed. “Tell them…that…that we need an ambulance. Tell them that we're at…Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, that there are…” How many? Him and Vanessa at least. “Two people are injured, and the attacker is inside the building." Probably dead, but hey.

"Okay... I got it." As Abby began to dial, Mike turned to Vanessa. Her hazy green eyes barely managed to meet his. For a moment, she smiled.

Was it out of relief that he and Abby were alright? Or was it out of relief that her father was finally gone? Before he could dare to ask, the smile slid off her face, and her eyes slid close.

Mike blinked.

When his eyes opened, he was staring at a white ceiling. Uncomfortable sheets pricked at his skin. He blinked again, and gold hair invaded his vision as someone leaned over the side. It wasn’t Vanessa’s blonde curls, though.

The blonde boy stared at him. Mike stared back.

"...he won't be able to hurt anyone else again." The boy said it so firmly that Mike almost believed him. "He'll suffer just like how he made others suffer." A hand reached out and patted his hand. It was the most human that the kid ever seemed to be, his face briefly scrunching up. Once again, he wasn't sure what emotion was on the blonde's face- anger or sadness. Or maybe just relief. "Vanessa will be fine. Rest now."

Mike blinked before he could answer.

Instead of the blonde boy, Abby stared at him.

"Mike?"

"Hey," he managed out, barely managing to reach out and sweep the hair out of her face. "Are we at the hospital?" The uncomfortable sheets were the same and so was the white ceiling.

Abby nodded, and he noticed that she had changed. Instead of her pink cloud sweater, she wore a blue jumper with Bonnie's face stitched over her heart. Mike had to shake off the image of young Vanessa, wearing a similar blue jumper and holding Garrett's plane, to focus instead. "The doctors said you were okay. You just had a really bad reaction to blood loss and the sleeping pills."

"And Vanessa?" He scoffed internally the moment he realized. Abby was just a kid. They wouldn't tell her. "Where did you get those clothes?" he asked instead.

"Fazbear Entertainment. Did you know Dad worked with Mr. Afton?" Abby continued on without pause. "And Vanessa's fine, but she's in a coma. I got to say hi to her."

Mike blinked again. His dad had…what? Confusion ate at his brain, demanding that he focus on that part. He shook it off. He could handle that later. “Vanessa’s in a coma? Where’s Aunt Jane?” He expected to see her looming behind Abby, holding her shoulder possessively tight. Instead, there was nobody except an unfamiliar woman, sitting outside. She looked up, meeting his eyes, and smiled and waved.

Damn, Jane couldn’t even visit him in the hospital?

Abby nodded. “The doctor said that she was really hurt, but that she was stable.” Anger and unease filled her eyes. “When Cassie came to get me, he said she was sleeping. She wasn’t sleeping.”

Faced with that news, Mike could only lie back down. His anger at her was still there, but shock was quickly replacing that.

“Fuck.”

-_-

"Okay, sir. We just need you to go over the day."

Mike had barely been released from the hospital when the cops came. To be fair, he was probably the best first suspect for Aunt Jane's murder- they never got along and were in a custody battle. Still, he couldn't help but lean forward, staring at the officers. One was older, wearing no name tag, while the other was younger with dark hair with a name tag reading Mark. "I didn't kill my aunt."

"Your sister was very vocal about that," Officer Mark said with an eye roll. "She nearly bit me when I asked if she thought you did it."

"Mark, hush." The lead officer turned back to him. "We believe you, sir. We just need to make sure there are people who can confirm that."

Mike sighed. He was tired and achy and still very confused. He had tried to talk to the doctor about his hospital bill, but apparently, Fazbear Entertainment had covered his medical bills already. He just wanted to get home and make sure Abby was okay with the weird woman who had introduced herself as Charlie Left, but he needed to just get through this. "Okay. I asked Aunt Jane-"

"What exactly was your relation to her?" Mark spoke up, writing something on a clipboard. "I mean, are you guys blood-related, or is she a family friend?" The two others stared at him, the lead officer's seat creaking under him as he turned. Mark shrugged. "Just making sure."

Yeah, right. Family friend. Everyone knew the Schmidt sisters hated each other. As far as he knew, the only reason Jane had ever moved to Hurricane was to bother his parents.

"She's my and Abby's aunt, our mom's older sister. And I would hardly call them friends. She once tried to sue my dad out of a thousand bucks because of a car accident that she caused and that he wasn't involved in, just because he refused to check on her car for free after a bunch of other bullshit." The chair creaked again as the lead officer stared at him. Mike raised his hands. "I'm just saying, my aunt was pretty open in private that she just wanted money, and that's all she really cared about. That was why I didn't want my sister in her custody." The officers nodded. "But I asked her to come babysit at six thirty in the morning, when I got back from my night shift and she got to my house around nine. She wanted to talk about Abby’s custody. I agreed to talk when I got back from work, and left the house at about nine…fifteen?"

From there, Mike continued. He detailed his visit to the pharmacy and strained his mind to remember the name of the guy who served him. From there, he got to the pizza place early. He didn't explain why beyond "working more hours." He didn't really want to explain the whole "ghost children" thing.

Mark looked bored. At the mention of Freddy's, Lead Officer perked up.

“I think I was attacked at midnight,” he said. “I escaped and… I think I managed to get outside. When I woke up, Van-” He shut his mouth and managed to shake his head. He needed to be formal. “Officer Shelly was patching me up at a police supply outpost, not too far from Freddy’s. I don’t remember the time.”

“Was the outpost the one on 3rd and 6th?”

“Yeah…” He couldn’t remember. He just remembered stumbling out to Vanessa’s car and driving down the road as fast as legally possible, trying to get to Abby. “Yeah, I think so. When I got there, my sister was there, and so was Mr. Afton.”

"Your sister said the same," Lead Officer said. "She said he attacked you?"

"Yeah. Officer Shelly gave me a stun gun because of the situation. I attempted to shock him, but he was wearing the Yellow Bunny suit?"

"The Spring Bonnie suit?"

It had a name? "Yeah, I guess? He attacked me after that..." He could feel those fists dig into his ribcage. But that wasn't compared to how his lungs clenched in horror as he remembered that yellow suit, one side ruined and one side whole, stalking out of the shadows. "He admitted to killing my brother, Garrett Schmidt, and said he wanted to kill me and Abby." He had acted like he wanted to complete a set, he realized now.

Hey, Vanessa! I have all three Schmidt trophies!

"That's not a surprise, he was a pretty big suspect on that case."

Once again, Mike found himself pausing. "Excuse me?"

"Please, continue." Lead Officer nodded as Mark scribbled something down. "What happened after that?"

How to explain stuff after that? Neither would believe the whole ghost stuff. "Officer Shelly showed up before he could stab me. She found and got Abby. She- Vanessa, I mean, tried to shoot Mr. Afton."

"And then?"

"And then he stabbed her." Mike's mouth was dry. The scream that wanted to come out when he saw that knife sink in clawed at his throat. He bit it back, saving it for when he got home and could scream into his pillow. "While that was happening, I tried to get the lights on to distract him. Abby...got away and managed to hide, and then, I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"What happened," Mike claimed. "He was screaming. These springlocks-" Lead Officer sighed, his brows furrowed together. "Were digging into him. Officer Shelly explained that there were some safety concerns about the springlocks when she dropped by one time, so I guessed that he did something to trigger them."

"According to your sister, a...cupcake attacked him?" Mark spoke up again. "Any explanation about that?"

Mike shrugged. "The animatronics were gathering around, and Abby was always freaked out by the cupcake." That was a lie, but he was freaked out about the cupcake.

Lead Officer nodded. "The animatronics were programmed with first aid knowledge," he said. "Makes sense. If a guy was screaming and bleeding everywhere, I would try to help." He hummed, pursing his lips as he stared at whatever papers he was looking at. "But they always did act weird around adults after the disappearances in the 80s..."

In a gesture that he felt like he was repeating over and over again, Mike shrugged. "I guess? All I know is that he was writhing in pain and the building started collapsing," Mike was scribbling furiously on the clipboard. "Me and Abby got Vanessa and got her out. I got Abby to call an ambulance while I tried to get Vanessa comfortable. And then I woke up in the hospital." After that, Fazbear Entertainment had sent him a check for a full week's pay and what seemed like a bonus. (Or Mr. Afton had given him a way lower number for pay.) Him and Abby were secured for a while. “I only heard about Aunt Jane when I woke up in the hospital.”

The silence drew again.

"Okay," Lead Officer said finally, looking up from the papers. "This matches up with what your sister said. Mostly." Mike raised a brow. "According to her, Fredbear attacked your aunt and brought her to Freddy Fazbear's in a taxi, where Chica tried to stuff her in a spring lock suit in the back room, and the animatronics attacked you." He spread his hands. "Granted, she is a child who has gone through a very unfortunate experience, so..." He sighed, clapping his hands together. "I have to be very frank with you, Mr. Schmidt-Emily." He barely bit back the retort that it was just Schmidt before the lead officer leaned back. "Mr. Afton has been a suspect for a long time."

The words sank in.

"What?"

The lead officer nodded. "Yes. I think he thought he was the smartest man alive, so he slipped up, several times, and got a few people suspicious. However, there was never solid enough evidence." A smile lit up the man's face. "Until you came along."

Mike blinked and barely managed a nod. "Okay...what happened?" He probably should've been more focused on moving the conversation to him getting out, but his curiosity tugged at him. "I mean, what evidence did you have?"

Officer Mark opened his mouth. "That's not-"

"It's okay, Mark. He's involved with the case, he has a right to know." The lead officer reached over and pulled out a file. Mike had to bite back a swear- it was thick, thick enough that there was a loud thump when it hit the table. "I'm going to have to start at the beginning for this to make sense, if that's alright."

"...yeah...Yeah. Alright."

Once again, the story started in the 80s, on the birthday of a familiar blonde boy.

"His name was Cassidy Afton," Lead Officer explained, tapping his photo. It seemed to be taken from a family photo since a hand was on the shoulder, and he could see the shoulder of a familiar blue jumpsuit pressed against a striped shirt. "And he was murdered by his brother, Michael Afton."

Not intentionally, of course. However, Michael had a long history of bullying his younger brother at school and possibly a longer history at home. It had been chalked up to "boys will be boys" until Cassidy Afton's birthday had happened.

Mike nearly threw up at the picture. He had been warned about the gore, of course, but that didn’t compare to the shock. That blonde boy, once solemnly staring, was now trapped in the jaws of a bear-shaped animatronic, except it wasn't Freddy. The color was different. It helped keep his eyes away from that face, still stricken with tears. "Apparently, despite having an accident with spring locks, Mr. Afton still used them, including in Fredbear. Michael and his friends pushed him up to give him a big kiss, and down went the jaws."

Cassidy had died in the hospital a week later.

Mike had gotten frustrated with Abby before- when she didn't eat, when she didn't give him back the stuff she borrowed without a struggle, when she refused to get ready for school- but he could never think of doing something like that to her or Garrett. Apparently, according to the mugshots, neither did the four teenagers. Michael Afton looked especially sick in his blood-splattered clothes. "What happened to them?"

"Well, it was an accident. None of them were charged with any crime."

"Mr. Afton was pissed about it," Mark said. "He started a whole campaign to get them all arrested, and when that didn't work, he threatened their families."

Dots started to connect. "Were the missing kids...?"

The lead officer was already moving pictures into place. "Susie Franklin was the younger sister of Moses Franklin. Fritz Lorde was the cousin of Asher Cormac, and Gabriel was Asher's younger brother. Jeremy Fitzgerald was the nephew of Aaron Fitzgerald." The lead officer shrugged at Mike's questioning look. "Age gap. It didn't matter. Mr. Afton was known to make violent threats against the families and once punched Asher Cormac in the face."

Mark spoke up again. "We have a whole cabinet because of the amount of threats he made." He smiled as if this was just a regular conversation over dinner. “My favorite was when he threatened to sic a bear on them.”

Lead Officer waved him off. “Basically, he was the prime suspect when they disappeared. However, there was no evidence in the restaurant and in the house of any foul play. All we had were threats of harm.”

“They were in the suits.” The words just… came out. “He admitted to putting them in the suits.” William hadn’t, Vanessa had, but something in him just needed to protect her. “He was going to stuff Abby in a suit, one in the back room.”

Silence.

Lead Officer and Mark both stared at him, wide-eyed. Mike barely resisted a gulp. He wasn’t sure why he spoke up. They had just needed to be said. The silence was finally broken when Lead Officer swore, softly but with emotion. “The restaurant shut down after the animatronics started smelling…” he mumbled, seeming more to himself than any of the others. “Mr. Afton claimed he was fixing the issue before the restaurant closed.”

Mike nodded and chose to ignore that. "So...you also said it wasn't a surprise to hear that he might've kidnapped my brother." Abby’s words were drifting through his mind. Did you know Dad worked with Mr. Afton?

"Your father is Henry Emily, correct?" Mike nodded. "I'm surprised you don't remember. Henry Emily and William Afton created Fazbear Entertainment together and records showed you were at Cassidy Afton's birthday party."

He didn't remember.

Vanessa would've said something, right? About them growing up together? Except she hadn't said a word about Garrett even when she found out.

But why?

“Did my father help kill people?”

"No, no, believe me. Mr. Emily has reported Mr. Afton multiple times for suspicious behavior." Lead Officer said. "It started off as worries of self harm after Mrs. Afton..." Unease passed his face. "Passed away-"

"Slit her wrists!"

"Officer Mark, shut up."

"Shutting up."

"Anyway, Mr. Emily had worries about Mr. Afton's mental health and reported multiple times his concerns about attempted suicides." Lead Officer's brows furrowed. "However, he started to report concerns of strange behavior, including signs of harm on some of his children."

"Including Vanessa?" He was forgetting to put distance between them, but it didn't matter. Vanessa was important to him- not in the same way as Abby was, but she was important. He needed to know how William Afton had hurt her.

The lead officer nodded. "Yes. Michael Afton, the eldest of the family, was supposedly the worst receiver, but Vanessa Afton also received it." He took in a deep breath and let it out. The lights flickered, as though presenting a spotlight on the tragedy of the Afton family. "It got worse after the tragedy-"

"The Bite of '87!"

"Mark, it was 1983, and shut up!" Mike felt himself lean back at the yell, same as Mark. Lead Officer turned back to Mike. "From what I know, your father threatened to take custody of both Vanessa and Michael from Mr. Afton," Lead Officer stared down at the picture of Vanessa, now comatose in bed, with a sad expression. "Mainly Vanessa, since Michael was nearly an adult."

"And, again, Mr. Afton started up the threats."

"And he started up the threats, to the point where Mr. Emily was recommended to leave town for a little while until custody was hammered out."

Dots again were sliding into place.

Mike had always focused on Garrett being kidnapped, his little face as he looked out the window, holding the plane that became a serial killer's trophy. But other dots were coming into place.

His dad had jumped the trip to Nebraska on them so suddenly. One day, Mike was talking about the lack of plans for summer break, and the next day, they were talking about Nebraska. He knew his mom had family there, but there had been no real other reason. Right?

Right?

-_-

The next day was quiet.

Abby, thankfully, wasn't resistant to going to school after a day of rest. Mike wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Charlie had recommended that both of them go to therapy before she left to go do...whatever her job was when it wasn't babysitting. He probably should keep that in mind.

Thankfully, it seemed that the police didn't suspect him of murdering their aunt, but he had to go to trial anyway to figure out what happened. For now, however, he was just told to stay in town.

Which, of course, he would.

The hospital, thankfully, didn't raise a brow when he and Abby came in to see Vanessa. However, he did pause at the sight outside. For once, the space outside Vanessa’s room was crowded.

There were three people- a redhead in a purple dress and a hideous green jacket, a smaller girl in red overalls and glasses, and a blonde man in a matching hideous green jacket- and a Great Dane. He looked down at a gasp and barely bit back a chuckle at Abby’s sparkling eyes. She had always loved dogs, although the animals had recently hit fifth on the favorite animals list. The blonde looked up and stepped forward.

This revealed that, no, there were actually four people-

Blue eyes met his.

Oh no, he’s back he’s back I need to get Abby- I need to get Vanessa-

"Mikey?"

Michael Afton, because this had to be him, had stood. He was reaching forward, those blue eyes wide. "I...I can't believe this!" A smile grew across his face. "It's been so long."

He knew him. They actually knew each other.

"I don't remember you."

He probably could've said that better.

Michael's smile faded and his hand lowered. "Oh." He tucked his hand inside his pockets. “Oh. Okay. Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean- I mean, I heard Vanessa had gotten stabbed and you were involved-” He came to a stop, took in a breath, and relaxed. “Like, sorry. It’s been a while.” He held out his hand again. “Michael. I’m Michael Afton, but I go by Shaggy.”

"Uh, hi." Mike eyed the hand. "I'm Mike."

"I'm Abby!" And, much to his surprise, his sister actually took Michael's hand and shook it. "What's your dog's name?"

Michael blinked as if expecting a different answer. "Oh! Uh, like, this is Scooby-Doo!" The Great Dane plodded forward, sitting next to Michael. "He helps me with problems, you know?"

"Can I pet him?"

"Like, yeah! Scooby loves pets!"

"And Scooby snacks," the small girl said as Abby began to pet the dog. "If you don't mind, we can show her?" It took a moment to realize she was asking him. "Fred and Daphne can get food?"

The man and tall woman nodded. "Sure, Velma!" "Yeah!"

Mike nodded. "Sure." He glanced at Vanessa's room, and Michael nodded back. As the smaller woman, Velma, started instructing Abby on how to give Scooby-Doo a treat, the two Mikes walked into the hospital room.

Like every time he had visited before, Vanessa was still lying there, washed out under the hospital lights. Mike, for once, hung back. Michael walked forward to stand at her side. He could see tears beading up as he reached out, pushing some blonde curls out of her face. "Hey, Ness," he finally said. "Sorry it took so long for me to come."

Was Michael remembering Cassidy, lying in his hospital bed?

"Did...how did Cassidy react to this?" Michael didn't look at him. "I can't imagine he took this rather well. He nearly destroyed the entire Parts and Services area when Elizabeth passed away."

"You know about the ghosts?"

Michael nodded. "Cassidy started haunting Fredbear and managed to get Father's attention." He sighed, his hand moving down to squeeze Vanessa's hand. "After that, Father was obsessed with ghosts. Maybe it started as a way to make sure Cassidy wasn't alone..." His face hardened. "But he killed us. He actually killed Vanessa's twin, you know? It was an accident, but it was because a machine he created."

That must've been who Elizabeth was.

Four siblings. Two children laid dead in a grave, but alive in spirit. Two children were still alive, but dead in spirit. It was almost poetic, but it also made him sick.

"He talked to me, a few times." Mike had to admit it, just like in the interrogation room when it came to the suits. Michael looked up, quirking a brow. "Cassidy. I think he talked to Abby too, she's talked to all the kids."

Michael nodded. "He's never spoken to me." He chuckled, his shoulders hunching up. "I can't blame him. Elizabeth never saw him, but Vanessa saw him a lot. She used to take care of him a lot."

"She did?"

"Yeah. Cass used to have a lot of nightmares but was too scared to walk down the hallway alone to Father." Mike couldn't imagine that of the cold kid who so calmly asked for Abby. Maybe death changed people. "So he always asked Ness to walk him through the house."

A thought tugged at him. "Did we get along?"

Michael shook his head. "You were always hanging out with Vanessa and Elizabeth." He paused, as if thinking. "I mean, Elizabeth would make you guys hang out with her. Garrett was too little." He paused and seemed to think some more. "I remember," Michael nodded along with the thought. "We would all go to your house and your mom would babysit us until Father could come pick us up." A faint smile tugged on his lips. "She used to make these amazing cookies with these exotic butter baskets you guys would get every month."

"...it sounds nice."

Faintly, something tugged at his mind.

Cold ice cream in his face, a blonde smiling as she held her own mint cone. "C'mon, Mikey," Her voice was quiet. "Eat your ice cream before Lizzie comes back from ballet.”

Lizzie always threw a fit when they ate ice cream without her.

Mike wished he knew more.

-_-

"Doug Sullivan, if you could please take the stand?"

Neither the judge nor the prosecutor looked surprised to see Aunt Jane's sweaty lawyer take the stand, but Mike sure was. Honestly, he had expected to see Doug in court, but not as a witness. His shocked stare must've been recognized because Doug flashed him a shaky smile before sitting down.

"Doug Sullivan," his lawyer, paid for by Fazbear Entertainment, said, stepping forward. "Could you tell us what happened..." There was a shuffle of papers. "The week before Ms. Schmidt's death?"

Doug nodded, but his shaking had stopped. "I can. Ms. Schmidt wanted custody of Miss Schmidt. She had served Mr. Schmidt with the papers to sue for custody. However, she was intending to sabotage Mr. Schmidt. She first started by hiring Maxine Sterling to spy on Mr. Schmidt."

Wait. What.

Doug continued, explaining that Max had been hired to keep an eye on him and Abby and find any possible evidence that could take Abby out of his custody. Mike had to bite down the urge to throw something, allowing his hands to fist up tight instead. In retrospect, Max had been too perfect, too convenient- a babysitter looking for work and was happy enough with the meager pay?

Still, he couldn't bring himself to be angry at Max.

"The waiter, Ness I think his name was, can confirm that Mr. Sterling suggested to just kill Mr. Schmidt, but..." Doug let out a breath. "My client refused, possibly because she thought she would be the first suspect. Instead, Miss Sterling mentioned Mr. Schmidt's new job, and Mr. Sterling suggested..." Doug looked steadier now, as though he was regaining confidence with every admittance. "I believe the words he used was "mess up the place good."

Mike felt dots connect again in his mind.

Fuck, that was why Max had been there, in half, her blood staining the floor. Her eyes had been wide with surprise, even glazed over in death.

Doug soon finished and the defense brought up the footage from the pharmacy and the visitor logs of the police outpost. It was enough for the judge to bang the gavel with “Not guilty!”

Outside had to be the most eye-searing van Mike had ever seen in light blue with green paint and neon orange flowers. On the side was MYSTERY MACHINE, but Mike's questions about that were distracted by the sight of Michael leaning against the van, the Great Dane visibly chilling in the driver's seat.

"Hey." Michael waved.

"...Hey." Mike looked around. It was just them. "Where are your friends?"

"My f...OH! Yeah, because they're definitely just my friends, yeah absolutely-" Michael's nervous chuckle soon faded. "They're getting a room in the motel. The hospital kicked us out because we'd been spending all day hovering in Vanessa's room. I heard you were on trial, so..." Michael shrugged. "Figured you wanted lunch or something."

It was...no, in fact, it was not a tempting offer. Call Mike a cynic, but he was still recovering from the lost trust he had placed in... a lot of people.

He had trusted Max to be a good babysitter. He had trusted Aunt Jane to follow the law. He had trusted Steve Raglan to find him a job. He had trusted Vanessa with... a lot of things.

"Sorry. Maybe next time. I..." Oh boy. "I'm going to call my dad and let him know what's going on."

Michael's eyes went wide, and his jaw flexed for a moment. And then he seemed to relax, nodding. "Okay. Tell him I said hello. He tried to do a lot for me and Vanessa."

Mike bit back a response that it seemed his dad had done much more for them than he had ever done for him or Abby.

They didn't deserve that, at least.

“I will.”

-_-

The phone rang. Once, twice, three times...normally, Mike would hang up by then, but he stayed there. His dad, now that he knew, had to know. He barely spoke to the man, only calling on Abby's birthday or the holidays, but there was a need biting under his skin.

Fourth ring. Fifth ring. Sixth-

"Hello? Mikey?" His dad sounded rough, like usual. Still, concern laced his voice like a good dad's voice. "What's wrong? You usually don't call me in the middle of the night-"

"William Afton's dead."

There was a pause, long enough that Mike was on the verge of assuming he hung up, before a quiet "What." broke through.

"I...Look, I lost another job, and Aunt Jane threatened to sue for custody of Abby-" His dad swore, but Mike pressed on. "He...he was my career counselor, and he got me the night guard position at Freddy's and-" A dam inside him, one that had begun to build ever since Vanessa was stabbed, since Aunt Jane gave him those dreaded papers, maybe even since he watched Garrett be driven away, broke. "Why..." His voice cracked as tears rolled down his cheeks. He would've been embarrassed, but it felt good to finally cry. "Why didn't you tell me that you knew what happened? He...he tried to kill me, Dad, he wanted to kill Abby, he stabbed Vanessa-"

"He stabbed Vanessa? Fuck...I...no, you're right, I should have..." He could hear shuffling, what sounded like a grunt, followed by a door opening and closing. "Hang on, Mikey, I'm coming." There was a pause, and Mike was allowed to let the words sink in. "I was trying to find a way to both stop him and free the children. I thought I found a lead on Garrett. But if Afton's dead, that changes things."

“...What?”

“I promise, Mike, I’ll be home soon, and then I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

#FNAF #Five Nights at Freddy's #FNAF Movie #Five Nights at Freddy's Movie #Scooby Doo #Mike Schmidt #Abby Schmidt #Michael Afton #Shaggy Rogers #Vanessa Shelly #Vanessa Afton #my writing

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