#like he could've told me he just didn't want to give me his number but nope
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pedroisghosties · 1 year ago
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I forgot to edit this with a funny story of a guy I had "something" with and how one day I brought up the topic of exchanging numbers so we could talk more and better since I hate Snapchat and the only excuse he could think of to change the topic (since he didn't want to give me his phone number) was to say that "I hope you don't take offense but I hate when you use y'all". I should've told him to fuck off right away but unfortunately I did it like a year later 💀
Reblog if you say "Y'all"
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hurtspideyparker · 5 months ago
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If Civil War didn't end in divorce and everyone lived together Part 2
Read Part 1 and Part 3
Tony: Why is Underoos mopping the ceiling?
Sam: Told him since he's sticky that's his chore
Bucky: It's only fair he helps out around the house
Tony: Hm. Makes sense
-
Vision cooked dinner:
Peter: *pushing around food to make it look eaten*
Natasha: *surreptitiously spitting into napkin*
Steve: *taking small bites with tons of water*
Bucky: *just stares at full plate*
Tony: Well this is disgusting, I'm ordering pizza
-
Sam: C'mon man stop moping around, you gotta get yourself a girl
Bucky: Ok.
Sam: Ok? Okayyyyy! I know-
Bucky: Give me your phone
Sam: Oh you got a number in mind already hotshot? *hands phone over*
Bucky: *ring* Hi Sarah ;)
Sam: BOY-
-
Peter: Ned thought you would seperate your colours from your lights but he also thought you'd be homophobic so I don't pay him much mind cuz clearly I'm more of a superhero expert than him but he does have a 2% better average than me in history so like maybe you do hand wash your clothes and that's why I asked what underwear you wear because-
Steve: *listening intently with apprehension and alarm*
Natasha: I can't believe you found the one person on Earth who talks more nonsense than you
Tony: I know right, it's incredibly unnerving. I'm planning on adopting him
-
Peter: Mr. Stark I have to tell you something. I think Vision is a... *whispers* pervert
Tony: Um, why?
Peter: He keeps floating through my room without knocking! He saw me changing, he saw my nipples !
Tony: Well if anyone's a predator here it would be you. I mean showing your nipples to a 2 year old? Deplorable.
Peter:
Peter: Oh god, I'm the pervert...
-
Bucky: Y'know animosity isn't good between teammates. I think we should spend more time together
Sam: Am I being punked right now? Where's the camera
Bucky: I'm serious. I think it would be healthy for us to bond
Sam: Okay fine I'll bite... what did you have in mind
Bucky: Wanna go for a run?
Sam: *slams door in Bucky's face*
-
*staring at Bucky's sparkly clean metal arm*
Bucky: Dishwasher?
Peter: Dishwasher :)
(later that day)
Bucky: I've decided to let the child live
Peter: YoU wHaT?!
-
Thwip
Tony: Who took my coffee cup, It was right here
Thwip
Bruce: Um, has someone seen my book? I just had it
Thwip
Steve: I could've sworn I was holding a pen a moment ago
*giggling from the ceiling*
Tony: Young man I will take those webshooters away if you use them for shenanigans and rascality
Peter, muffled: Mr. Hawkeye told me to!
Clint: Oh so you're just gonna rat me out like that?
Peter: Sor- OOF
*falls out of ceiling vent*
-
Sam: You're in my spot
Bucky: There are no spots, it's a common area
Sam: Well that's my spot
Bucky: Did you buy the chair??
Sam: No, but everyone knows that's where I sit. Right Steve?
Steve: Oops I forgot something in my car, be right back *leaves*
Sam: Still my spot
Bucky: Still not
Sam: *sits on him*
Bucky: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU ALL THE COUCHES ARE FREE-
Sam: IT'S MY SPOT YOU CAN'T TAKE A MAN'S FAVOURITE CHAIR-
BUCKY: YOU HAVE ISSUES GET OFF ME-
(one hour later)
Steve: Hey so turns out I don't have a car! Isn't that funn...
Sam & Bucky: *Squeezed awkwardly on the chair together*
Steve: I think I left something in my car
-
Steve: Leave the bedroom door open when you have Vision in there
Wanda: UGH you're so protective
Tony: Teenagers, am I right? Caught Pete reassembling my particle accelerator at midnight because he needed to neutralize a miniature nuclear bomb he nabbed off some guy he neglected to tell me was trying to kill him
Steve:
Steve: Wanda y'know what do whatever you want
Wanda: Really?
Steve: Yes just keep being normal. At least I can read about our issues in a parenting book
-
Thor: Ah, new warriors I see! Good to make all your acquaintance. But why are you so grumpy my friend?
Bucky: *glaring*
Peter: He's always like that. It's um, P- P- PMS? Wait -
Natasha: Yes it's PMS
Wanda: He's got it bad
Steve: *genuinely concerned* Bucky you didn't tell me something was wrong. What can I do to help?
Bucky:
Bucky: I like chocolate
-
Wanda: Welcome to the first annual girls night! This place reeks of men, so I thought we needed some women time
Pepper: Why is Vision here?
Wanda: I get sad when he's gone
Natasha: Why is Pietro here?
Pietro: Slay queens
Wanda: Moral support I think
Maria: Why is Peter here?
Wanda: He looked really upset when I said he wasn't included and I felt bad
Wanda: Anyways... yay girls! Who wants me to paint their nails?
Peter: ME ME ME
-
Steve: Pancakes or waffles?
Natasha: Pancakes
Steve: Good because I don't have a waffle maker
Natasha: Then why would you ask-
Steve: It's important for your voice to be heard, as team leader I value your opinion
*2 minutes later*
Steve: Good morning Clint, pancakes or waffles?
Clint: Waffles
Steve: Oh no.
-
Some of these were based on requests (ex. more Sam & Bucky, dad Steve w/ Wanda) so if you have certain dynamics you enjoy let me know !
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ggomos-maribat · 10 months ago
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Double Lives
Damian was certain that his wife was keeping a secret from him.
He trusted her with his life, of course—Marinette had kept a number of things from him in the earlier stages of their relationship, like her experience and trauma in Paris. He knew not to pry, and eventually she opened up. He was glad that some burden was taken off her shoulders.
But this was different. She was deliberately trying not to get caught; she took care to hide her phone from his view, and there were days she'd come home very late. When asked, she'd get irritable but also nervous around him. Damian didn't want to assume things right off the bat, but he did hope she would finally grow comfortable to talk it out with him. And so he resisted using his ‘resources’ to peek into her life—what kind of distrusting partner would he be if he did that?
He knew, too, that he was being awfully hypocritical. He was still yet to sit her down and reveal his vigilante alter ego to her as well as his family's. Damian would swear he planned to rip the bandaid off when they got engaged. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, out of the fear that she'd leave him. As far as he knew, Marinette wanted a normal quiet life after living through the Evil Butterfly Man's reign of terror. Telling her his identity would just put a target on her back, if there wasn't any already after she became a Wayne.
He couldn't imagine his sweet innocent wife exposed to the horrors of vigilantism.
Still, even though he had his own secrets, it felt quite frustrating not to know hers. That was what Damian was thinking one dark night when the door finally opened, signalling her arrival from work.
“Damian?” Her eyes widened. “Why are you still up? You shouldn't have waited for me.”
“It's alright. I couldn't sleep anyways.” And I will be sneaking out for patrol later. He stood up to kiss her cheek—
But froze upon seeing a red mark right at the base of her neck.
Marinette hummed tiredly. “Next time, don't wait for me if you're tired, okay?”
“. . . What's that on your neck?” He dared to ask.
Her hand immediately flew to the spot on her skin. For a split second, her expression changed into a hint of annoyance. “It's—it's . . .” she stammered, “I accidentally hit myself.”
“You hit yourself?”
She nodded meekly.
Damian stared at her for a moment. There was one thing he knew about his wife: she was a bad liar. But she was expert at omitting things, partly because she probably knew he wouldn't interrogate her further. He knew that she was aware it was the vaguest of explanations but she never tried to elaborate.
He mustered out a smile. “Be careful next time.”
She let out a nervous laugh and squeaked out a ‘yes’.
“By the way.” He took a deep breath, “I visited your office this morning.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, and your secretary told me you hadn't punched in for the day yet.”
The silence between them was thick.
“Ah . . .” Damian could practically see the gears turning in her head. “That was . . . erm, I had to run an errand before work! Yeah . . .”
“I see. I was hoping to have lunch with you earlier but it seems that you're busy nowadays.”
She cursed in French under her breath.
“I'm really sorry, Damian.” She fidgeted with her fingers. “I'll make time this week. I promise.”
She hurried off to their bedroom, leaving Damian with his thoughts.
He really really didn't want to assume the worst. But his heart was racing and when he looked at the signs, they were clear as day. His mind started to spiral a little, wondering where he could've gone wrong, wondering if he didn't spend enough time on her or if she felt that he wasn't giving enough effort.
But he pushed all those thoughts away and followed her to bed.
***
One Saturday afternoon saw Robin and Superboy in the Watchtower's breakroom, talking about Damian's predicament. He hoped his friend could at least contribute an objective outsider's perspective in his dilemma and encourage him to broach the topic with Marinette.
“She's cheating,” Superboy deadpanned.
“She's—she's not,” he argued back, “Perhaps I am just reading too much into it . . .”
“Um but the hickey? The late night escapades?” Superboy frowned. “I don't know about you, but I don't think there's any other explanation for it.”
Robin bit his tongue. No, it's not possible. He loved Marinette terribly, and he knew—he could feel the same love from her if not more.
His friend sighed, “Look, I know it's hard to believe. Even I don't think M can be . . . unfaithful but you should confront her about it.”
“I can't. I can't face her like that when I am still keeping a secret of my own.”
“Then tell her you're Robin. A secret for a secret, hm?”
Robin didn't even want to think about how messy that conversation would be.
“It's all just about communication,” Superboy continued. “If you're worried she won't accept you, take my mom and dad as an example—”
He stopped talking, indicating that he sensed another presence nearby. Just on cue, a fuming Ladybug stomped into the breakroom, heading straight to one of the refrigerators.
The two men watched as she muttered angrily while looking around for food—Robin could see the clear exhaustion on her tensed figure. The Parisian heroine had joined the Justice League after the Hawkmoth fiasco became public; the heroes were quick to recruit her but not before she voiced out her complaints about the League neglecting her city. Though she hadn't revealed her identity to anyone, she had formed bonds with the other heroes her age, not excluding Robin and Superboy.
Superboy winced when she kicked the fridge door.
Ladybug did a hundred eighty, showing both the fires of hell and sleepless nights in her blue eyes. “You don't happen to have an extra stock of Kryptonite, do you?”
Superboy looked at her warily. “What happened this time?”
“Your dad assigned me to another magic-involved mission!” She tugged at her hair, sitting beside them. “I thought I made it clear I didn't want to be involved in too many missions especially if it's non-miraculous related ones!”
“You could . . . tell him that?”
She shot a sharp glare at them. “You don't think I did? They're insisting it's miraculous related when Constantine hasn't even confirmed anything! Just because Paris was terrorized, it doesn't mean miraculi are going to pop out from everywhere! These missions are affecting my normal life!”
It was a common complaint for heroes who had alternate civilian lives, but Robin was a bit surprised that she was that open about her feelings.
“And—and Batman too!” She pointed a finger at Robin. “I know Monsieur Furry's guilty about the Paris thing and all and me not having a mentor but he keeps checking on my progress after missions liked a damned helicopter parent! “
Before either of them could reply, she continued ranting, “I was going to meet an important client yesterday but they just had to call me in to help with the mission! And then it goes on until freaking midnight! What about my precious sleep?! Then Zatanna accidentally used a spell on me—it hit my neck and now it looks like a hickey!”
Her head dropped onto the table. “How the fuck do I fucking explain that to my husband?!”
Robin and Superboy looked at each other, wide-eyed.
“You—you haven't told your husband that you're a hero?” Superboy asked carefully.
Not lifting up her head, she replied with a muffled voice, “Of course not! I can't do that to him! He's already exposed to enough danger because of his last name! I just can't tell him ‘ hey mon amour so I'm actually that heroine from Paris on top of my emotional PTSD!’”
Robin swallowed. That was Marinette's name for him.
It ticked too many boxes.
He started to subconsciously connect the dots: catching his wife absent at work at the time the magic-wielding team of the JL was away on a mission; Ladybug sharing that she finally linked up messages from her yoyo to her personal phone; his wife coming home late, tired and fatigued from head to toe when all she was supposed to be doing was designing.
“I'm sure he'll come to understand your circumstances,” Superboy consoled.
“He won't.” The heroine sat up, revealing that her eyes were now welling up with tears. “He probably hates me right now because I'm sending the wrong signals. What if he thinks I'm just taking advantage of him for his money? His family already hates me! What if he's filing for a divorce right now?”
Robin felt the nudge from his friend, as if to tell him to do damage control. Superboy abruptly stood up, spouted out an excuse about being called by someone, and left the room to the two of them.
Ladybug sniffed, “Sorry, you probably didn't want to hear all of that.”
“It helps to get your problems off your chest.” Robin awkwardly patted her head. In truth, she was really Marinette, he wanted to pull her into a hug already.
He coughed. “Why—why do you think your husband's family hates you?”
“Oh . . . I don't know, but his father’s always distant. Whenever I'm at a family dinner, they're just very quiet,” she replied sadly. “I know they're good people but I felt like I didn't belong somehow. My husband keeps saying they adore me though.”
Robin wanted to sigh out loud. His father still had his guard up because he believed she was a civilian, hence there was a side of her family they could never show her. It was always quiet due to Alfred's stern lecture about behaving in front of Marinette lest they accidentally spill something they shouldn't.
“It sounds like your husband cares a lot about you,” he told her, “Don't you think he would trust you if you told him the truth?”
“But I can't! I don't know where to begin!” She pursed her lips. “He's always been good to me and he never steps the line even if I'm obviously lying. I just . . . I thought I could tell him before we got married but I was too scared and I didn't want to ruin what we had.”
“But he won't think any differently of you, would he?”
“No . . .”
“Then you have nothing to be afraid of.” He smiled a little. “It may come off as a shock at first but he will accept it in time. You will be stressing yourself out even more if you keep thinking about the worst scenarios.”
She stared at him. “When did you get so wise?”
“Ever since I started thinking about what my wife was doing.”
She tilted her head. “Huh?”
It was unmistakable. Those gleaming blue eyes were Marinette's.
He was such an idiot.
“She keeps coming home late, hides her phone every time I'm near,” he listed, gauging her reaction. “Last night, I found out she hadn't come to her office even when she said she was working, and I caught her with a strange mark on her neck.”
Her eyes slowly widened as she seemed to come to the same realization. The heroine's gloved hands flew up to cover her mouth. “Damian?” she whispered.
He checked if the coast was clear and slowly peeled off his domino mask to show his full face. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you habib –”
He was cut off by her warm lips, her arms winding around his neck. Damian immediately melted into her touch, relieved that they finally divulged their secrets. He wouldn't have to be worried about introducing her to the hero world after all.
He was extremely relieved, in fact, that he hadn't noticed his father and eldest brother stroll into the room.
“ROBIN! Are you cheating on your wife?!”
Robin pulled away from Ladybug, withholding a sigh of exasperation. He put his mask back on and turned around to see Batman looking constipated and Nightwing utterly shocked.
"How could you do that to—to . . ." Nightwing cried out.
"Leave us." He glared.
"Robin—" His father's voice was tinged with disapproval.
"Leave. Us."
Fortunately, the two scurried off. Damian faced his wife, who seemed as flabbergasted. He was worried since it was her identity that was at risk, unless he embraced the unexpected cheating allegations.
"Oh my kwamis," Ladybug said softly, "I called my father-in-law a furry ."
"It's deserved." He rubbed up and down her shoulders. "What do you want to do?"
"Oh um . . ." She ducked her head. "Maybe go home and I'll—I'll explain everything from the beginning."
***
Damian had to recount his life story after his wife shared hers whilst they cuddled in bed. After they talked, he was surprised to learn so many new things about her—he thought he had her memorized already, even before they exchanged vows. At the same time, he was mentally kicking himself for thinking that Marinette was never closely involved in the war against Hawkmoth.
Of course she was Ladybug.
Of course she was a hero.
So while she was spiraling at the number of times she'd unknowingly mocked her in-laws in the suit, he was regretting not telling her the truth sooner. If they'd opened up years ago, he would've stayed by her side during missions, helping her deal with the troubles of having a masked alter egos, and sharing his own experiences with her. A stronger bond would've formed between them, because they both understood the hero's life after all this time.
Not long after, she finally decided she was ready to tell the Waynes who she was. ‘It would do more harm than good if I kept hiding it anyway,’ she reasoned. He did agree, since she was part of the family, both as Ladybug and Marinette. The others would surely be overjoyed (and less overprotective) if they found out that she was a hero. What Damian found strange, however, was Marinette seemed to worry that Bruce's opinion on her would change and he'd become ‘distant’ as Batman as well.
“Remember, Batman is afraid of you,” he had reminded her over and over again.
(And Batman would be ecstatic to discover that Ladybug was his daughter-in-law, but Damian would never tell her that. The caped vigilante had grown fussy over the Parisian heroes as his way of ‘making up’ for the Paris incidents . . . But at the same time, he cowered ever so slightly when Ladybug raised her voice on him. Damian's siblings blamed Ladybug's black hair and blue eyes for triggering the adopt-itis.)
And so Damian and Marinette decided to arrange a family lunch to break the news to everyone. It was then Damian remembered that there was one issue he hadn't resolved yet.
“If you don't tell Marinette today, I'm telling her.” Dick glared at him from across the table.
Damian glanced at his watch. His wife wasn't present yet, and had sent him a message about picking up pastries from Paris first.
“Tt. That would mean revealing our identities, Richard.” He crossed his arms.
“Just because you have the mask on it doesn't mean you can do that to her!” Dick argued. “Does Ladybug even know you're married?! ”
“What did he do to Pixie-pop?” asked Jason.
“He---he—” Dick was once again trembling in anger and disbelief.
“We saw him kissing Ladybug.” It was Bruce who replied. “Damian, I never expected this from you. You will have to talk and apologize to Marinette.”
“You did what?!” Jason stood up so abruptly that the utensils clattered.
“What the fuck?” Tim exclaimed.
Stephanie gasped. “What the hell Damian?”
“Holy shit,” Duke whispered.
Damian could only stare at the entryway of the dining hall, hoping that Marinette would arrive soon. If he was left with his family any longer, they'd be beating him up and disowning him.
“I have . . . a reason,” he said through gritted teeth. He couldn't exactly tell them right off the bat, since Marinette wasn't there yet.
“Open . . . open relationship?” Cass frowned.
Suddenly, a bright light appeared at the ceiling—a portal— and from it, a figure dropped down, much to everyone's shock. Ladybug, unified with the Horse miraculous, grinned at them with an armful of boxes filled with croissants and macarons.
“Ladybug?” Bruce gaped.
“Your daughter-in-law actually.” She lowered the sunglasses, showing her narrowed eyes. “And your worst fucking nightmare.”
“W---What?”
Damian could barely control his laughter, seeing his father frozen.
She detransformed completely and scowled at Bruce. “This is technically your fault, furry old man! If you didn't keep agreeing to send me on those magical missions, I wouldn't be so tired and caused a misunderstanding in the first place.”
Damian didn't have time to shield himself from the eruption of noise on the table. With his wife's theatrical reveal, everyone was in different states of shock. Tim stood up quietly to face a wall with a blank stare, entertaining another existential crisis. Duke choked on the water he was drinking. Jason was crouched on the floor miserably with his hands over his face, perhaps because of the times he complained to Marinette about Ladybug's uptight methods. Dick's jaw was completely unhinged, and he was slapping himself every minute or so. Stephanie passed a hundred dollar bill to Cass.
And Bruce. Poor Bruce was paler than their porcelain plates, speechless and unmoving.
Damian exchanged a wide smile with his wife. He loved her so much.
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sturnlsstuff · 3 months ago
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MASK OFF | ghostface!matt x fem!reader
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— warnings: smut with plot, dom!matt, sub!reader, knife kink, unprotected p in v, rough sex, kinda mean!matt, edging, cursing, crying, dirty talk, pet names, mention of murder, - english isn't my first language!!
part one | part two
~~~~~~
"n-no!" you cry out with a pout, when for the fourth time matt stops the movements of his fingers, pulling them out. your orgasm just out of reach again. he was not giving you the relief you so desperately needed, practically edging you, making you squirm under him, while he was watching you with a smirk. you knew you were screwed for tonight, but you wouldn't think he could be so cruel. "please!" you whine, giving him the best puppy eyes you got, but matt only let's out a sarcastic laugh, "now y're fuckin' beggin', huh? interesting"
"i didn't do anything, i swear!" you mewl, tears running down your cheeks from the frustration. matt kneels on the mattress between your legs, grabbing the knife that was laying beside you and holding your wet folds spread with his two fingers. he puts the handle of the knife inside your dripping hole, starting pulling it in and out with unholy speed, while you were gripping the sheets, moaning loudly, your walls clenching around the thing. "i told you to keep your pretty mouth shut, didn't i?" he watches how your pussy sucks in the handle of the knife, while the sharp part was slightly digging into his hand with each movement, but he didn't care right now. not when he was able to see you like this. "your folks are downstairs, remember?"
he just smirks when you put your hand over your mouth, legs trembling when you're closer to the edge again, but he slows down, making it all go away, "fuck!" you squeeze your eyes causing new tears to fall down. you could feel his painfully hard cock straining against your inner thigh. "i'm telling the truth, i didn't say anything! please just let me—"
you cut yourself off with a muffled scream, when he quickly throws the knife onto the mattress and instead slams into you, making sure you feel his dick deep. matt doesn't give you any time to adjust, pulling almost all the way out, before going back in and starting thrusting into you.
it wasn't a secret that matt was pissed off. really mad. since the meeting in the park, he called you three times already and all three times you picked up and let him inside your room, when your parents were gone. he would do his job and leave as always. you were starting to get sick of it, finding yourself being more amused by him with each day and less scared, what was stupid for matt whenever he thought about this. you also caught yourself often fantasizing about him without the mask, even had a wet dream about it earlier this day. you had no courage to ask him to take it off or even if he'd agree to it. though matt wasn't stupid and he noticed the little details, how you would slightly put your hand on his mask, but you wouldn't dare to take if off without his permission, which made him feel somehow proud that you listen to him.
so you spent the whole day trying to distract yourself from thinking about that dream and him in general. at some point your phone rang, you picked up immediately after seeing who's number it was and that's how it all.. started.
"hello?"
"you think you're so slick?" by his voice you could quickly say he was mad. he was actually completely pissed off, feeling betrayed. matt really liked you, craved you and would never want to hurt you even if sometimes... sometimes he wasn't really capable to control himself. "what?" your eyebrows frowned with confusion, while he continued, "y'wanna make me lose my shit? wanna be next?"
"what are you talkin' about?" you asked confused, hearing his low chuckle that makes goosebumps appear on your skin, "you really gonna act all stupid now?" there was a moment of silence as you thought what possibly you could've done, but your head was empty. meanwhile matt was frustrated, grabbing the bridge of his nose and trying to calm himself down, "-- make sure your window's open, i'll be there in 10."
"but my parents—" you started, but he was quick to cut you off, "i don't give a fuck." the call ended, leaving you feeling uneasy and confused, but either way you left your window open and locked your door, just in case if one of your parents would want to come in.
matt was in fact watching your every move, no matter what time of the day it was, he knew what you were doing. he'd watch you hanging out in the cafe with your friends, seeing you and your mom shopping, eating dinner in some fancy restaurant or studying in the library. so he really did know everything and sometimes he didn't necessarily like the things he saw. like yesterday he saw you talking to a cop. he wouldn't think much of it, even if it gave him anxiety, but then this morning a police car drove through his neighborhood, even though this had never happened before. so his assumption was that you just betrayed him. maybe you wanted to set a trap for him? he thought about it for half a day, trying to calm down, but in vain, the anxiety and a sense of betrayal mixed together, creating an explosive mix of emotions. so he was really fucking pissed off and his goal for tonight was to make sure you know how mad he actually was.
the wet, squelching sound coming from you was filling the room and making you heat with embarrassment, while he continues pounding into you really fast. matt grins feeling you squeezing him so tight, it was almost painful, "why'd you do that, huh? got bored of my dick? wanted to make me fuckin' angry?" he rasps, holding your hips when you can't stay still, desperately shaking your head but not being able to say anything, only moans and soft sobs leaving your lips at how good he was making you feel. "i- oh! i'm..." that's when he pulls out just as you were almost coming, causing more tears stream down your face. he flips you over, your face pressed into the pillow. while still holding your hips, he lifts them up and enters you again, immediately going with the same pace as before.
"you're too loud", he bites on his lip, holding back a groan when he feels you clenching around him. despite his anger, he loves watching you struggle while he continues thrusting into you, his cock hitting your g-spot with every move. matt's pride gets the better of him when he sees you like this, knowing that he's the one making you feel so good. there's no mercy from him tonight when he continues bottoming out inside of you on that fast pace. broken cries leaving you have him weak, getting him closer to the edge, "'m tryin' to understand... but i really can't-- fuckkkk, yeah, keep squeezin' me like that..."
the way he fucks you this time reminds you of the first time. you could literally feel the passion and fascination in every of his thrust, but there was also so much anger which made you shiver. you were trying to hold onto literally anything, gripping your sheets, pillows, even the headboard that was hitting your wall with each movement. you'll definitely have some explanation to do for your parents later.
matt watches how your ass bounce, while his cock continue slamming into you and that sight makes his hips stutter, a low moan leaving him when he fills you up with his cum. he slows down only for a second to ride out his high, making you whine in response, before pulling out and flipping you over again, just to see your hair sticking to your forehead and tears on your flushed cheeks. he looks at your hole leaking cum with fascination, his ego immediately boosted.
towering over you, propping himself on his hands on each side of your head, matt looks at you intensely, which makes you literally feel his gaze on you, so you open your eyes. his mask inches away from your face, making your breath hitch in your throat. you really wanted to see his face, know what he looks like and not only know his body from the waist down. you wanted to see all of him and he was able to notice that in your eyes.
he grabs you by the jaw, squeezing your cheeks, "why'd you talk to that cop, huh?" the tone of his voice was low and rough, but dripping with passion. seeing you like this turned him on even more, while you still felt the desire to be satisfied, his release and your own arousal dripping down your inner thighs. "'n' don't gimme that bullshit again, 'bout not doin' anythin', cause i saw you, sweetheart."
"i swear..." you repeat again, shaking your head while he keeps his grip on your cheeks, making your words a bit muffled. "-- he started asking me questions, 'cause he found out about me and that guy you... you know..."
"killed?" matt tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes and trying to process your words. you nod weakly, while new tears runned down your face, he felt it against his skin. "i told him i don't know anything, that i only met with this guy once and nothing happened between us, that i didn't really know him..."
"and he believed you?" his tone was dripping with irony, making your heart skip a beat. "i forced myself to cry and everything, i pretended to be all sad about it and he left me alone, i promise he..."
"pretended to be sad, huh?" matt is quick to cut you off, focusing too much on one thing you said.
it wasn't a secret that you were a little bit insane, matt was aware of it since you'd let him into your room that one night. you also weren't really scared of him. well, maybe a little bit when he was mad, like for example now, but it was making you more horny than afraid, which only confirmed that you were almost as crazy as he was.
you didn't even liked that guy really, he was just a distraction from the fact you liked the hookups with the ghostface a little too much. you weren't able to get to know him, since matt was quick to move him out of the way. though you found yourself being careless to his death, since finding on his phone that he only wanted to use you anyway, just like matt said.
"yeah, i... uh, i mean, if i cared about him and his death, i wouldn't meet with you again—"
"and why was there a police car drivin' around my neighborhood, hm?" matt wanted to believe you, knowing that if you won't convince him of your innocence, then... well, things may go in a direction he doesn't want them to go. "it... it has to be a coincidence..." you swallow nervously, trying not to look away. it was the truth, you really didn't say anything, not really figuring out why. you could set him off fast, matt knew it too, but he just craved you so much, he couldn't bring himself to leave you alone.
"is it now?" he whispers into your ear, moving his tip along your dripping folds, before teasing you with stopping at you entrance, knowing how desperate and unsatisfied you still were. you whine in response, "do you think i'd just let you into my room, if it wasn't a... oh, shit—"
with one sudden movement he entered you again, starting moving with the same hard pace as before, which made you moan out loud. "c'mon, sweetheart, keep... keep talkin'... tell me more, make me believe you, yeah? fuckk, 'cause i wanna... i wanna believe you—" a low groan escapes his lips when you wrap your legs around his hips, making him go even deeper.
"i... didn't care about that guy anyway—" the sounds of you two rasping, the choked moans leaving you and skin slipping against each other filling the room, the wet sound coming from you now louder. "i lied for you, i could tell them everything about us, b-but i... oh!" matt speeds up, making your stomach drop over and over again, but you continue, "-- i... i lied for you even if i don't really know you either, i didn't even see your face..."
a hoarse, low laugh escapes matt, "oh, really now? you tryin' to make me feel bad f'you or somethin'?"
"what?! n-no! i just..."
"i don't think you understand what it means if i take that mask off." his thrusts started being more urgent and hard, immediately making you clench around him and finally getting the release you so desperately needed. matt curses under his breath, feeling how your sticky walls suck him in while you cry out of pleasure, desperately gripping the sheets to hold onto something. "shiiittt... here you go... making this pretty little mess on my cock..."
he doesn't change his pace at all causing you to whine and making it impossible for you to stay still. matt shifts, putting your legs over his shoulders, gripping your thighs tightly, this new angle allowing him to hit your g-spot more intensely. the overstimulation hurts so good, you can't keep your eyes open.
"y'really wanna see my face, huh?" he grunts softly at the feeling of you squeezing him so hard, "but that... changes everything for you... mmhm, oh fuck—"
this whole time matt was sure that he would never show you his identity, knowing that it would complicate things and if something went wrong between you two then... he would have to deal with it in his own crazy way, doing things that he wouldn't want to do to you. but there was something more inside him, a bit of insecurity about what you would say, whether you would actually like him or if you would just immediately kick him out the door and never speak to him again. and this mask hid his shyness, without it he felt so... exposed. yet a part of him wanted to see your reaction, wanted to know what will you do.
"are you sure?" he asks while still pounding into you, but you're so lost in pleasure, you don't even know what he's asking about. "'cause y'know, sweetheart... you won't be able to get rid of me completely, once i do this..."
hearing your quiet, weak "please", matt slows down just slightly and before he could overthink his decision, he grabs the bottom edge of the mask and pulls it off in one swift movement. and that's when you see him.
the moment your eyes meet, he freezes and stops moving inside of you, his fingers pressing into your thigh a little more like he was still trying to maintain control, even if his heart was pounding in his chest. you look at him with wide, aroused eyes, feeling your breath was taken away. he was so... handsome. beautiful. it seemed like you could say he was an angel and it wouldn't be the least bit dramatic.
you didn't know what to focus on, you were so overwhelmed by his beauty. his facial features, that sharp, defined jaw, the prominent cheekbones... but his very blue eyes were doing the main job here, his gaze was so intense, it made you feel small. and those pink lips that just looked so kissable.
now when he was finally without the ghostface mask, you were able to notice more details, like for example the silver chain on his neck, the earrings or how his messy brown hair looked so fluffy, making you want to run your hand through it.
and also the fact that you've already seen him before. now you remembered where you know his voice from. "matt?" you finally speak up quietly, almost hesitatingly, but he hears you and it's enough to make his breath hitch in his throat.
"you..." his voice cracks slightly, a small frown appearing between his eyebrows. clearing his throat, he continues, "you, uh.. remember?"
if you remember? how could you not? that one party a few weeks ago where a guy approached you halfway through. you remember that he was so... almost shy? you were talking like crazy while he was mostly just staring, but he introduced himself. matt. you remembered him because he had such nice tattoos, you couldn't stop staring at his arm.
"yeah, i.... of course i remember."
for him it was like a punch in the gut. he would never think that you remembered him from that party. he was hypnotized by you, just staring at you while you talked, which made him believe he made himself look like a fool in your eyes. this whole interaction was also short, because he quickly realized about his not so little problem he had in his pants, just from staring at you and listening to your voice. so he quickly left you alone, having been obsessed with you ever since.
so matt was just convinced that you thought of him as some weirdo, that you forgot about him as soon as he disappeared from your sight at that party. he was sure that when you'd see his face you would freak out, but you... you looked intrigued. he noticed something in your eyes that he couldn't necessarily name. maybe he just imagined it.
licking his lips, he puts your legs back on the mattress and pulls his black hoodie over his head, allowing you to see his tattoos. it really was him. "i didn't have the chance to tell you this then, but, uh..." you swallow a bit nervously, gently touching his arm, tracing the lines of his tattoos with your finger, unconsciously causing matt to lose his mind. "-- i really think they suit you."
that was it for matt.
letting out a low groan, he starts moving again, but this time slower, though still making sure you feel his dick deep. he now towers over you and after a moment of just eye contact, you feel his lips on yours, which stole a quiet, surprised whimper from you.
and for some reason he stayed over night this time. you were sure you wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow, being too sore, but you didn't care, not being able to get enough of him. you wanted to learn his body by heart. somehow it felt right even if it shouldn't.
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a/n: hope you guys like it!! this is kinda basically the "last" part, there won't be any other long part like this but i still wanna continue this au!! so if you have any requests or idk questions about ghostface!matt just write them in my inbox, i'd loooveee to continue with this story if y'all want me to. but i'd mostly make it short, maybe as oneshots or something like that. xoxo.
@certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @sturnioloslutttt4 @ashlishes @mattsbitchh @hi-people-who-are-alive @stellward123 @inssanely @matts-girlfriend @imnotalive420
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intimacyequalsdeath · 1 year ago
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Bubz's Slasher Fictober Day 13: Hellboy (Pumpkin Spice)
Friday the 13 in October no less! Happy 13th of Fictober besties as always I hope you've all been enjoying these fics especially this weeks smutty fics and I hope your excited for more festivities in the next couple weeks of Fictober.
Notes: Minors DNI, Smut, Spice and everything nice. No specific pronouns or descriptions are used though the reader does work as an exotic dancer.
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"You said you were ok with it! you knew what I did for work before we got together Red. Why the hell is it a problem now?" You slammed open the door to your dressing room as he followed behind you into the room.
Red had just recently got back from a mission and had come to see you at the club you worked as a dancer at. Something he always did when he got back except this time he had a stick up his ass.
"Well yeah things change toots, Especially when I show up and see all these other men drooling over you" You rolled your eyes.
"Red I tell you all the time, those guys don't matter. I just need their money you're the only one that matters to me" You understood he was jealous but you didn't understand what his issue was.
You watched as he huffed some more and briefly paced the room before sitting on the old faux leather couch you had put in the corner specifically for him to come and visit you at the club. You went and sat next to him, forgetting that you had come back to your dressing room to changed out of your skimpy attire and into street clothes.
"What's wrong red? I can't fix anything if you don't talk to me" You ran your hand up and down his arm trying to coax him to talk.
"All those men out there that aren't well ya know" He said softly
"They aren't want honey?"
"They aren't like me, their normal" He said. You're heart broke.
"Baby, You are normal, You're my normal. You're everything I could've ever hoped to find in a man. I don't care about all those rich dicks out there. The only man in the entire world I care about is you."
You watched as Hellboy processed your words, His face not giving anything away quite yet as he thought for a moment. Your eyes met his and you offered him a smile he couldn't help but to grin himself before looking away bashfully.
"You mean it?" He asked almost a playful tone to his voice.
"Of course I do. I fucking love you, plus no one can handle me like you can baby" You moved into his laps running your hands up and down his chest as you lost yourself into his eyes.
"Hey I'm sorry baby I uh, I guess I just got into my own head again" He told you, wrapping his giant arms around your waist.
"It's ok my love, I understand" You told him, pressing kisses to his face then his lips.
Your arms went around his neck as he took over the kiss. You pulled away a bit so he could fully take in your outfit choice for the night, It was a barley there number with accents in a particular color that resembled your demon boyfriend.
"Do you like my outfit baby?" You asked him playfully. He grinned.
"Course I do, red looks real good on you ya know" You both laughed.
"Ya know I'm kinda partial to red myself" His hands moved up to the zipper in the back of the outfit to take it off of you.
"Really? and why's that?"
"I don't know honestly, I've just always really liked it" He moved the fabric down your body as you started running your hands down his again.
He let the fabric drop to the floor when he finally had it completely off you, His hands made their way back to your waist working their way up to your chest as he slid his fingers over your nipples as he took in your bare form. It wasn't anything new to him obviously but he always liked to take you in like a fine art painting that he was seeing for the first time.
"You know Red I'm feeling a bit underdressed here" You said nodding to the fact that he was still fully clothed. He smirked at you and allowed you to work his shirt over his head before unbuckling his pants.
Once his pants were down, His cock sprang free smacking against his stomach. Precum already leaking out of the top of it before you had even touched anything.
You took his cock into your hand giving it a few strokes before guiding it to your entrance. He pushed into you slowly as always giving you time to adjust to his size as obviously his dick much like everything else about him is huge. Once you had adjusted to his size you gave him the go ahead by beginning to slowly bounce up and down.
He chucked at your eagerness before thrusting hard up into you before you could come back down on top of him. You gasped at the feeling of him all the way inside you, you reveled in how full he always made you feel. Your eyes rolling back into your head as you stopped for a minute just to feel him completely.
Hellboy made no move to continue to thrust so you could tell he liked the feeling of being inside you too. You put your hands behind your legs onto to his knees allowing yourself to lean back for a new angle.
"Red please, Fuck me" You pleaded breathlessly.
"What good manners you have for daddy huh?" He teased before fulfilling exactly what you wanted.
You could feel as your mixing juices were sliding down your thighs making both your laps a mess. The only sound echoing through the room other then your moans and his grunts was the slapping of skin on skin as he fucked up into you making a mess of the both of you.
He brought a giant hand up to gently wrap it around your neck. Using this as leverage he began slamming you onto his cock by your neck, his other hand holding you behind your back to keep you steady.
"Red I- I can't It's, It's" You gasped out grabbing at his chest, He made no move to stop though.
"Nah Baby, I know you can take it and you're going to take it" He commanded.
Your legs fell even more open, if that was even possible, at his words and the only words able to come from your mouth after that were incoherent mumbles in-between your moans.
You felt your walls begin to tighten as he leaned over to kiss and suck on your neck, leaving love bites as he went to further mark you as his. Suddenly here your orgasm was, You cried out as you could feel yourself wrap around his cock as he also came inside you. Your juices mixing together and making an even bigger mess.
Once you both had came he took you gently off his lap and laid you on the couch next to him as you both caught your breath.
"Hey baby you with me?" He asked, taking a cigar out of his discarded coat pocket and lighting it before taking a hand and gently rubbing your back. Wary of your ability to speak your nodded at him and he smiled.
"I'm fine Red, You just wear me out" You gave a soft laugh.
"You think your gonna be ok to walk out of here back to the apartment?" He asked, but something told you he already knew the answer.
"Probably not, You gonna be up to carry me?" You asked, knowing full well nothing stroked his ego more then having to carry you after he fucked you.
"Babydoll nothing would bring me more pleasure then carrying my baby home" Your eyes met his as you both grinned at each other like love sick fools.
Something told you Hellboy was never gonna have to worry about old rich dickheads ever again.
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mayajadewrites · 8 months ago
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could've been you: aizawa x reader x hawks
summary: You're the new teacher at UA with a rocky past with one of their beloved teachers, Shouta Aizawa aka Eraserhead. You'd rather never see him again but alas, such is life. You also meet Keigo, aka Hawks, who is the opposite of Aizawa. Smiley, golden retriever energy. Nothing could go wrong... right? relationships: aizawa x fem!reader, hawks x fem!reader warnings: some chapters will be NSFW, they will have a warning on them in bold.
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CHAPTER TWO
WARNING: some light smut in this chapter. enjoy :)
You stop in your tracks. The tall, dark haired, tired looking man that altered your life forever is standing outside of your door. You were mentally preparing yourself to see him tomorrow, not today.
"Sup Eraser!" Keigo walked up to Eraserhead and attempted to give him a fist bump.
Of course, Eraser just looked away and gave a nod instead. "You know her?"
"Yeah, we met today! We all had lunch. You should've came, it was a nice time. I was just walking her back to her room. You know, chivalry isn't dead."
"Wasn't invited." Eraserhead murmured. "Can you give us some privacy to talk?"
"Oh, sure! I'll see you tomorrow." Keigo turned to you and smiled before walking away. You crossed your arms over your chest once the sound of Keigo's footsteps had disappeared.
"Who told you where my room was?" You finally spoke. You can't help but want to stare at Eraserhead and how much he's grown into himself. He's more muscular than the last time you saw him and his long black hair was messily tied up into a bun. His clavicle peeked out of the black t-shirt he's wearing.
"My room is just 2 down from yours, I saw some delivery people come in and then I heard your voice."
"Stalker much." You pause as your eyes flicker up to his. "What do you want, Eraser?"
"Shouta or Aizawa. Don't call me Eraser."
"Why not? That's your hero name after all. Are you not a hero?"
"Don't be a brat. You know me. Not as Eraser." He turned his head to the side, glancing at the carpet under his feet. "I wanted to say I'm sorry."
"You're about..." You pretend to count on your fingers. "5 years too late."
"I didn't know there was a timeframe for apologies. I haven't seen you, I don't have your number or anything -"
"And that's the way it's going to stay." You fish for your keys in your purse. "I'm observing your class for the rest of the week and then I'll be out of your hair. We can be civil for everyone else but I don't need to have you in my life as anything other than a co-worker."
Eraser pondered his next words, not knowing if he should grovel at your feet or just walk away.
"Promise to call me by my name." Was all he said.
"Goodnight Aizawa." You turn the key into your room and shut the door. Your heart is beating quickly, the memories of your last encounter with Aizawa seeping into your brain. Due to your quirk, you feel things deeply. Past empathy. You can feel the same pain another person feels when you put them in a memory.
You slept like shit. Barely got 4 hours of sleep. But you had a job to do.
You put on a satin midi skirt, platform sandals and a white t-shirt tucked into your skirt. You let your hair down into it's natural waves, hitting the middle of your back.
You kept it natural-ish with the makeup, only adding moisturizer and mascara.
You start to hear the clamoring of students in the halls heading for their homeroom class, which is with Aizawa. You open and shut your door quickly, making sure it's locked.
When you walk into the homeroom of class 1A, you're greeted by many faces.
"You look too old to be a student." A blonde haired boy scoffed as he walked by you.
"Kachan be nice!" A boy with green hair followed behind him. "I'm sorry about him. My name is Midoria, that's Bakugo."
"Hi." You told Midoria your name. "My hero name is Mirage, but please, use my name. I'm the new strategy teacher here but I'm observing Mr. Aizawa for a few days."
"YOU'RE MIRAGE?" Midoria squeeled. "You are AMAZING! Wow! I have so much to ask you about! I would love to know how you're quirk works-"
"Midoria leave her alone." You hear a low voice. You turn around and see a two-toned haired boy with a scar on his eye. When did he get that? He has the same eyes as Endeavor, no doubt his kid. You met him when he was a small child, but you haven't seen him since then.
"Shoto." You smile, pulling him into a hug. "You've grown so much!"
"My father told me you would be teaching here. I'm looking forward to your class."
"I'm sure you'll excel in it. Enji has told me how great you are already, you have so much potential."
"My old man likes to lie." Shoto turned to sit in his seat. You raised your eyebrow, not sure what he means.
The rest of the students trickled in, and then Aizawa. He's wearing a black suit with his hair down, eyes tired as always.
"Settle down, kids." Aizawa spoke. You take a seat at the smaller desk that was put beside his. "This is Mirage. She'll be teaching a strategy class soon, but she's observing for the rest of the week. You will behave."
"Yes Mr. Aizawa." The kids echoed. You watched Aizawa teach, his words more care than you've ever heard. The students respected him, clearly.
You watched his mouth move with the words he was saying. You can't lie, you loved his voice.
But fuck him.
He isn't shit.
You adjust yourself in your seat and pull out your phone, reading a text from an unknown number.
Hope you don't mind - I got your number from Endeavor. I hope you're having a great first day!
Obviously it was Keigo.
Thank you, it's going well so far! And thank you again for walking me back to my room last night.
No prob! It was my pleasure. :)
You hear Aizawa clear his throat. "Is this not a good time to talk?"
"I believe I told you that we're co-workers. We don't need to chit chat while the students are brainstorming where they would like to do their internship."
"It's funny how you still think you run the world. We are not 'just co-workers'" He used his fingers as air quotes. "There is so much more history than that."
"Aizawa it's gonna take a lot more than one apology to make me forgive you."
"In order for my to prove to you that you should accept my apology, you need to talk to me."
Touche.
"Fine." You huffed, your eyes scanning the classroom. "So, who do you think has the most potential?"
"Obviously Shoto is one of the top contenders. His quirk - fire and ice - is unlike a lot of what we've seen. Bakugo, though he has a tough exterior, is very talented. I'm not sure about Midoria. He's annoying."
"Reminds me of someone." Your eyes flicker to his.
"Who? All Might?" He turns to you, completely serious.
"No. You. You're annoying."
He chuckles and you can see just a bit of his smile. It's rare from Aizawa, so it's rewarding when you see it.
You catch yourself staring for a second too long. "Momo has a lot of potential, too. Her quirk is fantastic."
"She just lacks confidence." Aizawa pulled his yellow sleeping bag over his head.
"You can't be serious."
"I need a nap. I barely sleep."
"Still?" There's worry in your voice. Aizawa has always been tired, but now his eye bags look especially deep.
"Wake me up in 30 minutes. Check on the students while you're at it. They like to get off task."
Shouta sleeps like an angel. You would never know how annoying he is or how sarcastic he can be. You watch his body move with his breath, his lips opened slightly to let air in.
Fuck. Stop staring at him.
After class you text Keigo back.
You: Finally finished with class for the day. How is your day going? Patrolling the city?
Keigo: Yeah. Slow day though, I was hoping you would text me back.
You: Why wouldn't I?
Keigo: *shrug emoji* Are you free tonight?
You: In fact I am.
Keigo: Would you like to watch a movie together? And yes I'm also inviting myself over to your place.
Very forward. You haven't had a man in your room since... well, your coma. You've had a dry spell for the past 5 years and you basically forgot how to kiss, let alone have sex.
But you don't have to have sex with Keigo yet. Or at all. It's just a movie.
You: Meet me at my place at 9. Make sure the kids don't see you.
Keigo: This feels like Romeo and Juliet.
You smile down at your phone, realizing you've been standing in the same spot for a few minutes. Aizawa raises an eyebrow at you as he walks out of his classroom.
"How long have you been standing here? You look like you're in a trance."
"I was texting, got immersed in my thoughts." You fake laugh. "Those kids really look up to you."
"Is that... a compliment?" Aizawa chuckled, placing his hand on the back of his neck.
"Don't say I was never nice to you." You turn on your heel away from Aizawa. "See you tomorrow, Eraser." You wave.
You don't look back or listen for him to reply.
You can't look back at him.
Otherwise you might get stuck in his eyes.
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You clean your place before Keigo arrives, making sure everything is in its place and spotless. You slip on a pair of sweatshorts that hug your ass nicely and a tank top, more low cut than usual. Your tits pool at the top of it, just waiting to be touched.
As you're dusting, you hear a knock.
"Coming!" You walk over to the door, opening it quickly.
"Eraser?" You raise an eyebrow. "I wasn't expecting you."
"Who were you expecting while wearing almost nothing?" He looked down at you, looking almost angry.
"None of your business. What do you want?"
"You left your planner." He handed you your agenda. His eyes wandered to your chest as he slid the book in your hands. Goosebumps formed on your skin as his stare intensified.
"Thank you." You tried to make yourself forget that your nipples are getting hard from Aizawa just looking at you. "See you tomorrow." You take a step back and try to close the door.
"Who's coming over?" Aizawa stopped the door with his foot.
"None of your damn business. Are you my father now?"
"It's the bird isn't it."
"So what if it was?" You cross your arms over your chest. "What's wrong with that?"
Aizawa was silent for a moment. He wanted to choose his next words carefully.
"Nothing." He cleared his throat. "Have a good night." He reached his arm above your head to place his hand on the door, letting his bicep block your view of the hallway. He leans down, ghosting his lips along your ear. "He can't satisfy you like I can."
You freeze as he walks away. What does he mean Keigo can satisfy you like he can? How can he just walk away without waiting for a reaction? What even just happened?
"Hey!" You hear Keigo's voice coming from the other end of the hallway. "I made sure no one else saw -" He jogged up to your door, noticing what you were wearing. "This for me?" He smirked.
"It's just what I was already wearing." You smile and turn into your room. While you're excited to spend time with Keigo, Aizawa's words are stuck in your head.
He can't satisfy you like I can.
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Keigo wastes no time wrapping his arms around you as the movie progresses. He's very cuddly and touchy, something you're not used to. But he's so cute and sweet that you want him to.
"Can I be forward with you?" Keigo turns his head to look at you.
"You have been this whole time. What's stopping you now?"
"I want to kiss you. I have since yesterday."
"One day with me and you want to kiss me already? My quirk might be love at first sight." You smile as his eyes scan your face.
"Something about you is just..." He brings his index finger to your cheek, caressing it gently. "Can I?"
Can he?
Of course he can.
Do you want him to?
Yes.
Are you still thinking about Eraserhead?
Also yes.
"Yes." You nod, hoping this kiss would wash away the thought of Aizawa.
And it does. For a little.
Keigo's lips attach to yours in the neediest of ways. He presses his hand onto your cheek, using his thumb to rub along your skin. You turn your body to face him, gently pushing your hand on his chest against the back of the couch.
He follows your lead and pushes himself to the back of the couch. You straddle his waist, letting your plush thighs pool on his legs. Keigo's hands travel to your waist and the top of your ass.
He grips your ass cheek gently, testing the waters. You press your tits into him in approval, letting him know he's okay to keep going. He opens his mouth to let your tongue in to deepen the kiss. He likes when you take the lead, obviously.
"God, you're beautiful." He moans against your lips as he kneads your ass. "All this ass, I need more than 2 hands." He chuckled as he planted kisses along your jawline to your neck.
"Keigo," You moan softly, tangling your fingers in his honey hair. "Yes, there." You feel his tongue swirl along your skin before he bites down, sucking the sweet spot on your neck. His hands travel up to your chest, getting a handful of each breast in each hand.
"You're so soft." He kisses your lips again, squeezing your tits gently. You smile as he looks mesmerized by you. Like he worships you.
You bring your hands to his face and plant a kiss on his lips softly.
"I think it's time for bed. It's a school night." You whisper with a giggle. Your panties are soaked, but you need some self control.
Keigo nods, still drunk off your kisses and body. "Can't have you too tired for class." His whispers, kissing your lips again. "Will I see you tomorrow?"
"Maybe." You shrug. Keigo fake frowns and you kiss his lips gently. "You have my number, silly." You get yourself off of him slowly and fix your top.
"Goodnight." He kisses you once more before he leaves. You look out in the hallway, taking note that no students are out.
You know who is?
Fucking Eraserhead.
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sofiareidings · 1 year ago
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Coffee Runs
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Summary: The guy who's been coming to the cafe you work at finally asked why you've never called him by his name.
A/N: I'm sorry this story is so late, especially since I missed Monday's post. School has been so busy this week and I've also had a bunch if extracurricular lately. I'll try and be more on time from now on (Don't hold me to that) Also! I got the idea for this one shot from @hanllo-kitty
Word Count: 0.8k
Song Suggestions: Invisible String - Taylor Swift
It was a good job, a great job really. The cafe was in a nicer part of town and people would subconsciously give nice tips so your pay was good. Rarely were customers terrible. Most people that came in were students or really busy people rushing in and going.
There were a few regulars. Like Joe, Joe was an eighty year old man who came in everyday for a coffee and a sandwich. While he waited he would talk about the lotto numbers and how his kids were doing. There was also Lola, she was a journalist who spent most of her day sitting in the corner of the cafe while refilling the same cup until closing.
But there was only one regular you would think about while getting ready for work.
Come on, I don't know his name. Don't shoot the messenger.
He'd been coming in for the past three months almost everyday, right after the cafe opened for a coffee. He always looked a little tired and acted like it too. He barely made conversation and normally shuffled out of the store in the same fashion as the other overworked people; quickly.
You hadn't learned his name yet. He always seemed to forget to say it when you asked, which resulted in you making up something.
"Guy with the sweater vest!"
"Guy in the purple!"
"Guy with the scarf!"
You get the point.
He was your favourite regular because of his looks. God, even when he was incredibly sleep deprived he looked beautiful. He had brown hair that fell just below his sharp jaw. Brown eyes that always happened to be in the light from the cafe window, making the small gold flakes in his eyes shine. He was normally dressed in a sweater vest and neutral pants, he probably worked at some type of office. The one part of him that stood out in his outfits were his converse, odd for the rest of his outfit. You could've sworn a few times you saw brightly coloured mismatched socks.
***
The sound of the cafe bell echoed through the nearly empty shop, having only opened half an hour ago. Smiling in the direction of the person walking in you quickly noticed it was 'Guy with *whatever he had on*" who came in. Something was different, he had thick glasses on. That was new.
"Hey, just the regular coffee and donut?" You put the order into the computer, looking back up at him. Taking in the new look.
"Yeah, thanks." His lips creased into a line, you called it a tired smile, the same one he made everyday. He handed over his money and poured the change into the tip jar then stepped back to wait for his order.
A couple minutes later you came back to the counter with his order. "Guy with the glasses!"
He did his usual, smiled and grabbed his order saying bye. But just when he reached the threshold of the door he paused and turned. "Why do you do that?"
Having already turned around you paused, this was the first time he'd talked to you in a clear voice. You weren't really sure what he meant. "Do what? Did I get your order wrong?"
He cleared his throat and seemed a little frustrated. "You never say my name, you just call me guy with something. Is it just to annoy me?"
"What? No, you've just never told me your name." Laughing a little, realising the misunderstanding.
"I didn't?" His face changed to confusion, "Oh my gosh, I didn't." He realised his mistake then his face flushed a shade of red.
"Don't worry, it's okay. Guy with the glasses." You laughed, looking around the cafe for a minute, strange it was still pretty empty.
"I am so sorry, I thought I told you and you just wanted to annoy me. I feel like a jerk, you seem so nice." Genuinely sorry he apologised profusely. "Can I make it up to you?"
Deciding to take the chance, you'd been daydreaming about this guy for months. "Well, maybe you could take me on a date." A little shocked by your own boldness, your face went up like twelve degrees.
"Uh, yeah…" He trailed off, clearly flustered. "Yeah, I would really like that."
"Well then, it's a date." You beamed, internally jumping up and down out of excitement. Since when were you so forward? He made that smile he made everyday before turning towards the door again.
That's when you realised.
"Wait!" You shouted, louder than you expected. Causing your coworker to drop a cup. "You still haven't told me your name."
"It's Spencer. I'll make sure to be back tomorrow." He nodded again and chuckled lightly before finally walking through the door.
God could tomorrow morning come any quicker.
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bothoutsiders · 3 months ago
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It had been tough for Tim lately, but he couldn't give up. Only because that was what Jason would've wanted. He knew that, they spoke about it so many times before. If something were to happen to me, you have to continue with your life, Timmy. Promise me that. And Tim, in his stubbornness, would answer with a Nothing is going to happen to you, I won't let it happen. I’ll kill anyone who even tries to hurt you. 
Sadly, Tim wasn't strong enough to protect Jason. He didn't kill anyone either. And, this time, Jason didn't come back to life.
He moved out of Gotham, because starting over sounded better. He could fulfil his side of all those daydreams he shared with Jason. Those silly little thoughts he would tell him about, and Jason would answer with That sounds great, we should do that! or I'm down for that! You'll be a hot teacher. I'll come visit you, pretend I'm your student, and flirt with you.
Jason won't be able to play his part, but it was a promise. Tim was going to play his.
"I know you're still new here, and you need time to understand how everything works, but we need everyone's help." The lady said as she poured some milk onto a plate.
"It's fine, Nina. I heard it was busy season. I'll do my best to help with the load of work." Tim paid attention to the stray cats that came to drink a bit of the milk. There were four of them, they waited their turn patiently, but never ventured into the office.
Another teacher had once told him, that although they were used to feeding a large number of cats, their numbers eventually dwindled to the four he had in front of him. Two of them would actually let humans pet them, while the other two would run away as soon as they saw someone walking close to them.
One of them called Tim's attention. It was a small cat, a kitten still, orange and with only one eye. It made him think of Jason. He wondered if humans could be reborn as animals, but as soon as he caught himself thinking silly things, he went back to work.
Days passed and every morning he would see the kitten. It didn't have a name. One girl would call him Ronnie, but another guy would call him Pirate. In Tim's mind, he would call him Jason.
Maybe he could adopt him, give him a home and, maybe... They could keep each other company. After all, they both had no one else.
Busy season didn't end anytime soon.
He had been so wrapped up, trying to understand everything, help around, keep up with everyone, that the news took him by surprise. They had caught the four cats and taken them to the vet for a basic check up because before, there used to be five cats. The one missing had to be put down due to a life-shortening illness that spreads fast between cats. A stray infected cat was dangerous.
Tim didn't think much about it, trusting they would all be fine.
Nina spoke, her words barely intelligible to Tim, but one word caught his immediate attention.
Tim’s head whipped toward Nina, so quickly, he thought he would snap his neck.
"What?"
"He's sick. He was so angry that we caught him, and it seems he is pissed to be caged, but we needed to check on him, and the vet just told us that he's sick."
Tim didn't know what to say, but he felt his eyes tear up. He missed an opportunity. Maybe if he had adopted the kitten the first day, he wouldn't have gotten sick. He wouldn't have to die. Again.
"I don't want to go, but my boss told me I have to be there in his last moments. I've done this before, and it's awful. I don't even like cats, but... It's a very depressing moment."
He thought about it, because maybe he could go and be there for the kitten, but he didn't feel ready either. Seeing someone die is something he didn't think he could stand again. It had happened so many times already.
He decided he couldn't do that. Maybe it was better if he ignored all that. It was just a cat, right? And it wasn't like the kitten had any bond with anyone, either.
All day, Tim thought about it. He wondered if there was something he could've done different, or how it would be to have that kitten at home.
"We have the pit ready." Nina said the next day, looking through the window and pointing at a small deep hole. "I asked the guys from the other department to help."
Tim looked at it, but made no comment. It sounded awful how they were getting ready to kill a living being. He knew it was a merciful death, but... It still sounded awful.
Two days passed when Nina spoke again about Jason.
"It was terrible." She rested her chin on both hands, looking behind Tim, remembering what happened. "Ronnie was pissed, hissing at everyone in his final moment. When we buried him, his body was still warm."
Tim scratched his neck nervously, leaving red marks behind.
Good thing it was time to go home.
He was surprised to feel tears rolling down his cheeks on his way home. But he wasn't so surprised to feel awful and believe that things could've gone better for Jason if only he had done something, but no. He had to be so busy, trying to distract his mind of the grief he was still feeling for losing his fiancé.
Maybe next time he would do things differently.
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17020 · 5 months ago
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BARBIE AND ???
part 2 of "DOLLHOUSE"! tags: toxic relationships, exes, ume and yn are iffy, just post-breakup texts. not proofread
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you tried to restrain yourself. you really did. but the text message was sent to umemiya's number. and it sure as hell didn't type itself.
Y/n L/n I want my jersey back The one my dad bought you
that's how close umemiya was to your family. he was spoiled rotten, constantly being gifted shirts, jerseys, headphones—you name it, he had it as a gift from you or your family.
and it wasn't that you were upset over the hundreds, even thousands of dollars that you spent on him—your family had spent even more, and that infuriated you. about fifteen minutes later, your phone pinged.
Unknown I'll give it to you when I return to Makochi, I'll give everything back I can send them to you with Kotoha since she's visiting in a few weeks
Y/n L/n Kotoha can give me the jersey, burn everything else I couldn't care less You wanna know what my therapist told me?
your heart was pounding out of your chest as your vision slowly blurred, crystalline tears filling your eyes.
Unknown What.
hajime umemiya had turned into someone you had never met before, and his actions showed the type of person he had become.
Y/n L/n I was right to ask for respect, and you should've listened to my insecurities and inconformity with those girls, especially since they have been trouble for our friends' relationships in the past. You should've done something, the bare minimum could've been to talk to them, and they would understand, they're women and they've understood before.
the text bubble flickered, appearing and disappearing every few seconds. It drove you insane.
Unknown Yeah sorry
Y/n L/n That's all you have to say?
Unknown Yeah, if I go back to you, i'll be repeating the cycle over again But hey, if you need a friend, feel free to send me a follow request. I'd like to keep you as a friend
you were not sure if umemiya had been high as a kite, or if he was being absolutely serious. was the all-mighty hajime umemiya a celebrity now? He was sure as hell acting like one.
Y/n L/n I would consider being your friend
Unknown YAY REALLY?
Y/n L/n In like 30 years. If we're not dating, I don't wanna know anything about you, so go ahead and burn in hell.
Unknown You seriously think I'd go back to someone who talks to me like that?
he had a fair point.
Y/n L/n You're nothing to me now, I can say what i please. You're a fucking immature idiot, Hajime Umemiya.
Unknown Don't even bother texting me anymore Y/n.
how's that for closure?
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taglist (open, yippee!): @stunie @kaiser1ns @nyxypoo @karasuglazer @littleplantfreak @maruflix @heartkaji
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fiddlefordisms · 4 months ago
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Canon Details and Analysis of Fiddleford McGucket Part 2
See the first part here
Let's flash-forward to what we know about Fiddleford after college. At some point, he got married to Emma May Dixon, and they had a son together (Tate McGucket), they live in Palo Alto, and Fiddleford seems to be self-employed: McGucket's Computermajigs. Now, don't get me wrong I enjoy Fiddauthor quite a lot (and I'll give some in-depth analysis and theorizing and thinking of possibilities about that particular relationship in that context at the very end), but I want to focus on Fiddleford's character and what we do know about his wife and child.
We know from Journal 3 that Fiddleford keeps a picture of his wife and son on his desk because he says it helps keep him "grounded." It's very important to note that this picture includes his wife - if they really wanted to imply that Fiddleford's relationship with his wife was on the rocks, they could've easily made it just a picture of his son. We know that Fiddleford must have had strong feelings for his wife because in the Gobblewonker episode of Gravity Falls, Old Man McGucket claims that when his wife left him, he built a pterodactyl-tron (building giant death robots is something he does when he's upset or wants attention). If he was wanting to leave that relationship, he would not have been upset about her leaving him.
In another page of Journal 3 when Fiddleford quits the portal project, Ford writes about how he should "go back to his doting family." This tells us that while Fiddleford and Emma May did have a fight over him not getting her a Christmas present, Ford still somehow had the impression that his family was "doting." I think it's important to point out that Fiddleford has been erasing his memories since the Gremloblin incident - and the fight scene with his wife happens very shortly before the big portal test. We know the memory-erasing gun has side effects. So, anytime Fiddleford "forgets" something should be looked at as highly suspect and indicative that his memory-erasing gun is affecting him.
We know that Fiddleford must have been a good father before he left to work on the portal for Ford via context clues. In the show, despite Tate's original home being in Palo Alto, Tate chose to pack up his things and live in Gravity Falls where his mentally-addled father now lives. He chose to do that and seeing what became of his father, even though he's the town's biggest embarrassment with a reputation for being a crazy old man - chose to stay. In Shmeb U Unlocked, we're informed that Tate is extremely intelligent and capable of predicting lottery numbers.
He could literally go anywhere he wanted if he wanted. And yet, he stays in Gravity Falls where his father lives. He must have really loved his father despite it being so hard with his father's mental state and the fact that he has every right to be angry that his father left. We know that Fiddleford must have really loved his son because of that picture on his desk, because much later even with all of his memory problems, he still remembers his son, and he's desperate to spend time with him, and in the end, they're able to repair their relationship and spend quality time together.
Now, let's talk about a couple of details that I think a lot of people overlook. During the stargazing scene in Journal 3, Fiddleford mentions offhand that he'd like a place where "the screen door ain't broken." I think this is a VERY interesting detail because it makes it sound like Fiddleford's business hadn't quite taken off yet and that he might have been struggling financially because he can't afford to get his door repaired.
This opens a doorway into a theory of mine that Fiddleford is being paid for his time as Ford's assistant. Now, we're not told this outright in Journal 3, but I think we can gather this from a little thing I like to call context clues. After all, Ford probably thought the exact nature of payment deals for his assistant didn't need to be included in his research and personal journal. There's nothing interesting about it. Additionally from a narrative standpoint, it might have come across as looking like Ford had to bribe Fiddleford to help him, and that's not the vibe they wanted for Fiddleford. They wanted to emphasize that these two are at the very least good friends and that Fiddleford is the type of person who will set aside his own personal projects and self-sacrifice to help a friend at a moment's notice.
We know from the show and Journal 3 that Ford was given grants to study the anomalies of Gravity Falls. Presumably, this money would not only cover the costs of field research equipment and a research base (the shack) but also money for a research assistant if needed.
Fiddleford's wife would have to be the most permissive, most doormat wife in THE HISTORY OF EVER to allow her husband to go up to Oregon to work on a project leaving her to not only take care of her son by herself but also have to pay all the bills and rent/mortgage by herself. We know this is not the case because she (rightly) did NOT let it slide that her husband forgot to get her a Christmas present.
Fiddleford would not have had much time to work on his own business while working on Ford's portal. At this point in his life, he has his mental faculties intact, he's proven time and again to be considerate and sweet (Alex Hirsch even refers to him as a sweet soul). He's big on making thoughtful gifts, he wants to help others (in Journal 3, he is seen fixing up the ferris wheel at the carnival where he meets Ivan, although it was definitely wrong - he had good intentions in wanting to help people with their bad memories, even in the show - Old Man McGucket shows up in the sap-hole with the dinosaurs having fixed a broken lantern - Fiddleford is exactly the type of person who would see a broken-down car on the side of the road and pull over and get out his toolbox and help that person out), and he loves his family very much. He would NOT let them go unsupported and floundering for themselves while in his right mind.
So, this leads me to believe that to help convince his wife to let him help his old college buddy with his project, he'd be getting paid for his help. Ford likely would've found this reasonable and might have suggested it himself if Fiddleford expressed wanting to help but not being able to leave his family without any support. It probably wasn't a lot, but it might have been a bit better than what he was currently drumming up via his own business. This could also be why Ford is so adamant about referring to Fiddleford as his assistant in the journals rather than his friend.
Do I think his wife might have still had some reservations about her husband going to Oregon and could be a fertile field for argument later? Yes. Absolutely. But I think the fact that she let him go in the first place and the fact that Fiddleford is self-employed rather than more conventionally employed generally shows that she was a supportive wife and trusted her husband.
I absolutely DO NOT think, as some have posited, that Fiddleford abandoned his wife and son (especially his son whom he dearly loves) to have a "Brokeback Mountain" situation with Stanford. That is a terrible misreading of Fiddleford's character AND the situation. Again, Fiddleford is the type of person who HELPS people, and how much more so for someone who is likely his best friend? Not only that, but his FIRST EVER friend. A friend who Fiddleford probably knows has been alone in Oregon for years and who also has a hard time making friends, a friend who probably doesn't call him enough because he's "busy" with his research (Ford even says in the journal that he "has no choice but to call Fiddleford"), a friend who is probably stubborn about asking for help who is asking HIM (the guy who helps) for help?
Fiddleford might even already be worried about him.
And this is a "project" - a project has a beginning and an end. Fiddleford was NOT expecting to stay in Gravity Falls. He was going to go there, help Ford, and then go back to his family whom he loves. I'm not saying complicated feelings couldn't have arisen (again, I am a Fiddauthor shipper), but I am saying that Fiddleford didn't go to Oregon because he was running away from marital problems with his wife (on an additional note - people are free to write what they want - But what is WITH bisexual erasure and villifying / ignoring female characters? I mean, just because she wasn't in the show or talked about much doesn't mean we should do female characters a disservice) and intending on cheating on her.
Because again - A) He loves his family (family photo on his desk which doesn't exactly scream "Make sweet love to me Ford") B) His anxiety issues C) His empathy - he doesn't have the narcissistic traits cheaters generally have D) He's likely Catholic and all the religious hang-ups with that - (also adultery being a sin is mentioned waaaaaay more than homosexuality) E) The hostile time period for queer folks.
Also, Stanford "I find romance baffling" (Journal 3 - stargazing scene) is probably one of the biggest indicators that no cheating went on (but I'll throw you "cheating Fiddleford" headcanoners a bone much later on in which I think a possible "cheating" scenario could have realistically occurred - and I'll tell you my reasons for why I personally don't believe that happened either, but I'll begrudgingly accept a "possibility" and let you guys go nuts with the idea.)
More to come in later parts.
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yikesmary · 2 years ago
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Heyyy!! Can u do like a bittersweet one abt Mingyu forgetting abt ur date cuz he went out with the other members
(NOT A) DATE NIGHT — kim mingyu x reader
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summary: sometimes it was hard dating an idol because of their busy schedules. after missing a date and being mia, mingyu tries to make it up to you.
note: nooo this is such a sad request!! however, I couldn't handle leaving it on a sad note so it ends really happy!
join my taglist!
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It was hard scheduling dates with Mingyu. Between his hectic schedule and your work schedule that never seemed to line up with his, it was difficult going out with each other.
Of course, that didn't deter either of you from at least trying. You've been together for about three years now, and some of these dates consisted of having to Facetime him when you just woke up while he was just going to sleep.
But this was the first time since you guys got together that he hasn't shown up or even texted he was going to be late for your date. So there you stood, dressed up, sat on the couch, feeling sad for yourself.
You tried calling Mingyu a couple of times, texting him to see if he was on his way, but there was no answer. With no way to get to him, you dialed the number of the next best person to reach out to.
"Wonwoo, is dance practice going on?"
"Dance practice ended about an hour ago," he told you.
You pursed your lips and automatically assumed that he forgot, since if you were to think about it any longer you were going to spiral and think of a worse reason, which is not what you wanted to do.
Sighing, you said, "Okay, thanks anyways," and was about to hang up.
"What's wrong?" Wonwoo asked.
"It's just, Mingyu and I were supposed to go on a date but he never ended up coming home, so..." You trailed off, the insinuation clear.
From the other side, you heard Wonwoo curse, presumably at Mingyu even if he wasn't there.
"He must've gone with the others to go to eat. They were talking about it during practice. I'll call one of the members right now—"
"No, it's alright. I'll just talk to him later,"
"You sure? Cheol's always got his phone on so I can probably call him so he can get Mingyu—"
"It's alright," you repeated.
Wonwoo sighed from the other line, and you could tell he wanted to say something, but he stopped himself and instead said, "Let me know how it goes,"
You didn't bother with a response and just hung up. And with a heavy heart, you decided to go to your bedroom and get ready for bed.
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Trying to sleep with the thought that your boyfriend missed your date was difficult. The most you could do was stare at the ceiling until you fell asleep out of pure exhaustion and not because you wanted to.
This, however, was quickly interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, which made you sit up. At the sound of Mingyu's footsteps approaching the bedroom, you grabbed your phone and pretended you were occupied by whatever was on the screen.
He walked in, and part of you hated to see how relaxed he looked. He could've pretended to look at least a tiny bit guilty. "Hey," you offhandedly greeted, your phone seemingly more important than him.
"Hey, baby," Mingyu said, giving you a sweet smile that almost melted all the anger you felt for him away. But you had to stay strong, so you didn't say anything.
From the corner of your eye, you could see that he was confused at your lack of reaction; whenever he would come home, you'd practically jump at him and ask him questions and kiss him all over his face even if he came from dance practice.
"How was dance practice?" You asked.
"It was good but tiring like always. But I went out with a couple of the members for food afterward, and that's always fun," Mingyu recalled.
"I tried calling you but you didn't answer," you told him, and a look of realization showed on his face.
"Oh, I turned off my phone in order to focus on practice and I forgot to turn it on. Sorry babe," he apologized.
You hummed in response then said, "It's fine, just get ready for bed so we can sleep,"
Mingyu nodded, still visibly confused about how you were acting, but went into the bathroom in order to get ready for bed.
However, he must've turned his phone back on, since you heard him curse and then ran out of the bathroom. You guessed that he must've seen your texts about reminding him for the date or Wonwoo scolding him for forgetting about the date.
"Baby, I am so sorry—" he started, rushing to your side of the bed and kneeling down so you guys made eye contact.
"Gyu, it's fine," you cut him off, even if you were lying through your teeth.
"No, it's not fine. I should've remembered and you shouldn't have to remind me. I could've set a billion reminders about the date and even asked some of my members to remind me—" Mingyu started rambling.
"Gyu, don't worry about it. However, this can't happen again, okay? If you're going to be late or just can't come, then text me. I don't wanna have to worry unnecessarily about where you are," you told him.
He stayed quiet for a bit, before saying, "...Are you sure it's fine?"
You nodded and he kissed you on the forehead.
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"Of course, it's not fine! When has it ever been fine to miss out on a date and not answer your girlfriend's texts?!" Wonwoo scolded Mingyu.
Mingyu pouted and tried to defend himself by saying, "She said it was fine! Why would she say it's fine if it really wasn't?"
Wonwoo sighed and massaged his temples as if he had a headache (he probably did from dealing with his best friend). "Mingyu, if someone says they're fine, more often than not it means it isn't fine," he said.
"Then what should I do?"
"She's your girlfriend, you should be answering that,"
"I've already messed up enough as it is," Mingyu sighed.
"Look, your dates started out as a way to spend time with each other despite your busy schedules, right?"
"Right,"
"And for the most part, she's been the one arranging all of the dates you guys have, right?"
"Yeah, unfortunately," Mingyu guiltily said. This fact always made him feel bad because made him feel like if he didn't put more effort in, you'd find someone who could.
"Then, do something that shows you're going to become better,"
Mingyu contemplated Wonwoo's words before he knew what he was going to do.
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Unlocking the door, you walked through and were surprised to see Mingyu sitting on the couch. "Babe, what are you doing here? You were supposed to be at work," you said.
Mingyu stood up and walked until he was stopped in front of you. Gently grabbing your forearms, he said, "Let's go on a date,"
Raising your eyebrows, you questioned, "You? Arranged a date?"
Nodding his head, Mingyu then said, "I know I haven't been the best boyfriend. With missing our date, turning off my phone, and not even letting you know that I was going to come home late, I'm just glad you're still here,"
You nodded, "Of course, I'm still here. I love you, but like I said last night, it can't happen again."
"And it won't. But, I have a surprise for you,"
Mingyu led you to your bedroom door, which was closed. He placed you in front of it and he opened it, and then you saw that your bedroom curtains were closed but your room was lit up by candles that were scattered around.
On your bed, were plates of some of your favorite foods that Mingyu cooked whenever he had the time. And on the TV, was your favorite movie already loaded in and paused.
Smiling at the cute sight, you turned to Mingyu, who looked nervous for your reaction. "You did this all for me?" you asked, touched.
"You've been working hard on your own job and trying to navigate dating me, so I wanted to do something that showed my appreciation for you," he told you.
"This is so sweet! I don't know what to say,"
"You don't have to say anything right now, since I have about a week in order to make up for everything,"
"What do you mean?"
"I know that you were planning to take your planned break from your job, so I asked to take a week off too," MIngyu informed you.
"But, Gyu, a week is a lot of time you're going to miss. How about the comeback?" you worriedly asked him.
"I've got it all figured out. Wonwoo's going to send me videos of the dance practices so I can learn them from home and I already learned and recorded my lines with Woozi," he told you.
"That's a lot to do from home," you commented.
"As long as I'm with you, I'm fine," he reassured you.
"So, a whole week?"
"A whole week. The members aren't allowed to contact me if it's work-related," Mingyu said.
"Did Wonwoo scold you for forgetting?"
"I almost thought he was going to strangle me for how dumb I was being,"
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taglist (if your name is not underlined, it means I was unable to tag you): @belladaises @winterpaos @wonhuiful @minhui896 @baekhyunimochibbh @x-alightinthedark @whywontyousetfree @minghaossv @coffeesandrains @slaveofmydreams @bmkgemz @dandycharmer @outrologist @stagefrjghts @dahliatopia @exo-saranghajaaa @uhlatcha @watermelon-sugars-things @miniminimingi @venzline @kokorit0 @withloveyjh @mikopikotobiko @lockburn-castle @mrs-kamisato @userjunhuii @mypsychicpizzaworld @againwithwonu @violetvoo @maevadobreva @hyperhanie @soonyoungblr @miesieu @baekhyunstruly @ryusol @xuenihao @itsrachelsplace @thatcuteandquietgirl @yoonzinoooo @swinterr @xyncthiaaa @dearxia
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vanderlesbian · 1 year ago
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141 dating a civilian
hii!! this is a self indulgent belated bday gift to myself (im 20 now...) but i hope u guys enjoy it!! also feel free to leave requests in my asks bc i am so bad at thinking of prompts but ive been wanting to write so bad LOL
writing this had made me realize that i love writing gaz content........i am obsessed with him.........
gn reader! no warnings :)
masterlist
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captain john price
- price loves being around you—you bring a sense of normalcy that relaxes him. when he's home, he enjoys doing domestic things around the home. he offers to do the laundry, he'll make you tea in the mornings, he feeds the dog and cat you two raise together and will go with you on any errands you need to run. when he's with you, he never thinks about work, which makes you happy because you hate to see him overworking himself.
- i feel like you two would meet through laswell. a mutual friend, you and price would meet one another at a pub or something of the sort. immediately, the two of you take an interest in one another, and laswell would catch onto that rather quickly and finds it endearing. when getting to know one another, you mention the fact that you live alone, which gives price the excuse to hand you his number. "in case you need anything", is what he told you, and you could've sworn you saw laswell snickering behind him. regardless, you ended up texting him a few days after that, asking him if he knew how to fix cars.
- loves going on vacations with you!! when price has a decent period of time off, he'll ask you if you want to go somewhere, to which you always answer yes. road trips are his favorite, because driving for long periods of time is something calming for him and he enjoys the fact that it's just the two of you traveling. maybe you'll go camping, or perhaps you'll drive a country over to spend a few days in a different city; whatever it is, you and price always have a nice time. while he gets to travel a lot, he recognizes that you don't have the same opportunity, so he loves to take you places as see your reactions to things. when he's deployed, he's always on the lookout for places to take you later.
- one of your favorite things to do is visit price while he's in the office. you usually bring him a meal, whether it be home made or take out because you know he's going to forget about grabbing himself something to eat. he always thanks you with a kiss, then you linger for a moment to speak to him, giving him time to eat and take a break from his work. while you're visiting price, all of his attention is on you, and if a soldier knocks on his door and asks to speak to him, he'll use his captain voice to tell them to come by later unless it's an emergency.
- price is very proud to call you his partner. although he tries not to bring you up too often at work because of privacy and professional reasons, he likes to mention you casually every now and then, especially with laswell or the other 141 members. he's proud of the work you do, no matter what your career is; he's just likes to brag about his amazing partner. he will do his signature v shaped smile whenever someone says in surprise,"oh, your partner is a/n [occupation]? how cool!"
simon "ghost" riley
- ghost is a listener, not a talker. and boy, does he love listening to you ramble on about your day. he finds it cute; the way you complain how expensive your coffee was that morning, or how you couldn't decide what to wear to simply go pick up a snack from the store. his responses include a lot of "oh really?", "i bet", and some snarky comments when you bring up a coworker that you don't particularly like. ghost is quiet, but his little responses show that he's well invested in your stories.
- just like everything else in his life, ghost keeps his relationship with you very private. it took him quite a while to even tell any of the other 141 members that he was in a relationship, simply because he didn't feel the need to tell them. he also wanted to protect you; not that he didn't trust the other members, but he was scared of your name accidentally being said to the wrong person. you were innocent, and ghost didn't want to ruin that innocence with the dark realities of his job and put you in danger.
- listen; meeting him at a music store. you would definitely be the one to initiate things, so when you saw a tall, handsome man flipping through records beside you, it made you look for an excuse to speak to him. "that's a good album", you would then finally speak up after watching him pull out a vinyl by the doors. ghost would honestly be taken aback; no one ever really strikes up conversation with him in public. "yeah" would be his response, but the dryness of it didn't stop you from continuing the conversation. after you two begin dating, ghost will often bring up how you were insistent on speaking to him, which never fails to bring a shy blush to your cheeks.
- you think it's amusing to have such a "scary" looking boyfriend. he tags along behind you whenever the two of you go out, and you often forget how large and intimidating he looks to others, especially because he always wears dark colored outfits and a face mask out in public. imagine ghost lingering behind you like a lost puppy while you mindlessly look through clothes at a store. when you're at the register, you notice the cashier glancing behind you, forgetting that ghost is looming over you like a bodyguard.
- speaking of others reactions, you love showing ghost off to people. you'll be spending time with friends, family, coworkers—whoever, and you get so excited whenever they ask if you have a boyfriend. you think it's funny to see their eyes widen when you pull up a photo saying "this is simon, he's deployed right now but (blah blah blah)". you had asked ghost for his permission to show photos of him to others while he wasn't around, and at first he was hesitant, but after hearing about the reactions he gives people, he doesn't care anymore. people think "that's their boyfriend?", which makes ghost smile to himself because yes, he's all yours.
kyle "gaz" garrick
- you two have this thing where the moment he opens the door after coming home from a mission, you'll sprint into his arms and he never fails to pick you up off your feet and squeeze you tight. gaz greets you like he hasn't seen you in years, covering your face and neck in kisses and spinning you around in his arms for what feels like forever.
- loves to facetime you when he's away. sometimes you'll be in different timezones, but both of you will be willing to stay up at 3 in the morning jusst to talk to one another. gaz always gives you room tours of whatever place he's staying at while deployed, or he'll call you while he's out shopping to ask what souvenir you'd like best. sometimes the other 141 boys will pop in to say hello, or gaz will shove the camera in their face to ask if they have anything to say to you.
- i feel that gaz would easily become jealous, especially because he can't be with you all the time. while he's away from you, you'll text or call him about an encounter at work or while you were out and about where someone tried hitting on you, earning a snarky remark from gaz. they always make you giggle because you're aware how protective he is of you, and they're often silly remarks like "they're lucky i wasn't there" or "should've told 'em your boyfriend is 6'5 and a wrestler"
- gaz is younger, so i feel that you would be a university student or something of the sort when you first met him. working part time at a local coffee shop at the time, you vividly remember gaz complimenting you the first time you served him. "you're very pretty/handsome, by the way" he said confidently, but quickly walked off before you could thank him. after that, gaz came in as often as he could, learning something new about you each time he came in, and it got to a point where you would simply give him a drink or pastry for free each time he came in. eventually he would ask you out, offering to take you somewhere after your shift, to which you immediately agreed to.
- when gaz visits your place, it's always like a silly little sleepover. the two of you will watch comically bad movies, make homemade pizza, play those couple's card games and he'll listen to you talk about any gossip you have. when gaz is with you, he takes it as his time to just be himself because he's so comfortable in your presence. he doesn't have to worry about being formal with you, and the two of you are equally as silly as you spend time with one another.
john "soap" mactavish
- soap doesn't like to bother you with his work. when he's with you, he'll always be so upbeat and playful, but you've learned to be able to notice when he's particularly stressed or tired. he insists that he's fine, telling you that you don't have to worry about him as he tries to play it off. he's a bit stubborn about it, so sometimes you have to bother him just a bit before he finally gives in and tells you what's up, or simply agrees to laying down and having a rest.
- okay, picture this. you meet soap at a dog park. i think he would have a german shepherd...which is besides the point, but when your dog and his both stop in their tracks to be friendly with one another, both of you feel that it's only natural to make conversation, right? the two of you quickly hit it off, to which you credit mostly to soap for being much more extroverted than you are, and the two of you talk about your dogs for a bit before the conversation focuses on yourselves. smoothly, soap would ask for you to join him on another trip to the dog park sometime, using the excuse that your dogs seemed to like each other.
- soap loves to text you while he's away, and other than gaz, he would be the one to text you the most out of any of the boys. he mostly sends a lot of random pictures of things he says reminds you of him, but will also update you on a bunch of random little things he's doing. "just shit in this french bathroom" "johnny i don't need to know that" "had to tell somebody"
- will leave plenty of his clothes for you to wear while he's gone, and it's practically all you wear during that time. you'll leave the house in an outfit completely made up of your boyfriend's clothes because they're just so comfortable, and it makes you feel less lonely having his scent lingering with you. even when soap is home, you still constantly wear his clothes, and 90% of his wardrobe is practically yours.
- soap would love to visit YOU at work. you forget your chapstick? he's on his way. you text him that you're hungry and forgot to pack a meal? he's bringing you your favorite fast food. although he's busy and can't stop by all the time, soap tries to stop by as often as he can, and all of your coworkers have learned to recognize him. "here comes johnny" one of them will point out, making you quickly whip your head around to look.
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am-i-the-asshole-official · 11 months ago
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AITA for giving someone an ultimatum without letting them know and then ghosting them when they failed said ultimatum that they didn't know about?
This happened a while ago, but I still think about it occasionally.
So I (18F at the time) had a friend, S (18 FTM) in high school. (when this takes place) We weren't super close, as we'd only met senior year and would only hang out at lunch, since we had no classes together. We had a pretty average high school acquaintance/friendship.
Then on the Friday before finals/graduation week, S confessed that he thought I was cute and asked me out on a date. I said yes, as I had a secret crush on him but didn't act on it before, as I didn't want to ruin the friendship/make it weird. So I was glad my feelings were reciprocated. We cuddled and held hands at the rally that day (too nervous to actually kiss or anything in front of the whole school yet) and exchanged numbers with the intention of going on a date in the near future, as he couldn't go after school that day.
This is where I feel I might be justified.
After I got home, I texted him "hey we never actually decided on a day/time for a date. I'm free any time, when is good for you?" And we ended up deciding to meet up after school the following Monday. Then we spend the weekend texting about dumb shit.
Monday rolls around. I don't see S at school, but figured it wasn't a big deal, as we didn't actually have any classes together. After school, I wait by our agreed upon meeting place and he doesn't show up. I text him, asking what was up and he responds that he didn't go to school. He didn't feel like going, so called out "sick". (I'm not belittling his sickness, he literally told me that he wasn't actually sick, he just didn't feel like going to school and had his mom call him in sick)
For whatever reason (I was young? Dumb? Bored? Liked him? All of the above?) I forgave him for standing me up and told him we could go on a date whenever he was free and was able to get a ride or I could get a ride to his place if he wanted, as S lived in the next town over. (Neither of us had cars and public transportation in our area was not great)
Then he strung me along for an entire summer. We would text almost daily. (I use the word "text" very loosely- he exclusively used snapchat- I actually grew to HATE snapchat during this time, as he refused to text on the phone and insisted I download snapchat just to talk to him....bro wtf) We'd mostly talk about inconsequential shit- what show we were watching, what music we were listening to, etc. Every once in a while, I'd go "so...about that date...?" and he'd blow me off, making an excuse about not having a ride or something lame.
I gave him an out pretty early on. After the 2nd or 3rd excuse, I said "hey it's cool if you asked me out on a dare (it's happened before) or if you changed your mind or something. I swear I won't be mad, just let me know now so I don't waste my time" S insisted that he actually intended to go on a date, he just had transportation trouble.
This is where I may be the asshole.
So, after a whole summer (I think it was the end of August or maybe even September) I got fed up and decided in my head to test him secretly. I decided (without informing him of my plan, of course) that I was going to give him one last chance to take me on a date or I'd ghost him. I would ask him one last time when he was available to go on a date, and if he still made excuses, I would ghost him.
So I did just that. I asked him, he made some excuse about not having a ride, and I cut off contact. When I thought of this test, I had also noticed that lately, I would always be the one to message him first and initiate conversation, so I also wanted to test if he would contact me first, as a 2 in 1 test.
HOWEVER, I didn't block him. I just stopped contacting him first and ghosted him with no explanation. He could've contacted me at any point, but didn't.
I never saw or heard from him again.
I know he's the asshole for asking me out, standing me up, and stringing me along, but am I also the asshole for giving him an ultimatum without his knowledge and ghosting him?
What are these acronyms?
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bibiwrld · 4 months ago
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SHE’S IN THE WOODS— l.howlett x black fem! mutant!
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Pairing: Logan Howlett! x Black fem! mutant oc!
Contains: Scott is an ass, Logan tries to do the right things, animalistic oc. (Written with Logan from the first movie X-Men in mind)
part 1
"Is that all of them?" Ororo asked, mentally counting the frightened mutant children.
Charles gave a specific number, 37, there were only 33 mutant children in their possession.
"Fuck, there's four missing." Jean cursed.
Ororo began barking orders, wasting no time. "Jean, help me bring these kids into the jet. Kitty and Hank, you two go upstairs and search, Scott and Logan, do the same downstairs."
Kitty and Hank were already on the move. Then there was Logan and Scott, bickering at a time like this.
"Now you guys!" Ororo shouted sternly.
There was no time to waste.
Logan grunted and followed her orders, Scott failing to keep up with Logan's incredible speed.
"I told you to stop running so fa—"
"Shh." Logan put a finger up, shushing Scott's loud complaining, then averted his finger to the green glowing pod filled with liquid in the center of this old looking lab.
"Did Charles mention an adult mutant?" Logan stared at the unconscious woman floating in the pod.
She was bare, nothing but her long, coily hair and odd metal helmet on her head, along with wires and large syringes embedded into her skin and a tube in her mouth.
"No, but we shouldn't interfere." Scott said firmly, giving Logan a stern look.
"You can't be fucking serious, Summers." Logan tilted his head. "We can't leave her here." Logan has had his fair shares of experiments and it's not something he'd wish on anyone, not even Scott.
"We were given specific orde-"
"You know I don't give a fuck." Logan barked back, a strong bass in his gruff voice. "When has Charles ever turned away a mutant, huh?"
Scott knew Logan was right, for once. "If shit goes south, it was your call and you're reporting it back to Charles."
"Whatever, let's get her out of here." Logan looked around at the panel of buttons, not knowing which one to press. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.
"Let's just hurry this up." Scott put a finger to his goggles, his lasers slicing the bottom of the pod, breaking it, with Logan ducking at Scott's sudden and reckless actions.
Logan snarled. "Scott!" His long metal claws unsheathed in an instant, shielding himself from flying debris.
Water rushed out, slightly flooding the front of the lab, followed by sparks of electricity and a large amount of smoke. The unknown mutant's body falling onto the ground, going unnoticed by the men because of the thick smoke.
An emergency alarm started going off, causing the room to glow red, startling both men.
"What the hell, Summers?" Logan whipped his head towards his teammate in disbelief and anger. "You could've killed her."
"But I didn't." A smug smirk on his lips. "Now let's get her and go." Scott motioned to where the pod once was, glass crunching underneath his black heavy boots.
Logan was about to follow suit when he heard Scott grunt and his body flying past him, and into a wall.
His ears perked at the sound of glass crunching and nose twitched to the smell of a new scent.
A short, slim and toned body emerged from the smoke, slowly swaying from side to side, she could barely stand on her two feet. Settling on all fours, as she found it comfortable, she sat in a dog like position.
With one small hand, she pulled the tube that was pushed deep within her throat. She gagged and coughed at the feeling, finally removing all of it entirely. Painfully tugging at the wires and syringes in her, she winced and groaned in a small voice.
Logan watched as the massive holes where the syringes once were, close up in an instant, his head slowly cocking to the side, trying to figure out what she was.
Labored breathing, eyes blown wide and dilated, canines sharp and nails extended like claws, her heart rate was irregular with the inhumane high she was on. She didn't notice Logan, so she began studying herself, staring at her palms, then flipping them over to stare at her hands, more so her claws.
Then she began touching her body, hands roaming, then traveling to her head, panicking when she felt the helmet. She clawed at it, desperately trying to get it off, panic and fear instilled in her.
"Hey, hey." Logan squatted to her level and retracted his claws, trying not to seem threatening, his rough voice now hushed. "Let me help you, princess."
She was on full alert, growling and hissing at Logan.
"How long have you been down here, huh bub?" Inching towards her slowly, he unzipped his leather uniform jacket.
Shooting him a quizzical look, her entire demeanor changed, confused as to why the man was undressing himself. Her curious eyes loomed over his bare, buff chest, hair cascading from his pecks, to his abs, then his belly button, his happy trail leaving her mind to go wild with her imagination as to what’s beyond it.
“Here, bub.” He draped the jacket over her, helping her put her arms through the sleeves.
He brought her to her feet, noticing how they trembled when she stood only on two of them.
She sniffed him, from his neck, to his chest, to his arms. Logan smiled softly at her curiosity.
“They could’ve had the decency of giving you clothes.” He zipped up the jacket on her, stepping back to look at her. The jacket was rather large on her, her hands disappearing in the sleeves and the jacket itself slightly past her thighs. It was the best he could do for now.
She quickly went back to her dog like sitting position, not being able to stand on her feet for long.
“Logan!” Scott’s voice rang.
Triggering the unknown mutant, she darted towards Logan at full speed, her body moving faster than her mind could, but she was stopped mid air by Scott's beam, knocking her into a nearby wall.
Logan watched as she laid, then brought his attention to Scott, glaring daggers at him. “You fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”
"Let's get the hell out of here, Logan!” Scott urged in fear that the unknown mutant would get back up.
"I was making progress!” He shouted, taking large strides towards Scott.
"She was two seconds away from mauling you!” He retorted.
They were now in front of each other, rage radiating from both of them.
“Because you fuckin’ scared her!”
Scott exhaled deeply. “She’s a danger to not only us, but to herself. She can’t fucking control herself.” He turned and began walking away. “Let’s go.”
Logan stood still, as if he was cemented into the ground. “We can’t leave her.”
“As co leader of this mission, I'm ordering you to retreat."
Logan clenched his fists and grumbled under his breath. "Fine."
They finally boarded the jet , but not without the others staring at them oddly.
"What the hell happened downstairs?" Hank asked, glancing between the two irritated men.
“And where’s your jacket?” Kitty rose a brow.
Logan stayed silent, arms crossed as her stared out the jet. And Scott, oh he couldn't wait to complain about how Logan is a terrible teammate and almost got them killed.
After making it back to the mansion, Logan wasted no to time in going to Charles about the mysterious animal-like mutant he encountered.
With no hesitation, Charles went to the cerebro with Scott, Logan, Storm, Hank and Jean tagging along.
"Hmm." Charles hummed to himself. "Well I can't find her."
“What the hell do you mean you can’t find her?” Logan slammed down his hand.
“Logan.” Ororo warned.
“Sorry.” He sighed. “Why can’t you find her?”
“Something..must be blocking her mind from being reached.” Charles brought a finger to his chin. “Did she perhaps have some type of device on her head when you found her?”
“She did.” Scott answered before Logan, shooting him a smirk.
“She was trying to get it off, but I stopped her.” Logan thought back to that moment, mentally cursing himself in regret.
“It’s okay, Logan. I know you were only trying to help.” Charles reassured him.
“So, what do we do?” Hank asked, adjusting his glasses.
“There is nothing we can do.” Charles simply answered, his wheelchair turning to face them.
“What the hell do yo—”
“Logan.” Jean side eyed him.
He huffed in defeat, stuffing his hands in the front pockets of his old jeans. “So we’re gonna wait?”
“Precisely. She will make herself known to us.”
part 2
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imagine-darksiders · 1 year ago
Text
On the Ropes - chapter 23.
CYNOSURE.
Summary: You're in trouble. More trouble than you seem to realise...
Montgomery Gator X F!Reader
Slight Freddy X F!Reader
Tags: Jealousy, Protectiveness, Hurt/comfort, Angst, Violence, Anger, Past abuse, Friends to lovers, dialogue.
Please note, I haven't seen anything to do with the Ruin DLC. I'm writing this with just the base game in mind.
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If it were possible for a human to retreat inside their own shadow, you'd happily let go of your crutches and sink down into the safety of the darkness stretched across the daycare floor behind you, hiding within yourself where nobody – not Andy, nor Freddy or Monty or Eclipse – would be able to see you.
You want to be small.
You want to be still.
So small and so still that you could slip out of view entirely to conceal yourself amongst the dust and atoms that are naked to the human eye.
You'd only ask for a few hours. A few hours to be unimportant and unnoticeable.
Is that such an outlandish ask?
If it meant you don't have to be looked upon by a man with anger contorting his expression into something cold and ugly, you'd disappear in a heartbeat.
You've wished for similar things before, in entirely dissimilar situations.
“Andy,” you croak, trying not to dwell on how timid and yielding your voice has fallen, “I-I'm sorry, okay? I know I should've gone straight home-”
“So why didn't you?” The speed at which he cuts off your sentence is jarring enough to send you shrinking behind your shoulders and dropping your eyes to a spot on the mechanic's shirt that shifts across his heaving chest, slack then taut then slack with each breath.
He's asked a valid question, you remind yourself, swallowing thickly. And really, what did you expect? He has every right to be angry with you. You were discharged from the hospital and expected to go straight home to rest your broken ankle, but instead, you've returned to the very building where you sustained your injury in the first place not twelve hours later.
Sparing a second to go over the motions in your mind's eye, you start to get a picture of where you might have made a couple of minor errors in judgement.
Gulping past a lump of nerves in your throat, you raise your eyes to the mechanic's again and offer him your excuse, though you can only imagine how feeble it must sound in his discerning ears. “I... just wanted to make sure they... I needed to see that everyone was okay. Monty was half-destroyed, Andy, I couldn't just sit at home and not-”
Abruptly, the mechanic's jaws split around a sharp bark of laughter that causes Eclipse's fingers to cinch several pascals tighter around your bicep.
Even Freddy's ears flinch back at the piercing sound.
“Pah! You needed to know they were okay?” Andy parrots, giving his head a shake and planting his hands squarely on his hips. Seconds later, his face twists up to aim a scowl at you, all traces of false amusement gone. “And why in the Hell didn't you just call me!?” he points out, jabbing a forefinger against his chest, “You have my number! You could've just asked me! I'd've checked on 'em for you so you could go home!” You don't miss how his voice cracks on the final word. “What the Hell were you thinkin', kid?”
And you wish you had an answer for him.
You could counter his query with one of your own. Like whether or not he truly thinks you wouldn't have just gone to plex anyway, especially after he told you what had happened to the attendants.
Something solid bumps gently against your good ankle, and a hurried glance down reveals that Monty's segmented tail has swept close behind you, curling up around your legs as the gator shifts on his hydraulics and leans closer into your side.
It's a subtle shift, or as subtle as a three tonne animatronic can be. Privately, you hope he doesn't say anything in your defence. You can't imagine that Monty speaking his mind will lead to a peaceable outcome between he and the mechanic right now.
But if the ornery gator was on the cusp of formulating a response on your behalf, he never gets to spit it from his voice-box.
Forcing a rough exhale through his teeth, Andy raises a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed firmly shut. “Look, kid, I...” He trails off to sigh again, turning on his heel with a fist clenched at his side. You try not to stare at his bone-white knuckles, all too aware that Freddy's optics are adhered to your face.
“You got any idea how scared I was when I went to the Hospital this mornin' and you weren't there?”
Pressing your lips together, you numbly shake your head, though you're not sure he's even looking for a response.
Without turning to face you, he finally lets out a tired, old exhale, tipping his head back to glare up at a nondescript point on the ceiling. ”... It's been a hell of a long day.”
You have to wonder if he managed to get any sleep last night with how thickly his voice dips.
Although you're conscious you've used it to death, you nonetheless can't refrain from falling back on your typical, knee-jerk response. “I'm sorry, Andy...” you apologise.
“I know you're sorry,” he grunts waspishly without missing a beat as he begins to march towards the daycare entrance, “Now you'd better get your sorry ass to the car park, stat. M'callin' you a cab...”
“But-”
The mechanic's boots squeak on the rubber mats, silencing you when he whirls about to jab a finger at you, ignoring Monty's guttural hum of warning.
“But nothin'!” he snaps, which in turn has you snapping your mouth shut, “I ain't in the mood today, okay? Now get!”
His command echoes out through the cavernous room, disappearing into the rafters hanging high over the daycare.
As Andy stands there, seething, you keep your feet planted firmly on the ground. With Monty's plates quivering on your right, the attendant's fingers squeezing wrinkles into the sleeve of your shirt, and Freddy hovering between you, sending apprehensive glances between you and the mechanic, you take a shaky breath to steel your nerves before you finally manage to rush out, “But what about Eclipse?”
It's funny. Before today, you'd never actually seen a vein bulge in real life.
Andy's temple seems to throb for a moment as he stares at you, jaw creaking open in disbelief.
In another second, his brows are wrenched to the centre of his forehead and he makes a sound of incredulity at the back of his throat, almost a laugh, but a dangerous one.
“Eclipse?” he scoffs, “Who the Hell is-?”
Somewhere overhead, a mechanical 'thunk' rolls across the ceiling.
At once, Andy's question falls silent and he quirks a brow, tilting his neck back to squint at the overhead lights.
Following his gaze, you nearly jump out of your skin when the daycare is suddenly and inexplicably plunged into a jarring darkness.
Barely a fraction of a second passes before Eclipse's hand on your arm goes ramrod stiff, and in doing so, turns their grip on you damn near tight – tight enough that it hurts, which instantly sets alarm bells ringing in your head like claxons.
Neither Sunnydrop nor Moondrop, in all your history of service as a cleaning lady here, have ever once caused you even a sliver of harm, not by accident or otherwise.
Putting aside the fact that their programming is irrefutably air-tight given their proximity to children, Sun and Moon have informed you repeatedly that they'd rather tear out their own circuitry before they'd ever harm a friend.
So to have their grasp on your forearm turn borderline painful isn't just surprising, it's downright unfathomable.
In another blink of an eye, the darkness bearing down on you evaporates as the lights overhead promptly buzz back to life, flicker once, then finally stabilize in the familiar, steady hum, glowing brightly down onto the daycare.
But still, Eclipse's grasp doesn't shift.
Oblivious to your sudden wince of discomfort, Monty raises his snout to peer at the ceiling, optics narrowed uncertainly. “A power surge?” he hums.
“You gotta be shittin' me,” Andy growls, ignoring the little burst of static that leaves Freddy's voice-box at his vulgarity, “First the animatronics go haywire, now the lights're on the blink. What's next?”
None of them seem to have noticed the eerily motionless giant looming at your side, nor the look of trepidation you're sending the large, spindly fingers encasing your arm.
“Uh, Eclipse?” you utter tentatively, giving your limb an experimental tug. You don't like the way they're staring at Andy, their once luminous optics as dark as tar pits and their head locked at a rigid, right angle, sun rays extended to their maximum length.
Silicone fingers tighten a fraction when you try to reclaim your limb, prompting a soft hiss to seep in through your teeth.
You may as well have let out a bloodcurdling scream with how violently Monty tears his optics off the lights and whips his head in your direction, fast enough that you can hear his motors whirring noisily to try and keep up with the movement.
Oh no...
“Wait, Monty –” you start, but you already know by the wrinkling of his snout and the dilation of his aperture pupils that he's seen the source of your trouble.
Crimson optics lock onto the vice-like hand secured around your arm.
There's a single second where you see the gator's processor scan over the pressure that Eclipse is exerting before, in a snap, the daycare explodes with the sound of a furious, thundering bellow.
“HEY! GET OFF'A HER!”
Before you can even flinch, one of Monty's purple servos stretches across your body to latch around Eclipse's wrist.
“Monty!” you shout, alarmed, “It's okay, stop!”
At the sound of your voice, the attendant's faceplate tilts down, apparently unfazed by the gator's grip, and you can't do a thing to combat the visceral shudder that crawls up the back of your neck when your eyes meet their dark, unlit optics.
There isn't a trace of the irradiant orange light that had once glowed behind their casing, light that had given an impression of real life beneath the plastic shell.
Now, they're black as pitch, save for two, nearly imperceptible pinpricks of... of purple light...
At the base of your neck, tiny hairs shoot upright, prickling at the sense of a danger you don't quite yet comprehend.
The overheads must be shining through the back of their faceplate for a moment, there and gone in a flash, because as soon as you blink, the violet pupils wink out, yet Eclipse's grasp on you remains stubbornly in place.
“Hey!” Andy hollers from somewhere behind you, “What's goin' on back there!? Thought I told you to get to the car park!”
“I'm trying!” you retort, placing a hand on Eclipse's and attempting to gently coax their fingers from your arm. At the same time, several tonnes of gator grabs the collar of your shirt and gives it a rough pull, which sadly only results in nearly strangling you when Eclipse's grip doesn't budge an inch.
“I said let 'er go!” Monty snarls, giving your shirt another yank, throttling you in the process.
Rather than continue to play the role of 'rope' in this impromptu game of tug-of-war between two powerful animatronics, you hurriedly blunder out, “Monty! Please! Let go, you're making it worse!”
“I'm tryn'a help!” he insists.
Looming over you like a dark sun, Eclipse twists their faceplate in a full rotation, their beaming grin far more menacing than you recall.
At your back, Andy's scowl disappears in a blink, his mouth falling open in abject horror.
Quick as a flash, he snatches his stun baton from his belt and skirts around Freddy, barking, “Get out of the way, gator!”
Throwing a glance back over your shoulder, your eyes zero in on the prod in his white-knuckle grip and you let out a gasp, whipping your head back to Eclipse and pleading, “Guys! What's wrong? Please, talk to me! I-it's okay!”
They lean forwards, twisting their hand into your shirt until your knees buckle and tears spring to your eyes.
Something's wrong.
Deeply wrong.
You're trapped.
It seems delayed, but at long last, a creeping terror begins to sink its gnawing teeth into your stomach.
Sucking down a wobbly breath, you fill your lungs and let everything go again in a desperate shout, hurling out the words you never once assumed you'd have to use in their presence. “Sun! Moon! Stop, you're hurting me!”
And as if it's a shut down switch, as if that's what gets through whatever has momentarily assumed control of their processor - more than your struggling, more than Monty's crushing hand on their wrist - Eclipse turns their head a click to the left, and their optics flicker, orange, then black, then back to orange again.
“F..friend?” they rasp, their voice-box laden with static.
Monty freezes at your side, the plates on his neck flared like a spitting cobra as Eclipse shifts their gaze down to the hand still wrapped around your arm.
Then, in a sudden rush of movement, the attendant all but rips their appendage from you and staggers backwards, all four of their limbs springing up to catch their head, and in doing so, you're sent toppling backwards on unsteady legs, clutching at your aching arm.
“Gotcha!” Monty grunts triumphantly as he releases Eclipse in favour of planting his hands on your waist and lifting you into the air in one, swift movement, spinning his torso around to place you gently on the floor behind his tail before he whirls back to face the attendant, chest puffed out and teeth bared, giving him the look of a bristling wall of metal and plastic.
You have to lean around his splayed arms to see Eclipse is still clutching at their faceplate, babbling incoherently until they give an abrupt, violent jolt, their knees collapsing out from underneath them.
“Eclipse!” you cry, hobbling around the gator, who only throws an arm out to catch you in the stomach, halting you in your step.
Andy appears in your peripheral, his hand still clamped around the prod.
“What in the goddamn shit is goin' on with this thing!?” he hollers.
You nearly gasp when two gentle paws land on your shoulders and coax you backwards, dragging your crutches along the ground.
“Miss Y/n,” Freddy's voice thrums over your head, “Please, don't get too close!”
Eclipse's optics flicker to life once again, only to dim a second later as that eerie, violet light sparks into existence and swivels in your direction.
There you stand, half hidden behind Montgomery Gator and engulfed in Freddy's shadow, one hand gingerly cradling your elbow, staring back at the attendant with downturned lips and upturned brows.
Drained of fight, beset upon by pain and confusion, you forget to hide your expression.
You forget that they know the look of fear all too well.
“F-Friend!” they sputter, peeling one, quivering hand away from their face and stretching it out towards you, their fingers seeking a connection with you, even metres away, “Friend? I-i-i t ' s m – m e...”
Before you can utter even a whimper in response, the animatronic suddenly throws their mechanical neck back and lets out a gut-churning shriek, three of their four hands scrabbling erratically at their faceplate.
“NNNGH!!!! GET OUT!” they howl like a wounded animal.
It's a horrifying thing to watch. And yet you can't tear your eyes off them as they rock forwards, peering through rigid fingers that cover the upper half of their face.
It's rather telling that even Monty steps back when the attendant once again buzzes and jerks as if their system is roiling with far too much electricity, a live-wire dropped in a puddle of water.
“GET! OUT!”
Their shout extends, growing and swelling in volume to an awful crescendo, until suddenly, at the apex of their cry when you're sure your eardrums might burst, the sound cuts out, as if their voice box has been inexplicably disconnected by unseen hands.
And for a long, heart-wrenching moment, they go entirely, frighteningly still....
Stricken, you let your jaw hang open, gaping at Eclipse's stiff frame as it starts to teeter over like an enormous obelisk falling slowly to the earth.
With an awful cacophony of rattling parts and scraping metal, they come crashing to the ground, none of it muffled against the soft-play mats underneath them. To your horror, a trail of smoke drifts up from the back of their head, beneath the little, black box where their CPU is housed.
Several long and tedious moments seem to drag by at an excruciating pace before finally, finally, you release the breath you've been holding for the last twenty seconds.
It escapes you in a rush, letting you know just how long you'd kept it trapped inside your lungs.
That single breath has a ripple effect, spreading outwards and touching Freddy first.
“Oh dear...” the bear mutters, his hold on your elbows going slack.
At once, you lurch forwards on your crutches before he can re-secure his grip.
“Guys!” you belt out, limping past a startled Monty, only to find yourself drawn up short by a heavy hand falling on your shoulder.
“Hold up, lady” the gator barks, easily keeping you in place even as you try to duck out of his grasp.
“God damn, shit,” Andy rasps, carelessly hurling his baton back onto his belt, “What is goin' on with these machines!?”
The mechanic once again bulldozes over Freddy's sputtered comment about refraining from vulgarity in favour of approaching the downed animatronic, moving past you and the gator to nudge the toe of his rubber boot underneath Eclipse's elbow, giving it a half-hearted kick.
“A-are they-?” you begin, craning your neck to see over Andy's shoulder.
“Offline,” he responds brusquely as he rakes a hand down his face, tugging at the wrinkles that lay under his eyes, “But looks like they fried their CPU.”
“WHAT!?” you blurt.
You might have gone on to spiral into a frantic mess of sentences, but at that moment, you're swiftly yet carefully spun around by a pair of large, tentative servos until you find yourself gaping listlessly up into the maw of Montgomery Gator.
Wasting no time, the enormous bot presses himself as far into your personal space as he can physically get without bowling you over and darts his gaze up and down your body, his optics working on overtime to scan you from head to toe.
“You okay?!” he rushes out urgently.
“What?” Mind whirling, you shoot a glance down at the lifeless attendant on the floor before returning your wide-eyed stare to Monty. “Wh-... I – yes? Yeah, I'm fine.”
A rapid shake of his head indicates his disagreement. “But they hurt you!”
“They didn't do it on purpose. It was an acciden-” you start to say, only to find yourself cut off.
“Stop sayin' stuff was an accident!” the gator blurts, his stare locking onto the spot on your arm where Eclipse had left his mark. Lips of silicone peel back to expose the full length of his teeth. “Sure didn't look like an accident to me...”
“Need I remind you that this-” you jerk your chin down towards the cast encumbering your injured leg. “-was an accident as well.”
“That's-!” The gator's voice-box sputters with fuzz for a moment as he tries to push his processor towards the words he's looking for, eventually settling on, “That's totally different!”
“Is it?” Stuffing your teeth into your lip, you fall quiet for a moment, gathering your brows into a hard line and drawing in a deep, slow inhale through your nostrils, partially to soothe your agitation, and partially because your ankle gives a sudden, searing throb, as if it had at last grown tired of you ignoring its frailty. “If I thought for one minute that they'd ever do something to hurt me, I might agree with you,” you concede, casting a troubled glance down at the eerily still attendant, your knuckles white on the crutch handles, “But this... I don't know... It's like they didn't even realise they were doing it... Something isn't right.”
“I'm sure it's nothing our fine mechanics can't fix,” Freddy pipes up.
“Agreed,” Andy jumps in, “Whatever happened, we'll deal with it down in Parts. New tech guy's comin' in to go over the security systems anyway.”
“Okay...” You nod your head, flexing your fingers around the crutches and sifting through your racing thoughts to try and formulate a plan of action, one that'll get Sun and Moon the help they clearly need. You're only glad that this has happened to you, and not one of the kids. “Okay. Okay, right. I'll help you get them down to Parts and Services.”
You should have known you wouldn't get away with that.
Sharp as a whip-crack, Andy cuts you off, shooting you a steely glare. “Not on your life, you ain't. You're going straight out to the car park, I'm gonna call you a cab. And you're gonna go home.”
You open your mouth to offer a feeble argument only to fall silent when Monty's hand finds your forearm and he leans down to place his mouth near your ear, grunting, “Maybe it's for the best, y'know? Can't do much for 'em if you're on the verge of collapse yourself.”
“I'm not on the verge of-... ugh.” You puff out your cheeks, teetering sideways before you manage to catch yourself on a crutch and shove yourself upright again. Scowling down at your cast, you mutter, “Not exactly making a good case for myself, am I?”
Rumbling a note of acknowledgement, Monty gives the back of your shoulder a guiding nudge with his snout. “C'mon. I'll help you get to the entrance.”
“God dammit, NO! NO! Monty, you're gonna carry the attendant down to Parts,” Andy exclaims, jabbing a finger at the gator and puffing like a runaway train as he throws an arm out at the animatronic bear hovering to your left, “Freddy'll take her to the entrance.”
Dutifully, the bear straightens up on his struts and returns his hat to its rightful place between his ears. “It would be my pleasure,” he says cordially, reaching out a paw for you to take and lifting his muzzle to flash you a charming smile. “May I?”
Letting out a disgruntled sigh, you take a single step towards the cordial bear, only for a clawed fist to clap shut around the collar of your shirt and keep you in place.
A growl reverberates through the air behind you and you're rudely tugged back a fumbling step, allowing Monty to slink around in front of you, releasing your shirt as he petulantly snaps, “Nuh uh, you may not!”
“Montgomery,” Freddy scolds, flicking his ears back on their hinges.
Snapping his optics over to Andy, the gator blunders on as if his co-star had never spoken. “Why him? Huh? How come I can't take 'er?”
Holding you breath, you cast a nervous glance around Monty's bridling shoulder to peer at the mechanic, who looks to be about three seconds away from pulling out his electric prod and reenacting the harrowing scene from last night all over again.
Peeling his lips apart, you catch a glint of his gritted teeth as he slowly drawls out, “Because I trust Freddy a damn sight more than I trust you to get her there in one piece.”
At that, you feel your eyebrows twitch inwards of their own accord.
It's only small, but a flicker of indignation spurs you to stick out your chin and fix Andy with a stern look, missing the way Monty's immense frame seems to grow inexplicably smaller at your side as he wilts.
“Andy, come on,” you say, “That's not fair...”
One of the old man's eyelids gives a volatile twitch, a clear indication that his patience isn't just wearing thin, it's damn-near threadbare. Yet still, you stand your ground, etching a frown onto your face that grows deeper and deeper as the silence stretches on.
Andy's lips thin, and despite his agitated temper, he spares the gator a more thorough once-over.
The mechanic has been around for a while, long enough that he was there when the switch was flipped and Montgomery Gator's processor first whirred to life. Ever since, Andy has amassed countless reports of Monty proving himself to be a nuisance, a hinderance and a downright danger to the company, the staff, the guests... To you.
The damnable bot broke your ankle, for Christ's sake...
And yet... God... And yet you've gone and done it. You've gone and buried a tiny seed of guilt right in the centre of Andy's chest. It isn't much, but it's enough...
He can't deny that you and that poor kid may very well have died yesterday if not for Monty coming to your defence.
Andy might not have believed it if he hadn't seen the feedback with his own two eyes.
The gator had protected you.
Glancing down, he doesn't fail to note the tail curled up around the back of your legs, nor the hulking animatronic casting you in his shadow - ironic, considering the bot has been doing nothing but shadow you for the past few days. People are noticing the changes...
Andy Flowers knows what loyalty looks like... He just... never thought he'd see it in a bot like Monty.
“Hhh... M'gettin' too old for this job,” he sighs, lifting a thumb and forefinger to massage gingerly at his forehead.
It's a tough pill to swallow, admitting that you have a point - that Andy isn't, in fact, being fair. He may remember, in gruesome detail, the bite, the blood, Mick's harrowing screams, but - and call him biased - he can't ignore that he trusts your judgment. Nor can he disregard the tiny kernel of gratitude he'd felt when he watched, through Monty's optics, how the bot guarded you from that 'intruder' with startling ferocity. The fact that you're the one willing to vouch for the bot means something to Andy.
So. Is it fair of him to suspect that Monty wouldn't get you to the front entrance without incident?
Andy's eyes squint sharply and he peers at you for a long moment, feeling the weight of three stares boring back into him, apprehensively awaiting his next words.
After a little while longer spent in silence, you nod your head and gently prompt, “It's okay, Andy. Monty can get me there safely. I trust him.”
You and Freddy are so busy watching the mechanic, neither of you notice Montgomery twisting his head to regard you with wide, glimmering optics, plastic brows pinched together and tilted towards the ceiling. And then the man's gaze is drawn to movement behind the gator, movement that he at first attributes to the daycare attendant stirring back to life. So it comes as a surprise when all he sees is the gator's segmented tail swinging back and forth silently at the back of your legs.
'Huh,' he muses to himself, 'That's a new one.'
Aloud, he has to summon every ounce of his willpower to do what he's about to do...
Concede.
“Goddammit, fine,” he spits, slumping his shoulders in defeat and breaking the spell of tension he'd cast over the daycare.
At once, Monty perks up and you start to smile, opening your mouth to give a word of thanks, but before you can, the mechanic jerks his chin at Freddy and adds, “Fred, go with 'em. Make sure there aren't any more detours.”
Almost as quickly as it had lit up, your face promptly falls slack. “Seriously?”
“We don't need an escort,” Monty chips in, throwing a haughty side-eye at Freddy, who only appears all-too happy to fulfil the request.
“Freddy goes with you, and that's final,” Andy retorts, squinting at you sharply, “You're in enough trouble as it is.”
It... shouldn't bother him as much as it does how quickly you back down from him, lowering your eyes and huffing out a quiet, “Fine. Fine.”
As you start to shuffle past him, you can't help but turn back to peer down at the lifeless animatronic on the floor behind you.
“What about them?” you ask quietly, pausing beside the mechanic, “Who'll help you take them to Parts if Freddy comes with us?”
“I know a gal,” is all he grunts in return as he raises his wrist and taps on his Fazwatch. The screen lights up, and a chipper voice buzzes through the speakers.
“Andy!”
“Chica,” the mechanic replies in a far less enthusiastic tone, stepping past you to stand over Eclipse's body, “Need a favour. You up for a little heavy lifting?”
Curious as you are to hear her response, it's only worry for your attendant friends that keeps your feet stuck fast to the play mats, and it isn't until Freddy's paw lands on your back that you allow yourself to be gently ushered towards the daycare entrance, tossing a last, lingering glance over your shoulder as you go.
Andy looms over Eclipse, still muttering to his wrist whilst his free hand wraps around the back of his neck, rubbing at the short, grey hairs that grow there, his whole body slouching forwards as if it can no longer bear to keep itself standing upright.
You think you can understand how he feels...
Freddy's guiding paw only manages to stay on your back for all of a few seconds before Monty slips his nose between you and the bear, giving the latter a shove with his powerful jaws.
Thrown, Freddy stumbles sideways at once, emitting a sound of surprise as his footfalls clatter clumsily on the linoleum for a moment, a moment that gives Monty ample time to move his hefty bulk between you and his co-star.
You remain deaf to Freddy's grunt of disapproval as he's forced aside, shooting the gator a reprimanding huff before reaching up to right his hat from where it had been knocked askew.
In the meantime, you continue to limp forwards whilst your head remains twisted over one shoulder, your gaze locked onto the gangling shape that lays on the floor of the daycare, round face-plates half obscured by Andy's legs.
Dark, blank optics bore into you as you're ushered beyond the wooden entrance and out through the red, swinging doors that close in your wake with a firm 'bang,' cutting off your view of that ominous, sightless stare.
Frowning softly, you turn your head forwards again and give a noiseless sigh, emptying your lungs and readying yourself for the walk to the front doors of the Plex. It's to your own shame that you look forward to collapsing on your bed and resting, while the attendants are carted down to Parts and Services where a perfect stranger will poke and prod at their CPU.
You can only hope they'll be okay when they wake up...
And so, in silence, all three of you – human, gator, and bear – begin to amble along the corridor adjoined to the daycare, not a sound passed between you except for the heavy 'clunks' of the animatronic's footfalls.
You keep your eyes on the ground ahead of you, wincing now with every other step, but keeping your expression rigid, sensing the vigilant optics of two bots assessing you from above.
You've almost reached the end of the corridor by the time Freddy breaks the silence.
“How are you feeling, Miss Y/n?” he voices softly, leaning forwards to try and catch your eye.
Exhaling a long, arduous breath through your nose, you raise your head and consider your response.
Somehow, you have enough sense to know that saying 'I'm about three seconds away from pulling my hair out and having a little cry right here in this corridor' to a worry-wart like Freddy wouldn't be the wisest choice of words.
The poor bear is already peering down at you as though he expects you to fall over at a moment's notice. So, in lieu of the truth, you plaster on a reassuring smile and aim it up at the star, telling him, “I'm all right, Freddy...” And then, because you're aware of the skeptical twitch of his plastic brows, you add a safe truth. “I'm just... really, really tired...”
You don't notice Monty's head lower to squint at you discerningly.
“Ah, that is quite understandable,” Freddy nods sagely as he presses ahead and holds open the lobby doors ahead of you, leaving Monty to linger behind and watch you through them with a careful optic, “You've had a very exciting day.”
“Excitin' ain't the word I'd use,” the gator huffs, sliding through and reclaiming his spot at your side before Freddy can bustle in to take it.
Apparently oblivious to his co-star's comment, Freddy simply settles into a steady lope on the opposite side of Monty and peers around him to continue addressing you. “I noticed you were looking a little peaky during the performance...”
Now you know he's being polite. You can't imagine that spending a sleepless night in the hospital without any opportunity to clean yourself up has left you looking your best. In response to the bear, you merely give a non-committal hum.
Once again, you all fall silent, although judging from the frequent glances that Freddy shoots down to you, you think it's safe to presume he has something else on his processor that's just bursting to get out.
Sure enough, after taking a few steps towards the lift...
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Did I... What?” you blink, turning to raise a quizzical brow at the bear.
“The performance,” he reiterates, tapping his fingertips together hopefully, “What did you think?”
Well, you muse, aside from the impromptu shoutout...
“You guys were fantastic,” you tell him with a genuine smile that only grows wider when Freddy's ears wiggle in delight, jangling his little, red earring.
Turning to Monty, you add, “You though, Mont, you stole the show!”
Clenching his fists, the gator has to focus hard on the creaking plastic to keep the pneumatic actuators beneath his casing from pulling his lips into a proud smile. There's a pressing question that's been nagging at the front of his processor, one that's been burning a hole through his chip ever since he looked up at the concert and found you missing, and he'll be damned if he's going to let a little compliment from his... from you distract him.
“Liked it, did'ja?” he mumbles.
You're still aiming a tired grin up at the side of his snout when you reply, “Of course I did...”
“Then why'd you leave..?”
Ah... There goes your smile... He almost pierces his plastic palms with his claws in some kind of self-imposed admonishment for erasing it.
But... he has to know.
Swallowing, you turn to face forwards again, dimly registering that Monty is has begun to turn himself towards you little by little, subtly herding you in the direction of the lift behind the photo booth.
Your crutches click noisily on the tiled floor. The answer to his question is precisely what you'd been hoping to avoid. And now you're stuck between a rock and a hard place. Do you tell him the truth and cause he and Freddy to worry, or do you tell a white lie and potentially insult them with a lacklustre reason for ditching the show early?
… God, your eyelids ache with the effort of holding them open.
Defeatedly, your shoulders droop and you ask, “You want an honest answer, or an answer that won't upset you?”
“Well... Honesty is my favourite policy – Oh. Watch your step,” Freddy chimes in as he moves ahead of you onto the lift before turning to face you, taking your wrist in his enormous paw and keeping you steady as you step on after him.
“Thanks, Fred,” you murmur gently.
Though he makes a show of rolling his optics at the bear, Monty concurs. “We're big bots, lady. Reckon we can handle it.”
The lift shudders when the gator steps on after you, dipping slightly with a groan of metal. You pause long enough for the sound to stop before you reach out and jab a thumb on the button for the bottom floor, blowing a noisy sigh through pursed lips.
“Doctors gave me some pain meds after the operation,” you finally confess, “But only enough for today. I was meant to go straight to a pharmacy after I left the hospital to get some over-the-counter anti-inflammatories. But...” Your voice trails off as the lift slows to a smooth halt, dinging once before the doors slide open to let you leave.
“But you didn't,” Monty points out, his voice nearly a growl.
Watchful of your every move, the bots linger behind whilst you swing the crutches forwards and haul yourself from the lift. You don't bother to wait for them, fully aware that they could catch up and overtake you in just a few strides.
Dipping your head towards your shoulder in a sideways shrug, you glance around the lobby, relieved to find that most of the foot-traffic is concentrated inside the gift shops. There are very few guests milling about around the open space, just a few tired parents chatting with one another near the turnstiles and a group of teenagers perched on the edge of the enormous, bronze statue that has pride of place at the centre of the lobby.
Only a few glance in your direction as you hobble past, sparing Freddy and Monty vaguely curious glances, but nobody seems altogether inclined to get up and greet the stars of the Pizzaplex. It's likely they've been here more times than one can count, and the novelty of walking, talking animatronics has worn off.
Perhaps you're just more impressed because you've seen these bots behind closed-doors, but you find that it's a sad world where impressive feats of technology like the Glamrocks are regarded as mundane, as if they're little more than a passing fad.
As you suspected, it isn't long before titanic footfalls tromp heavily up to your side once more, neither bot willing to let you stray too far ahead, apparently. You appreciate the vigilance, though you still find it a little overdramatic.
“Started feeling the meds wear off during your performance,” you continue softly once Monty's big, green nose appears in the corner of your vision, “And I got worried that if I didn't get to the daycare soon, I wouldn't be able to hide my pain from the attendants, so...”
“... So you left before the pain got too much to bear,” Freddy finishes for you, his ears tipping back in sympathy.
The gator, however, picks up on something else entirely. “Does it hurt real bad'?” Bristling, he takes a glance down and begins to scan your leg for the umpteenth time.
You reply with an exasperated shake of your head, though the motion is still fond. “It's my own fault, Mont,” you tell him, taking the lead and bringing them through the open turnstile that allows guests to leave, manned by a single, motionless S.T.A.F.F bot.
The gator stomps through behind you, grumbling something under his 'breath' that you miss beneath the S.T.A.F.F bot's generic, blaring address.
“Thank you for visiting Fazbear's Pizzaplex. Please, have a Faz-erific day.”
“Likewise,” you respond automatically before turning over your shoulder to address Monty again, “And it's not so bad-” Liar. “- If it was really hurting, I might've asked one of you to carry me.”
Freddy is the last to leave through the turnstile, tipping his hat politely to the smaller bot before he hurries up to your side again.
“Flowers was right,” Monty rumbles, lowering his optics to the cast on your leg, “You should'a gone straight home....”
With the main entrance mere steps away, you let out a sigh and draw to an unsteady halt in front of it. Beside you, the heavy animatronics do the same, their footsteps stopping in near-perfect synch. Hesitant, Monty turns his head towards you, his optics clicking open in surprise when he sees your hand rising steadily towards his face. He doesn't move a piston, holding his metaphorical breath as you lay a gentle palm on top of his snout and give it a slow, soothing stroke, right from his glasses to the tip of his nostrils. He has no throat to gulp, but his gears whir as he swivels his gaze from your hand to your eyes, vaguely registering the warm hum emitting from Freddy's chest.
“I'm glad I came here first,” you tell him, resolute, “For my own peace of mind, if nothing else. I wanted to see for myself that you were okay. That endo nearly ripped you to pieces.”
It takes the gator's sensors a moment to recognise your touch.
And when everything clicks into place, it takes all of his processing power to refrain from sagging like a big, green balloon with the air let out. This is the second time today you've willingly put your fragile, little hand close to his crushing jaws...
Worry. You'd described worry. You wanted to see that he was okay? He almost finds the notion inconceivable.
After all, he's Montgomery Gator. He... He doesn't worry about anyone, and nobody worries about him. That's the way it's always been...
He wants to smack Freddy with his tail when the bear announces pleasantly, “You were worried about him.”
As you turn to face the star, your hand still resting lightly on Monty's snout, the gator settles for whipping his optics up to glare at Freddy from behind your head -
- But he's stopped when you say, plain and simple, “Of course I was.”
Of course you were...
Of course.
“Well” you announce suddenly, drawing your hand from Monty's snout and returning it to the handle of your crutch, “I suppose I'd better get going before any else turns up to tell me I've made some bad decisions.”
The warmth from your hand disappears too fast, too soon, and Monty has to catch himself before he leans down to try and keep your palm attached to his nose.
Freddy's head dips in concurrence, regarding you with a soft fondness that sets the gator's fingers twitching. But at last, the bear drags his optics away from you and turns them instead to the open entrance and the carpark beyond. All at once, the easy-going lift of his jaw falls, his brows sliding together into the centre of his forehead as a troubled hum spews from his voice-box.
Following the line of his gaze, Monty soon discovers why.
The afternoon is slowly bleeding into the first touches of a cold, dark evening, and the sky overhead has grown heavy with grey clouds. Snow falls lightly from above, not enough to be of any concern to the traffic on the well-gritted roads, but enough that they can several humans meandering back to their cars, rubbing their gloved hands together and wrapping brightly-coloured scarves around their children's necks as they exit their vehicles.
“Looks like we're in for another cold one,” you remark, drawing Monty's attention down to you.
Shifting on his actuators, the gator casts a fleeting look between you and the world beyond the Plex's main entrance.
This is it, he supposes. You'll be going home now... To a place that's entirely foreign to him, filled with unknowns and unpredictability.... A place where anything could potentially happen to you, and he'd have no idea until word eventually reached him from the staff gossip chain...
Why has it only just occurred to him that the outside world might be a dangerous place? He's never considered that possibility before, not once.
“You comin' in tomorrow?” he finds himself asking before he can mute his voice-box.
Puffing out your cheeks, you blow a noisy breath through your lips before giving a wince and replying, “Not sure I can, big guy. The doctor said that fractured ankles take about eight weeks to heal.”
Eight weeks?
Now, Montgomery would never claim to be a scholarly type of bot, especially in the realm of mathematics, but he does have the advantage of having a computer for a brain.
Eight weeks? That calculates to fifty six days. Roughly thirteen hundred and forty four hours...
Damn. That's... a long time for you to be absent. Why, anything could happen in eight weeks...
“You, uh...” the gator starts fumblingly, half distracted by Freddy's stare that refuses to shift away from the side of his face. Still, he manages to cough out the rest of his question in an awkward mumble. “You gonna be okay? You got someone lookin' out for ya at home, right?”
“Well, my fish haven't let me down yet,” you laugh, though the sound quickly peters out into a hum once you catch both Monty and Freddy peering down at you, neither quite as amused as you seem to be with your own little joke.
Sharing a look between themselves, Freddy is the first to return his attention to you and tentatively ask, “You live alone?”
Balking, you offer the bear a hesitant chuckle and reply, “Bit of a personal thing to ask someone, isn't it?”
Plastic brows click down into a long, stern line, like a father on the cusp of gently scolding his brood.
“Y/n...” he starts.
“No need to make it sound so dramatic,” you interject lightly, “Lots of people live on their own.”
“Hmm... I don't mean to pry,” he says, raising a large, careful paw and laying it down on your shoulder, a warm gesture that puts a brief ache of longing deep inside your chest, “I only ask because I'd like to know that there's someone there who can take care of you.”
Slowly, your eye swivels sideways to peer at the inhuman appendage engulfing your shoulder. Something in your ribcage shifts, like a blockage coming unstuck and letting clear, healthy waters run freely for the first time in a while.
You have to squeeze your eyes into a hard blink before they can grow too misty.
Sniffing up at the towering animatronic, you raise your own hand and lay it over the top of his, giving the smooth, sturdy plastic a pat. “You're a good sort, Freddy, I hope you know that.”
The bear's ears twitch forwards and his upper jaw lifts slowly, sending your smile right back at you.
“But,” you add pointedly, “You don't need to worry. I'm sure Andy will stop by every now and again to make sure I'm still in one piece.”
“I certainly hope so,” he utters warmly, right before he throws another blow at your quivering heart, “You're part of the Fazbear family. We take care of our own.”
Unseen by either of you, Montgomery stands a few feet away, observing the interaction with a growing sense of disquiet. Deep in his innermost circuitry, he can already feel that familiar, old monster raise its ugly head, it's hue a sickly green that's awfully reminiscent of his own paint-job. It growls inside his stomach hatch, bulging outwards threateningly as Freddy's paw remains on you.
But at least this time, the monster isn't given too long to fester.
In another second, Freddy slides his hand from your shoulder and steps back, returning his optics to the car park outside. Gradually, with a subtle creak of metal, Monty's jaws unclench and he twists his head around to follow the bear's line of sight, listening to the rumble of a distant engine creep closer.
Through the wintery gloom, a sleek, black car turns off the main road and passes beneath the neon sign that welcomes visitors to the Plex. Monty squints at it, his eye drawn to the illuminated, white box sitting on top of the roof that simply reads, 'Taxi.'
“Reckon that's your ride,” he mumbles.
Humming through closed lips, you bob your head in a nod. “Looks like.”
Admittedly, it's a relief to see the car pull in. Your legs are beginning to quake under the effort of keeping yourself upright for far longer than you really ought to have.
Movement at your side draws you back to the animatronic bear, whose friendly, blue optics are shuttered half-closed, his broad shoulders slumping dolefully as he bends himself down and opens his arms, paws upturned in invitation.
The gesture is so plain and comprehensible, entirely human in its execution.
He's asking you for a hug.
And, well... Who are you to deny the face of Fazbear Inc. a farewell hug?
Freddy regards you with a hopeful waggle of his ears when you smile, hobbling across the meagre distance between you, well within the circle of his arms. Uttering a pleasant hum, he loops his hands behind your back and gently scoops you into his chest. Just like that, you're surrounded by the bear's convivial warmth that does wonders to chase away the biting wind slipping under the Plex's entrance to chill your cheeks and fingertips.
Sinking into Freddy's chest, you let out a contented hum, pinching your eyes shut as he does the same, his baritone voice thrumming through the ear you've pressed to his casing.
“Take care of yourself, won't you?” he rumbles, his chin alighting delicately on top of your head, “The better you do, the sooner we get to see you again!”
It never ceases to amaze you how an animatronic can inject so much humanity into even their most mundane of actions and words. Freddy's expressions of genuine kindness are as authentic as any human's. Of course they are. The AI that was implemented into him was designed to learn from the very species that created it. How can anyone say his compassion is only artificial? Kindness doesn't care whether the one wielding it is human or robot.
Breathing a deep, sigh, you sink deeper into Freddy's embrace, selfishly indulging in a comfort you've been desperately seeking since the trauma of last night's attack.
Of course, with a certain animatronic alligator in the vicinity, this peaceable moment was never destined to last very long.
“A'right, a'right,” Monty complains loudly, his claws sinking into the hem of your shirt to ease you backwards out of Freddy's grasp, “That's enough. You're gonna squeeze the air outta 'er if you keep that up.”
Rightfully aghast, the bear reels his head back as if Monty had struck him, exclaiming, “I would never!” Yet even still, his arms slowly peel open from around you, allowing the gator to pull you free and nudge you towards the open entrance.
“Not to worry, Freddy, you were very gentle,” you tell him kindly before throwing Monty an expectant look, eyebrows raised and arms held in much the same way as Freddy just had, “What about you, Mont? Can I interest you in one of these?”
A very small, hidden part of the gator that he doesn't want to examine too closely is immensely pleased that you'd been the one to offer. He isn't sure his pride would be able to stomach it if Freddy were to witness him admitting that he wants a hug before you leave. Despite popular belief, Monty is a hugger... He just... doesn't get as much opportunity to do so as the other animatronics.
Still, he exactly show his hand so publicly, especially with Fazbear breathing down his neck. Folding his arms across his chest, Monty gives a dismissive snort and shrugs his massive shoulders, mumbling, “Sure, fine. If you wanna, I guess.”
He doesn't know if his faux-reluctance fools you or not, but in the next few moments, he finds he doesn't much care, not when you hobble close to him on the crutches and topple forwards into a hug that forces him to the throw his arms out to catch you with a soft 'oof.'
Startled, the gator stares down at the top of your head as you sink against his inflexible frame, moulding yourself to him as if he was designed to perfectly accommodate you, and you alone.
Now, Monty has hugged children before, those that have been brave enough to ask the massive gator with sharp fangs and even sharper claws. But this, he realises, might just be the first time he's ever hugged an adult. It feels... different.
Your hands aren't sticky, for one.
Worn, calloused palms wrap around his midsection, as far as your arms can reach, and the gator's core nearly overloads when you turn your face to the side and press your cheek against his chest.
Dimly, he registers that he has yet to actually lay his hands on you.
The gator's optics swivel between each of his raised appendages, fingers splayed out as they hover over your shoulders without direction. He notices his claws. They look... sharper than they had before. They look dangerous, especially now that he's seeing them against a backdrop of soft, fragile skin.
He would never hurt you...
But that's what he thought last night, and still, he'd been the one to fall upon your leg.
It's only when you start to pull away that he suddenly realises that this moment – this wonderful, overwhelming moment – is about to end. Desperation to keep you to himself for just a few more seconds gives the gator enough courage to curl his claws into his fists and press his knuckles into your back, his head tipped low to nudge his chin into the back of your neck.
The only sound you emit is a subtle huff of amusement before you return to your original position, giving him a firmer squeeze.
“Thanks, Monty. I needed this...” you mumble against him, giving him the out.
Working his jaw silently a few times, he eventually manages to reply, “Don't, uh... don't mention it.”
And then, just like that, it's over.
You pull back, and he lets you this time, his knuckles sliding carefully across the back of your shirt until you lean back far enough that he loses his grip, and his arms flop back to his sides with a creak of metal.
“Right!” you announce, blinking rapidly and shaking a weary smile onto your face, “And on that note, I'll see you guys soon.”
You start to turn towards the exit, raising a hand off one crutch to return the little wave that Freddy gives you, but before you can limp another step, the gator once again gives you pause.
“Hey... Before you go.. I, uh...”
You stop mid step, easing yourself about to face him again and sending him another expectant look.
For some time, he hesitates, yet when your eyes start to flick between he and the taxi outside, he balls his hands into fists and eventually mumbles out like a petulant teen, “I wanted to... to thank you, or whatever.”
“Thank me?” you echo, knitting your brows together, “For what?”
'For what...' He almost huffs in dark amusement. How can he sum it up in a few words, all the things he has to thank you for?
Monty's large hands fiddle idly with one of his spiked wrist-bands for a moment as he tries and fails to look you directly in the eye, hiding behind his glasses. “I spoke to Flowers...” the gator eventually sighs, “He said he wouldn't'a checked my visual feed if you hadn't told 'im it wasn't me that attacked you.”
“What else was I going to do?” you huff, giving him an amused smile, “Let you take the fall for something you didn't do?”
For several, quiet moments, he doesn't respond, merely drops his gaze to the floor between you and gives his shoulder struts a halfhearted shrug. It occurs to you, suddenly, that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have been surprised if you'd done exactly that.
“Oh. Monty-” you start, reaching out a hand.
“Ah, s'nothin',” he says gruffly, though he doesn't stop you when you touch your fingertips to the side of his dangling arm, taking care to avoid the spikes on his wrist band, “Just... Just... Thanks. Y'know? For havin' my back.”
The worry on your face stays for a few more moments, just long enough that he catches it when his optics find your eyes again, but soon, you allow your expression to soften, pressing your fingers a little more firmly against his casing. “Thanks for having mine first,” you shrug, lips quirked, “I mean, what are friends for, right?”
Quick as a flash, one of the gator's brows slides up his forehead. “Friends?” he parrots.
“Oh,” you fumble, casting your mind out like a net searching for the right word, “I mean... what, colleagues?”
Leaning back on his leg struts, Monty regards you coolly for several seconds, peering at you over the rim of his glasses before he snorts softly, one side of his mouth tugging up into a smirk. “Nah...Friends is fine. 'Sides, reckon you've earned an upgrade.” He drops an optic in a lazy wink.
Taken aback, you consider the bot in front of you, recalling the ferocious sight of the colossal animatronic who bore down on you in his green room not so many nights ago. Montgomery Gator, Monster of the Pizzaplex, has just claimed you for a friend.
Perhaps a few days ago, you might've been perturbed by such a revelation, but now, despite the agony working its way up your leg, despite the heavy cast and the stinging ache behind your eyes, and your worry for the daycare attendants, Monty's little acknowledgement sits like a bubble of light in your chest.
Gratitude swelling, you cock your hip and fondly reply, “Lucky me.”
The tender moment is ruined in an instant when, from outside, a loud, blaring horn blasts across the car park, causing you and the two animatronics to whip your heads in the direction of the taxi, whose driver has his arm sticking out the window, beckoning to you impatiently.
“Whoops,” you laugh, “That's our time. Andy must have told him to be on the lookout for a girl on crutches.”
With that, you're once again shuffling through the building's wide exit, only this time, Monty doesn't attempt to stop you, perhaps realising that he's gleaned all the extra time from you that he can.
“Oh, before I forget!” Twisting back to face the bots who're still standing vigil by the entrance, you call out, “Monty, can you let the DJ know what happened? And Triple M too! I don't want them thinking I've forgotten about them again.
Standing to attention, the gator knocks off a quick salute and shouts back, “Consider it done, lady!"
You throw him a wave in response before you turn back to the taxi and continue making your way over the frost-covered tarmac, away from the Pizzaplex, and away from the gator who stares after you with tilted brows and a mellow longing worming its way through his wires.
Together, he and Freddy watch you throw your crutches into the back of the car, then clamber in after them, and all the while, Monty finds himself stewing over how the driver hadn't stepped out to assist.
Grumbling to himself, he crosses his arms over his chest, tail lashing in agitation behind him.
"I don't like to think of her dealing with this by herself," Freddy murmurs at his side, ears tilted back at an angle conveying his worry, "I do hope she'll be all right..."
For once, Monty finds that he actually agrees with the bear.
"Yeah..." he utters, his optics tracking the glowing, red tail-lights of the taxi as it swings around the car park and turns right onto the main road, "Me too..."
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dreams-of-me · 1 year ago
Text
Why Don't You Love Me?
Eren x Reader
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: domestic abuse!, toxic! Eren, semi-public sex, verbal abuse!, cervix kissing, deep penetration, vaginal penetration, creampie, overstimulation, AFAB Reader, BIPOC reader.
This is a prompt for my dear friend. She is a Yeagerist just like me and she deserves a fanfic that will make her coochie throb! This is based off the relationship between Nate and Maddie from Euphoria and I will not be taking and questions at this time.
"You're such an asshole leave me the fuck alone."
"Oh I'm the asshole because you want to show your ass to other men while you belong to me?"
" I don't belong to anyone but my fucking self, and if I were to belong to someone it wouldn't be you Eren. "
Eren's rage had reached his limit and grabbed you by your throat. He slammed you against the nearest wall and brought his lips close to your ears as he spoke slowly and calmly.
"Listen here bitch, you belong to me even if you don't want to. Even if we break up, you belong to me. You're mine got it."
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You couldnt breathe Eren was at least a foot and a half taller than you and her was holding you up by your neck. You looked at him calmly as he spoke because even though the position you were in was painful and terrifying, you could not help yourself when the thought of him fucking you right up against the same wall. You were undeniably aroused by that little vein that popped out of Eren's neck as he spoke.
He let you down and you gasped for air as he walked away. You knew he could've killed you if he wanted but everything before this moment is really what kept you with him. Everything before this moment is what allowed the relization that everything he just told you is true. Even if he were to kill you, you'd be his.
Eren was the type of guy that was absolutely smoking hot and he knew it. Because he knew it he walked around Shiganshina Secondary School like he owned it. He was the social king, the football captain, the hottest guy in school, and average level intelligence. Unfortunately, this made it super apparent that he need a queen very soon as he was in his Junior Year and people were starting to believe that he was Gay from hanging around his best friend Armin so much and Mikasa didn't help as she looked at every girl that got close to him with a death stare.
Eren was also very picky. He didn't want a girl that was too tall or too short. About medium height. Had to be practically hairless, they need a nice rack and a fat ass. More importantly the needed to be confident. He also had a thing for POC girls, how their darker skin seemed to glow in the honey sunlight of golden hour. How the gold jewelry always complimented their skin, and the Lucious lips that was always beautifully adorned with all types of gloss. God, don't even get him started on how they smelled. Which is what brought him to you. You walked past him on the way to your class and he smelled warm vanilla and linen with a fruity scent. He turned around and watched you ass sway away from him as you entered your class.
Later that day he looked for you in the cafeteria. He spotted you with a teammate, Jean it looked like you were reviewing some class work so he walked over to you both.
"No Jean, this needs to be done by tomorrow so that we both have time to prepare to the game this Friday."
"Okay fine ill get it done as soon as I can. Oh what's up Yeager-"
"You're gorgeous. Give me your number?"
"You're not too bad yourself. Its XXX-XXX-XX34." You say confidently. Your lips move with such slow ease that he is entrapped hearing nothing but what he might imagine your moans sound like under him.
"I'll see you at the game this weekend QB 1, but hopefully. I get to see you sometime before that. Text me."
"Yeager, you're hot shit and everything but we have practice let's go."
Eren picked his jaw up off the floor as he watched your hair swing behind you as you walked, turned your head quickly to find him staring then winked. He felt is heart jolt and blood rush straight to his dick. That's the moment where he knew you had to be his queen.
"OH FUCK YES"
"I know, take it all for me."
"EREN FUCK"
"Dirty mouth, its okay I like that. Are you ready for me."
"Please please plea- AH FUCK"
"Fuuuuck."
You would assume this was a porno. You're in a dark and empty classroom blinds closed as the band plays the start of the halftime performance for the night. A classic, Seven Nation Army. The scent of popcorn and hotdogs from the concession stand was in full blast. This was their first game of the season and in the first two quarters Shiganshina's football team had a 21 point lead to 7 from the opposing team.
You had been texting Eren nonstop about everything. Talking about sweet nothings. Getting showered with compliments as well as the occasional gift at the end of the school day. A new set of nails, some lingerie shopping, and of course perfume for your collection. He loved how you smiled when he bought you things, and you adored that he bought you things. The make shift relationship you found yourself was perfect. At the end of the week the night of the game you found yourself holding hands with him walking down the hallway. He kissed you deeply and he told you to text him as he grabbed your ass before walking away.
You liked that Eren was sweet and although affectionate, he wasn't feening for sex...but you were. You'd drool as he'd send you pictures of himself fresh out of the shower after practice. Or when he wore those tight black t-shirts with a gold chain that hugged his arms and pectoral muscles just right. The way his jaw clenched when he focused as he pulled his hair back into a bun made your pussy clench with ease. You were done playing nice.
"Aw princess, did you think I forgot about you?"
"Shut up, no one gives a fuck about you or your ego."
You admit that your personality also changed when you got with him, you were the center attention because you were together, you had the best clothes and style because of him. Girl and guys alike all looked at you like the queen he made you out to be, and if you were his queen, Ymir so help you that your wouldn't take what's yours when you wanted it.
"Watch it Y/N, you know I like when you talk dirty but talking shit is different."
"What you're gonna let little old me bruise your fucking god complex? If I can do it than any other little fucker in this school can and you're just as much of a failure as your older brother and crazy ass father."
You also admit that you took that comment too far in trying to rile him up and unfortunately you paid the fucking price. Family is a sensitive topic for Eren and there is only so much teasing he can take before he snaps. And that's exactly what he did, at the drop of a hat he turned you around and grabbed you by the neck slamming you against the wall of the athletics building where you were both walking to practice.
"Listen up bitch, I don't care what you have to say about me but my family is off fucking limits, not that you would ever know or care about yours seeing as you're so fucking detached from them. "
You looked at him fighting to breathe eyes low and slightly seductive but tearing up as you were being held up by your neck to his height. You grasped at his hand for some leverage but his grip on your neck provided no such thing.
"You're fucking job is to walk around on my arm, look like the hottest bitch in heat that I picked up and suck my cock when I ask you to, questioning me, my athourity, or my family is not part of it and I never wanna hear shit from uppity slut like you… Got it”
He released his hold and you came crashing down.
Fighting to inhale oxygen into your lungs and coughing when the burn of the oxygen passes finally.
He stood there looking down at you unamused.
With a tear in your eye, you look up at him neck already beginning to bruise with a yellowish hue.
“Why don’t you love me?” you said being the most genuine you’ve every been in months.
He scoffed, picked you up and kissed you. Not like usual, not an apology for his abuse but proof that he does care for you in his own twisted way. And that was enough you felt. Enough for you.
He’s always loved doggy style, loved watching your plump ass clap back at him and wave in all it’s glory. So you weren’t surprised when he pushed you away from the kiss and turned you around. Bending you against the wall and hiking your cheer skirt up, pulling the shorts and panties down.
Next thing you knew you felt his dick pressed up against your rubbing against your ass “dumb questions get dumb answers”.
He rammed himself into you, filling you all the way up and sucking his teeth at your tightness. You couldn’t control your moans, he just fucked you so deeply and with so much intent that it was hard not to voice your every sensation.
“Ahh- Erennn”
“mhm say my name.”
“fuck eren, just like that”
You were getting whiplash because right when you said that he pulled out and turned you around again. Lifting you up so that your ankles locked around his hips. Nestling your drippy pussy on his tip.
He gripped both your ass cheeks and pressed you down, fully in-bedding himself in you.
“Fuckkkkkk, ahh it’s so deep”
“just how i like it.”
He continued his pace from earlier as you threw your head back in complete euphoria. He kept it going as if you weighed even less than a feather.
“You’re such a needy bitch, why didn’t you tell me you needed some dick earlier. All of this could’ve been avoided”
It fell on deaf ears obviously because the pain from your neck and the pleasure from your pussy we’re mixing soooo well.
“Ah- More, please more”
He did exactly that pushing himself deeper into you with every thrust, your wetness dripping on the pants of his uniform. He used that wetness to slip a finger in your ass and if you were full before you’re way over the limit now.
“Ngahhhh too muchhhh “
“what, you just asked for more. Take what i give you”
3 more thrusts in and you were cumming all over him, you held onto him for dear life clawing at his back knowing he’d pay for your new mani when you complain about it next week. You didn’t expect him to keep thrusting into you after you came.
“AHHH NOOO”
“Shut the fuck up”
He thrusted deeper, harder, but so much slower because he knew now that you were done he was next. He relished every second of your cries, how you were still fluttering around him but tightening as he pushed into you deeper.
You started shaking as your second orgasm finally took over and he came right along with you, groaning into you ear.
“Shiiiiiiitttttt, ahhh”
You were non-verbal, eyes rolled back as a stream of clear liquid made itself present between the both of you.
He kissed you again. Hotter, more passionate. Gripping the nape of your neck to push both of you deeper into it.
You wrapped your hands in his hair become slightly more conscious.
By the time you both were done practice had ended.
You both texted your coaches about not feeling well including a picture of your soaked uniform lying about “throwing up”.
You went the locker rooms, changed and walked to Eren’s car hand in hand.
You spent the night at his house, exhausted enough to not care about his 30 minute shower. But when he came back, god he smelled amazing. He wrapped you in the blanket before getting into bed himself.
You cuddled into his chest as he stared at the ceiling waiting for sleep to take him.
“what makes you think i don’t love you?”
you don’t respond, pretending to be asleep but with your head and heart wide awake. You know now, those word will never have to be said again
You fell asleep feeling happy, but nothing could prepare you for the week to come when the bruises took their final form…
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