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alastor-simp · 2 months

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Pocky Kiss - Hazbin Hotel Gang x Female Reader

[P.S. I know that many of the characters are together in relationships or planning to be (Huskerdust and Chaggie), so don't be upset if they do kiss the reader in the story. Enjoy]

Charlie🌈

🌈Charlie was so excited to try something new, especially when it involved sweets. She saw you coming back to the hotel, carrying a plastic bag. When she asked you what you got, you told her you had gotten some sweets.

🌈Going to explain how pocky was a very popular sweet in the human world, she was ecstatic, rainbows and sparkles popping up around her. There were so many flavors to choose from, but she loved the cheesecake flavored ones.

🌈Watching her munching away on them, stick hanging in her mouth, you remembered the little game that used to be played with these treats. Grabbing Charlie's attention, you asked if you wanted to play a game, to which she responded with an enthusiastic yes.

🌈Grabbing her by her shoulders, you positioned her so she was facing you. Explaining the rules of the pocky game to her, you watched her reactions, to make sure she was okay with playing it. Her cheeks did turn a slight pink, but she was still smiling and agreed to the game.

🌈Placing the pocky stick between both of your mouths, you started the game. The both of you moved slowly, nibbling the stick bit by bit. The more you stared at Charlie, the more entranced you got. She was both physically cute and beautiful at the same time. Her eyes were lovely and her rosy cheeks gave her a doll-like appearance, making you flush.

🌈Charlie noticed how your eyes were darting all around, before they looked away from her, gazing down. She also noticed the redness on your cheeks. Halfway done with the treat, you heard a soft chuckle and gazed back at Charlie. Her once adorable smile was now a smirk, her eyes had turned red with slits and red horns at appeared on the top of her head.

🌈Grabbing the collar of your shirt, she had pulled you closer, lips smashing together. "!!!!!!" you were left in a state of shock, not expecting this reaction at all. Her lips were very soft and you could smell the apple scented perfume that her dad got for her. Soon, the kiss had ended and she let you go, changing back to her normal appearance. "I WIN!" she said, jumping with excited, while you were panting with flushed cheeks and a racing heartbeat.

🌈Charlie noticed immediately and started apologizing saying "IM SO SORRY!! I-I don't know what came over me I ummmm" She was waving her hands, worried she had upset you. Smiling, you shook her head, saying you were fine, and not to worry. She calmed down at that, while giving you a bear hug, happy that you weren't upset. She had let you go after a while, and the both of you continued to sit next to each other, finishing the rest of the pocky sticks you had bought.

Vaggie🎀

🎀Vaggie wasn't big on sweets, compared to Charlie. She didn't hate them, but she preferred more of the mellow kind like ice cream or pudding.

🎀She happened to see you in the lobby room by yourself, humming while eating some type of stick. She questioned you, wondering what you were doing. "Oh hey Vaggie. Nothing just eating some pocky, want one?" Pocky? what was that? She noticed that box in your hand, reading the label "Cookies and Creme Pocky."

🎀 Noticing her confusion, you said they were a cookie like biscuit covered in flavored chocolate. She brightened a bit more at that, saying "Sure", and proceeded to sit next to you, grabbing the box from your hand.

🎀She tried a bit a first, until she grabbed two more sticks and began to eat away at them. Well, you were happy she like them. The both of you just sat in silence, continuing to eat the pocky. A thought clicked in your head, remembering the pocky game. Placing a pocky between your lips, you turned to Vaggie, while tapping her shoulder.

🎀She looked at you, pocky between your lips, smiling. She raised an eyebrow, wondering what the heck you were doing. You explained to her about the pocky game that could be played with two people, and said if she wanted to play. Moving the stick playfully with your lips, you continued to stare at Vaggie, urging her to play.

🎀She gave an unimpressed look, grabbing the pocky from your mouth and pulled it away. "Aww come on." you said, sadly. You were about to say something else, until you saw her get closer to your face, giving a small peck on your lips before pulling away. "WHA-!" Your face turned bright red, as you stared at Vaggie in shock

🎀She was just acting nonchalant, like nothing just happened as she continued to eat the pocky, while you were still contemplating what the hell just happened.

Angel Dust🕷

🕷Angel Dust was a glutton for sweets, especially if they were slightly erotic. He has done many porn scenes, featuring edible underwear or with food like whipped cream or chocolate.

🕷He happened to walk past your room, seeing the door opened a crack. Peeking in, you saw you sitting on your bed, with headphones in your ears, while munching on something. Raising an eyebrow, he entered inside, closing the door as he made his way over to your bed.

🕷You hadn't realize he had come inside, until you saw him plop in the center of the bed, causing you to jump and let out a yelp. He was positioned on the bed, provocatively, laying on his side, while he placed on his hands against his cheek, smirking at you. Removing your headphones, you yelled at Angel not to scare you like that.

🕷He rolled his eyes, before pointing at the box in your hand: "Whatcha eating their toots?" Oh he was curious. You went on to explain to him that it was pocky, a biscuit like sweet. "They are strawberry flavored, do you want one?" Taking one out of the box, you handed it to him. He grabbed it with one of his hands, and held it in front of his face, unimpressed. "Sucks that aren't di✪✪ shaped." You gave him a look that said, really, as he popped the thing in his mouth and began to eat it.

🕷"Eh not bad." as he grabbed a few more from the box and began to munch on them. As you watched him eat, you thought of the game that was very popular in the human world with these treats. Smirking a bit, you snapped your fingers to get his attention. Angel turned towards you, wondering what you wanted. "Angel do you want to play the pocky game with me?" Angel question you, asking what type of game was it. "Well two players put the stick between the both of them, and they eat away at it. You can either pull away or not."

🕷You watched his reaction, wondering if he was up for it. Suddenly, he sat up quickly, as his four arms pulled you closer. He positioned you on his lap, placing two hands around your waist, while placing the other two on your cheeks. His lips were drawn into a smirk, and he was giving you bedroom eyes: "Awww~ Ya want a kiss from yours truly~? Why didn't you say so~?" He was speaking very seductively to you, causing goosebumps to appear on your body.

🕷He slowly leaned in, taking the other end of the pocky with his mouth, and started to move slowly. Your heartbeat was racing by how close he was and how intimate the atmosphere was now. His pinks irises were gorgeous, drawing you in. His hands had wrapped around you snugly, pulling you closer to him. You heard him give a soft chuckle, his eyes lidded with lust as he inched closer and closer to your mouth. You slowly closed your eyes, as you felt his lips molded into yours.

🕷The kiss lasted for a good minute, before it ended, with the both of you panting. "Hehe~. Well that was fun. Did ya enjoy it toots?" He was still holding your cheeks with his hands, while his eyes gazed at you lovingly. Smiling, you gave a nod, while biting your lip. "Wanna play again?" you asked, giving him a shy smile. He smiled widely, showing his golden tooth. "Sure babe, but we can play without the sticks this time~." He leaned closer, interlocking lips again, as your back hit the bed.

Niffty🪡

🪡Niffty knew exactly what pocky was. This girl was a hidden weeaboo. She was cleaning around the lobby of the hotel, sweeping the ceilings left and right with a feather duster. She heard the sound of feet clattering on the floor, and turned to see you walking with a plastic bag.

🪡Taking a seat on the couch, you reach inside and pulled out a box of pocky. You were surprised that they had them in Hell, especially the chocolate banana one. As you laid back ready to eat some pocky, you turned to see a giant eye in front of you, causing you to jump.

🪡"Ohhhhhhhh! You got pocky? Gimme gimme gimme!!" she jumped on the couch, super excited and making grabby hands at you. Calming down and laughing at how cute she was, you gave her a few sticks, to which she smiled widely at and started to eat them happily.

🪡"How do you know about pocky, Niffty?" you asked, to which she quickly responded with "Fanfiction!" As you both continued to eat some pocky, you thought back to the pocky game that could be played and asked Niffty if she wanted to play. Niffty squealed in glee, grabbing a stick and placing it between both of your mouths. You were surprised she wanted to play, honestly.

🪡You were about to start nibbling, but Niffty sped ate the whole stick, letting your lips touch for a brief second, before she pulled away smiling. It took you a second to register everything that happened, especially since it was so quick. Niffty didn't say anything after that, just continued to eat the pocky sticks, until she ran to go get a broom, since there were crumbs now all over the couch and floor.

Husk🍺

🍺Husk didn't really give a fu✪✪ about sweets. His attention focuses more on the bottle in his hand. He does indulge in sweet flavored liquor, but only on certain occasions.

🍺He was snoozing a bit on the bar, having drunk a bit too much last night. His ears twitched as he heard the sound of someone taking a seat. Peeking his eyes open, he saw you with your phone in hand, along with some type of stick in your mouth. "The fu✪✪ is that?" he thought.

🍺You were taking a bit of a snack break, and decided to eat some chocolate pocky while scrolling through your phone. Taking a break, you looked away and spotted Husk staring at you. "Hey Husk." you have a small wave. He gave a grumble, removing himself from the bar and gave a stretch, hearing his back crack. "Hey kid. What is that long toothpick doing in your mouth?" He pointed at the pocky, that was hanging between your lips.

🍺You told him that it was pocky, not a toothpick. You asked him if he wanted to try one. He shrugged his shoulders and went to grab one from the box, before you pulled it away. "Wait..can you eat chocolate? Since your a cat demon and all." you looked at him with mild concern. He rolled his eyes at that, and grabbed the box from you, placing one stick inside his mouth. His face stayed the same, wearing his usual pout. He gave the box back to you, but grabbed some more sticks.

🍺Well your glad he didn't hate them. The both of you just ate the pocky in silence, until you had a thought. "Hey Husk, wanna play a small game?" Husk brighten a bit at that, giving a smirk: "You wanna play cards kid?" Shaking your head, you place a pocky stick in his mouth and explained the game to him. You knew for a fact he wouldn't agree to play this game. He could barely stand Angel's constant flirts, so the idea of him playing a kissing game was VERY slim.

🍺Husk gave an annoyed grumble, uttering a fine, as he leaned closer with the biscuit in his mouth. Wait really?!?!? He wanted to play?! Leaning in, you placed your mouth on the other. The both of you stood still for a second, until you slowly started to nibble. As you ate, you eyes were drawn to Husk. His black eyes were gazing into yours. Instead of the usual slits, his eyes were dilated, hinting he wasn't pissed doing this. You continued to admire him, gazing at his ears and red wings.

🍺You were about to pull away, thinking he probably didn't want to reach the end. As you started to back away, his hands had grabbed your shoulders, stooping you. His wings also folded in and wrapped around your back, encasing you. His lips then reached yours, gazing your eyes to widen in shock. The kiss continued between the both of you, before he pulled away.

🍺He noticed your flustered appearance, and chuckled. "Whats the matter kid? Cat got your tongue?" Covering your face with your hands, letting out a muffled shut up, you tried to calm your heart down. Husk patted your head, saying "sorry kid." You heard the sounds of some liquid being poured and you removed your hands to see that Husk was making your favorite cocktail. He finished and placed it in front of you, saying it was on the house, before walking away from the bar.

Alastor🎙

🎙Alastor would have no clue what pocky was. Only thing he was interested in was radio, murder, dad jokes, jambalaya, and jazz. Other stuff that wasn't any of those things he wouldn't associate with it.

🎙He was walking down the halls, humming a tune, when his ears perked up at the sound of jazz playing. Walking closer to the sounds, he had arrived at the door to your room, that was opened a bit. He picked his head in, seeing you sitting in the floor near your bed, folding some clothes. You were bopping your head at the tunes while also munching on something. You heard the sound of static, and turned your head to see Alastor. “Hey Al! You need something?” You smiled up at Alastor, placing the folded shirt in your hands on top of your lap.

🎙️Alastor smiled and entered inside your room, standing next to you with his arms behind his back. “No! Nothing at all, my dear! Just heard the sweet sounds of jazz playing!” Chuckling at that, you gestured to your bed saying he can take a seat there if he wants. He smiled more at that, walking over to your bed, and taking a seat, crossing his legs. Remembering what you were doing, you went back to folding your clothes, and eating the rest of the pocky in your mouth. “What is that strange stick you are nibbling on?” You heard him ask. Turning your head to look at him, he was laying on his stomach, smiling at you while kicking his feet.

🎙️ “Oh it’s pocky. It’s a treat I use to enjoy when I was alive. Charlie had actually found some in a store in hell and got some for me.” Grabbing the box, you lifted it up towards Al, asking if he wanted some. He scrunched his nose at that: “Apologies, my dear, but I’m not one for sweets, so I politely decline.” “These are not too sweet, they are 60% cacao ones so they are a bit more bitter.” You tried to convince him, but he turned his head away.

🎙️Ugh he was so stubborn! Trying to think of a way to get him to try it, you came up with an idea, it was risky but you think you could pull it off. Getting up from your position, you walked over to the door and locked it, before turning back to Alastor, who raised his eyebrow at you in confusion. “I wanna make a deal with you.” Radio screech! Well that shocked the hell out of him, where did this come from all of a sudden. His smile outstretched his entire face, as he continued to lay on the bed, placing his hands under his chin. "Oh ho! It appears I have rubbed off on you a bit. May you care to enlighten me on the negotiations for this deal?" You wanted to take back what you said, but it was too late to go back.

🎙️"Me and you are going to play the pocky game. No soul stealing or any funny business. Just a simple game between you and me and you can't refuse." Placing your hands on your hip, you eyed Alastors expression, seeing if he would take the deal or not. He tiled his head at you, eyes clouded in confusion. "Pocky game?" Oh right, he didn't know about that stuff. After you explained the game to him, he still continued to stare at you. "And if i refuse to partake in this?" His face showed disinterest, clearly not wanting to go through with it. "Aww is the radio demon afraid of losing?" you smirked. The sound of static got louder, and Alastor eyes had flashed into radio dials. Him afraid?! Hah, what a joke! Snapping his fingers, your body started to levitate and fly over to him, landing on the bed with a thud, as he got up from his position. His clawed hand grabbed your chin, tiling it up to have you look at him. "You are quite bold, aren't you. I'll agree to this little deal of yours. I hope you are prepared for the consequences."

🎙️His voice had deepened a bit, the static no longer masking his voice. This was giving you goosebumps all over. You didn't mean to upset him. Removing his hand from your chin, he extended it out towards you, ready to make the deal. Grabbing his hand, a shocking sensation formed once your hands connected and a slight green glow appeared around your hands. Letting go, you grabbed the box from the ground, and pulled out one of the pocky sticks, placing one end in your mouth, waiting for Al to grab the other. He had to bend down closer to you, given how tall he was. His mouth had grabbed the other end, and you both started to move slowly.

🎙️The atmosphere was so tense. You could feel your heart beating like crazy at this situation. Heat had risen in your face as you continued to stare at Al. You were able to see more of his features since he was so close to you. His eyes were a beautiful crimson red, drawing you in. The tufts of hair on top of his head were moving a bit, which you found adorable. Al noticed your eyes gazing at him, seeing admiration instead of fear. His own heart melted at that, as he chuckled softly, moving inch by inch closer to your mouth. The game then drew to an end with both of your lips touching. The kiss was merely a peck, until Al placed a hand on your cheek, deepening it a bit more. Kissing for a bit longer, you both decided to let go.

🎙️Your face felt like a million degrees, and you began to trace your lips with your fingers. Al still had a smile on his face, but you caught the hint of pink on his cheeks. His eyes were more calmer now, indicating that he was not as upset as before. "My, what an entertaining game that was!" His smile grew wider, as he continued to stare at you. Feeling shy, you looked down: "I'm glad you enjoyed it." Neither of you said a word after that, filling the room with silence. Deciding it was better to just move past what happened, you moved to go back to folding the rest of the clothes on the floor. A hand had grabbed yours, pulling you back. Your body had then moved from the bed to his lap, causing you to give a small yelp.

🎙️His hand had grabbed your chin, causing you to look up at him. His glowing eyes were looking at you with hints of desire. "As I said before, you better be prepared for the consequences of this deal. We will continue to play this until I am satisfied. Understood, darling?" His voice had dropped to a whisper, as the lights in your room began to dim. Gulping, you gave a small nod. Alastor let out a chuckle, before moving closer, whispering "Good girl."

Sir Pentious🐍

🐍Sir Pentious was a very classy man. He was from the Victorian era, so he wasn't up to date with many of the new and modern things, but he was interested to learn, since he wanted to be "cool."

🐍He was in the hotel gardens, watering some plants while his egg bois were helping him, or trying to as they tried to lift the water can or start little slap fights between themselves. He stopped watering, as he heard the sounds of what sounded like paper. Stopping what he was doing, he slithered to the other area of the garden. He spotted you, sitting on the ground, with a book on your lap, while eating something. "Well hello y/n." Looking up from your book, you saw Sir Pent looking at you with a soft smile. "Hi Pent, whatcha doing?" Sir pentious smiled wider, and extended his hand to the flowers: "Ah! I, the great Sir Pentioussss was watering the flowerssss." His way of speaking always made you laugh. Giving a nod, you went back to your book, eating away at the biscuit.

🐍Sir Pentious noticed what you were eating, and slithered down to sit next to you. "What issss that peculiar ssssstick in your mouth?" He raised a hand and pointed at your lips. Oh did he not know what pocky was? Grabbing the box next to you, you held it up in front of him. "These are little fudge biscuits. I loved eating them when I was alive. They have many flavors. These ones are matcha flavored, which is a kind of tea. Do you want to try one?" Grabbing one of the sticks, you handed it to him. Grabbing the stick carefully, he examined it like it was some kind of tool. He gave it a little nibble, causing eyes to widen in amazement, as he began to eat it faster. "These are excellent! May I have other one?" He extended his hand out, giving you a shy smile.

🐍You gave him some more, and the both of you continued to eat in silence, watching the Egg bois fooling around. Thinking back to the time when you were alive, you remembered the game that could be played with the little treats. "Hey Pent, do you want to play a small game?" Sir pentious looked a you, tiling his head, asking what kind of game. Grabbing one of the sticks, you gestured to him, explaining the rules of the pocky game. The more and more you explained the rules, the more flustered his face got. He realized if he played the game, you both would, you would-. His dark face was turning red, even his hat looked nervous. Noticing his expression, you told him he didn't have play if it made him uncomfortable.

🐍Sir Pentious shook his head, "I will play thisssss game! Prepare yourself!" He had grabbed the stick, and placed it between his fang lips. You knew he was nervous, given how red his face was. Smiling, you took the other end, and slowly started to nibble. Sir Pentious was just frozen there like a statue, he didn't eat at the stick, his emotions were going crazy. Sensing his distress, you grabbed his hand, rubbing your finger against it. That calmed him down, thankfully, as he started to eat at the pocky stick. The both of you got closer and closer, and soon both of your lips had touched. It lasted for a few seconds, until you saw Sir Pentious fall backwards.

🐍"Sir Pentious!!" you saw him fall backwards, landing on his back. He had apparently fainted from what just happened. His egg bois noticed and rushed over to him, saying "Boss are you okay?" They tried to shake him awake, but he was still passed out. Giving a laugh, you moved his body, positioning his head on your lap, making sure he was comfortable at least. You would have him rest there until he woke up, as you grabbed your book, and started to read again with a flustered past out snake on your lap.

~END~

Tagging:

@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked, @ghostdoodlen, @aceofcards0-0, @jyoongim, @saturnhas82moons, @unholycheesesnack , @luujjvi, @forbidden-sunlight, @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping@danveration , @demoarah, @cookiekyo , @iiotic, @delectableworm , @91062854-ka , @alastorsgoldie , @lokis-imaginary-friend , @themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @pawstrey , @futureittomainn , @christinaatyourservice92 , @littledolly2345

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holylulusworld · 2 months

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Dinner for four

Summary: You, your husband, and little Bucky eat together to celebrate something special.

Pairing: AU!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, pregnant reader, daddy Bucky

Catch up here: Dinner for three

“Daddy, tell me again how you met Mommy,” your son tugs at his father’s sleeve. “DADDY! DADDY!” James Buchanan Jr. is a little whirlwind. The spit-image of you and Bucky. Of course, the little boy got his father’s cocky attitude and smirk.

“Bucky Jr., don’t annoy your daddy. He just came home and invited us for dinner. Isn’t he a great daddy?” You tut and run your hand over your son’s head. He excitedly jumps up and down and grins at his father.

“Daddy? Can I have ice cream too?” Your son pouts and sniffles. “Please, daddy.”

“You’ll ask your mommy,” Bucky crouches down to ruffle his son’s hair. “She’s the boss, you know.”

“Mommy is the boss,” your son nods and turns around to give you an even cuter pout. “Mommy, can I have ice cream?”

“If you are a good boy and eat your dinner first, you’ll get ice cream,” you peck his hair. “Daddy can have some too.”

“What about you and little sis?” Your son turns around to place his tiny hands on your grown belly. He gasps and looks up at you like you are a wonder. “Baby sister kicked my hands.”

“She knows you are her big brother and wants your attention.” You smile at your son. He’s eager to meet his little sister and loves to rub your belly whenever he gets the chance to do so.

“YEAH!” He gasps and covers his mouth with his tiny hands. “I’m going to be the best big brother.”

“We know you’ll be the best big brother,” Bucky softly speaks to your son. “I’m proud of you, son.”

“Your table is ready,” you smile at the hostess. “I assume you’ll take the usual.”

Bucky picks your son up to carry him toward the table. He helps him to sit next to you before pulling the chair for you. “You look beautiful tonight, doll,” Bucky whispers in your ear. He kisses your cheek and runs his hand over your belly.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Mr. Barnes,” you watch Bucky sit on the table. He looks at the only empty seat next to him, already imagining watching his daughter enjoy the food at your favorite restaurant.

“I’m wearing my best suit for you, Mrs. Barnes,” he winks at you and smirks. “If you play your cards right tonight, I’ll give you belly rubs and a nice foot massage.”

“If you play your cards right, I’ll allow you to do more than rub my belly,” you snicker when his cheeks turn pink. “After he put little Bucky to sleep, of course.”

“Mommy, can I rub your belly too?” Your son hopefully looks at your belly. “I bet I can make her kick me again!”

“Later, bud,” Bucky says. “We will eat first, okay. Your mommy and sister are hungry. We need to take good care of mommy. She’s having your sister. Remember?”

Your son nods eagerly. He clasps his hands together, forming a plan to help you cook tomorrow. You’re eight months pregnant and are thankful for any help.

“What do you want to eat, Bucky Jr.?” You run your hand over your son’s head. “You can order anything you want. Daddy pays.”

“Daddy pays,” your son grins. “For my ice cream too!”

“He’s his mother’s son,” Bucky fake-sighs. He knows that your son holds your heart, just like Bucky.

“No, he’s his father’s son,” you shoot back. “Like father, like son.”

Bucky grins from ear to ear. He loves hearing that his son is as cocky and lovable as he is. “You can never have enough Bucky in this world.”

“I second that,” you wink at your husband. “Who else would’ve invited a lonely woman and her teddy bear to eat with him? Only a hero in an expensive suit.”

“Daddy, do you love mommy?” Your son suddenly asks. He looks a little emotional, and you immediately worry about him.

“Baby boy, I love your mommy so much I’d do anything for her,” Bucky is quick to reply. “Why do you ask, bud?”

“My friend said that his daddy doesn’t love his mommy anymore,” your son sniffles now. “That made me sad. I don’t want you to leave Mommy.”

“I’d never leave your mommy,” your husband gets up to crouch down next to your son. “See, your mommy is having your baby sister because I love her so much. And I love you too, bud.”

“Okay,” your son nods. “I love Mommy too, and you.”

Bucky wraps his arms around your son and pats his back. “I love you too, bud. So, so much. You’re my baby boy.”

You sniffle and try to hold back the tears. Watching your husband and son together makes your heart swell. “Imagine, soon we are having dinner for four, Bucky.”

“I can hardly wait…”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #Dinner for four #pregnant reader #daddy Bucky #bucky barnes x you

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saturncodedstarlette · 3 months

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Leon : Okay, so I didn’t know what kind of ice creams you like, so I got you all of them

Y/N, watching the delivery guys installed the new freezer in the kitchen :

Y/N : Leon, babe, light of my life, sweetums, teddy bear—

Leon : *sweetly hums* ?

Y/N : There’s like four hundred boxes—

Y/N : —of just ice cream??

Leon : Uhh yes? We can get more if you want or do you want something else—

Y/N, jumped on him : Leon, I love you—

Y/N : —But don’t encourage my addiction, please! One of us being an addict is enough!

#I found the prompt from @koreecob on Tumblr #but I changed it up a bit #and added some lines of my own #Resident Evil #Resident Evil x reader #Resident Evil incorrect quotes #resident evil leon kennedy #Leon S. Kennedy #Leon Kennedy #Leon Kennedy x reader #Leon Kennedy x you #Leon S. Kennedy x reader #Leon S. Kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #Leon S. Kennedy fluff #My 2024 works

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yamigooops · 1 year

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good luck charm

synopsis: when you decide to get a little cheeky and put on a cute cowboy’s hat you get a lot more than you bargained for

warnings: strangers to lovers, slight size kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, Katsuki’s a playful bastard (if there are any I’m missing let me know lmao)

length: 9.7k

inspired by an ask submitted to @kingkatsuki by @thecowboykatsuki-anon and featuring art based on the same idea by @jozstanko-art we’re all just whipped by this fucker and want to put his hat on and have him fuck us silly

Rodeos weren’t particularly your thing, considering you had grown up in the suburbs your entire life. College had introduced you to people who had grown up with lifestyles contrary to your own, including your best friend Mina, who had grown up in a small rural town. Where she had grown up everyone knew each other, and things like farms and town fairs and rodeos were commonplace among the population.

So, when she invited you to one of said rodeos after your junior year had ended you were intrigued enough to oblige. She had told you about them for the past three years, and you were somewhat curious after all the hype she had placed on them. So about two weeks after the semester ended you found yourself in her hometown. It was a small town, with a main street that consisted of about three blocks of bars and independent shops that provided everything from boutiques to ice cream parlors.

As the day approached dusk on your summer vacation you found yourself at the main fairgrounds for the (apparently monthly) rodeo and trying not to entirely mentally check out. You genuinely had no idea what was going on, despite the fact that Mina had spent the hour and a half drive from your university apartment to her childhood home explaining everything that happened at a rodeo. All you could grasp was that there were three events and which ones her friends competed in. One competed in two, while another competed in the other.

The third friend competed in all three events and was recognized area-wide as exemplary in all of them, and by the way Mina described this man he was incredibly attractive. So, you spent your free time on the drive imagining how this man looked. You only knew he had blonde, spiky hair, red eyes, and a near permanent scowl. However, considering he participated in all three of these events you had to assume he was in peak physical condition. Something about Mina’s description of him made your stomach flutter.

As she pulled into the parking lot of the arena you realized just how popular this event was. It seemed as though every person in town was here, and the parking had spilled over from the actual lot onto the field surrounding it. Once you had parked in the closest possible spot, you and Mina made your way over to the competitors’ area.

Since she knew so many of the participants the two of you were permitted past the gate reading “Competitors and staff only.” She led you through a light crowd of men and women, many of whom were decked out in full cowboy regalia. There was also the occasional horse, bull, or steer being led to their pens to await their turn on the arena floor.

Coming to a pair of young men, Mina bounced on the balls of her feet and tapped a red-haired man on the shoulder. He turned around questioningly before lighting up at the sight of your best friend.

“Well look who finally made it,” boomed the man. He towered over you, absolutely built but attractive in a big puppy kind of way. His smile was infectious, and as he pulled Mina into a bear hug, you found yourself smiling as well.

“Eiji, I missed you so much!” Mina practically jumped onto her friend, her arms clinging around his neck. So, this must have been Kirishima. Now that you heard his name you could recall several stories Mina had shared with you about the red-haired giant. She had also shared with you, in confidence of course, that she’d had the biggest crush on him since middle school, but never worked up the courage to ask him out.

“Missed you too,” he murmured, his face buried in her neck. If you didn’t know any better, it would have looked like the two were already dating. The thought had you chuckling, as it was quite obvious that Kirishima felt the same way about Mina. You supposed it was probably easier to see as an outsider.

“God, get a room, will ya?” came a gruff voice from behind the pair. You shifted your attention from the closeted lovers before you to the man standing just behind them. Sure enough, based on Mina’s description of him, you assumed it was Bakugou Katsuki. Only he was so much more attractive than you had expected. His garnet eyes were piercing as they moved from Kirishima and Mina over to rest on you, and you found yourself blushing and looking away under his intense gaze. “And who are you?”

“Oh, guys this is my best friend and roommate Y/N,” Mina supplied, releasing Kirishima from the chokehold she had him in and moving back to your side to prompt you forward. “She finally agreed to come see you guys compete!”

“Wow, that’s awesome. Thank you so much, and it’s nice to meet ya,” grinned Kirishima as he held out his hand to shake yours. He was the picture of gentlemanly perfection, and you found yourself instantly drawn toward him.

“Absolutely, I figured I should come see what all the hype is after this one talked it up so much for three years,” you chuckled and gestured toward your pink-haired friend. “She talks about you guys all the time.”

“Better be good things,” grumbled Bakugou, crossing his arms over his chest. The action had his black, green and red plaid shirt pulling tight over his biceps and chest, drawing your attention to the rest of his physique. His thighs were massive, though you supposed that was from years of training to ride bucking animals. His leather chaps had imagery of explosions down the sides, and flared out at the ends along with his dark jeans to accommodate his leather cowboy boots. Atop his head sat a well-loved black cowboy hat, beneath which his spikes of ash blonde hair peeked.

“Oh, only the best. I hear that you guys are some of the best riders around,” you nodded. His slight scowl didn’t budge, and in that moment, you decided you’d make it your goal to get him to smile by the end of the night.

“Aww, thank you Mina,” Kirishima crooned, throwing his arm around the smaller girl.

“Of course, I’d say good things, ya doofus. You guys are my best friends.” Mina’s cheeks were darkening from the proximity to the “love of her life,” as she had put it so many times.

You chuckled, watching as the childhood friends caught up with one another. There were two more that joined, named Sero and Denki, and as the conversation continued and the crowd shifted, you found yourself shoulder-to-shoulder with Bakugou after a while. You chimed in every once in a while, but mainly let Mina catch up with her friends. Bakugou seemed to have a similar approach to the conversation, watching as Mina and Kirishima cluelessly flirted and teased one another.

“Are they always this oblivious?” You kept your words quiet as you directed them toward the blonde beside you.

“Those two have been doing this shit for years,” he sighed. “We keep tryin’ to get em together, tell them that they’re into each other, but they’re about as dense as two blocks of concrete.”

You snorted, “Must be exhausting having to watch that for so many years.”

“You ain’t got a clue.” He let out a puff of air through his nose, and when you peeked up at him through your lashes, you realized it was a chuckle. There was a shadow of a smile on his lips, and you felt your chest glow with pride at having gotten even that out of the stoic man.

“You should smile more,” you said teasingly, bumping your shoulder against his, though it was admittedly more against his bicep than anything.

“That a command, little missy?” He turned those burning eyes on you once again, and you felt something tighten deep within you. Feeling a surge of confidence roll through you as you captured his attention, you reached up and plucked his hat off his head before plopping it down on your own. It was warm and smelled like his shampoo, something deep and spicy. His lips slowly slid into a sly grin as you tilted your head back slightly more than before to be able to see him under the brim of it.

“I think it suits you,” you shrugged, grinning playfully up at him. “Makes you look a little less bullish.”

As you held his gaze for a few more moments, you slowly registered that the conversation around you had quieted. Breaking away from the intensifying exchange, you found the rest of the group skeptically watching your exchange.

“What is it?” You asked Mina worriedly, hoping you hadn’t done anything wrong.

“N-Nothing, it’s just that Kats is kinda protective of that hat,” Kirishima supplied after a moment of hesitant silence from Mina. “Doesn’t usually let people wear it. Says it’s lucky or somethin’.”

So, you had messed up.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry! Here you-” You scrambled to take off the hat and hand it back to the man beside you. However, before you could put it back on his head, he grabbed your wrist and held it, drawing your slightly panicked attention.

“No worries,” he drawled, that sly smile still gracing his lips. “You should wear it during my ride. Wouldn’t want to get it dirty, right?”

“Kats, man,” Kirishima started, a cautious tone to his voice.

“I couldn’t, not if it’s lucky… I thought this competition decided if you went to that big championship or whatever,” your voice trailed off as he eased the hat from your fingers, holding it by the top as he slowly placed it back on your head.

“Then you be my good luck charm, ‘kay?” His hand still gripped your wrist, his skin hot and calloused but his hold gentle and strangely… loving?

“Dude, he never even lets us touch that thing, much less wear it,” whispered Denki to Sero off to the side. That tightening in your core grew as you could only nod.

“O-Okay,” you breathed, knowing you probably looked like a deer in headlights right in that moment. He let the hat go with a gentle shake to your head before releasing your wrist as well.

A tense moment of silence passed before a booming voice cut through and announced that the events would be starting soon and that competitors should head to their places. Blinking a few times to try and focus on anything but the blonde cowboy before you, Mina took your hand and told the others to do their best and approximately where the two of you would be sitting. You dazedly wished them all luck before following closely behind Mina to your seats

As the events began, you couldn’t get that moment out of your head. It didn’t help that the outcome of it was literally sitting on top of it the entire time in the form of a black cowboy hat, but when Katsuki came on for the first event you knew you were doomed. He was spectacular. The horse bucked and jumped beneath him, trying its best to eject him from his seat on its bare back. But he held strong, one hand tethering him to the animal while the other waved through the air as he moved back and forth atop the animal.

He lasted the necessary 8 seconds, along with 3 more before the animal was finally subdued by both the team of handlers and Katsuki himself. As he took in the raging crowd, waving out at the people chanting his name and cheering him on, he eventually found you, probably thanks to his hat perched proudly atop your head. You stood there cheering for him, but the heat and weight of his gaze was palpable even though you were across the arena from him.

As the next contestant moved into place, you turned to Mina with a sigh. “Alright, what gives? What’s the deal with the hat?”

Mina glanced at you hesitantly, as if she didn’t want to scare you. “Uh, it’s just a thing we say around here that you probably never knew about. It’s nothing, don’t even worry about it.”

“Well, it’s too late for that,” you groaned over the crowd. “You guys all looked at me like I made some fatal mistake when I put the hat on. Then he put it back on and everyone got all weird. So, what does it mean?”

Mina threw her head back and sighed dramatically, “Fine,” she relented. “There’s a saying that if you put the hat on you get the cowboy. That’s why we all got weird. But you obviously didn’t know about that so you don’t have to worry. Bakugou is respectful, he was probably just taken off guard, that’s all.” Mina grabbed your hand, recapturing your attention which had strayed off as you realized what you’d done. “Seriously, Y/N. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I’ll beat him up myself if he tries anything, got it? Kiri will too.”

You nodded hollowly, trying to comprehend what was happening. You get the cowboy too? Does that mean romantically? Sexually?? Sure, Katsuki was attractive as hell, and you’d been flirting when you put his hat on in the first place anyway. But would he even be interested in you that way? And besides, you’d only just met!

But as the competitions continued, the possibility of getting with Katsuki grew more and more appealing. As you watched him in the steer wrestling event you were made aware of how powerful and fast he was. As he took down the animal in just over 3 seconds, you found yourself squirming in your seat.

Then, later, during the bull riding, he impressed you even further as he held onto the enraged creature. You held your breath the entire time, hoping against hope that nothing bad would happen to him, and couldn’t hold back your sigh of relief as he made it through the event almost completely unscathed. He had only fallen on the ground after the time limit had elapsed, and for a split second you feared the animal would try to trample him. But the team of handlers quickly calmed the bull, and Bakugou made his way over to it to pat it on the head with the brightest grin on his face before they returned to the pen it came from.

It turned out he had done incredibly well in all three events, and would be moving on to the state competition taking place in two weeks’ time along with Kirishima. As you and Mina made your way back down to meet up with them after the events had concluded, you chuckled as your friend made a beeline toward the red-haired giant. This time she really did jump into his arms, congratulating him profusely as he thanked her over and over.

As those two were distracted by one another, Bakugou slowly made his way over to you. That tightness returned to your stomach, and you plastered a weak smile on your face as he stopped before you. Unable to meet his eyes, you looked down at your feet as you congratulated him.

“You were amazing out there.” You tried to raise your voice enough to be heard above the surrounding din. “Congratulations on moving on.”

Two fingers slipped beneath the brim of his hat and tugged it upward, removing the shield between the two of you as he eased it off your head. “What was that? Couldn’t quite hear ya under there.”

You met his gaze as you felt your face heat up. “I said congratulations on moving to the next round,” you huffed. He had probably heard you, but wanted to fluster you.

“Guess you really were a good luck charm, huh?”

“I know what the hat thing means,” you rolled your eyes. “Besides, it had nothing to do with luck. You obviously know what you’re doing out there.”

He let out a bark of a laugh, reaching up to place his hat back on his head. “I beg to differ,” he grinned. “Seein’ you out there in the crowd, wearing this thing, that had everything to do with why I did so well.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. You’d only met this man a few hours ago, but your attraction toward him was already so strong. Was it his looks? His personality? That damned superiority complex? Or was it something else?

“And if you’re so in the know about what wearin’ my hat means, what are you gonna do about it?” He was closer now, his voice lower and the intensity of his gaze heavier. You could feel his breath on your now-exposed face, and had to fight the urge to look away as he tilted his head slightly to the left.

“Not sure yet,” you shrugged, trying with every fiber of your being to stay calm, to sound nonchalant. Inside, however, that desire for him was burning hotter than ever, that tightness in your core growing toward an unbearable pressure. “What should I do?”

He smiled again at that. “You should let me treat ya to a drink and let me get to know ya better.” His proposal was so smooth it had you floundering for purchase as he reached up to tweak your chin between his thumb and the side of his forefinger.

This is really happening, you said to yourself. This god of a man was really asking you out for a drink, and you would be an idiot to decline, especially with that pool of need growing in your stomach.

“Sounds like a plan, cowboy,” you shrugged before reaching up. “I get to wear this though,” you smirked and lifted the hat from his head once more.

“By all means, be my guest.” He seemed to want to devour you as you placed the item on your head again, and that made your inner goddess preen with delight.

“Hey, Mina,” you called, looking over to your friend where she stood chatting with Kirishima. She looked over toward you before an expression of surprise crossed her features at the sight of you and Bakugou. “We’re going out for a drink, that okay?”

She slowly developed a wicked grin as she realized what was happening before she nodded. “Absolutely, have so much fun.”

“Thanks, I will,” you nodded. Bakugou slid his hand into yours and started leading you out of the venue, but not before Kirishima called out after you.

“For the love of god, use protection!”

Your face exploded into flames at his shouted words, as they brought numerous people's attention toward you. It didn’t help that everyone seemed to know that the hat you wore belonged to the man beside you. So, in an attempt to escape their prying eyes, you turned down your head and tried to hide behind the brim of his hat.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Bakugou chided as you neared the exit. “I want ‘em to see how pretty you look in my hat.”

“You’re not helping,” you hissed, wishing people would stop whispering about how they’d never seen you around and how surprised they were to see someone wearing Bakugou’s hat.

He simply chuckled beside you as he led you toward his pickup truck. It was ginormous, and he had to help you up into the passenger’s seat. But once inside and when he had turned the air on, you found it was far comfier than your own car. It looked well-maintained and the interior was surprisingly clean, considering he was a farm hand.

“You really do look good in it,” he remarked as he pulled out of the parking lot. “But please don’t feel pressured to do anything you don’t want to do, alright?” Though his voice was still gruff like it always was, it had a sincere softness to it that had you looking up at him instead of down at your hands. He glanced over at you as he stopped at a red light.

“Okay,” you nodded, and smiled as he reached over to flick the brim.

“I got it when I was twelve,” he stated after a few moments of silence. “Was a present from my ma. It’s by the same maker as the hat my idol wears.”

“And who’s that?” You asked the question even though you knew the name would likely hold no significance to you. It just made you happy to hear him opening up to you.

“Toshinori Yagi. People called him All Might because of how good he was. The guy’s a rodeo legend. Set the world record for most time on bull-back, and the fastest steer takedown. It’s my goal to break those someday.” He looked out on the road ahead of him with a faraway look in his eyes. There was a wistfulness to his voice as well, and you knew that this hat really did mean the world to him.

“I think you can do it,” you said softly, despite your lack of knowledge.

He smirked, looking at you briefly. “Ya barely know the first thing about rodeo. How do you know I can break those records? They were set over twenty years ago, and people have been trying ever since. What makes you think I can do it?”

“You seem like a really tenacious guy,” you shrugged. “Like you fight for what you want and don’t give up till you get it.”

“Well, you aren’t wrong there, I’m definitely tenacious. My friends would probably call it bull-headed, but I like your description better.” He was quiet for a moment before he tentatively reached out to brush his fingers against the back of your hand, like he was asking permission. You looked up at him, only to meet his red gaze, made even redder by the glow of the red light he stopped at.

Taking a breath in through your nose, you eased your hand over and let him thread his fingers through yours. You hadn’t really registered how warm he was when he’d been holding it earlier on the way out, but in the quiet and intimate space of his truck you were honed in on the feeling of his calloused skin against yours. This was his riding hand, the one he used to keep himself from being flung from the backs of enraged animals. It was probably strong enough to break your own smaller hand, but the care with which he held it astounded you.

“I’ve gotta admit, I’ve heard about you from Mina,” he offered as the light switched to green. “Was kinda lookin’ forward to meetin’ ya.”

“Well, I hope I didn’t disappoint,” you laughed nervously. Sure, you’d heard about him, but he had turned out to be so different from what Mina had described. She had told you about a man with anger issues who sucked at making new friends and always wanted to fight others. And while he did seem to be those things, he also apparently had a softer side, one which he only showed to certain people. And you weren’t quite sure how you’d become one of those people, but you couldn’t exactly say you were upset about it.

“Course not,” he grinned. “She told me you were a spitfire, so I was lookin’ forward to having someone to jibe with. Certainly didn’t disappoint in that area.”

“Well good, I’d hate to leave a future record-holder wanting for more,” you giggled softly.

“She showed me pictures of you too,” he added almost hesitantly. “And I must say you aren’t disappointing there either.”

Your cheeks flared up at the compliment, but you fought back the urge to curl up in a ball and insist he was just being nice. “Thank you.” The words were laced with more emotion than you had originally intended, but you found you couldn’t hold it back.

There was a pause in the conversation then, as you both sat blushing in your seats listening to the thrum of the engine. His thumb began stroking the back of your hand in small circles, and you found yourself relaxing into his touch.

“Would you like to come to my place instead of a bar?” He asked somewhat suddenly. He sounded… nervous. Like he had no idea how you might respond despite the fact that you had given every indication of being romantically interested in him as well. “I mean, that way I’d be able to cook you something. You’re probably starving, right? I know I am…” His words were somewhat rushed, and they faded off at the end as he glanced over at you.

The thought of going home with him had your stomach doing flips and your heart singing in your chest. He was so attractive, and seemingly the perfect gentleman when he was interested in someone, which was something you had always wanted in a partner. And Mina had told you so many times how good of a man he was, despite his gruff demeanor…

So you nodded. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

He let out a nearly imperceptible sigh of relief and resumed stroking the back of your hand, which he had stopped while waiting for your answer. “Alright, it’ll be a few more minutes to get out there since it’s on the far side of my property. In the meantime… Tell me about yourself.”

You told him everything you could think of, about your family, what you were studying, what you hoped to do in the future. And he listened intently, making comments here and there or asking clarifying questions when needed. His attention remained on the road, which had lost its street lights back at the edge of town and was now a dark path cutting through fields of crops. They swayed in the light breeze, and you felt the urge to roll down your window and breathe in the fresh air.

And so you did. You put it down all the way and stuck your hand out into the warm night air, letting it flow between your fingers like water. As you leaned toward it, Bakugou’s grip on your other hand tightened subtly.

“You better not let that hat blow away,” he warned, and you simply smiled over at him and unbuckled your seatbelt. Releasing his hand, you held onto the brim of the hat and leaned out the window. The wind battered you and you could hear nothing else, but the way it felt through your hair and rushing over your skin felt positively divine.

You let out a loud cry of joy into the peace of the country night, atop the backing track of crickets and cicadas and beneath the light of the distant stars. Bakugou simply watched from inside the vehicle, his free hand finding purchase on your hip to stabilize you as you flung your arms out, hat clutched between your fingers. You could almost reach the corn leaves on the side of the road as you rushed past them, and you tried not to get disoriented as the world passed upside down.

As you let out a laugh of happiness, you felt the car slowing and looked in the direction you were headed. Bakugou slowed in order to turn onto a driveway, and you took that as a cue to pull yourself back into the truck, only to find him laughing.

“Your hair’s a fuckin’ mess now, idiot,” he choked out through peals of laughter. Upon inspection in the mirror you flipped down you found he was correct. You giggled at your disheveled appearance and simply placed the hat back on your head to hide it.

“There, all better!” You grinned at him as you felt his hand, which had been situated on your hip, make its way to rest on your thigh.

He simply shook his head as his laughter died down and you approached a house you could now see on a small hill. As he pulled to a stop at the top of the driveway he gave your thigh a soft squeeze and a pat before putting the car in park and hopping out. He made his way around the front and opened your door for you, helping you down until your feet met gravel.

“Welcome to my place,” he said as he led you inside. The parlor was cozy as he turned the lights on and you found that the place smelled of spices and something savory. “I’ve got a brisket slow cooking in the kitchen right now, should be just about ready.” He slipped his boots off and set them near the door, and you followed suit before accompanying him to the kitchen.

“Your house is beautiful, Bakugou,” you said softly as you looked around. It was simply decorated, but the things it did contain were all gorgeous. There were wood carvings that looked to be done by hand, and paintings here and there. It was so homey and domestic, and for some reason you hadn’t expected that from a man like him. But seeing him in the space it made complete sense. He fit into it all perfectly.

“Please, call me Katsuki,” he insisted as he retrieved two wine glasses. “Oh, I guess I should ask what you prefer. Are you a wine or beer drinker? I’ve also got some bourbon, whisky, or gin if you’d like any of those instead.”

“Wine is good, though I will say I’m normally a white drinker,” you smiled as you gestured toward the bottle of red he had out on the counter. He got a look of worry on his face, as if he’d committed some sin by bringing out red wine, and you laughed. “I’m kidding, I love a good red,” you assured him, making your way around the island in the middle of the kitchen.

“Good, dumbass, because I ain’t got any white.” He tried to look nonchalant, but there was relief clear on his face. He deftly opened the bottle and poured two glasses before handing you one. “It’s from the local winery, so hopefully you like it. Cause if you don’t then I’ll have to take it up with Sero since he owns the place.”

As you grinned at his lightly playful tone you tilted the glass to take a sip. It was incredible, the flavor spreading over your tongue and reminding you of autumn nights spent with Mina on the couch retelling stories of how your summers went while getting progressively more wine drunk. “It’s delicious,” you nodded, smiling up at him.

“Good, I’ll let him know he’s got another fan. That guy can always use an ego boost,” he chuckled, taking a sip from his own glass. He then placed it down on the dark marble countertop before making his way over to the slow cooker near the oven and peeking inside. “I’d say this has another 20 minutes before it’s perfect,” he said, mostly to himself.

“So what should we do in the meantime?” There was that tightness again at the thought of having time to kill with just the two of you. It only grew as he slowly turned back to you with a gleam in his eyes, and you distracted yourself by taking another sip of wine.

“Well, I suppose that can be up to you. What would you like to do, little missy?” He stepped back toward you and joined you in drinking from his own glass.

“Now why the need for the nickname?” You tried to sound annoyed with it, but in reality it had you clenching at the sound. “I’m not that little.”

“I beg to differ, you barely come up to my shoulder. I’d say that’s pretty little,” he smirked and patted the top of your head.

“Yeah, well I’ve got a big personality,” you defended, trying to look bigger as you rose slightly onto your toes.

“Ya got a big attitude, I’ll give ya that.” Tilting his head back, he finished off his glass of wine, and you followed suit. “Though I’d love to see how tiny you’d look on bull back. Bet you’d hardly last two seconds.” The grin on his face had your stomach fluttering and your breath shortening at the apparent innuendo behind his words.

He obviously wanted you, and you wanted him. So why were you so hesitant? It’s not like you were a virgin, you’d had several partners in the past, and had even had a few one-night stands. Was it just because of how attractive he was? How intimidating his aura was? All you could think about was having his hands and mouth all over you, having him buried inside you to the hilt and riding him like he rode his bulls. But something was holding you back, and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what it was.

He took a step closer, leaning down to speak right into your ear. “I’d love to see how tiny you look riding me, too,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. There was a growl to his voice that hadn’t been there before, a depth that threatened to pull you under and drown you in him. And you found yourself wanting to dive into his depths, to be pulled under and never come back up for air. But you realized in that moment what was holding you back.

Fear.

Fear of losing yourself. Fear of falling in love with this man, only to leave tomorrow and never see him again. He had a magnetism to him which pulled so strongly on you that you found yourself daydreaming of leaving behind everything you’d worked so hard for to settle down with him. To be his little housewife who stayed at home and took care of the children and sacrificed her own dreams to support him and the family you’d have together

But you wanted a life of your own. Wanted to pursue your passions and make your own dreams come true. You didn’t want to settle for a life in some small town where you could never make something of yourself. You didn’t want to only be known as Bakugou Katsuki’s wife and the mother of his children. You were scared that if you let yourself drown in his depths that you really wouldn’t come back up for air, that you’d sink into the murky waters of obscurity and never be seen again.

But as he took hold of your chin again with that thumb and forefinger to tilt your head back and get your eyes to meet his, you felt more seen than you ever had before. There was a fire inside those carmine eyes that said he wanted to fight the world with you by his side. That he wanted to see you succeed in whatever you wanted to pursue, and hoped you felt the same.

So you took a deep breath and plunged in.

“I think I’d like that,” you whisper, before grabbing the collar of his shirt and tugging him down to meet you as you rose once again on your toes. His lips were just as hot as his hands as they met yours tentatively, but they were soft, and more supple than you had expected. They moved slowly against yours before his tongue peeked out and ran over your bottom lip before you granted him access. His hands came to clasp your waist while yours slid behind his neck, using it as an anchor to keep your knees from buckling.

He eventually turned you so your lower back pressed into the countertop. Then, in one swift motion, his hands slid below your ass and hoisted you up onto the counter. You hadn’t even jumped up to help him, making you realize just how strong the man you were ensnared with really was.

With this new height you were slightly above him, no longer having to worry about his hat bumping into his face. Your fingers delved into his hair, and you groaned into his mouth as he kneaded the fat and muscle of your thighs, between which he had wedged himself. He pulled you closer to the edge so your core was pressed up against his belt buckle, and you squirmed at the feeling of him slowly grinding into you.

Breaking off for air, he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed as he softly panted. “Do I have your permission, little lady?” He spoke in a voice so soft you barely heard it.

“F-for what?” You had never been asked to have sex before, it had always just been implied once the kissing and touching had started. So it took you off guard that he would ask now that things were getting heavier.

“To fuck you, to make love to you, whichever you’d prefer. I just know that I need you, so fucking bad,” his eyes opened to look at you before you nodded, mind in a daze at the courtesy he was portraying. “I need a verbal response, little one. Can’t do with just a nod,” he grinned.

“Oh just fuck me already, you idiot,” you groaned, pulling him back to your lips. He chuckled against them, before slipping his hands back under your thighs.

“Hold on for me, yeah?” He said between kisses. You wrapped your arms and legs securely around his neck and waist, and he slid you off the counter. You assumed he would bring you to the living room where there was a comfortable looking couch. But instead he made his way back through the parlor and up the stairs with you hanging on like a monkey.

“God, so strong,” you murmured against his lips, feeling yourself growing wetter at the idea of his strength.

“Gotta be strong to be a rodeo champion,” he grunted against the skin of your neck. He made his way down a hall and into a bedroom which you assumed was his due to the dark décor and shelves worth of trophies.

He made his way over to the bed and leaned down to lay you atop the comforter. It was soft and you found yourself sighing at the feel of it against your hot skin. He released you with a final kiss, and you let your legs fall from his waist before releasing his neck with one final tug at his blonde locks. He straightened and began to undo his shirt, which had gotten dirt and dust on it from the ring but had remained in good condition. You were glad for that; the colors suited him.

“That the only reason you got strong?” You tried to put a little tease into your tone, but he seemed to see right through it to the need lying beneath as he continued to undo buttons, about two thirds of the way down. You propped yourself up on your elbows, hoping you didn’t look too desperate for hi

“Course not. Got strong so I could help others too,” he replied with a smirk. “I volunteer quite a bit in town and on the local farms when I’m not tending to my own.”

“Uh huh. Any other reasons.”

He undid the final button and pulled the shirt from its place tucked into his jeans. “Are you insinuating that I got strong so I could manhandle you?” A single brow raised sharply as he let the shirt fall from his arms to land in a pile on the ground.

“I’m not not insinuating that…” You were hard pressed to disguise the need bubbling up in your voice as you slowly scooted back up the bed to where the plush pillows lay. “All I’m saying is that it wouldn’t hurt in the bedroom.”

He looked at you questioningly, before unbuttoning his pants and climbing onto the bed above you. “Well then you’re not great at hiding your intentions,” he whispered loudly, as if his words were meant to be a secret, but he wanted to share it with the world.

“Maybe I just don’t want to be good at it. Ever thought about that?” You murmured, even as his fingers brushed against the bare skin of your waist where your shirt had ridden up, sending a shiver through you.

“Then I guess you’d be succeeding.” His voice was a true whisper now as he said the words directly into your ear, before pressing his lips to the soft flesh of your neck. He had situated himself fully between your legs, your knees bent, and feet pressed against the soft material of his comforter.

“Exactly, I’ve got you right where I wanted you.” You tried so valiantly to keep your voice from warbling, but as he kissed down the column of your neck you couldn’t help the sigh that slipped through your open lips.

“Not yet, you don’t,” he tutted against your collarbone. You screwed your brows together and opened your eyes to look down at him as he paused to get your attention. “I’ve got your permission, right little lady?” Something about the tone to his voice had your skin heating up like never before.

“Y-yes,” you stammered, remembering his need for verbal consent.

And with that, he descended.

He had your shirt up and over your head in what was probably record time, your bra following shortly after and leaving you both in nothing but your jeans, underwear, and his explosion-studded leather chaps. Everything was a whirl of touch and tongue and teeth, moans and groans replacing any lingering words either of you may have uttered.

His lips wrapped around one pert nipple, while his fingers tweaked the other one. His free hand worked its way to your jeans button, slowly but deftly undoing it. He looked and sounded like he wanted to devour you right then and there but was waiting for something. The feeling of his tongue against your skin had you moaning, and he chuckled into your skin at the sound. The hand at your waist yanked your zipper down in one swift motion, before he eased his fingers beneath the waistband of your now-undone jeans.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he groaned, his fingers stroking your sex over your lace panties. He wasn’t wrong, you could feel the fabric cling to your folds with arousal as he made quick work of finding your clit.

“Mnh, m-more,” you huffed, grinding your hips into his hand as you searched for increased pressure.

“Now, is that any way to ask for something?” Bakugou tutted from his spot just above you, but his voice was strained with need as well, something he was decent at masking but not immune to.

“Please,” you whined, “just fuck me already.”

He chuckled darkly. “Right idea, but wrong execution. Now you’re just gonna have to wait longer.” And with that, he was gripping the waistband of your jeans with both hands and yanking downward, drawing a yelp from your lips as he rid you of the cumbersome fabric. You raised your hips to help him, not that he needed it much, before plopping unceremoniously back onto the bed.

He grinned down at you before reattaching his mouth to your heated skin. You groaned at the feeling of his lips dusting against the plane of your stomach as he made his way down your body. When he finally reached your panties, you were nearly gasping for breath. You had delved one hand into his surprisingly soft locks, allowing yourself to stroke them like you wanted to stroke a different part of his body, but you weren’t quite there yet.

He slipped his fingers beneath the lace which barely covered you, pulling it down your legs with what could only be considered reverence before tossing them to the ground somewhere behind him. The way he looked at you when you were completely bare before him had you wanting to cover your face as it burned beneath his gaze.

“What a beauty,” he murmured, before kissing the skin just above your core. “Betcha taste even better than you look.”

Then you were being devoured. His tongue quickly found your clit as his breath was hot against your pussy, making you squeal in pleasure. He varied his technique, switching from flat, languid strokes that had you moaning to pointed, quick circles which had your toes curling. When he slipped a finger inside, you nearly lost it. The combination of stimulation and penetration was driving you closer and closer to the edge, and it was driving you crazy.

“K-Katsuki,” you groaned, fingers tightening in his hair as you felt your stomach tightening.

“I know, sweet girl,” he replied, words muffled as he continued to eat you out. He added another finger to keep up the stimulation as his mouth was partially occupied by his words, though they were muffled by your folds which he kept constant contact with, whether through tongue or lips. “You’re doing so good for me. Just a little longer.”

His constant licking and kissing on your clit, and the curling and scissoring of his fingers deep inside you had your thighs coming up to close around his head as your own was thrown back on the pillow. Katsuki moaned loudly against your core at the pressure, sending a new wave of pleasure rushing through you that almost had you bursting at the seams.

Then he did something you weren’t expecting. He ran his top teeth ever so lightly along your heat, stopping just before your clit as you cried out desperately. At the same time, he curled his fingers right against the gushy spot inside you which so few lovers had found before. Perhaps one or two had managed to hit it, but the combination of sensations had you falling apart within seconds.

“F-fuck! Katsuki,” you nearly screamed, tugging on his hair so hard he groaned at the feeling. You came harder than you ever had from oral sex, and he loved every second of it. He lapped up every drop that escaped before pulling his fingers from the sheath of your body. Directly after those same gooey fingers were slipped into his mouth and sucked clean of your essence.

“Damn, you taste divine Y/N,” he sighed, crawling atop you and pressing his lips gently to yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue as it ran along your teeth, strong and earthy and slightly sweet. He wasn’t wrong.

Your chest heaved as your hands came up to unsteadily undo his belt. They fumbled slightly, and he chuckled before standing again to quickly undo both that and the button of his jeans. Pulling them down, he stood before you, unabashed and glorious in his nakedness. His length and girth had you swallowing thickly as you readjusted on his bed, moving back to lay against the pillows.

“You’re staring,” he chuckled, lifting a knee to free his foot from his pants and briefs to place it on the bed near yours.

“Am I not supposed to appreciate what’s in front of me? When you look like that?” You smiled, trying your best not to let your voice quiver with leftover ecstasy and anticipation. Kicking his other foot to free it from the fabric clinging to him, he made his way up the bed, body lithe and solid between your legs as he came to cage you between his muscular arms.

“Then I guess by that logic I’m allowed to stare as well?” His voice was soft and low as he leaned down to press his lips to yours. He threaded his fingers through your hair, which still held the remnants of the wind-swept knots, and you sighed at the feeling. You tried not to lose yourself in the feeling of his rock-hard length coming to rest on your lower stomach, but your hips reflexively lifted slightly off the bed to grind against it.

“Patience,” he murmured against your mouth, his hand slowly making its way down from your hair along the curves of your naked body to rest on your hip, which he eased back down onto the comforter. “Let me treat you right.”

His words had you tightening once more. The idea that such a gentleman had taken an interest in you, and after so little time together, had you nearly vibrating with need. The hand which held you down gave your hip one more squeeze before coming to grip himself. The low grunt that slipped from his lips had your stomach doing flips before he eased the tip into your folds.

He ground his length through the slick which had gathered there, taking his time to make sure he was fully coated in order to ensure not only his own enjoyment but yours as well. So many of your lovers in the past hadn’t been considerate enough to do that, hadn’t taken into consideration your pleasure and only focusing on their own, that the action made your heart ache with desire.

Once he slipped through your heat with no resistance, he lifted his face from where it rested against your neck to look at you. “Are you ready?”

Your voice caught in your throat as desire and passion threatened to choke you. All you could manage was a nod and a wordless, desperate moan. Thankfully, he was losing himself to desire as well and took that as permission to continue, because you didn’t think you would have been able to form a coherent response in that moment even if he had demanded it.

Nodding, he placed his free hand on your inner thigh to spread your legs slightly farther apart. Looking down at the spot where the two of you met, he guided his cock to your entrance and slowly pushed inside. The sound you released was one of pure ecstasy, and he followed suit with a groan that had your toes curling. He moved carefully, pausing as he was halfway inside to not only give you a moment to adjust, but to give himself a chance to take a deep breath before continuing. The feel of your tight walls constricting around his fat cock and the way you looked and sounded beneath him nearly had him coming undone, and he couldn’t look bad in front of you now.

“Shit, so tight princess,” he muttered through gritted teeth. His brows were drawn together in a look of pleasure so attractive it had your core tightening even further as he resumed his plunge into your core. The breathy moans and soft mewls of pleasure spilling from your lips had him even more eager to really start pounding into you, but he had to fully submerge himself first. Leaning back, he looked at the way you sucked him in, and he used the fingers that were previously wrapped around his cock to come draw tight circles around your clit.

“F-Fuck, Kats,” you moaned sweetly, eyes unable to keep from screwing shut as he bottomed out, pelvis resting soundly against you as you wriggled your hips experimentally against his. The feeling of his pubic hair against your sensitive core, along with his calloused thumb directly against your clit had one of your hands coming to grasp his forearm while the other tangled in the sheets by your head.

“That feel good, little one?” Katsuki’s voice was slightly strained as he pulled out slightly and pushed back in. You couldn’t stop the almost pitiful sound that slipped from your throat as you nodded vigorously. He chuckled shortly, seeming to have a hard time getting out coherent thoughts himself. “Can I move a little more?”

“P-Please,” you begged, needing more: more movement, more stimulation, more friction. More of him.

“Then hold on, ‘kay?” He came to situate himself above you once more, leaning on one elbow as his thumb remained glued to your clit. Your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers threading through his hair, before he began to move.

It was slow at first, almost gentle, as he tested to see how far he could go. Each time he increased the speed or pressure with which he moved, you craved more, cried out louder. It was a gradual increase, but soon his headboard was banging against the wall and your tits were bouncing and the wet slaps of his balls against your ass were accompanied by cries of pleasure that spilled freely from your lips. His teeth sank into the flesh of your neck as he groaned, the sound vibrating through his chest which was pressed against your own.

“Katsuki!” His name fell like a prayer from your lips as you neared your climax once again, and the sound of it had him following suit. But he’d forgotten a condom, forgotten to use protection in the heat of the moment with someone he’d met only that day. So, he’d hold out. He wouldn’t ruin this moment by making you worry. He would make this perfect.

His years of training and fit physique came in handy not only for the rodeo, but, as you’d insinuated, for lovemaking as well. He used those powerful thighs to drill into you, those muscular arms to not only hold himself up but to bring your chest up to his as well, the arch of your back making him hit even deeper than before. Your moans and cries had only grown louder and more explicit as he continued, and soon he had you falling apart beneath him.

“Fuck!” You couldn’t hold back a scream as the coil which had grown so infinitely tight within you snapped, and you came harder than you ever had before. Tears slipped from the corners of your eyes as your vision went white, and your breath stilled in your chest, trapped by your constricted throat as Katsuki fucked you through the best orgasm of your life.

He grew quiet above you, and as your vision returned, you saw he had his eyes trained on you with more focus than ever before, all while his jaw clenched so hard you worried for his teeth. He pulled out, collapsing on his back beside you as his erection stood tall and flushed against his stomach.

“W-What are you doing?” You asked with a shaking voice, trying to catch your breath as you turned onto your side.

“Fuckin’ forgot a condom,” he forced through those tightly gritted teeth, before taking his length in his hand and starting to pump it.

“So?” You raised yourself onto one elbow to look down at him.

“I can’t ruin this by making you worry about that,” he admonished, breath growing even shorter as he closed his eyes forcefully.

“I never said you should stop, Katsuki.”

He froze at that, eyes flying open as he looked at you in surprise. The words had spilled from your lips before you could stop them, taking you off guard as well, but you didn’t make any move to take them back. You eased your fingers around his length, replacing his own calloused ones before shifting above him, thighs coming to straddle his own.

“Y-You said you wanted to see how I’d look riding you, right?” Your voice was soft, but excited. His hands hesitantly came to grip your waist as you lifted yourself to hover over his cock. “Then why don’t I show you.”

With that, you lowered yourself onto him. He slipped inside, aided by your creamy release which still coated your insides and the apex of your thighs. You couldn’t help the sigh that fell from your lips as you came to sit atop his thighs, and the groan that he released had you tightening for the third time that night, much to your surprise. You were lucky to get even one orgasm with your past lovers, much less two. Three? That had never happened before. But you were eager to see if this god of a man could make it happen.

“Dammit, Y/N,” he muttered, his hips thrusting up into yours as his grip on your hips tightened. “Think ya might kill me at this rate.”

“Well, you can’t do that,” you huffed, moving atop him as you placed one hand on his stomach to steady yourself. It was solid, a wall of muscle which had you clenching around him at the feel. “You’ve got a championship to win.”

He chuckled beneath you, the sound choked and breathless as you ground down into him. “And you’ll-” He broke off with a moan that had you grinning above him. “You’ll be there, right? Need my g-good luck charm, after all.”

“You gonna get me front row seats?” Your over sensitive cunt squelched as your chest heaved. This man was really about to get you to cum three times in a fucking row, wasn’t he?

“Darling, I’ll get you pit tickets if you want ‘em. Y-You can watch from the damn sidelines if you’ll just be there.” One of his hands made its way up your side to come and cup your breast, thumb circling your pebbled nipple as the other hand gripped your hip so hard you were almost sure it would leave finger-shaped bruises.

“F-Fuck!” You cried as he thrust particularly hard, nearing his climax as you leaned down to kiss him fervently. Your thighs burned and your breath came in shallow pants as you neared your own end, falling over the edge as he gave one final push upward, hips pressing up off the bed as he came hot and hard in your soft, warm insides. You fell apart moments later, hardly anything left within you but cries of pleasure and a clenching core that had him pumping you full of more release than he’d ever given before.

It felt right, like you’d found a piece that you hadn’t even known was missing. As you collapsed atop his heaving chest, buried your face in his neck, let your fingers trail over his skin and through his now damp hair, you felt more at peace than you ever had. As his hands soothed over the areas he had gripped so tightly, as his lips pressed feather-light kisses along your hairline, he realized that maybe he really had found his good luck charm.

Maybe that hat was just meant to bring the two of you together all along.

#cel writes #cel sobs #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #cowboy bakugou #bakugou smut #soft bakugou

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wingedcat13 · 7 days

Text

Siren Call: 3

[We’ve had past and present Minerva, but what about future?]

One day, Minerva will be familiar with the island’s crags and shelves. She’ll know the way the shore slope becomes a drop off and where the sandbars are, the color and density of all the coral, the migratory patterns of the species who pass by.

Today, she knows enough to avoid triggering the sensors. Even pauses to adjust one that’s started sagging out of place.

Minerva chooses not to walk up the beach, not wanting to track sand into the - house? Facility? Building? - not wanting to get sand caked to her feet and legs. Jumping straight up to the roof in a waterspout is also unnecessarily dramatic when there isn’t a fight to get to. So she just gathers herself, waits for a wave, and urges it a little higher, placing herself at its apex.

It gets her high enough that she can reach the railing of the overlooking balcony, with enough momentum to curl and tuck her body, cartwheeling over the rail partially just for the joy of motion. Even the smooth tiles feel rough compared to the water, strangely unyielding, and she wobbles just a little as she catches her bearings. Belatedly, she realizes she almost kicked the crap out of one of the balcony’s chairs. The little swerve she does is automatic. At least there wasn’t an audience-

“Minerva.” Says Synovus, sitting on the table because they’re deranged. There’s a surprised tilt to the end of her name, like half a question answering itself. They’re wearing civilian clothes again, and some part of Minerva’s mind can’t help noting that their arms are bare. “Welcome - back.”

One day, Minerva won’t scowl at them on reflex.

Today, she demands immediately, “Were you waiting for me?”

“Y-es?” Synovus hedges, not moving. “But also no? I was - I thought you’d be coming up from the shore.”

They sound almost abashed. But that’s too close to ‘embarrassed’ and Minerva is well aware that Synovus has no shame. She may have genuinely surprised them - they’re perched on the edge of the table, and had leaned away slightly. Synovus wanting to be a problem would have chosen a much more… blatant posture. Or at least to sit further back in the shadows. The absence of either a gaudy attention grabber or deliberate stealth indicated this middle ground was not an act. Or perhaps that’s what she’s meant to think.

One day, Minerva will not have to consciously pick aside the paranoia to see what is in front of her.

Today, it takes effort - but she does it.

With a sigh, she closes her eyes, and focuses on each part of her body, bringing herself down from the mild surge of adrenaline. One hand draws back the wet strands of her hair. The other removes the mask that was a gift. She leaves her eyes closed while she rubs the red marks out of her skin.

With her eyes closed, it’s easier to skip past the defensive retort, and say instead, “You could’ve at least had a coffee waiting for me.”

“I don’t actually know your preferences in that regard.” Synovus admits, and for a heartbeat Minerva is worried this will turn into a far too blunt conversation about homecomings, but - “Do you take it black? Iced? Green?”

Minerva scoffs, but it might have just been a laugh. Even she’s not sure. “White chocolate mocha.” She answers. “One shot espresso, oat milk.”

“Ah,” Synovus says, as Minerva opens her eyes. They seem to have had a revelation. “So that’s why Alexandria likes those Unicorn frappes so much. Hm. And here I usually go for the cider.”

A smile tugs at one corner of her mouth at the thought - Synovus, dread assassin, going to a coffee shop and ordering hot apple juice with whipped cream.

Minerva sets her mask on the table. “Stand up a minute.” She tells Synovus quietly, her voice nearly lost in the sound of the waves below.

“I don’t take direction well.” Synovus replies, even as they slide off the table and to their feet, turning to face her. There’s a caution to their movements, but also curiosity, written far more liberally across the unobscured face Minerva once never thought to see.

If Minerva meets their eyes too long, she’ll lose her nerve, so she winds up staring somewhere around Synovus’s collarbone instead. There’s a scar there, hidden for now by a high-necked top, and Minerva knows that because she put it there. It had been a targeted move: Synovus had broken her collarbone the fight before.

She wants to be better at giving back things other than pain.

“Just - give me a moment. Don’t move, please.” She’s pretty sure it’s the ‘please’ that gets them. Synovus goes so statue-still that Minerva’s not sure they’re blinking. But they don’t protest. And they certainly don’t move as Minerva steps forward.

And in one of the most awkward movements of her life, slides her arms around Synovus’s ribcage, setting her chin gently on their shoulder.

This is instantly easier when she no longer has to look at Synovus’s face. Well. When she can’t look. Can’t fixate on finding and parsing the smallest of expressions, assigning meaning to the specific tilt of a chin or speed of a blink. She’s still bad at it - hugging - because she usually just lets other people hug her, and initiating it is weird, but she can’t imagine Synovus is particularly good at it either.

After all, they’re still standing stock-still, and if Minerva wasn’t currently very aware of their breathing, she might even think they were panicking.

“Not a trap.” She mutters, and feels as much as hears Synovus’s responding huff. But their arms slowly, cautiously, hesitantly come up to return the embrace, hands resting lightly on her back. The side of Synovus’s head tips gently into hers.

One day, Minerva might not feel awkward about body contact and physical affection. One day, she may find herself as familiar with Synovus’s scars as she is her own. And she just might reach a point, eventually, where one of them could make a joke about this just being an excuse to get Synovus wet and not immediately both perish from the agony of an accidental allusion to arousal.

For today, this awkward embrace is enough.

———————————————————

Minerva probably won’t ever see a crowd as something other than a threat to be monitored.

Large groups have always made her tense, and that instinct had only gotten worse over the years. Most villains respect the ad hoc agreement about making an entrance, but there are a distinct few who would kill from a crowd. And there are those who are not villains in the distinct, identity sense, but would wreak havoc nonetheless.

So she scans the mall’s sheltered internal colonnade from behind her sunglasses, and listens to her daughter tell her about her day.

“- I just told him that I’d come from further South, and he didn’t ask me any more questions after that, but then freaking Brad asked me if I was an ‘illegal’ and I know what you mean now, about temptation to cram people into lockers. He’s lucky he’s so tall; I couldn’t fold him up to fit without taking some limbs off.”

Alexandria huffs, taking an aggressive pull from her milkshake. The stress of her life is getting to her - no teenager should have worry lines, or bags under their eyes that deep - but she insists this is what she wants. Even if Minerva sometimes wonders whether Alexandria sees herself as a member of the school’s attendees, or just a spectator who sometimes catches a stray ball.

“Did you tell Brad that?” Minerva asks mildly, mostly curious.

Alexandria sighs again, “No.” She says sullenly, shoulders slumping. “I asked him if he thought the government should determine who gets to live where, and then when he started to argue with me I told him I hoped his yacht sank with him on it.”

“Alexandria.” Minerva was still learning to find the right tone. The right amount of reproach, without exasperation or accusation. She must’ve gotten close, because Alexandria just lifts one hand in a ‘not me’ gesture.

“Specifically so he’d wash up in Mexico or Hawaii and get to be illegal himself.” She clarifies. “I don’t think that convinced anyone I wasn’t an immigrant, though. Til Seanna pointed out my grades in Spanish would probably be better.”

Minerva’s sigh is more restrained, but she points out, “There are other languages in South America. Brazilian Portuguese, for example.”

She’s not sure why she’s entertaining this, really.

“That’s true.” Alexandria ponders that for a moment, drinking more of her milkshake. “I mostly just meant to imply I was from one of the towns that got fu- uhhhh, screwed up by the power grabs.”

Minerva briefly leaves the conversation, remembering that shell of a place. The layouts, the dressings of a town, not quite abandoned yet but with nothing else to bleed.

Judging by the nudge she receives under the table, Alexandria isn’t totally oblivious to her distraction. She’s also changed the subject.

“So.” Alexandria is saying, drawing one syllable into three, “How are you and my godparent getting along?”

‘Godparent’ has become Alexandria’s favored way of referring to Synovus in public. It’s a joke on multiple levels, some of which Synovus seems to appreciate. But Minerva thinks it also makes them slightly uncomfortable, in a way they refuse to express to Alexandria.

“It’s fine.” Minerva replies, on rote. Her eyes flick to Alexandria, then back to the crowds. “What is it?”

“What do you mean, ‘what is it,’?”

“You wouldn’t have asked if you didn’t want something in particular.”

Alexandria’s mouth twists down, “Can I just get an answer without fishing for it, for once?”

Startled, Minerva looks at her again. Takes a better assessment of her daughter’s body language, the tension there. She knows she’s also gone tense.

Anger creeps into Alexandria’s voice, replacing the annoyance. “I’m not going to lose control. I’m not-“

She cuts herself off, abruptly looking away. Her fingers relax around the plastic cup, deliberately demonstrating that her strength won’t get away from her.

Minerva has a suspicion of how that sentence might have ended. I’m not like you and dad.

Reaching out physically feels like the wrong move here. So does stiffening up further and refusing to talk about it. Be better, she thinks to herself desperately, her mind flicking back to an image of a person with one foot in the water, one on dry land.

“We still… disagree, on some things. Some major things.” Minerva makes herself say. She still doesn’t like that Synovus kills people. She doesn’t like that Synovus has ostensibly killed for her, or for Alexandria. But she also feels relief that Synovus did, and a sense of gratitude she can’t quite smother. It makes her feel dirty, oily, and she hasn’t found it’s root.

Taking a breath, Minerva continues, “But… I don’t think they mean either of us harm.”

Alexandria has relaxed a little, absorbed by what Minerva’s saying. And probably having to pick through it for what she isn’t saying either.

“Would you say that you, I don’t know, maybe, trust them?” Alexandria prompts.

Minerva’s grimace is answer enough.

Alexandria sighs, “Mom.”

“It’s complicated, Alexandria.” She says, but it’s not the abrupt conversation-closer it would have once been. More… beseeching.

“Do you trust anyone?” Alexandria asks, “And like, I don’t even really mean me, here, but like. Anyone?”

Minerva remains silent.

“Do you trust yourself?” Alexandria asks, sounding a little alarmed.

Minerva hesitates - but she can’t really answer that one either.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, just the background roar of the mall’s crowds between them. Minerva hates this. She hates feeling like she can’t actually control herself, can’t master the emotional impulses she’s forcibly crammed into a box for years. She hates that Alexandria is having to pick up the conversation, make the overtures, do the work.

But any time she tries to think of a way to do it herself, her mind shies away from it. The words wilt and die in her throat. Because what if she gets it wrong?

What if she has more to lose?

Eventually, Alexandria looks at the melted remnants of her milkshake, and asks, “Can we stop at the Hot Topic before we leave.”

One day.

———————————

A week later, Rosie pokes her head into the common room Minerva’s reading in. “Minerva?”

She’d finally been asked point blank by one of them what she wanted to be called, because Athena no longer seemed accurate. Committing to Naiad hadn’t felt right either, so she’d given up her civilian name. Synovus already knew it, what was the point?

(It had occurred to her, later, that the small thrill she felt at being addressed by it was possibly what Alexandria felt at being addressed by her chosen name.)

(Also, it would’ve made Albion furious.)

“What is it?” Minerva asks now, letting one finger hold her place in the book as she sits up.

“There’s a fight drifting our way - Zephyr and a few others against the Eye. He’s made another floating platform again.” Rosie rolled her eyes, providing her professional opinion.

Minerva tilted her head, hesitating. Zephyr was a hero she’d worked with before, though they had never gotten along. He’d offered to take her flying, she’d taken that as flirting and shut it down, they’d never really overcome the resulting awkwardness. She had no idea who he’d be working with.

Eye, in contrast, was Eye in the Sky - a villain obsessed mostly with surveillance, and not being observed himself. He was a center point of several conspiracy theories involving the NRA, CIA, and a number of international organizations. She’d never fought him before, just heard the stories.

“What’s the protocol?” Minerva asks, rather than offer any of that information. She was certain this group of people knew far more about everyone involved anyway.

Rosie smiles, “Not much of one, just a lower alert status. Doll and I will make the rounds and check on everyone, Synovus is going to suit up just in case, but we won’t get involved unless territory agreements are breached.” She added, “Alexandria’s still on the mainland, we’ve made sure she knows to be suited if she makes her own way home.”

Minerva taps at the cover of her book, thinking. She feels adrift, still. This isn’t an actual fight, unless she wants to go and be Athena, and the idea of that is physically uncomfortable. It would also invite too many questions. Naiad would-

Hm. “Does Synovus want me in uniform?” She asks, sardonic.

“I didn’t ask and don’t plan to.” Rosie replies flippantly. “If they want you to do something, I imagine you’ll hear about it directly.”

Somehow, that isn’t the response she wants. “I don’t-“

“They also haven’t given any orders that you’re to be stopped.” Rosie points out, cutting her off. “The rest of us will be either in the operations room or up on the roof to watch. Klaxon if there’s trouble.”

She gave Minerva another smile, twiddled her fingers, and withdrew. Minerva shifted, and opened her book again.

She made it through two more paragraphs, then left it unceremoniously on the floor.

———————————-

On the roof, Synovus was pacing.

In a way, that’s reassuring, because even Minerva knew by now that if there was imminent danger, Synovus would be stock-still. The sun glints off the dark helmet, and threw the matte black of the rest of the suit into stark relief against the sandy-colored rooftop. Wind off the sea ripples through the cape, keeping it blown back, perpendicular to the path Synovus is walking.

The sun is kinder to Minerva’s costume, and there is no cape to blow. The dark mask helps keep her from being blinded by the sun. Athena wouldn’t be of much use here; Naiad might be.

Doll - the larger, Russian man who Minerva thought of as Synovus’s second in command - stood up here too, a viewfinder raised to cover his face. He’s looking into the direction of the wind, angled out and up, and Minerva follows that direction.

There it is - flashes of distant, shimmering silver in a cloud bank that’s thinning. Some masking device, most likely, now disabled. There’s tiny flashes of what must be powers or weaponry at use, but she can’t make out more than that.

“How bad is it?” She asks anyway, brisk and businesslike.

“The wind isn’t in our favor.” Doll comments. He’s always answered her as if she’s a coworker, and she appreciates that. “I can’t tell how much of it is powered and how much of it drifts. If there’s been damage to it -“ He lowers the viewfinder to make a hand gesture. “It might not be able to control its direction anymore.”

“Sloppy.” The comment is out of Minerva’s mouth before she can stop it. It draws Doll’s attention, if not Synovus’s. At the slightly raised eyebrow, she sighs and continues, “Disabling propulsion or navigation creates unnecessary risk to everyone involved. The only time it becomes necessary is when there’s weaponry that absolutely must be disabled, and you don’t have either the training or the time to sort out different power systems.”

Doll nods, offering her the viewfinder. “It could be self-inflicted,” he points out.

“Possible, but suicidal. That would require an exit strategy. Do you think Eye has one?”

“He’ll have three, only two of them will work, and none of them will be enough to keep him from getting captured.” Synovus breaks into the conversation abruptly, annoyed. Or perhaps professionally offended. “They’ll be personal craft.”

Meaning the rest of the platform’s crew would be left to die. Incentive for the heroes to try and rescue them rather than pursue, but what a waste.

The viewfinder lets Minerva get a better sense of the platform’s size, and also an estimate of its height and distance. She can make out a glimpse of a gray-shaded costume, diving through the clouds: Zephyr.

“If you interfere,” She asks, while her view is disconnected from her surroundings, “What would that look like?”

There’s a hesitation. A gust of wind snaps at Synovus’s cape. The distant battle continues.

“If they cross the boundaries, there must be consequences.” Synovus says reluctantly. “I will destroy the platform. Survivors will become my prisoners. If the heroes protest, I’ll fight them.”

Minerva lowers the viewfinder, and returns it to Doll. Synovus has stopped pacing. “You don’t have the facilities for a mass casualty event.”

“No.” Synovus agrees. “I don’t.”

————————————

Rosie has come out to join them on the roof by the time there’s significant change. The wind has died down some - likely a marker of Zephyr changing it, finally reaching their shores. The air feels thick and dead without it.

They’ve mostly stood in silence, watching. It feels longer than it has been, and Minerva knows it’ll be worse for those actually fighting. She’s surprised she hasn’t felt more of an urge to intervene.

Though she has been keeping watch for anyone falling to the water below.

It’s hard to say which of them notices first - their attention is collectively on the sky platform, and not each other. But there’s a decided tilt to the mostly-exposed metal monstrosity now, and in very short order, it begins to fall.

“Catch it.” Minerva finds herself murmuring. “Catch it. At least slow it-“

But no one does.

The platform hits the water at the full speed gained from a several thousand foot drop, slamming into the ocean. Those watching know that the metal will crumple on impact, water at that height and velocity worse than slamming into concrete. The surface area only makes it worse; tilted in at a slight angle, it displaces the water in a specific direction.

Towards the island.

Minerva had studied the ocean as much as she could. She knows this phenomena, and can cite times in the past it’s occurred. Not caused by the shifting of the ocean floor or tectonic plates, but by a sudden mass displacement.

They call it a super-tsunami.

Synovus is a statue beside her from the moment the platform starts to fall. Doll catches on once the surface of the water rises - and then doesn’t fall again.

“Three minutes.” Minerva calculates, based on distance and the probable speed of the wave. As many miles to cross. Much taller. “Evacuation?”

“The Jet is under repair, we can’t get it into the air in time.” Rosie answers, grim.

“Seals on the inner portions of the facility might hold, but we don’t know how long we’d be underwater.” Doll says, hitting the klaxon anyway. “The fridges?”

“Only as good as long as the power lasts.” Rosie replies. “Alexandria?”

“Still on the mainland.” Doll growls, running a hand through his hair. “Even if she could reach us in time, we’d have to get everyone onto the plane-“

Synovus has, so far, said nothing. Minerva is the only one close enough to catch when they choke out a strangled, “-fucking submarine -“

Minerva had expected Synovus to have a plan. A power, a strength, a defense mechanism. The realization that they don’t is like a fire’s been lit at the base of her spine.

She doesn’t remember grabbing Synovus’s collar, or dragging them to face her. She does remember saying, “I can stop it.”

Synovus doesn’t hesitate. “What do you need?”

There is no questioning of if she’s sure, or recommendation that she go into the waves to ride it out. No suggestion of running.

“Get me in front of it.”

Immediately, Synovus has one arm under her knees, the other around her shoulders, and they’re running. Off the edge of the roof, not quite flying, flickers of shadow beneath their feet. Minerva doesn’t have time to question it, because her attention is on the big damn wave.

When she had said she could stop it, she had spoken with a bone-deep certainty. But she’d never actually tried to divert a tsunami before, let alone one of this size. The largest amount of water she’s worked with has always been as much as she needs to accomplish her goal, and nothing more. Diverting some rain-induced flooding is nothing compared to the power of the tides.

But she can feel the ocean beneath them, as Synovus clears the island’s coast. She can sense the oncoming wave, so fast to them, but to the ocean like a flinch in slow motion. The ocean doesn’t know how to control a fall.

But Minerva does.

The trick is in grasping the majority of the wave without over extending. She doesn’t need every droplet, every molecule, but she does need the vast majority of them.

It’s like trying to get a grip on something flat with only the pads of her fingers. It’s like misjudging a stair and finding herself both plummeting and ramming into an outside force. It’s like taking the first breath of rain-rich air in the early morning, and feeling life enter her lungs again.

Minerva twists the top back over itself, breaking the wave in the wrong direction. She cuts it down the middle, diverting it off to the sides. She forbids it to go forward, as though it’s met a cliff. And as the water falls, the wave collapsing, so does she.

It takes a brief second to put together that the body that had been holding her aloft is now limp, twisted slightly as though to put itself between her and the wave. Synovus is unresponsive, the shadows gone, only the cape whipping around them as they fall. Minerva is able to catch them, now, grabbing on before they can drift away.

She reaches for the water below them, calling it up to catch them with less than bone-breaking force. It’s easier, somehow, but also harder, and she’s having trouble fixing a direction in her mind for where the wave was and where the shore should be. Hot air, harsh wind, cool water and the dimming depths as they’re both drawn down.

And she remembers, finally, that Synovus can’t swim.

—————

The disorientation has mostly worn off by the time Synovus wakes up.

Minerva had managed to follow the upset currents, but hadn’t wanted to risk trying to shape and change them. Or to fight them overmuch, with her cargo. So they’d wound up washed not to shore, but to a small opening into one of the partial lava tubes at the island’s base.

Outside, saltwater rain is still falling, though it will stop soon. The ocean’s roar sounds, to her ears, slightly confused. The sun is still shining, and the wind has picked up again. ‘Calm’ is a subjective definition, but they’re approaching it.

Minerva had been relieved to find that Synovus’s helmet was intact, even with the impact to the water. She’d managed to find its clasps, and to remove it, making sure the seals had also held and that Synovus wasn’t drowning in their own personal fishbowl. They’re propped up against her legs, which are folded beneath her, and she’s prepared for a violent awakening.

But Synovus’s eyes blink open, and Minerva is able to watch their facial muscles work as they come to terms with their surroundings.

“You fainted.” Minerva informs them.

Synovus squints at her, but doesn’t immediately protest. They also don’t try to move much, other than a slight squirm that Minerva recognizes as a full body check. Do I still have my appendages? Do my fingers and toes all work?

“Yeah.” Synovus concedes. Their voice is raspy with saltwater, even though they didn’t get much of a chance to drown. This time.

Minerva should probably start somewhere else - like making certain they’re okay, or assuring them about the conditions outside, that the wave had been averted. Instead, she all but demands, “If you’re so terrified of water, why in the hells did you build on an island?”

She can see the balk in Synovus’s expression: a furrowing of their brow, a twitch of the nose. Synovus lifts a hand to consider covering their face, eyes the sand on their glove, and lowers it again.

“I already know you can’t swim.” Minerva says flatly.

“I can swim.” Synovus shoots back, annoyed. “I cannot swim well, there’s a difference.”

They sigh, and move to sit up. Minerva doesn’t stop them. She doesn’t expect an answer, at least not without further prompting, but Synovus continues:

“It’s… easier. The isolation. Clearly defined borders. This is mine, everyone else fuck off. And it…” Synovus shakes their head. “It serves its purpose.”

Once, Minerva would’ve accused them of grandstanding. Of the island being a show of wealth and status. She knows better now - knows that while that is true, there’s other reasons, layered beneath.

And she thinks about everything Synovus has ever told her about self control.

“It contains you.”

Synovus hesitates, partially grimacing, but nods. “Serves its purpose.” They repeat quietly.

The two of them sit in silence, in the dark shadow of the cave. They listen to the water, and the waves as they return to normal.

“Thank you.” Synovus says, into the silence.

“I don’t require thanks.”

“But I feel you deserve it, and it’s mine to give.”

“And if I don’t want it?”

“Refuse it. I will survive the disappointment.”

Minerva has the uncomfortable feeling that they are not discussing only gratitude. Rather than address that, or continue the discussion, she says instead: “I don’t know what I believe anymore.”

Synovus doesn’t reply. They tilt their head, studying her in the dark. Minerva’s dragged them into a cave and confronted them with truths after they passed out from fear doing something on her word, she should give them a break. She doesn’t.

“I should be out there looking for survivors, or recovering the dead. I don’t want to. I should’ve involved myself in the fight, reminded them to be careful of the platform’s vulnerabilities. I didn’t. I don’t feel guilt. I feel… annoyed. Angry. Because they should’ve known better.”

Synovus just turns a bit, to rest their back against a rock. “And that in turn makes you feel..?”

“Foolish. Arrogant. A bad hero, and a worse teacher. I should be patient. Forgiving.”

“They nearly killed you.” Synovus points out dryly. “You’re allowed to be angry about that.”

“And more would’ve died if the wave had reached the coast.” Minerva grits her teeth. “But that anger should be - I can’t control them. I cannot fix them. But I didn’t even try to intervene until it was almost too late.”

“But you did intervene.”

Minerva gestures, attempts to pinpoint the logic fruitless and frustrated. “Am I a hero or not?” She demands. “Do I act for others or only my own skin? I’ve spent years - decades - so sure of the answer but now -“

She raises her hands, half-fisting them in her hair. The sensation provides a little bit of grounding, enough of a distraction she doesn’t think about the words before she says them. “- now you make sense to me, and the things I thought I believed in enough to die for are - are hollow or gone or dead. And I let you kill them. I let you kill him.”

Abruptly, she draws her knees up, burying her face in them. “I let - I made - my child - our child -“

Minerva can’t tell if she’s crying or not. Her breath is coming in gasps, and her face feels hot, and this was always the part of weeping that she hated the most; the lack of control, the inability to communicate. Her eyes burn. So does the center of her chest, her stomach.

And Synovus is here, as her witness. Why not? They’ve seen every other ugly part of her, every other failure. She’s spent a good portion of her adult life fighting this person, exchanging scars, only for them to pick up the pieces and try to protect her. She’s finally had the upper hand, proven that she does have power, that Synovus now owes her in the brutal calculus of lives, and instead of reassuring her it’s broken her.

Because Synovus doesn’t trust themself either.

But Synovus trusts her.

“Do you wish I wouldn’t have killed Albion?” Synovus asks quietly.

The answer is as simple and certain as the water. “No.” She says honestly. “No I - I don’t.”

There’s a pause. Then, “Do you wish I would’ve killed you too?”

That answer isn’t as clear to find. “I - some days.” She says hoarsely. “I committed the same crimes.”

Synovus exhales, across from her, and it isn’t quite a sigh. “Alexandria feels differently.”

Minerva stops breathing.

Of all the answers Synovus could’ve given, that’s the one she can’t counter. She can’t afford to do this. To wallow in self recrimination. Her daughter is out there. And while maybe - maybe her morals are falling to pieces, and she doesn’t know who she is, but she knows that whoever she is loves Alexandria.

“Is it pathetic?” She asks Synovus, in the dark she can’t see through and Synovus can. “To need someone else to determine who I am. What I believe.”

She can hear the twist in Synovus’s expression as they reply, “That’s… inherently not a question I can answer. But, Minerva?” Synovus doesn’t hesitate, so much as pick their way across uncertain footing, “I don’t think you would’ve been able to turn back that wave if you weren’t… as much as you are.”

It’s clumsily phrased. Wavering and uncertain. But Minerva, whether because she’s reading what she wants to from it, or because it’s actually Synovus’s intention, understands.

She takes a deep breath. Then another. Then she stands, and offers a hand in Synovus’s general direction. Her voice is much more certain, calm, when she says, “I need to go organize a search party.”

——————

Minerva may not ever come to terms with her role in her ex-husband’s death, or the harm she caused her daughter. She might not ever find the rock-solid beliefs that she once thought she had.

But she might - just might - come to terms with that uncertainty. The ocean doesn’t have roots either.

She’ll have good days and bad days. She’ll need to make decisions about who she wants to become, and how she feels about who she is. But as both Naiad, and Minerva, she has that freedom.

She’ll never touch the Athena costume again.

And one day, while she’s working on a laptop in one of the common rooms, Synovus on one of the other couches and Alexandria sprawled on the floor, Minerva will say, “I have an idea. Something I’d like to do about the Pacific garbage patch.”

And Alexandria will roll over to look at her, and Synovus will glance up. And Minerva will add, “It’s not precisely legal.”

And Synovus will say, “I’m listening.”

——————————

[And so ends Siren Call! This took much longer than it’s other pieces, and there were things I debated including and things I wanted to cut, but in the end, this was the flow the story took. I’m not saying I’m *done* with Synovus and co, but I will say that I’m glad to have this chapter closed and tied off.]

[As per usual, a copy of this will go up on Ao3 soon, and I’ll find out how long it is, because I’ve once again written directly into tumblr drafts. It’s where the Synovus muse lives, apparently.]

#synoverse #synovus #siren call #siren call 3 #tw: tsunami #as someone whose stress dreams manifest as dreams about tsunamis #HOO BOY did I not like writing that scene much #but it was what needed to happen #and I’m happy with how it turned out #dont @ me about the physics I will not be studying any more about those damn things #it’s magic I ain’t gotta explain shit

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joshhutchersonsgf · 5 days

Text

I NEED MIKE SCHMIDT TO DEGRADE ME (a smut)

mike’s new job was simple. he only has to worry about two things. all he has to do was keep the place tidy and keep people out.

he hated himself for losing his old job as a security gaurd at the mall because, despite not enjoying have to be in a loud, public space all the time, he grew fond of the people there.

he liked jeremiah. he didn’t get on his nerves the way most people do. talking to him kept him from getting lost in his thoughts, which he liked.

he also grew fond of cindy, the girl who works at the ice cream shop. sand he didn’t want to think of telling any she wouldn’t be able to get ice cream that much anymore, if at all.

mike sighs as he realizes he was trapped in his thoughts again. his mind was something that always kept him entertained for hours, but it also left a lingering pain in his chest when he thinks about what he could have done differently.

mike opens the door of his old, rusty car and stares at the pizzeria across the parking lot. this dump used to be a place for kids to hang out? mike wonders what the old building looked like before it shut down. he imagines he and garrett would have went there when they were kids, or maybe if it was still open to this day, he would have taken abby. he smiles at the thought of abby enjoying the arcade.

mike walks up to the double doors and glances around. he quickly found the security pad and types in the numbers raglan had told him.

a loud click came from the door when he clicks the green button on the security pad. he steps to his left and grabs one of the hands on the metal door, pulling it open.

the door creaks loudly as mike opens the door. he wishes more than anything he could turn around and get in his car, go home and forget any of this ever happened. but deep down he knew he had to do this for abby.

mike steps inside the mostly-unoccupied place and frowns. the room smells stale, and he can practically see the dust in the air. it was a creepy place, and mike wonders what the point is of watching a place no one has been inside in over 20 years.

mike didn’t see a point to a security job here, but he was thankful raglan was kind enough to give him the job. he didn’t like the man, but he was thankful he saw enough potential in him.

mike hears a loud slam from behind him and almost jumps out of his black sneakers.

“what the hell?” mike whisper-shouts, completely caught off gaurd.

mike turns around to see the door he left open now shut. must be an automatic door, mike thinks. he feels silly for getting so scared.

mike looks up at the posters on the walls, torn and scratched along the thin paper. the words read out “freddy fazbear’s pizzeria” at the top.

mike crosses the lobby and looks down the hallway in front of him. the hallway walls are painted in the same red-and-white stripes mike had seen in the lobby. they are also lined with large posters.

these posters, however, weren't pizzeria advertisements. they look like children’s art, similar to abby’s. some of the posters have images of pizzas and playing children. the rest of the posters feature portraits of odd-looking cartoon animals. one of the images was of a brown bear wearing a bow tie and a top hat. there was a bright yellow chick wearing a bib and holding a googly-eyed cupcake, a bluish-purple bunny gripping an electric guitar, and a fox wearing an eye patch and a hook on his hand.

“i should probably just find the office”, mike whispers to himself after examining the drawings. mike speed walks through the hallway and briefly looks around the main area, studying the purple curtained stage. he assumes that’s where people in costumes would perform, and he doesn’t dwell on the thought any longer.

mike continues through the eery building until he reaches a door he assumes leads to the office. mike sighs in relief as he lays his hands on the metal doorknob, thankful he was able to find it with ease.

mike turns the handle and pushes the door open, heart beating in his chest. the door creaks, much like the front door to the building, and he tenses up more than usual.

the office was dark, only dimly lit by a red bulb above a large breaker box. his senses are overwhelmed with the smell of sweat and blood.

mike’s nose twitches as he looks around the small office space. he decides he might as well get used to the smell and familiarize himself with the space, since he was going to be spending a lot of time in it.

the office was pretty vacant for the most part. it contains a long, narrow metal desk, which sat in front of a matching credenza. a small black fan and a landline phone next to an answering machine sat on it, as well as an old tv sitting on top of an equally old vcr, a desktop computer, and several cctv monitors, stacked on a rack at the back edge of the desk. two gray metal filing cabinets were pushed against the wall opposite the desk.

mike tries to ignore the feeling of anxiety that doesn’t seem to move from his stomach while he studies the room. he doesn’t like the long claw marks on the floor, they made him feel no better than the smell.

mike sighs and sits down in the old office chair, not surprised by it’s discomfort. he looks at the vhs tape in front of him titled “mike” and cocks an eyebrow.

it was going to be a long night, he thought to himself.

♡•♡•♡

the first hour of the night was pretty boring. occasionally, mike would flip through the cameras and scan the place, but for the most part, he just stayed in the office and watched the cameras.

mike glances at the clock on the wall in front of him and frowns.

“1:38” the clock reads.

“four more hours of this bullshit” mike groans, flipping through the cameras once more.

something caught his eye this time, though. in the main room, there was something moving under the tables. mike’s eyes almost pop out of his head when he notices.

mike brings his face closer to the computer and squints his eyes. as if the thing was mocking him, the movement stops.

“what the hell?” mike whispers, fully accepting he will be subconsciously talking to himself to fill the emptiness of the air.

mike gets up from the chair slowly and contemplates if he should find out what it is.

it’s probably nothing, mike thinks, but the thought that it could be something there, waiting to attack him, was keeping him still. mike feels silly for freaking himself out with children’s fantasies.

reluctantly, he grabs the flashlight and turns the knob on the door. when he steps into the hallway, the atmosphere seems to have shifted since an hour earlier, as now the earlier unoccupied area felt like someone is watching him.

mike grips the flashlight tightly and turns it on, surprised it works as well as it does. he slowly steps out of the hallway and into the main room, examining every detail of the disheveled place.

he checks under every table and finds nothing, relieved that nothing is there to get him. he continues searching though, making sure nothing is hiding.

he hears shuffling from behind him and practically jumps out of his skin. he spins around and flashes the light in the direction of the noise, seeing a figure scurry behind a trash bin.

mike‘s entire body is screaming at him to run out the front door and drive away, but of course, his curiosity got the best of him.

mike takes a small step forward and grips the flashlight tightly, a thin sheen of sweat covering his palm. he takes a few steps forward until he is only a few feet away from the trash bin and lets out a shaky breath.

“hello?” mike blurts out subconsciously. he slaps a hand over his mouth and fights his body’s urge to run. the thing shifts slightly, and mike hears some rustling.

if it is a killer, mike thinks to himself, now they know where i am.

he decides that he should just try to see what it is and hope it’s not someone (or something) trying to kill him.

mike creeps up to the trash can and pushes it to the side quickly, then jumping back before anything can attack him. instead, he’s met with the silhouette of a person with dark clothes on.

mikes eyebrows furrow at the sight in front of him, and he rubs his eyes quickly to make sure he’s not hallucinating. behind the trash can, you sit crouched over with your arms over your face, hand covering your mouth.

you wish more than anything that you could make a run for it, but you knew you wouldn’t get very far, considering you’ve already been running only moments earlier. so instead, you try to stay as still as possible, hand over your mouth, hoping that the security gaurd will mistake you for a shadow.

“i’m not stupid, you know,” a hoarse voice addresses you, “i can see you.

you tense up and try to think of any possible way to get out of here, despite the guard being three feet away from you. you move your hand away from your mouth and you chew at your bottom lip, taking a deep breath through your nose.

you finally accept defeat and lift your head up slowly. your open your eyes to be blinded by a bright light in your face and you cover your eyes in agony.

“can you get that shit out of my face, please?” you ask sarcastically, standing up and rubbing your eyes.

the security guard takes the light and points it at the ground, careful not to blind you.

“who the fuck are you and why are you here?” the man curses.

you take your hands away from your face and let your eyes adjust to the new light, examining the man in front of you.

you expect to see a gross old man, but instead you’re met with an attractive, young looking guy. you assume he’s in his late twenties, considering he still has childish features. his messy hair falls against his forehead and curls at the ends. his eyebrows form a crease against his forehead due to his eyebrows being pushed together in annoyance. if it weren’t for the circumstances you were in, you would have thought he was cute.

the man seems to be wondering what your next move is, because his big brown eyes won’t leave yours. you frown when you realize there’s no way to get out of this.

“i didn’t think anyone would be here,” you mutter, “this place is a dump.”

“tell me about it,” the man breathes out, “but that doesn’t explain why you’re here, does it?”

you try to think of any way you could lie your way out of this, but your mind draws a blank. you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, deep in thought. you wish more than anything you could just crawl in a corner and die.

“i was trying to hide from the cops..” you whisper, looking at the ground.

“what?” the man questions, cocking an eyebrow.

“i was trying to hide from the cops.” you repeat, avoiding his gaze.

you look back up at the man to see him staring at you with an annoyed expression, tongue pressed against his cheek.

“what the hell did you do?” the man asks.

“please don’t call the police,” you plead and stand up while moving back against the wall, away from the man.

“why?” he questions and steps closer to you, “scared i’m going to do what i get paid to do?”

you frown when you hear his question, slowly regretting every decision you’ve ever made.

“look, im sorry okay..” you breathe out, looking at the floor, “i just really needed some money.”

the man does nothing. you look back up to see him already staring at you, face contorted into what you assume is anger. it’s hard to see him very well in the dark, but you see the man opens his mouth, then closes it again.

“are you going to tell the police?” you ask, scared you made the wrong decision of telling him the truth.

the guards eyebrows unfurrow for a moment, and you think he’ll actually let you go. then, he gives you the same expression he gave you earlier, only worse.

“you think i wanted this job?” he asks.

“huh?” you blurt out, his question completely catching you off guard.

“do you think i wanted this job?” he says again, looking around the dark room.

you follow his gaze and take a good look around the place as he shines the flashlight around the room. you didn’t even think to look at where you were going when you came inside, the only thing on your mind was not being found. suddenly, you feel a weird feeling in your stomach. maybe you shouldn’t have come here.

“no..” you whisper, staring at the half opened curtain on the stage.

“exactly,” the guard spits, “but i need money.”

a feeling of shame sits in the pit of your stomach when the guard speaks, and you wanted to cry. you look back to the man again and frown, wishing he would show you some sympathy.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, tears swelling at the brink of your eyelids.

you feel so ashamed right now, standing against the wall while a guard questions you while your eyes are moments away from spilling tears.

“sorry?” the man scoffs and grabs your arm, “sorry you got caught?”

you gasp and try to pull your arm away, but he only grips your skin tighter. he pulls you away from the wall and drags you through the room, despite you trying to break free from his grasp.

“what are you doing?” you cry out, following behind him while he holds you tightly.

the man doesn’t answer, instead pulling you through the hallway until you’re both standing face infront of a large, metal door.

“shit like this makes my job a whole lot harder,” the man groans, pushing open the door. a loud creak echoes through the hallway.

you examine the room through blurry vision. the office was pretty empty for the most part, besides the filing cabinets and desk with computers on them. you try to look for any way to escape before the police arrive. you look for a window, but all you see is a small vent across the room.

“why did you bring me here?” you ask the guard, fully expecting him to dial 911 on the phone that sits on the desk.

“well, i figured that if you don’t want me to call the police like i’m supposed to,” the man starts, letting go of your arm, “i’m sure you could just do my job for me?”

you furrow your eyebrows and frown at the man. you look back to the desk that sits at the end of the room and sigh. on the desk, you see a vhs tape that has “mike” scribbled on the side of it. you figure that is the man’s name. it fits him, you think.

“you want me to sit here and watch the security cameras?”

“that’s what i said, right?” the guard you assume is named mike mocks.

the way he was talking to you made you feel stupid, but you couldn’t help but feel turned on. you felt so ashamed for feeling the way you do about the security guard.

you stare blankly at mike while he awaits your answer that never comes as your mind rushes with thoughts of him doing all kinds of things to you. you felt like a horny teenager all over again.

“i asked you a question.” mike spits, getting obviously more annoyed with you, “what, you can’t think straight?”

you shake your head aggressively and frown, “i’m sorry, i’ll do it.”

mike smirks and grips your arm once more. he pulls you over to the chair but before you can sit down, he stops.

“what are you doing?” he asks, acting completely oblivious.

“um.. i was about to sit down?” you retort.

“aw, but,” he cocks an eyebrow, “this is my seat.”

“where am i supposed to sit?” you ask, confused.

mike sits down on the chair and pulls you by your arm until you’re right in front of him.

“why don’t you sit right here, hm?” he proposes, signaling your gaze to his lap.

you practically choke on your own spit at his words. did this hot man seriously just ask you to sit on his lap?

“what?” you sputter out, thinking you just heard him wrong.

mike smirks at you and pulls at your arm slightly, making you sit on his lap.

“how about this?” mike whispers against the shell of your ear.

oh. my. god. you weren’t sure if you were in heaven or hell. while you thought it was amazing that the hot security guard asked you to sit on his lap, you were also terrified of making any wrong move, incase he decided he was going to call the police.

you aren’t sure where to put your shaking hands, so you just decide to let them rest on your legs. you shift your body against his lap a few times, trying to get comfortable.

“jesus,” mike moans, “are you that fucking desperate?”

“what?” you ask, and your eyebrows furrow when you feel something hard against your ass. assuming it’s just the flashlight, you reach back to grab it from mike’s pocket. but when he throws his head back and lets out a moan, your hand quickly moves away and claps over your mouth.

“oh my god,” you mutter against your hand, barely audible. “i am.. so sorry.”

mike laughs and the sound sends a chill down your spine, “i’m not stupid, you know?”

before you can say anything, all the words you wanted to say fell from your tongue as mike runs his hands down your body. he lets his hands settle on your waist and you try not to scream. you felt so turned on that you thought you could explode. you try to focus on the cameras like you’re supposed to, but your mind kept running with thoughts of the man who’s lap you’re sitting on. his hard on pressing against the curve of your ass doesn’t make the situation any better, and you wish he could just fuck you already.

you subconsciously grind your hips down against mike’s, swallowing back a moan when he grunts in your ear, “don’t start something you can’t finish.”

you grind your hips down again as an answer and turn back to him, smiling. you find him already staring at you with eyes filled of lust and need, and for a moment, you feel scared. you felt so vulnerable with him, despite only not knowing him for long.

mike pushes you up off of his lap and stands up, pushing his bulge against your ass. your hips are pushed against the desk harshly and you were sure there would be bruises the next morning, but you didn’t care. you couldn’t focus on anything but how much you love the way he is manhandling you right now.

mike brings his head to the side of your neck and kisses harshly, leaving red marks that are soon to turn purple as the night goes on. you moan out when he finds your sweet spot against your collarbone and you rut your hips back against his harshly, begging for friction.

“god,” mike groans against your skin, pulling at your pants, “need to get this shit off of you.”

as mike slowly pulls your pants down, you throw your back in ecstasy.

“please..” you whine, desperate to have his dick inside of you.

“huh? please what?” mike’s hoarse voice whispers, dragging his tongue along your neck.

“please fuck me already.” you cry out, reaching your hands behind your back to grip his jeans and pull them.

“fuckkkk..” mike groans when your hand grazes over his bulge.

mike replaces your hands with his own and pulls his pants down to his thighs, his dick uncomfortably straining in his boxers. mike hooks his fingers on your underwear and pulls them down to your ankles, now with your pants. you step out of your clothes and kick them to the side, discarding them in the corner of the room.

mike tugs at the ends of your shirt to let you know he wants it off, and as quickly as you raise your hands up, he pulls it over your head and latches his lips on yours. it’s kind of hard to kiss him due to your position in front of him, but you have no reason to complain.

his kisses are vulnerable and animalistic, and you have a hard time keeping up. he forces his tongue inside of your mouth and groans when his tongue touches yours, swirling his around your mouth.

the kiss is desperate, how his tongue tangles with yours. it’s filth filled with the pathetic, insanity of lust you both feel for each other.

you know how badly he wants to fuck you. you can tell by the way his mouth is on yours. you pull away from his lips and look at him, examining his beautiful appearance. his impatience is clear with his clenched jaw, one of his hands traveling up and down your body as his free hand pulls his boxers down to let his cock free. it springs about against his stomach and he gasps at the feeling of the cool air in the room hitting it.

you crane your neck back to see the tip of his dick leaking with precum and you gasp. he is big. a feeling of anxiety mixed with excitement suddenly washes over you when you see his dick.

“what’s wrong, sweetheart? scared it won’t fit?” he smirks, voice lingering with a sarcastic tone.

you whine at his condescending words and reach your hand back to jerk him off, but he stops you. he clicks his tongue and pursues his lips, then whispers, “just watch the cameras, yeah? i can do all the work.”

you frown when you remember the whole reason he brought you in here was to do his job, but if it meant he would finally fuck you, you really didn’t mind. you turn your head back to the cameras and sigh, doing your best to make mike happy.

when you feel the tip of mike’s cock against your hole, you clap a hand over your mouth and moan against your palm.

“you don’t— have to be quiet,” he grunts, slowly pushing his tip into you, “it’s just us here.”

you take your hand away from your mouth and moan loudly, bracing your hands against the end of the desk for stability.

“so.. fucking tight.” mike moans against your ear.

you whine loudly at the feeling of his cock perfectly stretching you out, despite only the tip being in. your mouth falls open in a silence cry as he pushes into you slowly, trying not to hurt you.

“you can take it,” he murmurs, “you can take all of it.”

his cock stretches your tight walls, filling every inch of you up with his thickness. his calloused hands grip your hips tightly, and his fingernails leave crescent moon shaped marks on your skin.

he gives you a moment to adjust to his size, but when you clench around him, he continues moving until he’s all the way inside.

“holy shit..” you gasp, feeling so full and stuffed with his cock inside of you.

nothing comes out of you but incoherent blabbering when he pushes his cock as deep as it will go, and mike stares at you in complete awe.

“shh.. it’s okay.” mike coos against your ear, "just keep your eyes on the cameras. can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

you nod your head aggressively and stare at the computers through hooded eyes that threaten to squeeze shut. you writhe against him, tears already falling and staining your cheeks as your legs tremble.

your hole grips mike perfectly, feeling every vein and sucking every last drop of pre cum out of him. after letting you adjust for a while, he starts a slow, steady pace. the feeling of his thick cock moving out of you slowly makes you burn with desire.

mike pulls his dick all the way out of you, leaving you empty and vulnerable. you turn around and whine, but the whine quickly turns into a high pitched moan when he pushes himself back inside of you. you felt like you were being split in half by his thickness.

he pulls out of you completely then pushes himself back in slowly a few more times before starting a steady pace. your legs shake as you grip the desk tightly, trying to stabilize yourself.

“already fucked out?” mike utters, thrusting his cock deeper into you. he lets go of your hip with one hand and firmly wraps his arm around your throat, using it as leverage to fuck into you harder.

the raspiness in mike’s voice sent pleasure coursing through your entire body, making you lose yourself in the moment.

noticing that your head is dropping a bit, mike uses his other hand to hold your head up to the screens. mike takes a moment to study your features, lit up by the light of the many monitors.

the room fills with the sounds of your moans and cries, along with mikes soft groans he occasionally let slip. the sound of skin slapping against skin causes your mouth to fall open in a choked sob as his dick continues to abuse the spongy spot inside of you.

mike presses his face into the crook of your neck and bites softly at the marked skin, admiring the work he left earlier. he leans in and kisses the corner of your chewed lips before whispering, "you feel—shit, you feel so fucking good."

you let out a strangled noise at his words, blabbering on about how you want his cum deep inside of you.

“yeah? wanna be stuffed full of my cum, hm?” mike purrs against your lips, bringing his hand down to wipe the tears that stain your cheeks.

you clench around him and moan loudly, rutting your hips back against his while trying to match his rhythm. a feeling of pain mixed with pleasure shoots through you when he begins to thrust into you at a brutal pace, and your legs tremble harshly.

“fuckkk..” mike grunts, “use your words, sweetheart.”

you open your mouth and try to speak, but the only thing that falls from your lips is whimpers and whines as he continues to pump himself into you.

“what’s that?” mike taunts, “i can’t hear you.”

you didn’t have to look at him to know that he’s smirking. the way his words linger in the air with a condescending tone makes you feel stupid. you weren’t sure if he was trying to make you feel dumb on purpose, but you would never admit that it only made you more turned on.

“please!” you cry out, eyes rolling back into your head. you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and chew on the sensitive skin there.

mike moans and continues to pound into you, making sure you are watching the screens closely. mike curses under his breath, tightening his grip on you as he fucks into your tight hole.

“jesus— fuck..” you choke out through moans, “i’m gonna cum..”

mike slams his thickness into you harshly, making sure your hole remembers every last detail of his cock.

“yeah? what— fuck, what makes you think you deserve to cum?” mike asks, cutting himself off with a moan.

“please let me cum!” you sob, entire body shaking for your release.

your hole constricts around his cock as you cry out, legs quivering as the knot in your stomach threatens to snap at any moment.

“god, you’re such a fucking whore,” mike keens, “getting fucked.. shit, by a guy you barely know in a security office? it’s— mhmm.. its pathetic.”

mike pulls away from your neck and looks down, admiring the way your hole swallows his thickness. he almost cums immediately when he sees the way your ass ripples with each pulverizing thrust into you.

“mmmnf, please.. please let me cum—!” you moan, squeezing tightly around his cock. the sound of you begging causes his dick to twitch inside of you, hitting that spongy spot inside of you perfectly. you arch your back against him, swallowing every inch of his cock with your hole.

mike fucks into you relentlessly, spurred on by the sounds of gorgeous moans falling from your lips. he’s eager to feel how hard you finish around him, and just the thought has him biting back moans.

“want you to make a mess for me, baby.” he rasps out, his voice beginning to break and waver as he climbs a mountain of his own bliss. “want you to let go and— holy shit, and cum with me. please.”

“i’m gonna— mhmmmm..” his words of approval are enough to send you over the edge, and you finally feel the knot inside of your stomach snap. waves of pleasure wash over you as you cum, your body completely going limp.

mike squeezes every inch of your body, using you like a fucktoy to chase his own high. “’m cumming.. shit.” he moans, thrusts becoming stronger as he fucks his cum deep into you.

mike cries out when he cums, overstimulating your hole as you milk every last drop. his orgasm causes him to topple over into his own bliss, hips stuttering as he lets out high pitched moans.

his cum floods through your ruined walls, and he fucks it further into you until he physically can’t anymore.

his body stumbles forward when he pulls out, watching his sperm drip from your filthy hole. your body is sandwiched between his and the desk while you try to catch your breath, legs shaking involuntarily.

as you both come down from your highs, the room feels like it’s spinning. mike gets off of you and sits back in the chair, pulling you by your hips to sit with him.

“jesus christ,” he breathes, completely fucked out, “that was amazing.”

“thank you..” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut.

“hey,” mike says, shaking you awake, “you still have to watch the security cameras.”

220 notes · View notes

pearlesscentt · 7 months

Text

love in the little things : svt hip-hop unit

── alternatively: the times when actions whisper softly, but the love speaks volumes.

svt (hiphop unit) x reader, established relationship, fluff , 642 words

vocal unit | performance unit

꒰ 🫧 ꒱ — there's a sense of calmness that SEUNGCHEOL feels when he drives around with you right by his side. whether it's the daily commute to work or a night out with your friends, he insists on being the one to take you there. "i find peace in it," he said one time when you asked him about it.

and sure, the experience of driving beside him is a joy in its own right, but what tugs at your heartstrings the most is his steadfast commitment to punctuality. you had mentioned to him once how being made to wait on your own makes you anxious; he understood this unease, that's why he never lets you experience that anxiety. it washes you with relief and comfort to see him patiently waiting for you when you get out the door.

for more of this, check out open road promises.

꒰ 🫧 ꒱ — like the pitter-patter of the raindrops, it became a pattern on countless occasions already. it was instinct for WONWOO that every time it rained; he would subtly shift the umbrella he was holding up for the both you, so that you would get more than enough shade to keep you dry.

whether it was a drizzle or a downpour, he would position the umbrella at an angle just to give you more shelter. every now and then, he would even steal glances at you to make sure you were comfortable, without a care for the rain-soaked shirt clinging to his arm. it was a gesture he never talked about and never seem to have to think twice about — his tiny habit that means so much to you.

in the midst of the rain, wonwoo never fails to wrap you up in the most beautiful kind of warmth.

꒰ 🫧 ꒱ — with his wholehearted belief that what's his is yours, MINGYU loves to give you the best bites of every food he eats. initially, you thought it was just a simple act of sharing, which was already sweet in itself. yet, during a cozy movie night at his place, the realization hit as you both were enjoying a bag of gummy bears. it dawned on you that he had been actively avoiding your favorite colors, making sure that you had them all to yourself.

since that moment, you grew more aware of it: the cheesiest slice of pizza, the fudgiest corner of a brownie, the juiciest chicken drumsticks, the scoop of ice cream with the largest chunk of cookie dough, and the portion of the corn dog with the perfect cheese-to-dough ratio, among many others. his smile that radiates joy and fulfillment every time he does it — a wordless testament to his love for you.

꒰ 🫧 ꒱ — you smiled as soon as you saw VERNON's name flash on your phone screen. though you never know what to expect, it was a familiar occurrence in your day-to-day — his penchant for sending you the most random texts in the most random times throughout the day.

"look what i just saw that reminded me of you!" one of them read, it was then followed by a picture of puddle in the shape of a heart. this has become a delightful routine that never ceases to make your heart jump every time you feel your phone vibrate, notifying you of a new message. but it doesn't stop with images of heart-shaped objects; he sends factoids ("did you know that honey never spoils?"), casual updates of what he's up to ("babe i spilled water on myself and now i look like i peed my pants"), little reminders for you ("don't forget to eat today okay?"), and your favorite of all, his tiny confessions of love ("i love you and i can't wait to see you later!").

the spontaneity of it is what you loved about it. the thought that during arbitrary moments in his day, his thoughts are filled with you.

svt masterlist | navigation ── reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated !

#svt #svt imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #svt x reader #svt scenarios #svt headcanons #svt fluff #scoups x reader #wonwoo x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #vernon x reader #scoups imagines #wonwoo imagines #vernon imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff

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estapa-edwards · 13 days

Text

I MISS YOU, IM SORRY PT 2 - J. HUGHES

paring: Jack Hughes x fem! reader

word count: 3.7k

requested? yes -i NEED a pt 2 to i miss you, im sorry! 🤍

warnings: use of y/n.

pt. 1

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

As I stared at the glowing screen of my phone, Jack's message seemed to jump out at me, stirring a flurry of conflicting emotions within. It had been a few weeks since we last spoke, and despite my efforts to move on, his presence still lingered in the corners of my mind like an echo that refused to fade.

"I miss you."

Those three simple words carried a weight that threatened to pull me back into the depths of nostalgia, where memories of our time together danced in the shadows of my thoughts. I never knew I could miss somebody this much, I reflected, feeling the ache in my chest intensify with each passing moment.

A few weeks ago, I stumbled upon a photo on social media – Jack with his new girlfriend. She bore a striking resemblance to me, with her long dark hair and piercing blue eyes. It was as if he had found a replacement for me, someone who could fill the void I had left behind.

At first, the discovery had filled me with a strange mixture of jealousy and resentment. How could he move on so quickly, as if I had never meant anything to him? But as I scrolled through their pictures, I realized that perhaps it was for the best. He deserved to be happy, even if it meant finding happiness with someone else.

And so, I made the difficult decision to keep my distance, to refrain from responding to his message. It wasn't out of spite or malice, but out of a sense of self-preservation. I couldn't bear to reopen old wounds, to subject myself to the pain of seeing him move on with someone else.

Despite my resolve to keep my distance from Jack, there was one connection I couldn't sever – my friendship with his brother, Luke. We had formed a bond that transcended the complexities of Jack's love life, spending countless hours together sharing stories, laughter, and the occasional pint of ice cream.

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Despite living under the same roof, Jack's presence in our shared space had dwindled in recent weeks. His busy schedule and newfound relationship kept him away more often than not, leaving Luke and me to our own devices. It was during these moments of solitude that I found solace in Luke's company, grateful for his unwavering support and understanding.

As the days turned into weeks, my visits to Luke's room became a regular occurrence – a sanctuary where I could escape the chaos of my own thoughts and find solace in the familiar warmth of his company. We would spend hours talking about everything and nothing, laughing at inside jokes and sharing stories from our past.

But no matter how much I tried to bury my feelings for Jack, there were moments when his absence weighed heavily on my heart. Sometimes, in the midst of our conversations, I would catch myself drifting off, lost in a sea of memories that threatened to pull me under.

It was during one of these moments that Luke caught me staring off into the distance, a concerned expression etched upon his features.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern.

I forced a smile, pushing aside the ache in my chest as I nodded in response. "Yeah, just lost in thought."

But Luke wasn't convinced, his piercing gaze seeing through the façade I had erected around myself. He knew me better than anyone, could sense when something was weighing on my mind.

"Is it Jack?" he ventured, his words hanging in the air between us like an unspoken truth.

I hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. But in the end, I knew I couldn't keep it bottled up inside any longer – not from Luke, my confidant and closest friend.

"Yeah," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I miss him."

There was a sadness in Luke's eyes as he reached out and squeezed my hand in silent understanding. He knew all too well the pain of unrequited love, the ache of longing for someone who was just out of reach.

"I know it's hard," he murmured, his voice filled with empathy. "But you're stronger than you think, Y/N. And no matter what happens, I'll always be here for you."

His words brought a sense of comfort, a reminder that I wasn't alone in my struggles. With Luke by my side, I felt as though I could weather any storm, no matter how fierce.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

I was just about to leave Luke's room one afternoon when I heard the sound of footsteps approaching from down the hall. Before I could react, the door swung open, revealing Jack standing in the doorway, a surprised expression on his face.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice tentative. "I didn't realize you were here."

I felt a pang of discomfort at the sight of him, memories of our past rushing back to the surface with a vengeance. It was as if time stood still in that moment, the weight of our shared history pressing down upon us like a heavy blanket.

"I was just leaving," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

There was an awkward tension in the air as I gathered my things and made my way towards the door, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere that surrounded us. But before I could make my escape, Jack spoke up, his voice filled with uncertainty.

"Y/N, wait," he called out, his words stopping me in my tracks.

I turned to face him, my heart pounding in my chest as I braced myself for whatever was to come.

As Jack's words hung in the air, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. The anticipation that had built up inside me came crashing down like a wave, leaving behind a sense of emptiness that threatened to consume me whole.

"Actually, never mind."

With those three simple words, he shattered the fragile hope that had flickered to life within me, leaving nothing but a hollow ache in their wake. I stood there in stunned silence, unable to comprehend the sudden shift in our interaction.

Before I could gather my thoughts or muster a response, Jack turned on his heel and disappeared into his room, leaving me standing alone in the hallway, my heart heavy with disappointment and regret.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I struggled to make sense of what had just happened. Had I imagined the connection between us, the unspoken bond that had once held us together? Or had he simply grown tired of playing games, choosing to retreat behind the walls he had built around himself?

I wanted to scream, to lash out at him for the pain he had caused me with his thoughtless words. But deep down, I knew that it wouldn't change anything – that the distance between us was a chasm too wide to bridge, no matter how much I longed for things to be different.

With a heavy sigh, I turned away from his door and made my way down the hallway, each step echoing the rhythm of my broken heart. It was a painful reminder of the harsh realities of love – that sometimes, no matter how much we wish for things to work out, the universe has other plans in store for us.

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No matter how hard I tried to avoid Jack, it seemed like fate had other plans in store for us. No matter where I turned, he was there – a constant presence in my life, a reminder of the love we had shared and the pain we had endured.

It felt as though the universe was playing a cruel joke on me, taunting me with his presence at every turn. Whether it was bumping into him in the hallway, catching a glimpse of him across the crowded room, or hearing his laughter echoing through the walls of our shared home, there was no escaping the inevitable.

Each encounter served as a painful reminder of what could have been, dredging up memories of happier times and igniting the embers of longing that still smoldered within me. No matter how much time had passed, the wounds he had left behind remained raw and tender, refusing to heal in his absence.

And yet, despite the pain it caused me, there was a part of me that couldn't help but be drawn to him – to the warmth of his smile, the kindness in his eyes, the way he made me feel alive with just a simple touch.

But I knew that giving in to those feelings would only lead to more heartache in the end. I had made a promise to myself to move on, to let go of the past and embrace the possibilities of the future. And even though it was difficult, I knew that I had to stay true to myself, no matter how tempting the allure of Jack's presence may be.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

I stood in the kitchen, lost in the comforting routine of chopping vegetables and stirring simmering pots on the stove. The rhythmic clatter of knives against cutting boards filled the air, a soothing melody that helped to drown out the noise of my thoughts.

But just as I was beginning to lose myself in the familiar motions of cooking, a sharp knock on the door shattered the illusion of calm, jolting me back to reality with a start.

My heart skipped a beat as I glanced towards the entrance, a sense of apprehension knotting in the pit of my stomach. It couldn't be, I told myself, my mind racing with a million possibilities.

With cautious steps, I made my way towards the door, each footfall echoing the rapid rhythm of my heartbeat. As I reached out to grasp the doorknob, a sense of dread washed over me, the weight of uncertainty pressing down upon my shoulders like a heavy burden.

And then, with a trembling hand, I swung the door open – and there he stood, Jack, his presence filling the doorway like a looming shadow against the fading light of dusk.

For a moment, neither of us spoke, the silence stretching between us like a taut wire. His eyes searched mine, a mixture of emotions swirling within their depths – regret, longing, and something else, something I couldn't quite name.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice soft and tentative. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me as I struggled to find my voice. "No, not at all," I managed to reply, my words coming out in a breathless whisper.

There was a tension in the air, palpable and charged with unspoken emotion. It was as if time stood still in that moment, the world narrowing down to just the two of us, suspended in a fragile bubble of uncertainty.

And then, without a word, Jack stepped forward, closing the distance between us in a single stride. His presence enveloped me like a warm embrace, his scent familiar and intoxicating all at once.

"I've missed you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "More than you'll ever know."

His words hung in the air between us, heavy with unspoken implications. I couldn't deny the surge of conflicting emotions that washed over me at his confession. Part of me wanted to believe him, to hold onto the hope that our connection was still strong despite the obstacles that stood in our way.

But another part of me couldn't ignore the bitter reality of his words – he had a girlfriend. The thought stung like a fresh wound, reopening the scars of heartache that had barely begun to heal.

"Did you actually miss me, because you had a girlfriend?" I asked, my voice tinged with a mixture of hurt and disbelief.

There was a flicker of guilt in Jack's eyes as he met my gaze, a silent admission of the truth I already knew deep down. "I did," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it wasn't the same. She's not you, Y/N."

His words cut through me like a knife, reopening old wounds and igniting a firestorm of emotions within me. How could he expect me to believe him, to trust in his feelings when he had chosen to be with someone else?

"I don't know if I can do this, Jack," I confessed, my voice trembling with emotion. "I can't be just another option, waiting for you to decide if I'm worth choosing."

Jack's words hung in the air between us, a fragile bridge spanning the chasm of uncertainty that had grown between us. His confession stirred a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within me, tearing at the walls I had built around my heart in an effort to protect myself from further pain.

"You know how much you mean to me. The whole time I was with her, I wished it was you instead."

His words echoed in the depths of my soul, resonating with a truth that I couldn't deny. Despite the hurt and betrayal I felt, there was a part of me that longed to believe him, to cling to the hope that our love was still worth fighting for.

But the wounds he had inflicted ran deep, leaving scars that would forever mar the landscape of our relationship. Could I truly trust him again, knowing that he had chosen someone else over me?

"I want to believe you, Jack," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I don't know if I can. Trust isn't something that can be easily regained."

There was a heaviness in the air as we stood there, caught in the gravity of our shared pain and regret. For a moment, it felt as though time stood still, the world narrowing down to just the two of us, suspended in a fragile bubble of uncertainty.

And then, without a word, Jack reached out and took my hand in his, his touch gentle yet filled with a quiet determination.

"I understand," he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "But please, just give me a chance to make things right. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust."

Tears glistened in my eyes as I listened to Jack's plea, his words reaching deep into the recesses of my heart. Despite the pain and uncertainty that still lingered between us, there was a part of me that wanted to believe him – to believe that we could find a way to heal the wounds of the past and move forward together.

But as much as I yearned for reconciliation, I knew that I couldn't ignore the doubts and fears that gnawed at the edges of my resolve. Trust wasn't something that could be easily regained, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to take that leap of faith just yet.

"I appreciate your honesty, Jack," I replied, my voice steady despite the storm raging within me. "But I think we need some time apart – time to figure things out on our own."

There was a flicker of disappointment in Jack's eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the reality of our situation. He knew as well as I did that our relationship couldn't be repaired overnight, that it would take time and effort on both of our parts to rebuild what had been broken.

"I understand," he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "But please, just know that I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

I nodded, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "And I'll always be here for you too, Jack. But for now, let's just focus on being friends."

There was a sense of relief that washed over me as I spoke those words, a weight lifting from my shoulders as I embraced the possibility of a new beginning. It wouldn't be easy, and there were sure to be challenges ahead, but I knew that as long as we had each other, we could weather any storm that came our way.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

In the weeks that followed our heart-to-heart conversation, Jack and I embarked on a journey of rediscovery – one that would test the boundaries of our friendship and pave the way for a new chapter in our lives.

With each passing day, we grew closer, our bond strengthened by shared laughter, heartfelt conversations, and moments of quiet companionship. We spent hours exploring the city together, revisiting old haunts and discovering new ones, each adventure bringing us one step closer to understanding ourselves and each other.

There were moments when the pain of the past threatened to resurface, old wounds reopening with a raw intensity that left us both reeling. But instead of turning away from each other, we leaned in – offering comfort, support, and a shoulder to lean on when the weight of the world became too much to bear.

Slowly but surely, the walls we had built around ourselves began to crumble, revealing the vulnerable hearts that lay beneath. We shared our hopes and dreams, our fears and insecurities, laying bare the pieces of ourselves that we had long kept hidden from the world.

And in those moments of vulnerability, we found strength – strength in each other, in the unspoken understanding that bound us together, and in the knowledge that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, as friends.

As the days turned into weeks, I found myself grateful for the opportunity to rebuild our friendship from the ground up, to forge a connection that was deeper and more meaningful than anything we had ever shared before.

Amidst the hustle and bustle of our daily lives, there were moments when Jack and I found ourselves drawn together by an invisible force – moments of quiet intimacy that left us both breathless with the realization of just how deeply we had come to care for each other.

It was in the small gestures – a lingering touch, a shared glance, a smile that spoke volumes – that our bond grew stronger, weaving a tapestry of connection that defied explanation.

One evening, as we sat side by side on the couch, engrossed in a movie marathon, I felt Jack's hand brush against mine, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through my veins. It was a simple touch, yet it spoke volumes – a silent reassurance that we were in this together, no matter what.

In that moment, I found myself leaning into his touch, craving the warmth and comfort it offered. And as our fingers intertwined, a sense of peace washed over me, filling the room with a quiet serenity that spoke of the deep bond we shared.

There were other moments too – moments of shared laughter and inside jokes, of stolen glances and secret smiles – each one a testament to the depth of our connection and the growing affection we held for each other.

And as the weeks turned into months, I found myself falling for Jack in ways I never thought possible, his presence a constant source of joy and comfort in my life.

But amidst the growing closeness between us, there lingered a sense of hesitation – a fear of crossing boundaries that had long been established, of risking the fragile equilibrium of our friendship for the sake of something more.

And so, we treaded carefully, tiptoeing around the unspoken tension that simmered beneath the surface, content to bask in the warmth of each other's company while keeping our true feelings carefully guarded.

But deep down, I couldn't help but wonder – what if? What if we took a chance on love, risking everything for the possibility of something beautiful and true?

As the days passed and our friendship continued to blossom, I could sense a shift in the air – a tension that crackled with unspoken emotions, threatening to burst forth at any moment. And it was during one quiet evening, as we sat together on the balcony, that Jack finally found the courage to speak the words that had been weighing heavily on his heart.

"Y/N, there's something I need to say," he began, his voice soft yet tinged with a hint of urgency. "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I realize that I owe you an apology."

I turned to face him, my curiosity piqued by the solemn tone of his voice. "What for?" I asked, my heart racing in anticipation of what was to come.

"For everything," he replied, his gaze never wavering from mine. "For hurting you, for taking you for granted, for not realizing sooner what you mean to me."

His words washed over me like a wave, stirring a whirlwind of emotions within me – surprise, disbelief, and a flicker of hope that threatened to ignite into something more.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he continued, his voice tinged with regret. "I know I messed up, but I want you to know that I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right."

I felt a lump form in my throat as I listened to his heartfelt confession, the weight of his words settling in the pit of my stomach like a heavy stone. Could I trust him again, after everything we had been through? Did I dare to hope for a future where we could be more than just friends?

And then, before I could form a coherent response, Jack took a deep breath and spoke the words that I had longed to hear.

"I want more, Y/N," he confessed, his voice filled with quiet determination. "I want us to be more than just friends. I want to explore what we could have together, to see if there's a chance for something real between us."

A sense of relief washed over me as I heard Jack's heartfelt confession, his words echoing the silent desires of my own heart. For so long, I had yearned for something more – something deeper and more meaningful than the platonic friendship we had shared.

"I agree," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, the weight of his words settling over me like a warm blanket. "I want that too, Jack."

There was a flicker of hope in his eyes as he reached out and took my hand in his, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. It was a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes – a silent promise of the journey that lay ahead, filled with uncertainty and possibility.

And as we sat there, bathed in the soft glow of the evening sky, I knew that no matter what obstacles we may face, we would face them together, united by the bond of our shared love and the hope of a future filled with endless possibilities.

#hockey #nhl x reader #new jersey devils #nj devils #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes imagine

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theehoneeybee · 6 months

Text

Talking in Your Sleep. Chapter 3.

Talking in Your Sleep - Monkey Gone to Heaven

Children went missing at Freddy's in the 80's, forever tainting its reputation.

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.5k

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Children screamed and ran through the pizzeria, high off of cheap sugary candy and excitement. Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Place had become the go-to place for children's birthday parties and cheap pizza. Food, arcade games, prizes, and of course, the animatronics: it was a kid's dream. Everyone had their favourite member of the Faz-gang. There was Freddy Fazbear, Bonnie the Bunny, Chica the Chicken and Foxy the Pirate. On special occasions, another character would come out. A golden bunny. He was different from the other characters. He was controlled by a person. Someone inside the suit would walk around and entertain the kids when the main gang weren't on. He gave you the creeps. There was just something off about him that you couldn't describe. One of the employees had told you that the bunny was from a different location, and was meant to be part of a duo with a golden bear. You didn't really care for the other animatronics but you tried to stay away from the golden rabbit.

Tucked away in the corner of the main room, you sat at an abandoned table and drew away. Freddy's was your unwanted second home. Your parents worked. A lot. There was little time for them to look after you, and though they could afford to pay a babysitter, they chose to dump you at the pizzeria. Weekends and school holidays, you were there from open to close. More often that not, they forgot to pick you up too, too invested in their work to care about their own child. You couldn't escape the neglect at home, you parents would leave you to your own devices, continuing to work from home. It had taught you to become independent. You knew how to cook, clean and take care of yourself. It wasn't like you had any other choice.

You stared down at the page. The cheap waxy crayons Freddy's provided strewn across the table. Drawing had become your escape. As soon as the colours hit the page, everything else melted away. The sounds of screaming kids, pinball machines and singing animatronics became background noise. It helped you pass the time. Being at Freddy's from 9am to 9pm multiple days a week gets boring quickly. You had managed to get the high score on every arcade game, collected almost every prize available at the counter and tried every pizza flavour. You just wanted to go home.

At least the staff were lovely. Everybody knew you by name, always stopping by to make sure you were doing okay. They sometimes snuck you free ice cream too. You couldn't complain bout that. Seeing you here by yourself so often made them feel horrible. Many of the parents would stare and whisper. What kind of parent leaves there child here? You tried your best to ignore them. On days when your parents would forget to pick you up, someone would stay well past their shift to make sure you get picked up safely, letting you wait inside to avoid the cold weather.

"It's showtime, boys and girls!" a loud voice boomer over the intercom. "Come join Freddy and the gang for their latest song!"

Immediately, a tsunami of children flooded towards the show stage, jumping up and down excitedly as they waited for their favourite animatronics to appear. You didn't look up from your drawing. Colourful strobe lights painted the room as the rhythm of a pop sing started to play, the animatronics mechanically lip-syncing along. The chair across from you was pulled back and you heard the thud of someone sitting down. You peered up slightly from your drawing. Across from you was a girl about your age. Her long, golden blonde hair tied up in cute pig tails, adorned with colourful ribbons. She started at you, bright blue eyes filled with curiosity.

"Do you always sit by yourself?" she asked, you gave her a slow now, not putting down the crayons. The girl shuffled her chair over so she was next to you. "Woah!" she gasped, staring at your drawing. "You're really good!"

You shyly smiled, "Thank you."

"I'm Susan, but everyone calls me Suzie." Suzie offered her hand out for a handshake. After a moment of hesitation, you took it and introduced yourself.

You and Suzie quickly became friends. She came in every Saturday with her family for lunch. You learnt her favourite animatronic was Chica. She would carry around a plush of Carl the Cupcake and wore a shirt that said 'Let's Eat!'. The two of you would draw east pizza and draw together, sticking up your artworks on the wall which were adorned with hundreds of other drawings. Suzie would always insist yours were the best. She made your time at the pizzeria more bearable. You actually looked forward to Saturdays were you would get to see her. Her family was sympathetic towards your situation. In a way, you were jealous of them. All you wanted was a normal family. Parents who actually wanted to spend time with you. They always offered you a ride home, but you couldn't accept. 'My parents will be here soon,' you'd always insist. They were reluctant to leave you, but there was always and employee who's wait and keep you safe. You didn't want to burden them.

One Saturday, Suzie wanted to go watch the show. Chica was going to be performing a Cyndi Lauper song, two of Suzie's favourite things. You decided you would keep drawing then once the show was done, you'd go play arcade games together. The show ended, but Suzie didn't come back. You waited for a few minutes, she had probably just gone to the bathroom. But after fifteen minutes had gone by and Suzie hadn't returned, you started to get worried. Packing up your crayons, you began your search of the pizzeria. You went through every room twice, even checking the bathrooms. Nervously, you decided to approach her parents.

"Hi sweetheart," Suzie's mum greeted you, a kind smile painted on her lips. When she saw the worried look on your face, her face fell to one of concern. "What's wrong?"

"I can't find Suzie."

The next few weeks at the pizzeria were quiet. Cops came and went, searching the pizzeria top to bottom to see if they couldn't find clues to Suzie's disappearance. Her face was plastered all over the news: Young girl goes missing at local pizzeria. Slowly, the investigation slowed as nothing was being uncovered. You didn't want to go back to Freddy's. Your parents would drop you off, kicking and screaming until you had finally had enough. They dropped parents not to take you there. You plea fell on deaf ears.

You stood up, dusting dirt off of your jeans to begin the journey home. You turned around, taking one last look at the sign, Freddy waving with a big grin, illuminated by cheap neon lights. The walk home was long. You kicked rocks along the path, scuffing your shoes in the process, holding onto the straps of your backpack. A faded missing persons poster was taped to a light post. Suzie's familiar face stared at you ,a bright smile adored as if she wasn't missing. You felt your bottom lip tremble, running the rest of the way home.

When you got home, you were out of breath, taking a minute to sit on the porch steps and breathe. You tried to door but it was locked. Somewhere in the garden your parents kept a spare key. For the next half an hour, you searched the plants, turning over rocks and faded gnome statues until you found it. The house was empty. It would still be hours until your parents came home. You didn't care if they would be mad. You refused to go back to the pizzeria.

It was almost 10pm when your parents came home. You were half asleep, laying down on the couch as the TV played quietly in the background. "Why weren't you at Freddy's?" your father asked nonchalantly. He was tired from work, loosening his tie as he entered the living room.

You sat up angrily. "I'm not going back there. Suzie went missing there, you know. I'm not going back!"

Your father groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Whatever, I'm not dealing with you right now. Just stay at home." He walked upstairs, leaving you alone.

You slowly wandered up the stairs to your apartment, lugging bags of groceries up with you. Your arms burnt as the heavy bags gave you a workout. Fumbling with the keys, you managed to make your way inside. As soon as you stepped in, you were greeted by a bundle of letters in the hallway, having been pushed through the rust mail slot in the door. You sighed as you put your groceries away. The fridge was bare aside from a few half-empty condiment bottles. You scooped up the letters and flopped down on the couch, opening them up one by one.

Electricity. Overdue. Gas. Overdue.

The last one made your stomach drop.

Rent. Overdue. Final notice.

Angrily, you threw the bills onto the coffee table. You had until the end of the month to pay this month, plus the back rent or you'd be on the streets. After the events at Freddy's last night, you were planning on calling Steve today to quit but it didn't seem like that was an option now. Even if you took another job during the day, with minimum wage you would never be able to pay it all off. You rubbed your temples, trying to fight of the headache you felt brewing. There wasn't anyone else you could stay with either. Your relationship with your parents was non-existent. The second you turned 18, you left like a bat out of hell. You decided to take a nap before your shift, curling up on the couch, trying to ignore your impending doom.

"Abby, give me my vest." Abby, with Mike's oversized security vest hanging off her shoulders, stood firm. "I'm serious," Mike stated. "Give me the vest."

"No!" Abby protested. "I don't want to stay with Aunt Jane. She smells like cigarettes," she whispered.

Max had gone MIA. She didn't answer any of Mike's calls. He even tried calling her brother but it went straight to voicemail. As a last resort, he called Aunt Jane. Of course, she jumped on any opportunity to make Mike look bad. Oh, you can't take care of Abby? I'm not surprised, I guess I'll gave to do it. Mike grabbed Abby, throwing her over his shoulder. She squealed, banging on Mike's back. After a struggle, Mike managed to steal the vest off of her.

"She's all yours," Mike huffed, grabbing his backpack and heading out the door.

Dread filled his body as he drove to Freddy's. Every cell in his body was telling him to turn around, to call Steve and quit, but Mike powered forward. He needed this job to prove to the court that he was a fit guardian for Abby. If that meant putting himself at risk at a haunted pizzeria, he'd do it. There's nothing he wouldn't do to keep Abby safe. Mike was surprised to see your car when he pulled into the parking lot. He was almost certain you would have quit. You had already opened the pizzeria and were set up in the security office.

The sound of the door opening startled you. "I'm surprised to see you back here," Mike says, putting his backpack into the locker.

"I could say the same for you." Mike wedged the chair under the door, tugging on the handle to make sure it was secure. "Trust me, if I could quit, I would," you said with a sardonic chuckle.

The two of you had an unspoken agreement that you wouldn't be leaving the security office tonight. While the whole pizzeria was a death trap, the security office was the safest room. Mike noted as you anxiously bit your lip. You both sat in silence, eyes glued to the monitors and listening intently for any noises. Mike yawned, almost nodding off as he tried to keep focus on the monitors. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and you noticed his usual undereye bags were even darker than usual.

"You can sleep, y'know," you offered.

Mike immediately shook his head. "No, I don't want you be alone."

"I'll be fine, Mike," you promised. "You really look like you need the sleep. I'll be okay for a couple of hours."

Mike looked between you and the monitors before reluctantly agreeing. He grabbed his cassette player out of his backpack and put his headphones on. You couldn't help the small smirk which formed on your lips. Mike gave your chair a playful kick before settling into his own. You kept a close watch on the monitors, letting Mike get some rest. Your mind couldn't help but wander back to your many bills. Your stomach churned with anxiety. Unable to focus, you decided to properly explore the office. Despite working here for almost three weeks now, you never bothered to properly look through the office. You poured over the shelves, mostly filled with old paperwork and memorabilia. As you checked through the lockers, a bright orange container fell out. Curiously, you picked it up. 'Michael Schmidt,' the label read. 'Triazolam. Take 1-2 before bed.' Sleeping tablets. You glanced over at Mike before carefully putting the bottle back into his backpack. Feeling like you had overstepped a boundary, you quickly took your seat and went back to watching the monitors.

"Garrett!" Mike called out, watching in despair as the navy blue car skidded away. The sound of a twig snapping behind him caught Mike's attention. To his surprise, five young children were standing behind him. The blonde boy stood in front of the rest, staring Mike dead in the eyes.

"What is this?" Who are you?" Mike asked with confusion, looking across the group. T he children didn't move, staring at him in silence. "That car. Did you see who drove that car?" Did you see who took my brother?"

In an instant, the children scattered, running in different directions. This dream was different. They were never different. Every night he would relive the memory of Garrett being taken, but something was wrong this time. Mike began to chase after the blonde boy, following him deeper into the pine forest. Just as he was about to catch up, his foot got caught on a rock, sending him tumbling to the hard dirt below.

"Shit! Are you alright?" you asked, leaning down by Mike's side. He was fast asleep, then the next thing you knew, he had flown out of his chair onto the floor. Mike groaned, rubbing the back of his head as he slowly sat up. He looked around your office, your concerned gaze focused on his face.

"I'm fine," Mike assured. "How long was I asleep for?"

You helped him stand up. "A couple of hours. It's almost six. Did you have a bad dream or something?"

Mike sat back down into his chair with a huff. "Something like that. It happens a lot though. I'm used to it."

Your eyes flickered over to the locker, then back at Mike. You noticed his forehead was bleeding. "You've hit your head. I'll grab the first-aid kit. Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Luckily the first-aid kit was kept in the office so you wouldn't have to venture out. Even though nothing strange had happened tonight, you were still on edge. Kit in hand, you scooted your chair closer to Mike. You pushed his hair out of the way, gently cleaning the wound. It wasn't very deep, just a small cut.

"I'm fine." Mike winced slightly as you cleaned the wound. "Y'know how I have that book on dream theory?" you nodded. "Well, I use it to relive a memory of my brother. When I was younger, he got taken. No one ever found him or who did it."

"I'm sorry," you apologised. Your last day with Suzie came to mind. It had been so long since you thought about her. "So, you're trying to remember if you saw his face?"

Mike nodded. "Not having much luck though."

You finished cleaning his cut and gently placed a bandaid on top. Of course, the only bandaids in the supply box were Freddy Fazbear themed, not that Mike knew that. You tried to hide your smile as you stuck the Foxy bandage to his forehead, letting his hair fall back into place. "All better now."

The alarm on Mike's watched sounded, signalling the end of your shift. You shivered as you stepped out into the cold morning air, locking the rusty metal gates behind you. You decided to sit in your car and watch the sun rise, giving Mike a wave as he drove off. You looked at the Freddy's sign through the rear-view mirror and felt a pang of guilt hit your chest. You knew what it was like to lose someone dear to you. You thought about Suzie and the other kids who went missing. It was unfair that they were taken away. Their families deserved closure. You wanted closure. You started your car and began the drive home in silence.

Tomorrow is another day.

#mike schmidt x reader #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson #william afton #michael afton #abby schmidt

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