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kusagrasskusa · 3 years

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Michael Myers X Short! Reader

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

I wrote this story on Wattpad (@Red_scarfed_person) and decided to post it here lol. If you saw this on Wattpad and don't believe me, you can go to my page on Wattpad and see that in my Messages, I talk about having a Tumblr account and left my Tumblr username there :)

And rereading my old story scared me. If you're here expecting a violent, fearful story, please don't read this. This is full of the sarcasm someone who lacks sleep can muster.

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

Ah yes. Y/N's favorite part of the day. Trying to cook. Was that sarcasm? Partially.

Y/N loved cooking; it was so satisfying to see people enjoy her food. But the part she hated was trying to reach the goDDAMN bowls and ingredients from the cabinets. Why did the construction workers have to put them 17 light years high?

Of course, it wasn't the construction workers' fault. It's just that Y/N is the size of a fifth grader. 4'6" tall. What makes it harder to live being so short? Living with someone who's 6'7."

You see, a while ago, there was a certain incident...

A tall male in a white mask and blue jumpsuit, brown hair and blue eyes, found himself in the home of another. He silently panted in his mask, in pain even if he wouldn't show it. Rolling up his sleeves and pulling up the bottom of his shirt, Michael started checking for severe wounds.

"Damn, you're hot..." Some short woman mumbled, turning on the kitchen light. Michael perked up, pulling his shirt back down and reaching for his knife.

"Oh, damn, wrong time to speak up? Sorry," Y/N said, not even knowing if she was being sarcastic in that sentence or not. Mainly since author-san doesn't know if their being sarcastic or not. Anyway--

Michael started walking towards her with the knife, not running since we all know that Michael can walk and still win Olympic runs. Y/N just grabbed a candy bar in her cabinet, opening it and taking a bit.

Michael was confused as hell. As a result, he stopped walking and lowered the knife. "So, you're not gonna kill me? That sucks since my dept is unbelievably high." Michael blinked quickly in confusion, thinking, then it might not be too high with short you are.

Y/N sighed, then gasped. "Oh wait! You're that boogeyman guy who everyone is scared of!" Y/N said with a small smile. She wasn't sadistic or anything, but she was sorta excited to see him.

Michael just stood there, not even knowing how to react for the first time in his life. Y/N then sighed again, throwing away the wrapper to the candy bar and shrugging. "If you decide to kill me later, stab my neck. It's very sensitive. Oh and my room is down the hall, to the left. And my couch is comfortable if you wanna sleep there."

And with those last words, Y/N walked to her room, closing the door behind her and getting it bed. Leaving a confused serial killer.

The next morning, Y/N yawned as she walked out of her bedroom and to the kitchen. Her kitchen and living room was one large room, the kitchen set to the right near the front door, and the living room on the other side of the room.

Between them is a hallway that leads to a bedroom and bathroom. It was a two story house. The top two floors had an office room, another bathroom, and a storage room.

Anyway, Y/N rubbed sleep from her eyes as she walked over to the stove and grabbing a pan. She also pulled out milk, pepper, salt and eggs and set them ok the counter. But now she needed a bowl to even put those in.

Michael heard noise from the kitchen which resulted in him waking up. He slowly sat up on the couch, turning to face Y/N. He got up and walked towards her.

"Why is this so high up," Y/N mumbled to herself as she tried to reach a bowl from a cabinet. She couldn't even reach the handle on the cabinet. Growling in frustration, Y/N gave into defeat.

But then comes Michael opening the cabinet for her, making her help and turn around. "W-Who the hell are you!" Y/N shrieked, blushing a bit. I mean, here she is, a tiny gal blocked in the corner of the kitchen by a tall, mascular guy.

Memories came flooding back and Y/N remembered who he was. "Ooooh, so you're that boogeyman guy? I remember now...wait... I let a damn serial killer into my house!?" Y/N shrieked again as Michael set down the bowl, turning on the stove.

As Y/N went through her epiphany, Michael actually started to cook. It wasn't until he was done did Y/N snap out of it. He set out two plates and cups, putting the scrambled eggs on them and filling the cups with F/D.

"W-Wait...so you aren't going to kill me? You're really gonna..." Y/N mumbled as Michael grabbed a nearby receipt and pen. He wrote down something, making Y/N shush and lean over at what he's writing.

"My name is Michael. I'm not planning on hurting you anytime soon. What is your name?" it read. Y/N was confused as hell now. Why would he spare her? What is so special about her? I should just be grateful, Y/N thought.

"I'm Y/N, Y/N L/N..." Y/N said, looking up at Michael. She blushed a bit, making eye contact. Michael grabbed a plate and cup and handed it to her, then grabbed his own and sat down at the small diner table. Well, way to go from one thing to another, Y/N thought as she sat down next to him.

As much as it confused her, Y/N still wasn't sure how she was still alive. But she was grateful she was, anyway. She always the tall male attractive, but never had feelings for him until recently.

Even if he'd refuse to get things for her that were high up, give her looks that just screamed out about her being short, and wrote down short on sticky notes and put them everywhere, she fell for him. What a lovely crush.

"Why the hell are the damn cabinets 17 light years high," Y/N growled as she climbed on the counter. Just as she was about to grab a bowl, she yelped when large arms wrapped around her an pulled her down carefully.

"Michael! Hey, let go!" Y/N yelled, trying to be serious despite how much she wanted to smile and laugh. Michael shook his head, hugging her tighter.

Despite how badly be wanted to tease her about her height, he kept quiet of course. He didn't just want a hug, either, he wanted to pull her down so she'd have to struggle to get back on the counter again. As said before, what a lovely crush.

Michael eventually pulled away, taking a couple steps back. Y/N looked over at him with a sour-sweet look, blushing a bit. She crossed her arms, "so, was that all you wanted?" Yeah, is that all you wanted, baka? ≧n≦

Michael shook his head, pointing to the bathroom. Y/N raised a brow. "What?" She asked, thinking for a moment. "You need a towel or something?" Michael then nodded.

Y/N smiled a bit, nodding. She walked to her room, Michael following until they reached the door. Grabbing a towel, Y/N walked back over to him and handed it. "It might be a bit small for a giant such as yourself, but here."

Michael nodded, then walked towards the bathroom and went inside. Y/N smiled a bit, thinking to herself about what he'd look like once he got out. It made her cheeks heat up and her heart beat a bit faster.

And about 15 minutes later, Y/N was back in the living room, watching TV. "C'mon, Saitama, beat the hell outta them..." Y/N mumbled under her breath, watching an intense fighting scene.

Y/N perked when she heard the bathroom door open and looked over. Long story short about that was happening in her mind: bad idea.

"MMMM-" Y/N screamed muffledly, having covered her mouth with a pillow that moment. Her face was red, blushing hard from the sight. The towel covered just enough on Michael to where nothing was shown, but he was h o t. Even the scars on him weren't seen as disturbing or anything.

Michael cocked his head, holding his clothes in his hands. He ignored Y/N's reaction to seeing him, since he only cared about his jumpsuit being cleaned. Of course he would act like that--

Y/N, already knowing what Michael wanted, slowly stood up and walked over. She was figitting, clearly still flustered as she grabbed his clothes. "I-I'll just, uh, go wash these..." She mumbled as she walked passed him quickly, to the washing machine and dryer.

Michael blinked a couple times, thinking about the hell he's supposed to where for the time being. Just the towel?

About five minutes passed, Michael was still waiting next to the bathroom for Y/N to come back. He just wanted something to c h a n g e i n t o.

Alas, the moment finally came. Y/N walked back out after almost crying to herself in the laundry room. Typing this out now made me realize I'm making it sound like Y/N was-- well, if you know, you know. But no, that wasn't happening. Our child, Y/N, was just flustered, ok? Yes, our child. I care about you so much reader and I love your OC even though idfk what they look like. They're a beautiful specimen. :):):):):):) Anyway, back to the story.

"H-Hey," Y/N stuttered as she walked out, waving as Michael. Michael, who kept his mask on by the way, just rolled his eyes from inside the mask, handing her a piece of paper. It said that he needed a change of clothes, to which Y/N just chuckled about. "I-I mean...Do you reallllyyy? Can't you just stick with that? You don't look too bad in it, heh heh."

Michael have her a dull look from under his mask, making Y/N sigh. "Fine, whatever. But let's be honest, I'm not gonna have anything that fits you. You should just stick with that," she said, shrugging and pretending to calm about seeing him like that. She was clearly in a flirty mood, which she sometimes gets like when she wants to annoy Michael.

He likes to out sticky notes everywhere with the word short on it, pull her off counters so she has a harder time getting stuff from cabinets, and put his hand above her head as if he was saying, "You're not tall enough to do ____." So it's only normal she would flirt to get him back. But mayyybe acting like that isn't a good decision on her part.

Michael sighed silently, grabbing Y/N"s wrist softly. "Wha--" Y/N cut herself off when Michael pulled her close, leaning down to get his face close to her's. Then, for the very first time in years, Michael spoke.

"Whatever makes you happier~" Michael whispered in her ear; his voice was low and husky. Y/N turned red immediately, incapable of even coming up with a response. Hold on- a tall, mysterious guy with a good figure pulled me close and now can speak, in a hot goddamn voice at that, Y/N thought.

Michael caressed her cheek, pulling away. Y/N had her mouth slightly parted, her eyes widened. "Yo...You can..." Y/N stuttered, not even able to come up with a sentence. So instead, she just nodded slowly, slowly walking into her room and gesturing for him to follow. Michael smiled proudly under his mask, following her.

Yes, what he did was small but Y/N was the kind of person to be a bit extra about these things. Of course it affected her. Anyway, about five minutes later, Y/N couldn't find anything for him to wear other than a large hoodie and very oversized sweatpants she got from a Plot Convenience Sale, which was kinda tight for him. But at least she had a use for the sweatpants, since that was kinda just in her closet.

Y/N took a deep breath once Michael was done changing, coming out of her room. Of course, she left the room when he got changed so don't think dirty, precious readers. Y/N looked over, smiling a bit with heated cheeks at Michael. The small moment from earlier was still bothering her.

"Does it fit?" she asked, raising a brow. Michael nodded, putting his hands in the hoodie pockets. "That's good," Y/N mumbled, staring at the ground awkwardly. A couple moments of silence later, Michael smiled from under his mask, taking it off while Y/N was too busy being lost in a daydream to notice.

"Thank you," Michael whispered as her kissed her forehead, making Y/N flinch. Because Michael appears to be as fast as light, he was already putting his mask on by the time Y/N looked up. Her face was red again, but even worse than before.

"M-Michael, did you just--" Michael was already walking away, brushing her off. "Hey, listen to me!" Y/N yelled as she caught up to him. Like hell that was going to be a one time thing, Y/N thought. I'm going to see his face eventually, she promised herself.

#slashers #slashers x reader #slashers x you #michael myers x reader #michael myers #old story #horror movies #short reader #reader insert #x reader

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thenextchapter22 · 3 years

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Mail Order… Kitten Girl

Part 4: Demons?!

Description: Satan accidentally orders a special type of ‘cat’ online after having a few too many drinks…

Tags: Past Abuse, Past Non/Con, Slavery, Pet Play, Cat Hybrids, Fluff, Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content

Pairing(s): Reader/Everyone (but Luke)

Link to my AO3: Click Here

Part One Part Two Part Three

+++++ MINORS DNI +++++

You had been given clothes first. Asmo, the flirty one, lead you to his bedroom. It smelled like flowers, and fruit, and while it was nice it was a little overwhelming to your senses at first.

“Here, sit on the bed and I’ll grab some clothes for you,” he said softly, and sat you on the edge of the bed. You cared not that you were as nude as the day you were born, and he didn't either. It was typical of Kitten Girls to be so and you had been trained for it; Master’s liked their Kitten’s ready at all times.

Asmo disappeared into his walk-in closet, and you looked around the room, bouncing on the bed. It was soft and warm, you wanted to sleep in it.

“Ah, here, this should fit you perfectly!”

You jumped as he emerged from his closet. He had a few pieces of cloth in his arms, and they all looked cozy and you even saw a pair of fuzzy socks. You had never had those before. This was a real treat you would take advantage of.

He sat on the bed next to you, smiled at you again and thus giving your body slight shivers. Something in his eyes made you feel pleasant.

You waited for him to do something, but he seemed to be admiring your face. The staring was nerve wrecking. “You’re very beautiful, little kitty,” he eventually stated. “Can I pet your ears?”

You blushed, but nodded. "You can,” you softly spoke in the quiet room.

He squealed. His fingers were delicate on your head, and he scratched in the right places before he carefully stroked over your ears. Such a gentle touch, and he made sure to be slow about it. You found your eyes closing in contentment.

When he stopped after a minute, you pouted. And you realized you’d been purring, too, which made your cheeks burn. You curled your tail around your waist and squeezed, a distraction you had done over the years to get out of your own head.

He giggled. “I think you should get dressed. Then we can go to see what Beel made for you to eat.” Asmo handed you the stack he’d set on his side. “You can change here, or go into my closet. Whatever makes you feel more comfortable.”

You shrugged. You were already nude. This was one of your Masters’ rooms after all. Putting on clothes within the first hour of being here was strange, but if it was what they wanted…

You slipped on the underwear, cotton, and loose pants, also cotton, then the tank top and after that the sweatshirt. Everything was either pink or pink and glittery, but not uncomfortable. You had to adjust the pants to make them a little lower so it could be freed. You sat back down and put the socks on. You felt so warm and soft, almost sleepy. But Asmo said food was next, so you kept your eyes open and looked to him for what to do.

He smiled, and his eyes sparkled. “Good. Let’s go to the kitchen,” he said, and took your hand to lead you out of the room.

_+_

The kitchen was packed with people. You hadn’t ever been around so many in one room in a very long time. You counted and they were all there, all the men from before in the first room, probably to because they wanted to see you. They stared at you, almost ogling but not quite, and then went back to doing whatever else they were doing.

You followed Asmo to the center of the room, and glanced around, taking in the many different types of machines and types of food all over. Some of it looked quite strange, but you supposed that you hadn’t been in an actual kitchen in a while. It was mostly served to you in your rooms, or in a cafeteria style.

“She looks cozy, Asmo,” said the sleepy-looking one. He sat on a bar top with a spotted pillow, his head pressed down into it. His head tilted sideways so he could speak clearly.

“Thank you Belphie. I wanted our new darling to be cute and comfortable,” he said proudly.

You looked down at your feet, sliding them on the tiled floor. It was fun, like skating. You smiled and did it again, and then sucked in a breath when you bumped into a solid chest.

You backed up and put your head down, shaking. “S-s-sorry,” you stuttered.

There was a large hand on your head, and you ‘oof’ed. “Don’t worry about it.”

You glanced up to see a large red-headed man, the one from before that mentioned food. He grinned at you. “Your hair is soft, and so are your ears.”

Blushing, you said, “Thank you,” quietly, again. So far, they hadn’t told you to be quiet, so you hoped you would be able to speak a little more here. It was nice to hear your own voice.

“So, what did you make for her, Beel?” asked the white-haired man. He stood over the red-head, Beel, who was cooking in a large pot on the stove.

“A simple broth soup. Not sure what’s she’s eaten before, so something lighter will be good.”

You inhaled, and sighed. It smelled salty and sweet, and the rich aroma made your stomach growl.

The men all laughed. You hid your face in one hand, and your other flickered with the tip of your tail in nervous habit.

“Well, I assume she’ll like it from that noise,” Lucifer stated with a smirk.

Beel turned his head and smiled. “It’s ready.”

You were the only one who ate (but you did see Beel sneak some, but it wasn’t your place to speak against a Master). It was nerve-wrecking, but you didn’t care. It tasted so good. You drank the entire bowl and had seconds, and Beel seemed glad to dish it out. Then you sighed in delight and purred, licking your lips and cleaning your fangs with your tongue.

Lucifer let you settle for a minute before he spoke. “Now that you’ve eaten, I think we should all take a seat in the common room and talk.”

Everyone got settled on the sofas and chairs in the next room. It was a nice little set up, books and a fireplace, and soft light from the lamps surrounding the furniture. You made to sit on the floor closest to Lucifer, because no one permitted you to sit on the couches, but he gave you a look and pointedly glanced at the open seat beside the white-haired man.

You sat obediently and straightened your back.

He cleared his throat. “I think we should all start with introductions. I’m Lucifer, the eldest brother.”

The one beside you moved frantically in his seat and grinned. “Oi, I’m Mammon, the second oldest and the Greatest!”

There was silence, aside from some beeping, and you looked up to see everyone glaring at the purple-haired man.

“Levi!” a few of them shouted.

He jumped and made a crazy noise. “W-what? Oh, I—I’m Leviathan, but just call me Levi, you normie.”

You frowned. Did he insult you? There was no way to tell.

A sigh from the blonde across from you with crossed legs. “My name is Satan. Pleased to meet you.” He smiled, and it was very sweet.

“You know me, darling~ My name is Asmodeus, but I prefer Asmo,” he said with a flirty wink. You felt gooey on the inside looking in his pretty pink eyes, like he was entrancing you or something.

The large man smiled. “I’m Beelzebub, but Beel works, too. Whatever you want.” He hit the sleeping one beside him, and sighed. “This is Belphegor, but just call him Belphie.”

You looked around found them all staring at you. They were all family, which was nice. All brothers. You twitched in your seat, their gazed almost pressuring you, and you didn’t know what they wanted to happen next. But then, they were introducing, so that meant…

“I—I don’t… my name...” you didn’t go by any name, not anymore. “Just call me… Kitten.”

They nodded, or smiled gently. They seemed to understand and respect that, and you almost cried with relief and happiness. Your new Masters were so kind.

Lucifer clapped his gloved hands together. “Well, we should get you a room then. I also want to let you know one more thing, seeing as you are part Human and are probably unaware.”

He went on to explain that they were all… demons. And you were in a place called the Devildom.

You laughed. You hadn’t laughed in so long, and it felt good. “You—ha—you are—haha,” you couldn’t even speak, the idea was so absurd. It was totally wrong of you to laugh at your Masters but you could not help yourself.

Yes, you were part cat, but that was just genetics, this was an entire Heaven/Hell, and God and the Devil thing. That was no way true. If so, God would not have allowed you to go through what you did. Because if he did, then what kind of God was he?

Lucifer was pissed off. “You dare to laugh?”

Then, an unspeakable event happened. Smoke appeared, black and wild, all around him. And you looked and saw several types of smoke appearing around your other Masters as well. The sleeping one was no long asleep, and had his own smoke covering.

Once it cleared, seconds later, they had drastically changed…

Horns of different shapes on all of their heads. Tails or wings, fluttering about. Fangs, sharper than yours, prominent on their grinning or sly smirking lips. Outfits with chains, leather, and flamboyant colors, jewelry that sparkled and gleamed. It was magical, and insane.

You paled, and opened your mouth to scream. “DEMONS?!!”

_+_

You were panicking. This was not happening. You were sent to Hell? Did you die? Demons were all around you, and they looked so scary. Big and demanding presences all over the room.

There would be pain, and torture. Blood. Again, blood, but this time worse than before. Because a paddling from a human you could take, but what about torture from demons?

They were not human . They were evil.

Lucifer’s wings were huge, and black. Levi had a serpent’s tail, and you pictured it around your neck. Mammon’s chest was bare, marked with white, and he looked so strong. The list went on and on, scarier and scarier, you started to hyperventilate. You barely had a chance to look at anyone else, too frightened to open your eyes.

“Calm down.”

The hand on your arm made you scream, and you pushed away whoever touched you. You fell to the floor on your knees, and held your hands over your ears which were flat on your head.

“She’s shaking, what should we do?” asked Mammon.

“I believe we should start by shifting back, so she isn’t quite so frightened of us.”

“Good thinking, Satan,” Beel responded.

They were talking, but you barely heard them. You rocked yourself, hoping to comfort yourself in the motion.

There was a rush of air around you, then a pressure over your body, and you moved your hands from your head to grab the fabric. It was a blanket, thin but still soft. You rubbed it, the sensation soothing you a little.

“Kitten, you can open your eyes now, it’s all right.” Lucifer’s voice rang out.

You inhaled, exhaled, and did just that. They were normal again. Or rather, disguised as normal.

There was a hand in your face, and a Kleenex. You took the offered tissue from Asmodeus, and wiped your eyes and nose.

“W-where am I?”

“You’re in the Devildom, sweetheart,” Asmo replied with a sort of pitying look.

After you sat back on the sofa in the corner, blanket secured over you, Lucifer explained what the Devildom was, and who they were, and the entire time you were listening with apt attention. You were so amazed by it all, until he said ‘Demon’s’ again and then you freaked out.

“W—will you h-hurt me?” you murmured.

A soft hand on your hair behind your ears, it was Satan standing beside you. He smiled and shook his head. “No, Kitten, we won’t hurt you.”

You leaned into his touch, and he scratched around your ears. You sighed. That was nice.

“Are you… g-gonna to keep me?”

“If that’s what you want.”

What… you want? You got to decide? You swallowed and nodded. “Please. I’d like to stay… masters.”

They all grinned at you, and cheered.

“Yes, this is going to be so fun, I’m going to set a beauty routine for us with face masks and everything, oh and your claws are perfect to paint, what do you think of the color pink?”

“She’s too skinny, we need to feed her more. I’ll look up what cats eat.”

“Beel, she’s not just a cat, she’s human, too. Look up human world recipes so we don’t poison her.”

“Oh, right. Thanks, Belphie.”

“I’m gonna teach her sooo much!”

“Eew, Mammon, don’t be such a perv.”

“Oi, Levi! I was talkin’ ‘bout Poker, not anythin’ sexual! Satan, help me out here!”

“You dug your own grave, Mammon. We all knew you’d be the one.”

“W-what does that mean!?”

You giggled into your hands. They were all so cute, and you curled into the blanket and listened to the chaotic brothers argue about what to do with you. For Demons, they acted like normal people. Well, what you remembered a family of normal people acted like.

Lucifer was watching you, and you looked back at him. He gave you an exasperated look, and you purred into the blanket and sighed.

This was your home now. These were your Masters. Demons, but still... They were yours.

#obey me fanfic #fanfiction #shall we date obey me #reader fanfiction #obey me reader x everyone #mail order kitten girl #hybrids #cat hybrid #my fics #ao3 link #female reader

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infaethable · 4 years

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(part one here)

riz gukgak has been legally dead for a week when he wakes up in a hospital bed.

it’s not like in movies, he doesn’t come to consciousness all at once. he catches snippets of conversations and traces of sensations, the relief of his mother’s voice for half a second, the comforting smell of adaine’s bergamot shampoo that always lingers even a few days after a wash, a hand in his, rubbing a thumb across riz’s split and scabbed over knuckles before he finally fights the urge to go back into the sweet relief of unconsciousness and opens his eyes.

it's so bright that he immediately has to beat back the impulse to close them again, his pupils narrowing into slits in order to take in less light. he's got a killer headache, and his mouth is dry as he says the only thing he can think of.

which is understandably, "ow."

fabian, who riz had uncharacteristically not noticed sleeping silently in the chair beside the bed, falls out of said chair in surprise. riz lets a smile spread across his face, the first in a number of weeks.

now that he's more in himself, he takes in the room more and sees that clearly, he's been here for at least a little bit. if he had to guess, a couple of days. there are multitudes of cards on his bedside table, a kids one scrawled over in black sharpie clearly from fig, a handmade one that could be from kristen or gorgug, a lovingly colored in color by numbers type thing unmistakably from adaine, and a number of nondescript ones probably from distant classmates or his mom’s coworkers. on the windowsill is a slightly misshapen glass vase riz recognizes from it’s home on fabian’s dresser, holding a tin flower.

riz leans over the side of his bed, ignoring the flash of pain from pulling his stitches (which he apparently has now?) and takes in fabian himself, who’s getting his bearings on the floor. he supposes he’s being hypocritical, as someone in a hospital bed, but fabian looks rough.

he's got dark shadows under his eyes, and his hair, which over the past year had shifted slowly from straightened to loose bouncy curls, is frizzy, and disheveled like he’s run his hands through it too many times for the style to keep. his jacket, usually pressed (which riz made fun of to no end, the idea of pressing a letterman's jacket was so ridiculous-) was crumpled on the chair as if it had been draped over him like a blanket when he fell. and as fabian reaches a hand on the side of the hospital bed to help himself up, riz sees that there are white bandages wrapped around his palms.

riz feels a pang of worry along with the pull of his stitches, so he reluctantly repositions himself, but cocks his head to meet fabian’s gaze and croaks out (he should really ask about some ice chips-), “what happened to your hands?”

fabian finally gets himself to a standing position, blinks the sleep from his eyes, and says, "the ball. you’re- i'm going to get a nurse!" and runs out of the room.

riz gets about ten seconds of confusion before sklonda comes running in, and envelops him in the warmest hug he’s ever had and holds on for dear life.

and then, in a voice laced with more grief than he’s heard in six years, she says,

"you- riz you were gone."

and riz says back, trying not to get his mom’s curls in his mouth,

"i texted adaine?"

and sklonda pulls back, hands still on his shoulders, says,

"and then you went missing for three weeks! they found three and a half pints of your blood on the floor of a laundromat in bastion city, riz you are so!"

and then she makes a noise that riz knows means she is utterly done with his antics and buries him in a hug again.

and a nurse comes and taps sklonda on the shoulder, "mrs. gukgak? we need to check his vitals."

his mom corrects the nurse under her breath, “as i’ve told you, it’s miss gukgak.” before taking a step back.

riz answers benign questions like what country he's in (solace) what week it is (second week in november) how he’s feeling (bad) all the while craning his neck very subtly to see if fabian will come back in the room. his mom only rolls her eyes once.

when the nurse leaves, sklonda sighs and rubs her temples, and starts, "riz, you lost- you lost so much blood."

riz can’t meet his mother’s eyes as shame pools in his gut, says quietly, "i- not all of it was mine."

sklonda tenses, before continuing, "we figured that out when you showed up again, but riz, it was." and her eyes well up as her voice breaks, "if it had been, there was no way- you couldn't have survived it."

riz's brows furrow in confusion, as he prompts, “but it wasn't."

and sklonda retorts with a frustrated hand gesture, "yes, well the idiots in the bastion city precinct didn't know that, riz." and pauses to make sure he's looking her in the eyes as she continues, "you were legally dead riz. for a week."

and riz's eyes widen as he takes in the information, "what- that's stupid. i was alive. didn't anyone do any divination spells? or locator spells? or, actually, fuck-” riz takes a quick breath as some machine next to him starts beeping, “i um. warded myself against divination and locator spells, but i think dead is a little bit of an overreaction! how does this happen?!"

sklonda raises her voice, “calm down-” before taking a glance at the steadily rising heart rate monitor, and says in a low tone, “what's done is done, and the important thing is that you're alive."

riz does not calm down, his voice raising pitch slowly, "everyone thought i was dead? everyone?"

sklonda nods her head slowly, says, "we were about halfway through your will, which, by the way, how the fuck did you, a fifteen-year-old boy, get a will notarized without letting me know about it? do you want to explain that?"

riz's eyes are as wide as saucers as he says, "wait wait wait. my will? halfway- how much of my will?"

sklonda furrows her brows for a millisecond in confusion before a revelation washes over her face and incredulous anger sets in,

"riz gukgak. you were legally dead for a week and that is what you're worried about? YOU LOST THREE PERCENT OF YOUR BODY WEIGHT IN BLOOD!"

and she takes a step back, takes a deep breath, and says, before riz can respond, "i am going to get myself another coffee, and you some ice chips. and you are banned from “deep cover” for- for till college!"

and riz tries to sit up, but his stitches pull too painfully to ignore, so he cranes his neck to see out of the room as he shouts after her, "like in icarly?!"

sklonda shouts back, “stop pulling your stitches!” before disappearing out of sight.

riz waits there for a couple of moments spiraling, maybe he got the old letter, fuck, did i remember to switch them out? habit of forgetting things integral to my wellbeing, please don’t fail me now, i promise i will never say anything bad about you again- maybe they didn’t even get through all of them? or maybe he got it but he didn’t open it? was going to save it for his wedding day or something like in that movie with julianne hough- before hearing tentative footsteps, and looks up to see fabian in the doorway, head down, wringing his hands.

riz is suddenly acutely aware that he hasn’t talked to fabian (besides the brief exchange earlier) in almost a month, which would make it the longest he’s gone without talking to fabian since they met. even in those long and lonely weeks in jail, they found quiet ways to communicate. notes passed daisy chain style, the odd few messages by way of fig or adaine whenever both of their cell doors opened enough to let magic in.

riz opens his mouth to say something, act like a normal fucking person, but-

he can't.

and thankfully, fabian does, clears his throat and says, so quiet that riz might not be able to hear it if he weren't a goblin, "i got your letter."

fuck.

riz winces and looks down at his lap, the green of his hands contrasting with the pale blue hospital gown patterned with tiny dark blue polka dots.

he holds his tongue as he thinks about what to say before finally responding, "you um.” so much for thinking about what to say, he thinks as he levels his gaze at fabian yet again, “i wrote two. i had to rewrite yours, for- reasons. which one?"

fabian takes a step into the room, pauses a moment, then closes the door behind him. fabian’s movements are slow and hesitant like he’s trying not to make any loud or sudden noises. he still won't meet riz's eyes. riz gets the sinking feeling that he knows what letter fabian read.

fabian confirms it anyway, "the one where you said-"

and that’s all riz needs to interrupt, his voice painfully high pitched at this point, "we don't have to talk about that. it- it was a contingency plan, just in case, you know, and we can just move past it."

riz gives a smile that begs fabian to not notice his face is lime green right now. and then as a further misdirect, he adds, "you never told me what happened to your hands."

fabian finally meets riz's eyes, and his expression is. god, riz is so bad at reading faces, and he’d count fabian’s as his top three most readable faces, on the sheer amount he looks at it alone. he’s. confused? hurt? but that can't be true, why would fabian feel hurt? maybe he's mad riz took advantage of their friendship? but fabian denies that there's a friendship to betray at every turn-

his train of thought gets interrupted by fabian's next words, breathy with a hint of annoyance maybe, "i- my sword. burned my hands. when i made my pact."

and riz's eyes widen even more as horror and panic sets it, what the fuck did fabian do-

"your WHAT?"

fabian winces at riz's gravelly voice, which cracks halfway through so it can't be very intimidating, before saying, "riz, it's not important, if we could just please talk about the letter-"

riz interrupts him again, "i don't think my feelings for you matter as much as you selling your soul, fabian, why would you do that, oh my fucking gods-"

and fabian raises his voice for the first time, a hint of darkness and desperation riz hasn't ever heard before in his voice, "you were dead riz."

and riz quiets down, shakes his head from side to side a minuscule amount, before saying so quietly it could almost be a whisper, "what does that have to do with anything?"

fabian gets a look on his face that riz couldn't parse in a million years, his lips the smallest bit parted and his head shaking in mirror to riz’s. disagreement? confusion? riz can’t figure it out.

fabian’s steps echo on the linoleum as he crosses the distance from the door to the side of riz’s bed. riz looks up at him, so much taller normally and even more imposing now, and he doesn’t know how fabian clocks it, but he does, leans down so he’s on his knees and he and riz are at eye level.

it's dizzying, to have fabian's full attention like this. he almost opens his mouth to question what are you doing? but can’t bring himself to break the magnetism of the moment.

fabian’s gaze bores into his, and he says again, so softly riz thinks for a second that he wasn’t meant to hear it, and so broken that riz never wants to hear it again,

"riz. you were dead."

and for a beat, they just stare at each other.

fabian, slowly, slowly, reaches his hand to envelop riz’s, and it feels familiar. he can’t remember any other time fabian has held his hand, so that has to mean-

riz gets these feelings sometimes, little thorns of hope that dig their way in and whisper, what if- that inevitably disappoint when fabian crushes them underfoot. riz waits for the inevitable.

the inevitable doesn’t happen.

fabian leans in the slightest bit so that their foreheads are touching. so close that riz's breath hitches and fabian must feel it. and fabian has tears running down his face, riz doesn’t know how he missed fabian starting to cry, but he is, and fabian swallows a lump in his throat before saying in a pleading tone,

"riz”

riz realizes that fabian hasn't called him the ball since he came in the room.

so he says back, those thorns crawling their way into his voice, hope, bloody and raw,

"yeah?"

fabian swallows again, and then, small and wavering, asks, "would you tell me again?"

and riz squeezes fabian's hand, involuntary, says, a tiny bit breathless,

"that i'm in love with you?"

and fabian nods imperceptibly, forehead still pressed against riz's.

so riz, with the conviction of a dead man, answers, "i'm in love with you."

and fabian inhales, sharply, before saying, "me too."

and then fabian kisses him.

and this isn't like the movies either, the tile is probably hard on fabian's knees, and riz has to crane his head to the side in his half laying down position, but fabian's mouth is warm and he tastes like coffee with so much sugar that it can't be called coffee anymore, and his hand that's not holding riz's comes to rest on the back of riz's neck, fingers threading into riz's curls.

riz pulls away, takes a deep breath, and says, "you mean that you're in love with me, and not that you're in love with yourself right?"

and fabian's face spreads into a smile and he laughs like sunlight that riz has barely seen in weeks, answers, "i'm in love with you, riz."

riz's voice is breathy and higher pitched than he would like as he says back, "cool cool cool. would you kiss me again?"

but as fabian goes to lean in again, he hears a voice from the doorway, the same nurse that took his vitals previously,

"he most certainly will not. your heart rate is way too fast for the amount of blood you lost young man."

sklonda is behind her, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

fabian goes to back away with his arms up in a surrender motion, but at the last second presses a kiss to riz's lime green cheek, before he backs away for real.

riz is already missing his presence as he meets sklonda at the doorway, where he finally breaks eye contact with riz to look her in the eyes. she puts a hand on his back to gently push him out of the doorway and into the hallway outside.

she says, annoyed in that way that means she’s not really annoyed but amused, “go get adaine. she’s been waiting for her turn for ten minutes, and if she waits any longer i can’t say in good conscience that she won’t murder you, and then we’d have an actual death on our hands.”

and sklonda turns back to riz, raises her eyebrows. riz raises his back, and she walks across the room to press a kiss to the corner of his head. the nurse rolls her eyes, mutters something about adventurers, and shuts the door on them.

#i actually have a ban on riz dies aus but i wanted the angst #what exactly happened to riz when he was in ''deep cover'' ?#fuck if i know #also shout out to @figaydas on twitter #for the leave it all to me fancam #that put the sleeper agent icarly/fh thought in my brain #inspiring the for till college bit #and also to mac <3 #all of you thank mac if not for mac @pastelmogar you would not be seeing this #bc again #i only ever post things when mac tells me to #fabriz #my writing

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creeperchild · 6 years

Text

Funtime Freddy x reader -Chapter 1 - The encounter

Note: This is my first Reader x Fanfiction. I got huge help from my beloved Girlfrien @thefredricus to correct my bad writing! She is such a huge help!

2nd part: https://creeperchild.tumblr.com/post/619663923427328000/funtime-freddy-x-reader-chapter-2-danger

Enjoy the reading and tell me what you think!

(y/n) = your name

(l/n) = last name

(y/a) = your age

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

You take a deep breath. This is your first day in the business called "Circus Baby's Pizza World". This place is pretty scary for you since you hate mannequins and robots.

You applied to the job WITHOUT knowing that they had animatronics in their company.

'How stupid am I?' you think to yourself as you step into the cold abyss of the building. Only a light on the ceiling flickers on your way to the elevator. You walk slowly towards it while staring fascinated at the walls to your right and left.

The dim light reveals drawings of children, how they play games, eat pizza or cake, or with... "Animatronics." slips out of your mouth while exhaling and a shiver runs down your spine. With shaking legs, you enter the small room that immediately closes the doors on you and traps you inside of it. You feel the movement of the elevator and a tablet pops up in front of you. It introduces itself as HandUnit. The yellow tablet speaks once again:"Please enter your name as seen above the keypad.

This cannot be changed later so please be careful." With those words a keyboard appears on the screen. You let out a sigh and closed your eyes for a moment.

Your name is (y/n). You are a (y/a) year old girl that really needs money after you graduated school. You wanted to move out and have your own life. As well with a new partner, since you are single. Let's just say your ex... was kind of a dick to you.

"Asshole..." parts your lips in a dying voice as you clench your fists together.

A voice snaps you out of your dreadful thoughts: "It seems that you had some trouble with the keypad. I see what you were trying to type, and I will auto-correct it for you. One moment. Welcome: Eggs Benedict."

You blink in confusion as the elevator stops at your destination. A cheerful music appears and fills the room instead of the silence. You hesitate as the HandUnit gives you the order to open the door of the elevator. The doors snap open and give you a heart attack. It reveals a lot of yellow tape with the words "DANGER" written on them, taped all over the exit of this god damn lift to hell. You suck air through your teeth and slowly crouch under the tape and towards the dark and small vent that offers you an entrance to your working place. It is barely enough space as you squeeze trough.

The air is hot and thick, and the vent seems to have no end. All of a sudden

HandUnit speaks again, way louder than in the elevator. You jump up, hitting your head on the vent. "ARGH!"

Covering the back of your head while mumbling swearwords, you listen to the loud and clear voice: "Allow me to fill this somewhat frightening silence with some light- hearted banter. Due to the massive success and even more-so the unfortunate closing of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, it was clear that the stage was set – no pun intended – for another contender in children’s entertainment. Unlike most entertainment venues, our robotic entertainers are rented out for private parties during the day, and it’s your job to get the robots back in proper working order before the following morning."

YOU NEED TO DO WHAT!? Your jaw drops as you hear what the voice says.

"That was NOT what the advertisement said!" you hiss slightly while checking if your head bleeds.

Finally. You enter the room where you are supposed to work. Slowly standing up, you notice you got a huge headache from the hit on your head. Great! Blinking and huffing, you examine the room that is finally exposed to you. Once more a shiver crawls up and you shudder. The room is flooded in a dirty green color. Monitors decorate the room, along with masks and small robots. Your body flinches as your eye catches the sight of them, holding your breath. Beside the creepy bullshit that you see are some desks, a clock, a fan and other small details that gives the room more character.

You try to calm down as the familiar voice is heard again: "You are now in the Primary Control Module. It’s actually a crawlspace between the two front showrooms. Now, let's get started with your daily tasks. View the window to your left. This is the Ballora Gallery Party Room and Dance Studio, encouraging kids to get fit and enjoy pizza. Let’s turn on the light and see if Ballora is on stage. Press the blue button on the elevated keypad to your left."

A keypad on your left lights up in two colors. Blue and red. The blue button has a noticeable light showing. You press it and a light shines outside on a spot with nothing else to be seen. "Uh-oh, it looks like Ballora doesn’t feel like dancing. Let’s give her some motivation. Press the red button now to administer a controlled shock. Maybe that will put a spring back in her step."

'Controlled shock? What the fuck is wrong with you guys?' You bite your lip as you eye the red button with the lightning bolt symbol. You may be scared of robots but you felt sympathy as well for them at that point. Either way it was your job and you didn't want to get fired already on the first day. A frown appears as you press the button quickly. A loud shock was to be heard and all of a sudden the lights go out.

Sitting in darkness some noises can be heard. Terrified as you are, you hold yourself to a wall in panic. "It seems that the power system cannot be restarted automatically. You will need to restart the power system manually.", the casual voice said.

All of a sudden you hear noises from the right vent of the room. The sound of metal hitting the vent grows closer, as well as your panic. Adrenaline shoots into your blood and your first thought is to crawl in the opposite vent towards Ballora's Gallery. Crawling through as quick as possible, you hold your tears back. You feel the vent ends here, but sadly enough not the darkness. The metal noise is getting even closer. Your only thought is 'run'.

You took a huge sprint into the unknown darkness as you follow the only navigation point you have. A bright light peeking through the door crack far ahead of you.

'Shit, shit, SHIT!' is the one thought that haunts your mind.

But before you reach the self-picked safe spot, something grabs your ankle and pulls you back into the dark void you try to escape from. You fall on your side and get violently dragged away. A small spark of a broken machine reveals the face of the attacker. You gasp as you see the young ballerina robot, crawling along the ground like a spider, its posture being impossible for a human. You only spit out the word:" MONSTER!" Fighting for your life, you try to kick the animatronic in its face and struggle and wiggle out of her grip. Your foot slips out of your shoe and as well out of her steel grasp. You take the chance and sprint towards the only lit room in this hellish place. You slam the door before the abomination reaches it, violently knocking and banging against the door. You press yourself against the door and slip down to end up curling into a ball, hiding your face into your legs. Tears drip down and sobs can be heard from your exhausted body. "I see you over there in the dark! C~Come on out!", a shrieking voice chirps. You lift your head and face a gigantic animatronic bear stepping closer towards you. Immediately you crawl away from him as far as possible. You press your body against the wall and eye the creature in front of you. The robotic bear has the main color of white and some parts with pink and purple. He owns a black hat and bowtie. His chest has a speaker and two buttons on it. His right hand wears a blue bunny puppet. A bowtie adorns the neck of the small robot as well, but in red. In his left hand he holds a microphone. One step after another he gets closer and grabs your wrist with his cold hand, dropping his microphone for the action. Lifting you up in the air by your wrist was no problem for him. A moan of pain escapes your throat as you in panic try to get slip out of his hand:" L-Let me go!". you cry out. The animatronic chuckle deep and amused:" W~why should I do that?" Now you can’t keep it back and start to cry in front of him. The puppet point at you as it speaks in its high-pitched voice, peeking at the bear: "Don't you see? The birthday boy is crying!" The big robot gasps dramatically and drops you harshly on the floor. He then turns away with his puppet and whispers to it. You rub your butt and you try to hold in the pain to not getting his attention again. You notice the thick tubes, dangling from the ceiling down the ground and crawl towards them, hiding between them while the two are still discussing. The both of them turn back around just to realise that you aren't there anymore. "B~Birthday b~o~oy? Where aaaaare you? ", he let out of his rather insane chuckle. You rub your wrist that is slightly injured by the freaky bear. A snarling could be heard: "Bonbon! We couldn't have lost him THAT EASY!" The bunny hissed in defence: "Why me? YOU are the one who scared them!" The bear lets out a sigh:"You~u are right... please find him!"

With those words the bunny separates himself from the stub of an arm and with a loud thump it falls to the ground. The puppet was laying for a second on the ground and didn't move an inch. "Is..he dead..?", you whisper to yourself as the motionless puppet lies close to you. Suddenly the head lifts up and spies you already in your hiding spot: "FOUND YOU!" You decide to leave your hiding spot and run out as the 'small' robot crawls towards you and tries to grab you. You try to open the door, but the bear is one step ahead of you and slams it closed with his free paw. Frozen in shock, the legless puppet reaches your legs and clings onto you as if his life depends on it. The bear uses his huge paw and grabs your face to pull it closer to his own. He eyes you closely in every angle possible. Your tear-filled face wasn't the most appealing at that moment, but why is he so focused? He opens his mouth, slightly and slowly. 'Is that my end? eaten by a robot?' is one of many thoughts and fears that goes through your body. "BONBON, THAT IS NOT A BOY! IT'S A BIRTHDAY GIRL!", he yells at the bunny, surprised. You aren’t sure if it's out of anger or happiness. The mechanic bear lets your head go, as well as the puppet your legs. Your fear in your face and the backing off signalises the big robot to not step closer. His ear drops slightly in shame and sadness as he speaks again:" I~I'm sorry that I might hurt you...!" He picks up the puppet and places it on his right arm again:" My name is Funt~time Freddy and this is Bonbon!", he gestures to the puppet. The puppet smiles and waves his arm from side to side: "Hello~!" Speechless as you are, you eye the named robot and can’t say a word. Funtime Freddy steps close and tries to grab your shoulder gently to get your attention. You flinch by the touch and tug your shoulder away from his hand. He pulls it back to his body and opens his mouth to speak. Before he can say something you drop on your knees and start to cry. Covering your face with your hands to hide it and not see him anymore, you let out a sob. Funtime kneeled down on one knee and huffed, slightly frustrated. "Everything is gonna be o-kay..!", speaks the bunny in a soft voice. You feel how he tries to rub your back in sympathy. You yank your elbow into Bonbon's face and try to get as much space between you and the animatronic as possible. Bonbon holds his nose in pain and says something muffled, probably inappropriate. Funtime Freddy is going to say something, but Bonbon interrupts him: "I-I'm fine! Don't you worry!", while still holding his noise and forcing a smile. After a while of silence, you slowly lift your head up from your knees and peek over to Funtime Freddy. He stares at you in silence and blocks the door by sitting in front of it, taking away the only way to escape. 'DAMNIT!' you think as you lay your head down again in silence. You notice that your body goes slowly limp, falling for the tiredness that overtook it. Your vision goes blurry and all over sudden black. You slowly gain your consciousness back as you feel something around you. It is fluffy and light, but you don’t bother to open your eyes to see it. Finally you remember in what situation you are in and snap open your eyes, realising a blanked was wrapped around you. Blinking in confusion you check if Funtime Freddy is still on the same spot: 'YEP! There he is...and still blocking the door!' You sigh in disappointment and eye him slightly more as your vision becomes more clear. He isn’t staring at you anymore. His head is hanging slightly down and his eyes are shut, while Bonbon is laying next to him. Both don’t move at all. Apparently they are in 'sleeping mode' or something. A slight smile crosses your lips before the harsh reality crashes down on you once more. You can't just move a 200 pound robot without waking him up or breaking your own back!! You hold the blanket close to you and curl up more in it. You wonder where this blanket came from or who tucked you in it. The only person who crosses your mind is the pink maniac in front you. You shake your head in disgust by the thought of him getting closer to you. You lift your arm to see what time it was.

2:48 am.

You wait in your new earned comfort blanket for the time to pass by. After half an hour it gets colder for some reason. You hide more and more in the fluffy blanket and bite your teeth together as you shake. You can’t help but whimper from the biting pain of the cold, reaching under the blanket.

The bear’s ear twitches and you can swear he was smiling for a split second before a deep and low humming sound comes from his chest. You opened your tired eyes slightly as the sound continues to hum.

A warm wave of slight heat hits you and you start getting curious. Crawling closer but holding back your whimper, you feel more warmth coming from him. The urge not to die by freezing forces you to get closer to the sleeping bear. You ignore your fear completely now.

Your fingers touches his chest lightly, the source of the sound, and you notice he doesn't feel cold anymore. He must have a heater inside of his system. Like in a trance you cling to the lifesaving warmth and lay against his chest.

Suddenly the two robotic arms of the bear snap around you and hold you in a firm grasp. You look up in fear. The bear glares down at you with a smile. You want to scream as the thought comes through that the heater is a trap. Tears drip down as you stare at him in shock. Not even a dying sound escapes your throat.

Before you can start sobbing he gently presses his index finger against your lips."shhhhh... You don't want to wake up Bonbon", he whispers gently as he looks to his beloved puppet friend, who is sleeping quite comfortably against his leg. You gulp and look up to him. He smiles gently and pulls you closer to himself. You squeak in surprise as he presses you closer to his chest.

You want to move, but you can’t. All what you could do is stare in silence. Funtime Freddy starts to hum a tune of your childhood memories while rocking slowly back and forth with you. Oddly enough, it soothes you and before you realised you became, once more, a victim of your tiredness.

You slowly open your eyes and stretch a bit. You slept really well. Looking up to Freddy, who was apparently already awake, examine something. Like a small card of plastic, holding it up towards the light to read it better.

He hasn’t noticed that you are awake and mumbles a bit:" Aha.. (y/n) (l/n) ... (y/a) years old... interesting.", he spoke with a big, goofy smile on his lips. WAIT A SEC-

You look around and you notice your purse next to him, open wide. You blush slightly as you remember it was in your back pocket of your jeans. 'Did he really look through my pockets while I slept?!'

You snap back out of your thoughts and stare Freddy down, till he notices you. He stares back with eyes open in surprise and the embarrassment of getting caught red handed.

He quickly hides the card behind the back of his metal body and speaks with a shaky voice:" O-oh, g~good morning (y/n)-". He realised he gave away the hint that he really stole your ID!

You stand up and immediately try to reach behind his back and snatch the card out of his hand. In response he lifts his left hand up in the air in hope you don't get the card, while still sitting on the ground, getting a bit nervous while blushing in embarrassment.

You try your best to reach for it, but he bends in a weird direction to make it harder for you. You try your hardest to get your personal information back as you accidentally push the bear over and fall on top of him.

One step closer to your goal!

You bend forward to get it.

Freddy squirms and tries to hold you away with his stump and flops on his belly and lets out exhausting noises: "g-get off of

me!" He squeaks more as your climb over his back to get back what belongs to you.

Your fighting stops as you hear knocking on the door and it opens right after. The small, legless bunny peeks in and stays quiet for a while before giggling: "What are you both doing here?" He looks amused. Both of you look at him, then to each other and again back to Bonbon.

You both quickly get off of each other and Freddy blushes worse than before and looks away.

"Aaaaanyways...", the puppet continues, rolling his eyes:" I got what you wanted, Freddy!" Bonbon nudges the door open with his tiny paw and pulls in a plate with some slices of pizza.

By the sight of it your stomach growls and you can’t keep your eyes away from it, since you didn't eat for over 12 hours now.

"Oh boy, she sure looks hungry!", chirps the blue one. Freddy picks him up and puts him back as his 'right hand' and hands you the plate with the delightfully smelling pizza:" Here you g~go! Knock yourself out!" You can’t help but smile as you sit down to give your attention to the greasy slices.

Bonbon takes the opportunity and whispers to Freddy: "You like her, don't you Freddy?" The bear looks quickly away as his cheeks warm up. Looking back at Bonbon with the most helpless glare gives him the clear answer. The Bunny raises and lowers his eyelids as a human would wiggle his eyebrows and smiles wide, signifying that he knows.

"BONBON!" shouts Freddy in embarrassment and scare you half to death. You hold your plate tight to you as you lower your head in fear. Funtime Freddy frowns and stutter even more than before, a bit ashamed of himself: "I-I-I'm sorry that I scared you (y/n)...just keep eating!" A nervous chuckle comes from him before he turns away again.

"If you don't tell her tonight that you like her, I will!", Bonbon says with the biggest smile on his face. Funtime Freddy growls at Bon: "Bonbon! You can't jus-"

He sighs and looks slightly to you:"F~fine..." A slight blush creeps up on his face. The small animatronic enjoys that Freddy is a mess and covers his snout with his tiny paws to let out a giggle. "Don't worry, you are not the only one who likes her!", his little friend speaks as he pats Freddy's back. Freddy eyes him as he raises an eyebrow. The bunny shrugs it off as he say:" She seems to be nice!"

All of a sudden Bonbon gasps and turns around to get your attention: "Hey (y/n)! How about you meet our friends! I bet they will be excited to see you!"

"What friends?", you spit out while eating the last bites of your pizza. He wiggles a bit and throws his arms up in the air in excitement: "Funtime Foxy, Ballora and Circus Baby of course! And others as well!" You swallow and look a bit oddly at them. Freddy shakes his head in agreement quickly and smiles a bit crooked and awkward.

He waddles towards you and offers you a paw to help you up. Slowly but unsurely you give him your hand and he pulls you up. You aren’t sure if you should trust him.

But after all what he did for you felt more relaxed around him and Bonbon. You could even say...enjoying his presence.

You hold his paw tightly as he opens the door and walks with you into the darkness.

#fanfiction #x reader #fnaf #five nights at freddys #Funtime freddy #bonbon #sister location #fnaf 5 #five nights at freddys 5 #cute #creepy #romance

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vriskaserbet · 6 years

Text

In the morning, you'll be dead.

Summary: Sammy is only focused on serving his Lord and the Lost Ones, troubled souls in need of constant attention and support, who look to him and his sermons as their only line of protection and comfort. So, when a strange new creature begins to leave ink trails everywhere, scaring the Lost Ones with their constant static noises; he decides to hunt them down to make things right.Of course, he didn’t plan on the creature recognizing him.

Rating: General audience.

Warnings: Character death, though not detailed nor is it a permanent character death.

Characters: Sammy Lawrence and Wally Franks!

Tags: AU, Object Head AU, Object Head! Wally, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Memory loss, this can be read as romantic/platonic as you wish!

Ao3 link: Right here!

The first signs were the ink trails.

Sammy, despite his comfort in his sanctuary, often traveled among the different floors, helping the Lost Ones, preaching his sermons and doing whatever else his Lord requested. Granted, his memory wasn’t perfect, but he had come to recall the floors quite vividly. He had to, if he wanted to survive. He knew everyone’s particular powers and their usual behaviors. Nobody, from the most mindless of searchers to his perfect Lord, ever left these trails.

They were someone new. Sammy couldn’t recall the last thing anything “new” occurred in the studio. It hurt his head too much.

They were on different floors, so whoever did it was always on the move. The trails were long, going through room after room without stop, with large black puddles always nearby. It was slightly dangerous, if he were to be honest. Too much of these trails and soon, the threat of being pulled back in would become a stronger possibility.

Thus, Sammy made his newest mission to find this mysterious creature and get them to stop, any means necessary.

Next, he received another sign. The studio tended to be relatively quiet, save for the usual ambience of the usual chattering and groaning of monsters and general machinery noises. Yet, very faintly, as Sammy continued on with his usual duties; he began to hear a new noise. Faint, static noises, almost like a broken tape recorder. He forced himself to stay put. He was a patient man, not one to jump head first into danger.

Though, perhaps they weren’t dangerous. Nearby creatures didn’t seem to be injured, nor could he find any corpses near the trails. The creature just seemed to keep getting stranger and stranger.

After some time, Sammy could no longer stay put, simply searching the aftereffects. The static noises came closer to where the Lost Ones lived. Immediately, they grew terrified, hiding deep within the shadows and held each other tightly, listening closely to the new sounds. He felt his heart drop at the sight, worried for the poor creatures.

So, to reassure them, he promised to find the creature and put an end to their behavior. Sammy prepared himself with an axe, in case of anything, and headed up the floors, following the endless trails; the noises becoming louder and louder as he did so.

He found himself in one of the quieter floors, ones that weren’t particularly plagued by ink creatures. Now, the creature was quite easy to track. He walked slowly in the hallways, trying to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible. He carefully rounded the corners of the hallway, as the ink became fresher and fresher, the noises now within perfect hearing range. Finally, as he went down one more hallway, he finally caught sight of the creature.

For a moment, a wave of familiarity washed over him. Then, it was quickly replaced by shock. The creature, a male, was not entrapped in ink! He could see it clearly, he had human flesh! Peering closer, he took in his other details. He was lanky, somewhat tall for a human but short compared to most people in the studio. He wore old, faded overalls, the bottom of his legs covered and stained with ink, still not cased into it like the others. He also wore a white, button up T-shirt, it to covered with numerous stains. He carried a mop, that was covered in fresh, drippy ink. To seemingly balance his normal body, his head was a large tape recorder. A somewhat busted tape recorder, with its tape pooled around the creature’s arm and body.

Sammy grimaced. Most likely, the creature had no way of seeing. He wasn’t even sure if he could hear.

The creature stopped in his tracks, using his mop to begin “cleaning” the floor. As he thought, the creature couldn’t see, clumsily moving his mop around as he walked into a nearby office, making a static noise of surprise as he bumped his body against the door.

Sammy decided to follow him, entering the office with purposely loud steps. The creature noticed immediately, whipping around with fear, the static growing louder as he turned his head around. Pathetically, he held his mop out, almost like a weapon.

“I won’t hurt you… friend,” Sammy told him, stepping closer to the creature. The creature paused and turned straight to face him, seemingly curious. He titled his head, staring.

Sammy spoke loudly, yet softly, trying to calm the thing down while still being legible. “You don’t have to worry. I’m just here to give you… a friendly warning, yes. Please correct me if I’m wrong, friend, but it seems as though you are unable to see. That’s just fine, we all have lost much here. It’s just that, your mop, it’s not covered in water. It’s covered with ink, so you’re tracking it everywhere. Perhaps you should put it away, dear friend—”

“Sammy.” He suddenly spoke, his voice rough from the aged recording. Sammy’s breath hitched. The two stared at each other for a long time, not able to say much. The creature’s grasp on the mop loosened and it fell to the floor.

“N-o. N-o.” the creature broke the silence, shaking his head. The ‘no’ sounded broken, saying more of the actual phonetics instead just saying ‘no.’ “N-o. No. No. No. NO.” his voice suddenly raised in volume, the quality glitching slightly. The ‘no’ sounded more organic now, finally put together.

“SAMMY. DIED.” Sammy’s breath hitched and was unable to speak. The creature continued for him, as his body began to tremble.

“SAMMY. DIED.” He repeated, his voice glitching as it continued to raise in volume. “NO! SAMMY! DIED! I’M SURE! I KNOW! I SEE BODY! B-L-OO-D EVERYWHERE. EVERYONE KNOW. I’M OUTTA HERE!” he held himself, shaking badly. “JOEY… JOEY! IN-V-ITE. M-E. LOCK. M-E. IN. MACHINE!”

With that, the creature let out an unbearably loud screech, one that had Sammy gripping the sides of his head. The creature let out glitched, broken words, smeared and mixed together. For a second, it almost sounded like he was sobbing. Snapped out of his fog, he came close to the creature and impulsively held him close to his chest. The creature squirmed in his hold, letting another scream out. Sammy held him tightly, not letting him go free.

“Ssshhh, ssshhh,” he quickly hushed, using a hand to stroke his back. “Please. It’s okay! I’m here. I’m alive and that’s okay.”

“SAMMY. DIED.” The creature replied. He stopped resisting and now, relaxed slowly into his arms. His head rested on Sammy’s shoulder, now wrapping his arms around his torso. “SAMMY. DIED…. Sammy… died…” his voice quieted down, though he still letting out garbled noises, his body shaking as he did so.

“Sammy… died… not… here… in… this… hell…”

Sammy let out a long sigh, patting the creature’s back. “I’m so sorry, friend. I don’t remember you. I really can’t. Being here for so long has… taken so much from me. But, that’s fine. Perhaps my Lord has put you here for a reason… whatever it is, we can do it together… say, do you remember… your name?”

“…W-A-L-L-Y.”

“Wally, huh? …It does sound familiar. Were we friends?”

Wally held him tightly. “…Mi-ss-ed… you…”

“…Me to,” Sammy said, rubbing his back again. Even if he barely remembered him, there was still a familiar sting to his name, his words, everything. Worse yet, he was a reminder of everything he had lost. Everything he knew, before he was trapped within the studio.

“Me to, Wally.”

“god damn it, why th’ hell am i so stupid…” wally cursed to himself, unlocking the studio to let himself inside. it was the middle of the damn night, so the studio was just as cold as the outside. wally, even with his heavy layers of a sweatshirt, a sweater and a hoodie, shivered.

“better find it quick, before i freeze to death…” sighing, he walked around the studio, turning the flashlight on. he checked all over the first floor, in the rooms he tended to sweep and clean the most, yet it still proved to be missing.

frowning, he went downstairs, to the music room. it was there he realized something odd, passing by the music room.

the door was slightly opened, with the lights turned on. he could see it pouring out of the small crack. for most people, they would automatically assume a burglar or something just as heinous; but wally knew his weird, kooky coworkers. with his luck, he would open the door to see everybody around a pentagram circle, trying to summon satan. though, he kept his flashlight in his hands, ready to beat any burglars head in, just in case one was dumb enough to raid a failing animation studio.

he sighed, opening the door. “look, i ain’t here for no trouble, have you seen my wallet—”

sammy’s dead body laid in the middle of the music room. blood pooled around him, splatters of blood all over the instruments. all over the walls. it was a horrible, awful sight.

“sammy?” wally said standing still. he blinked. sammy didn’t move. sammy didn’t breathe.

in the back, he could hear the projector reels still rolling.

his breath went shaky and his eyes became wet. with a tremble in his voice, he asked again, “sammy—”

credit to the inspiration for this story + wallys design is right here!

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #BATIM #Sammy Lawrence #Wally Franks #UWAH its been a HOT minute since i posted here apologizes!#i want my boys to be OKAY pls

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harryspirate · 6 years

Text

A Love Story? - A Harry Styles Imagine Part 3

So here is part 3 of this series. I apologize profusely for the long delay with this part. I started a new job that has me working ridiculous hours. I basically go to work, come home, and collapse into my bed. I hope it was worth the wait. I actually made myself tear up with this part--gotta love the angst! This is the end of main part of the story. I only planned to do a year. Let me know if you want an epilogue. @kissme-hs I hope you liked your requested story, babe!

October

The steady beeps coming from the machine across from you were the only noise in the sterile room. Your back is stiff from the hours that you’ve sat in the wooden chair pulled up close to bed, but you don’t notice as you stare at the still boy lying in the bed. His face was almost as pale as the white pillowcase, but still the beauty of his features shines through, despite the dark circles underneath his eyes. In his stillness you see a sense of peace that’s been missing from him during the past few months. Not that you had seen him very much—in person anyway. It seems that he was always in the tabloids these days or on celebrity gossip shows. Those were all things he’d hated in the past, but it seemed as if he thrived on them now.

Partying, feuding with other celebrities, fighting with paps, not to mention all the speculation about his love life. It’s been one thing after another since the two of you split. And now this. Never, not in a million years had you imagined you would get a call like the one you received two hours ago.

It’s your day off, so you were spending it catching up on laundry and cleaning your flat. It’s been quiet all day, so you’re a bit startled when your phone starts ringing. You don’t recognize the number, so you almost ignore it and let it go to voicemail. However, your boss is traveling, so the thought that it could be her calling on someone else’s phone has you pressing the greet button to connect the call.

“Hello?”

“Yes, this is Theresa at St. Mary’s Hospital. May I speak to Y/N?”

Your heart speeds up. Why would a hospital be calling you? What if something’s happened to Chrissy or Lauren. “This is Y/N,” you reply. “Has something happened?”

“Yes, a Harry Styles was brought into the A&E this evening,” she tells you.

You’re brought out of your thoughts when you hear a slight groan from Harry. You watch as his eyelids flutter and his eyes slowly open, squinting at the bright, fluorescent lights. He’s clearly confused.

“You’re at St. Mary’s,” you tell him. “They brought you in a couple of hours ago.”

His brows furrow. “W-w . . . you?” he says and you understand that he’s wondering why you’re here.

“Apparently, I’m still your emergency contact. You never changed it,” you explain in a tired voice. “I called your mother. She and Gemma are driving down as we speak. They, um, they should be here soon.”

Neither of you speak for a few minutes—an uncomfortable silence fills the room. Finally, you ask the question that has been nagging at you ever since the nurse called you.

“What were you thinking, Harry?” Your voice is much sounds loud in the otherwise quiet room—fear, worry, and anger mix together to make your words come out much sharper than you had intended. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. “If your housekeeper hadn’t come in today, you’d be . . . you could have . . .”

The words stick in your throat. You’d been stunned when the doctor had talked to you about Harry’s condition. Acute alcohol poisoning. Traces of opioids. Nearly fatal.

Harry drops his head back the pillow and closes his eyes. “Where’s Will?” he asks, not wanting to answer your questions.

“He’s banned from the hospital,” you tell him. “Your mother and I have your medical proxy, remember? You weren’t able to make your own decisions, so it fell to me until your mother arrives.”

He glares at you. “What the hell, Y/N? What gave you the right-“

You cut him off. “You gave me the right, Harry! It’s been months since we broke up, but you never changed your medical paperwork. Maybe it was a coincidence, but I know you and I know that you’ve always stayed on top of things, so some part of you must have wanted someone other than that man to have control over this part of your life. Some part of you knew that what he was doing wasn’t good for you. Some part of you must have known that you need help. So, look me in the eye right now and tell me that I’m wrong and I’ll have them lift the ban right now.”

Before he can answer, the door flies open and Anne and Gemma rush into to room. They are both clearly upset and hurry over to Harry’s bedside. You hear the low murmur of his voice reassuring them as you slip quietly from the room. Harry’s family has arrived and they are the ones who should take care of him. You have no place here. Not anymore.

November

You’re sitting in the terminal at Heathrow waiting to catch your flight home for Thanksgiving. The sound of Harry’s name draws your attention to the television mounted on the wall next to you.

Pop star Harry Styles, the former One Direction heartthrob, left a private rehab facility early yesterday morning. The Sign of the Times singer entered treatment shortly after being rushed to the hospital for undisclosed reasons last month. Hazza’s current whereabouts are unknown, but we hope that wherever he is he knows that we’re all pulling for his recovery and wish him the best.

In related news, Styles’ former manager, Will Preston has been arrested and charged with embezzlement and fraud in Los Angeles, California today. We’ll have more details as the story develops.

After you’d left the hospital, Gemma had called to thank you for taking care of Harry until they could get to the hospital. She’d also told you that the family and Harry’s closest friends, including Louis, Liam, and Niall had held an intervention convinced him to get the treatment that he needed. They had asked you to participate in the intervention, but you had felt it was best for you to stay away. The only thing you had heard from Harry was a simple text that said, Thank you, H xx.

You are glad to know that he’s on the road to recovery. Although the break up had been harsh. You harbor no ill will towards him. How could you now that you have some idea of what had been going on with him.

You hear the announcer call for your flight to start boarding, so you pick up your carryon and head towards the gate, knowing that there is plenty to be thankful for this year.

December

You sit in the back of the taxi as it heads towards your cozy flat. You’d had a lovely visit with your family in the States, but you’re glad to be back to your life here. When the car pulls up outside your building, you pay the driver and pick up your carryon, pulling your suitcase behind you. You stop short when see a figure sitting on the floor beside your door. You frown until he lifts his head and you see the face underneath the newsboy cap.

“Harry?” you say, surprised to see him.

He smiles ruefully as he unfolds his lanky body from the floor. “Hi,” he says, scratching the back of his neck—a clear sign that he’s nervous and/or unsure of himself. “I, uh, Niall told me that Lauren mentioned you were coming back today. Just didn’t specify a time.”

“What are you doing here?” you ask him bluntly. You wince as his face falls. “I’m sorry that was rude. Would you like to come in?”

You move to the door and he has to shift out of the way so you can unlock it. You’re very aware of his proximity to you and you can clearly smell the familiar scent that you associate with Harry and only Harry.

It’s only when you’re both inside that you notice the bouquet of flowers that must have been sitting on the floor beside Harry. You were so shocked to see him that you hadn’t even noticed them.

“Oh! These are for you,” Harry says, holding them out to you. “A small thank you for what you said at the hospital. I wasn’t completely in the best frame of mind, but your words stuck with me.”

“You didn’t have to, but these are my favorites, so I’m not gonna turn them down,” you say, moving towards your small kitchen to get a vase. “Can I get you some tea or coffee? I won’t have much else since I’ve been gone for a while, but I think I have some of those biscuits you like.”

Harry chuckles and scratches the back of his neck again. “Tea would be good. Thanks, love, um, Y/N.”

Once you’ve put the flowers in water and prepared the tea, the two of you move to the sofa. “So, now, I really have to know what brings you here. I mean, it’s so good to see you up and about. It was so scary seeing you in that hospital bed. But, you didn’t have to come all the way across town to thank me.”

“I know,” he says quietly. “I mean, I am thankful, but that’s not why I’m here or at least it’s only partly why I came. I also owe you an apology. No, scratch that. I owe you a thousand apologies, Y/N/N.” He looks at you and you can see the sorrow reflected in his eyes.

“I treated you horribly those last few months and I don’t have any excuses, but I would like to explain. Well, obviously, you know that I got mixed up in some things that I shouldn’t have. I let Will get into my head and he filled it with a bunch of nonsense. I mean, first he was telling me that you had been contacting him and demanding more money to buy yourself things, but you didn’t want me to know. I mean, he had proof, which I now know was fake because he was just covering up the money he was stealing from me.”

You are shocked. You had no idea that Will had accused you of anything, let alone demanding money from Harry. “You believed him, Harry?” the hurt is evident in your voice.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t want and I didn’t at first, but, like I said, he showed “proof” and then you got a job and he just twisted that into more evidence that you valued money more than me. And every time you couldn’t take time off to travel with me, he twisted it. And he kept hinting that you were cheating with some guy from your office and you kept talking about your co-worker. And yeah, now I know that you were just excited about your new experiences, but I was so messed up back then that I just used that as evidence that what Will was telling me was true. I’m so sorry that I doubted you. And I’m even more sorry that I ruined your birthday. I know that it’s something that is really important to you and I messed it up, so this is what I had planned to give you.”

He hands you an envelope. You open it up and smile at the card with the cute puppy on the front. Your eyes widen when you see what’s inside the card. “Hamilton tickets!” you say happily. “You did pick up on my hints!” For months, you’d walked around the house singing the songs and talking about the play.

“You weren’t exactly sublte, Y/N/N,” he chuckles. “The tickets are for the final performance. I hope it lives up to your expectations. I’m just sorry-“ he breaks off that train of thought. He would have loved to have seen it with you, watching your reactions more than the actual show, but he’d blown his chance.

“I won’t keep you, love, but I just want you to know one more thing.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. He’s about to lay everything on the line, even though he knows that there’s no hope. “There are many, many things from this past year that I regret, Y/N/N, but none of them compare to how much I regret fucking up my relationship with you. You made me happier than I can remember being at any other time in my life. I have to live with that, but please know that I wish you nothing but the happiest life out there. You deserve that and so much more, love.”

He starts to get choked up and so do you. He steps closer and stares at your face like he’s trying to memorize every detail. Lifting his hand, he cups your cheek and gently strokes your face with his thumb before leaning forward and pressing his lips to your forehead, letting them linger there for a moments before whispering a quick, Bye, Y/N/N, and walking quickly out the door.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic #one direction fic #harry styles #tw: drinking #tw: drugs #1d imagines #1d imagine #one direction angst #1d angst

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shadowolf19 · 6 years

Text

[Fic] I Can’t Do Anything Now That You’re Gone

Words: 3918 Fandom: Marvel Sub-fandom: Earth 616 Genre: Angst, Dramatic, Introspective Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Rating: M Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Death, Missing Moments, One Shot, Notes: First fill for my Stony Bingo card (prompt “hurt/comfort”) which is on at cap_ironman (and will be until the end of the month). It's set right after Civil War ends and basically during Captain America: The Death Of The Dream in which Cap gets shot. Had to tinker a bit about him dying during the ambulance ride for obvious narrative purposes but it's explained in the fic anyway. My friend @jetblackfeeling also asked me to write something angst with a major character death so I combined the two since we have it in canon thanks to Civil War. This is for him <3

His phone rings once again. It has barely stopped since this morning, and it’s only 11am. This is going to be a hell of a long day.

“Mr. Stark?”

“What now?”

“There’s been a shooting, sir.”

He sighs deeply. He doesn’t have time for this.

“So what? Look who’s available and—“

“It’s Captain America, sir.”

At first Tony doesn’t think he has heard it right. It can’t be. It’s Steve, come on.

“What do you mean, Captain America?”

“He’s been shot, sir. On his way to the federal courthouse.”

Suddenly his ears start ringing. He squeezes his eyes as if to push that noise away, but he knows it’s only in his mind. He takes a deep breath before answering, a desperate attempt to steady his shaky voice.

“Who’s with him?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t told.”

“Do you know where are they taking him?”

“Mercy Hospital, sir.”

He hangs up without even thanking him. His head is aching but is nothing compared to the sting of dull pain he feels in the left part of his chest.

∞

It takes a while, but eventually his brain starts gearing up again whilst a helicopter is flying him to the hospital. With the sniper still at large, possibly ready to strike again, he decides the only smart thing to do is to let the world believe the person who did it… succeeded. He can’t bring himself to say the exact words out loud, even if he really should. Because doing it would mean entertaining, even just as a mere possibility, that idea, and sorry, he’s not doing it, not now, not ever. Steve is Steve, right? He’s America’s one and only super soldier. He’s been around for nearly a century. A stupid and insignificant human mercenary is not going to do much damage now, is it? What a nonsense. Time I get to the hospital he’s gonna be up and wanting to be escorted to the courthouse again. Yeah, that’s what going to happen. He knows it. But he’s going to make sure that Steve is well rested and looked after for at least a couple of days before he lets him out of the doctors’ sight again, no matter how hard Roger will try and protest. That will also give them the chance to catch the perpetrator and make sure they don’t see the light of day ever again. He might even try and push for the death penalty. Sure, Washington doesn’t have it anymore, but hey, special occasions call for special measures, right? That’ll teach all those bastards a lesson, so they’ll think it over before h—

“Sir? We’re here.”

The pilot’s voice sounds so remote to his ears that for a moment he doesn’t understand where it’s coming from; he gives a little pat on her shoulder as a thank you, then steps out of the helicopter and follows the agent greeting him inside, where they’re joined by the hospital’s head physician.

“How bad?” he asks, even if he doesn’t want to hear it, not one bit. Not before he sees him, at least.

“He’s suffered severe damage to his c—“

“In English, thank you.”

They stop in front of Steve’s room, and the doctor steps in front of him, giving a deep and penetrating stare that makes the whole of Tony’s body grow limp in a second, so much so that he has to lean a hand against the wall to stay on his feet.

“The truth, sir?”

“Do you think I’ve got time for anything else?”

“If he was a regular guy, he wouldn’t even have made it to the hospital.”

“But he’s not now, is he?”

“No, but sir, you have to un—“

“Is he conscious?”

“Not right now, we had to sedate him. Sir, if I may…”

“I’m going in. You.” He gestures to the agent who was trying real hard to blend in with the wallpaper, obviously without succeeding. “Make sure this whole floor is free, I don’t want anyone else around, okay? Have I made myself clear?”

“Yessir” the guy replies, giving him an unnecessary military salute for all good measure.

“Hey, you can’t just do t—“ the doctor protests, looking at him as if he was insane. Which he probably is, right now. How could I not be?

“I can, and I’m doing it. If you don’t like it, you can take it up to my superior. He’s the President of the United States.” he replies tersely, and ignoring the expression of disbelief on the other man’s face, he opens the door and gets inside the room, closing the door behind himself and locking it.

There’s a perforating smell of dirt and blood in the air, the light is dimmed and the only sound he hears is the blip of the cardio machine recording Steve’s heart rate. So slow and sporadic that you could think it’s not working at all. Tony takes a deep breath and gets near the bed, his throat growing tighter with each step forward that he takes. The blood from the wounds – how many he’s terrified of actually counting – has irremediably stained the blue and white parts of his uniform, so that now it’s only different shades of red. You’re gonna need a brand new one, Captain. Tony desperately wants to throw up, not only the three cups of coffee he’s drank today so far, but possibly his own soul too, or what there is left of it. Probably not a lot, after all that’s happened recently.

“My god, Steve…” he whines, fighting back some unwanted wetness that has been gathering in his eyes.

There’s a chair by the bed on which he lets himself slide down onto, staying like that for whole minutes, silent and still, unable to do anything else except for staring at Steve. At the fucking mess he himself has contributed to create.

Slowly, as if it had a brain of its own, one of his hands slips gently on the other man’s, leaning on it and crossing their fingers together. Tony looks at them as if he was truly mesmerized at what has just happened, and at the same moment he blinks, letting a couple of tears run down freely against his cheeks. He brings Steve’s hand on his lips to leave a kiss on its back, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths to calm himself down, to at least restore some of his composure. Or trying to.

“C-Careful to not let… Sharon s-see you…” a voice – his voice – says all of a sudden, and Tony has to really keep himself from screaming out loud now. He ventures a look at Steve, trying to smile despite it all but falling short in his attempt. He snuffles then, quick to hide any trace that could spur the rumors that he is indeed, after all, irremediably human. Tony can’t allow that to happen, not today, not in the nearby future. Not when there are so many things to discuss and settle; not when he’s the only one both the public and the government can rely upon. As if.

“Hey old man… You gave everyone quite the scare out there…” he replies, his lips still against Steve’s hand, as if keeping it there would actually help things to get better, his wounds to heal.

“W-Who?”

“Still no clue, but we’ll get them. We always do.”

Steve puts the oxygen mask back on his mouth and closes his eyes, but lets his hand being held by Tony, who seems unable to move from that position. Or to find some meaningful words to say.

And it’s not because he doesn’t know what he would like to say, on the contrary. There are so many damn things he only wishes he could express out loud, but they all seem… wrong somehow. ‘I’m sorry’ would be the first one obviously, because that’s always how you’re supposed to start, right? And don’t get him wrong, he is sorry, of course he is, even if this is not his fault, not really, but the point is, he should have said it earlier, when there was still time to contain the situation. Now, it would sound like something you say just because, and that’s not really how he operates.

Next, he would probably say that he wants to sneak Steve out of the country somehow, because when he got the call earlier today he felt his heart crumble and like the most powerful alarm in the world had just woke him up from some sort of hypnosis, and now both the world and his own life are a mess and the only solution he can think of is making him disappear for a while so that he has time to work everything else out. But Steve would protest and spit some patriotic bullshit out of his mouth, which is not a discussion he’s willing to have right now, not when the other man is in these critical conditions. So that’s another pass.

Then he would probably beg him for forgiveness, which is not the same as apologizing, because while the latter would be professional, the former is… personal. It wouldn’t be Iron Man or the Director of SHIELD going back on his steps; it would be Tony Stark asking Steve Rogers for a second chance, a do-over, a chance of redemption for all the mistakes he’s made regarding them, all of these years. He could probably lead with this, now that he’s thinking about it.

He takes a look around the room to see if there are any cameras recording; it appears to be none, so he’s about to open his mouth and pour his heart out when Steve beats him to it.

“Why… didn’t we s-stop… before it got this… bad, Tony?”

Hearing his name slurred out in such pain hurts his heart more than the truth contained in his other words does. He turns to look at Steve, kissing his hand again, and runs his fingers through his short, blonde hair now sticky on the account of sweat and blood, sighing before answering: “Because at the end of the day, we were both foolish enough to believe the other would come around. And when neither of us did, we were just too damn proud to admit it wasn’t worth it.”

Steve tries to smile, but it’s so tiny and fragile that Tony has to look away: “We are… a couple of i-idiots, you… you know that, right?”

“That’s the understatement of the century, Cap.”

Steve’s smile grows a bit now and it becomes lighter, giving Tony the smallest flicker of hope in his heart; he stands up and heads to the sink nearby, fishing a handkerchief from his pocket and letting some cold water on it before going back to his seat. He moves the chair closer to the bed and then carefully and gently starts cleaning up Steve’s face, trying to be as delicate as he possibly can.

“Tony…”

“Shut up and let me do this. I can’t stand looking at you covered in your own blood like this. I’m gonna fire all of the nurses in this dump of a hospital, I swear to god…”

Steve sighs but doesn’t add anything else, mostly because he doesn’t have the energy to argue, but also because he seems to enjoy the other man’s dedication, or at least that’s what Tony hopes.

It takes some time – and a couple more of handkerchiefs – but eventually he manages to get all the crusty blood off Steve’s face. He knows it does nothing for the wounds, nevertheless he thinks it makes him more… himself, and maybe that could help him on a psychological level. He has no clue really, but at this point it doesn’t really matter to him. And maybe it’s just his mind playing tricks on him, but when Steve talks again, his voice sounds somewhat stronger.

“What… are we gonna do now?”

There it is, the question he has been thinking about nonstop for the past few hours. He knows what his ideal solution would be (“Fancy a holiday, Steve? I’d visit during weekends!”), but alas, that’s not even worth bringing up, he already knows what the reply would be. So he goes for the third down his list, the more practical and – in certain aspects – legal.

“I’ve already contacted the best defense lawyer in the US, he’s studying the case as we speak. You won’t be charged. It’s gonna be a tough and maybe lengthy process, but you’re not going to be in jail for any of it. And eventually, you’ll win.”

“You can’t… know that for sure…” Steve replies, smiling softly nevertheless. Tony’s heart skips a beat.

“Oh believe me, you will.” he says, adding a small wink that was begging him to come out.

Steve shakes his head to himself, and Tony knows in any other occasion he would be protesting, claiming that it’s not fair, that he doesn’t want special treatment or anything of the likes, that he can’t just fluttering his money around to make problems go away.

For sure Steve is about to reply something along those lines as he lifts up the oxygen mask from his mouth and pulls it on the side, but this time is Tony who beats him to it, leaning his lips on his and leaving a small kiss on them, closing his eyes and staying there, unable to let them (or him) go. Much to his surprise, not only Steve doesn’t turn his face away, but he even returns the kiss, one of his hands leaning against Tony’s unshaved cheek.

As his mouth receives a taste of metallic blood and artificial air, Tony’s defenses start to quietly crumble down, and before he knows it he’s crying silent tears that drip on Steve’s face as if they were sharing a secret bond that no words could ever manage to fully describe. They kiss again, and this time when their mouths part Steve is actually smiling in what seems like the first real time in a long while.

“Never thought… I’d see you cry, Shellhead” he whispers, and Tony wants so desperately to laugh it off and tease him and act normally because he knows that’s what Steve needs right now. But he can’t, no matter how much his brain is screaming at him, it’s his heart the one in control at the moment. All he manages is sobbing out loud, turning away as hearing his own grotesque wails, muttering a “For fuck’s sake” under his breath, embarrassed and guilty and ashamed. He stands up and rubs his eyes, swallowing hard, trying to stop. He hates himself.

When he manages to stop, eventually, he sits back down, shaking his head as much to himself as at Steve, not knowing how to follow up on his remark. Once again, the other man is the one breaking the silence, quite remarkable if you think he’s the one fighting for his life.

“Tony?”

“I… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

But Steve shakes slightly his head and painfully stretches a hand out to catch Tony’s: “Do you still love me?”

Tony blinks, and for the second time today he thinks he hasn’t heard the words right. He didn’t just ask me that, did he? He lifts his gaze on Steve, finding a dead-ass stance in his blue eyes now. He actually did.

“I’ve never stopped…” he mumbles, the simplicity of his words the only way to express such pure feelings. And although is so terrified of hearing the answer, he has to ask the question back: “Do you?”

“I’ve never… stopped.”

They smile at each other, and for a moment it’s like nothing has happened between them and they’re not in a stinky and cold hospital room where one of their lives is hanging by a thread. For a moment they are back at the mansion, sitting next to each other on the sofa in front of the TV, waiting for everyone else to go to sleep so they can cuddle and kiss and make love to forget about fighting criminals and evil masterminds and feel wholesome again. Then Steve starts coughing, his heart rate slightly increases and so does the blip on the monitor, and the moment passes but Tony doesn’t want to let it go, because the reality they live in now sucks and it could even get worse just with a snap of fingers.

He stands up, sits on the edge of the bed and before Steve can say anything to try and stop him he’s lying down next to him with slow and delicate movements, trying not to brush against his wounded body. When he sees the other man lifting up the mask again, he pushes it gently down and shakes his head.

“Not a word. You need to rest, and I don’t want to let you go.”

Steve mouths a ‘thank you’ before closing his eyes, and Tony leaves a kiss on his cheek, grateful for not having to provide further explanation. He wouldn’t have wanted to say that he’s so scared of seeing him slipping away right in front of his eyes that he figured, if he just held him tight, Death wouldn’t manage to steal him away from him. And not because he believes he’s invincible or what – if today proved anything is that nobody really is, at the end of the day – but because don’t they say that love conquers all? Soppy as it is, Tony hopes with everything he’s got that it’s true. The alternative is too terrifying for him to even think about it.

∞

Although it hadn’t been his intention, he ends up falling asleep a few hours after Steve, swiftly dozing off in an unconscious sleepiness, the result of too many nights spent awake since this crisis started. He doesn’t know how long he’s been out, but it’s the incessant and frantic blip of the monitor that eventually wakes him up, immediately followed by the deep panic that quickly gathers control of his body.

“Steve?” he says tentatively, and when there’s no reply his instincts click in and make him jump out of the bed to hurry to the door. He unlocks it and starts screaming, a desperate howl echoing in the empty hallway: “Help! Someone help!”

The head physician comes running towards him straightaway, and Tony realizes that the machine must be connected to a computer in the doctors’ lounge.

“Did anything happen?”

“I-I don’t know, I… fell asleep” he replies, feeling stupid and useless and guilty whilst his heart is racing way too fast.

“Okay… Stay here” the doctor tells him, hurrying inside.

But Tony has no intention of obeying, so he follows the stream of nurses in the room, standing aside as to not obstruct their maneuvers. Steve, please… You can’t do this to me… I need you to be with me, look what happens when we’re not together. Steve…

There are too many people in the room now, too many noises all around the bed, not enough space. Tony feels like he’s suffocating. He can’t spot Steve anymore under all those white coats and that makes everything ten times worse. Then the heart rate machine grows silent, the voices louder and Tony’s ears start ringing as if someone was dragging their sharp fingernails across a smooth surface. He only manages to hear random words: “Cardiac arrest”, “ECG” and “paddles”, followed by ever increasing numbers shouted in the air. He covers his face to try and filter at least some of the noise out, but with little result; soon enough, his own body goes into safe mode and he just stays there, not able to think or move, for god knows how long.

It’s only when the head physician starts shaking him by his arms that he opens his eyes again, regaining a sense of himself and his surroundings.

“I’m sorry, sir. I did the best I could” the doctor tells him in a low voice of one who has been delivering bad news for far too long. When he looks beyond him Tony sees a procession of nurses silently making their way out of the room. He knows what’s happened, it really doesn’t take a genius to figure it out, but all the same, he needs to ask, he needs to hear it.

“What do you mean, you’re ‘sorry’? What’s going on?”

“Steve Rogers… Captain America is dead, sir.”

“No. That can’t be.” He moves past the doctor and approaches the bed. Steve is still there, his body warm to the touch. “How long have you tried CPR for?”

“More than enough. Five minutes and counting.”

“Do ten, for fuck’s sake! He’s a super soldier, don’t you know that?!”

The doctor gives him a comforting smile followed by an amicable pat on his back: “I’ll give you a moment.”

Tony nods and holds his breath as if he was underwater until the man leaves the room and closes the door behind; the silence explodes between the walls and inside of him, and all he can do is dropping on his knees, shaking as he begins to sob and cry as quietly as he can.

∞

Ten minutes go by before he is eventually able to pull himself together and leave Steve’s side, shambling his feet outside the room, his eyes red and swollen, feeling old and weary. The head physician stops talking to a nurse as soon as he sees him and approaches him, looking at him. Tony doesn’t return his gaze, fixed on the pavement.

“What do we do now, sir?”

“I’ll give instructions to collect… We need…” words just keep escaping him, he doesn’t know how to do this, he doesn’t know if he can do this. This is too much. “He can’t… stay here. I’ll make arrangements. I’ll let you know as soon as I have a plan. In the meantime… four agents will guard the room, nobody in or out except for you. As of now, this whole building is in lockdown. All of the other patients’ visits are suspended for the time being. I hope you understand.”

The doctor nods, and Tony is relieved that he doesn’t have to fight about this. “What about… family? Did he have a partner?”

His partner was there when he died, he thinks, but of course he can’t say it out loud. “I’ll take care of that too.” he sighs, and there’s enough fatigue and anguish in those words for the man in front of him to take his leave.

He had me, and I let him down. We could have talked it out, but we decided to fight instead. All of these years together, and still we let something come between us.

Tony shakes his head and snuffles, having to fight another wave of tears from coming out. There will be no more evenings on the sofa, no more fighting side by side, no more sneaking out in the middle of the night to go sleep in the other’s bed. Steve is gone, and Tony is partially responsible for that, and the guilt is going to eat him alive, he can feel it already.

I was his partner, he was my soulmate and I was his home. But we never told anyone, and now he’s gone, and I’ll just be the guy whom everyone will blame for it.

Steve Rogers is dead, and I think I am too.

#SteveTony #Stony Fic #Stony #steve x tony #Steve Rogers #Tony Stark #My Fic

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