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saerins · 1 year

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─── 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 4.7k | content: fluff (i promise), slight insecurities, comfort, 5 times he says yes and 1 time he says no

notes: ok ok so guys !! i know i’ve been posting angst recently so i offer you comfort sae !! <3 this man has my entire heart so i’m just gonna embrace it hehe may or may not have been thinking of ‘daylight’ when i wrote this .

summary: the way sae loves you is beautiful. it’s nothing like you envisioned and something you never knew you needed.

“be my girlfriend, then, idiot.”

he’s handsome, seventeen.

even more handsome when he’s on the field, being the beast you know he is. he dribbles past everyone like they’re robots, like they’re snails. he gets into the penalty area and scores, and everyone in the stand cheers.

if there’s one common knowledge in your high school, it’s that itoshi sae is one of the world’s best soccer players.

maybe it’s no wonder that you’re holding a bag full of gifts for sae for valentines, being assistant manager for your school’s soccer team. it’s astounding how heavy this bag is. but you’ll know that in the end, whatever’s inside will likely get distributed between the entire team anyway, given how sae never accepts a single one.

“is it that time of the year again?” sae sighs, squirting water from his bottle into his mouth, towel hanging around his neck as he walks out of the locker room shirtless, fresh after a shower and hair all damp, sticking to the sides of his face.

still handsome.

“would it kill you to accept at least one of them?”

you expect one of his usual retorts—maybe a yes or a one of them could be poisonous. but instead, he grabs the bag from you, still frowning. “fine then,” he says, opening the bag and peering inside before he turns his gaze back onto you, “which one’s from you?”

the one with the purple post-it attached to sae’s favourite candy bar.

“i didn’t give you any, itoshi,” you lie, keeping your calm and crossing your arms. but sae cocks a brow because he doesn’t believe you. “really!”

“yeah, you sure about that?” sae’s tone takes a surprisingly gentle turn, and you find it hard to get used to. especially when it’s coupled with an amused expression.

“really, i’d die before giving anything to a grump like you.”

sae nods his head like he doesn’t believe you and starts rifling through the contents. he takes something out—a candy bar with a purple post-it attached to it. you can’t escape from him even if you tried.

“you’re the most irritating smart handsome guy i know, i hope you make it to the big leagues, i’ll never get tired of watching you play,” sae reads out loud, monotonously because it’s his way of mocking you. his gaze shifts from the note up to you, and he has his answer by your unwillingness to meet his eyes. “slick.”

“oh, shut up,” you tell him before turning on your heels and walking off.

“you want me so bad.”

“you wish, itoshi sae.”

“hey, take the rest of these away from me,” sae calls after you, referring to the big bag of valentines’ gifts you’d just left him with.

you turn around, walking backwards. “i’m not your girlfriend, itoshi, not my job!”

sae smirks. “be my girlfriend then, idiot.”

taken off guard, you fail to watch where you’re walking and fall over a broom, knocking several of the janitor’s stuff over. sae runs over, straight-faced while he holds his hand out to you.

“damn klutz,” he remarks as he pulls you up on your feet.

you’re thankful sae’s not the kind to make jokes like how he swept you off your feet, but the close proximity is making you giddy, in a good way, and you’re not sure you want to pass up on that.

“so?”

“so what, itoshi? and let me go,” you say, trying to pull away from him. he doesn’t let go though.

“say yes, then i’ll let go,” he tells you, and you can feel his breath fanning your lips and you’re sure he’s having a field day watching you get flustered.

“sure you want me, itoshi sae?” because a part of you finds that hard to believe, with the way he rejects other girls left and right and barely feels any remorse.

but what you don’t know is how different you are to him. if he dare say, special. maybe it’s the way you’ve always seemed like the stubborn kind, the kind of girl that refuses to ask for help but secretly wants to be protected. the kind of girl who can always help herself, but kill him if he thinks you’re someone who wouldn’t mind having someone to lean on.

maybe at some point, he started to want to be that person for you. no matter how many times you scream his name for not complying to schedules, no matter how many times you flip your hair against his face. you have everyone on the soccer team on a leash, and most of all sae.

that’s the first time he tells you—yes, he wants you.

“not even if you bribe me.”

at nineteen, sae’s serious about you.

it’s no secret that he’s devoted—you can feel it. because sae isn’t the type to profess his love every day, no. he’s the kind that shows it through his actions, through the way he automatically carries your shopping for you, through the way he always takes your side in public, through the way he looks at you whenever you’re talking.

you have no doubt about it. it doesn’t even cross your mind that he might stray. yeah, you have your priorities, and he has his. you’ll go after them, and he’ll go after his—there’s no reason why you can’t chase your dreams in parallel.

your parents think otherwise, though.

like some rather typical parents do, they’re sceptical; sae can see it in their eyes. the way they furrow their brows whenever you invite him to chime in during dinner, the way they ask investigative questions—things about his past history that even you never asked him.

“mom!” you’re fed up with their interrogation tactics, shooting a warning glare at your parents.

your mom and dad look at each other in resignation before resuming to quietly eat their dinner. you’re reluctant to leave sae alone at the dinner table with your parents while you help to wash up, but sae tells you he’ll be fine. because he will.

they’re humans. they’re like you, just older and less prettier. why should sae be scared?

as expected, the moment you turn the tap on, your parents jump on him.

“you know, she really likes you,” your mom tells him. “i can’t say the same for you, though.”

sae’s never navigated around conversations with parents. he doesn’t know the first thing about this. he’s just keeping his fingers crossed he doesn’t fuck up.

“you look like someone who has a lot of girls, itoshi,” your father chimes in before sae can speak up. “you have a lot of girls on the side?”

he could not be more wrong.

“none, sir.”

why does this effort feel much more than necessary?

“why y/n?” your mother jumps in, and for the first time tonight, sae spots a genuine curiosity in her eyes.

not the best question to ask someone who doesn’t even remotely talk about their feelings. sae finds himself stumped, but your mother is, fortunately, a nice person deep down.

“just tell me this,” she leans forward, and your father seems to relax a little bit, sinking back against his chair. none of you realise the tap’s turned off. “do you love her?”

that’s… premature, if sae has any say in it. and he thinks it’s criminal that he’s telling your mother before he even tells you, but he knows that not admitting it would likely cause a rift between you and them—not something he wants.

making you miserable? no thank you.

so he nods, “yes, i do.”

“you realise that—”

“sir, let me put it this way: you can’t force me to stay away from her, not even if you bribe me.”

from the kitchen, you smile as you listen. looks like you had nothing to worry about after all.

“they’re nothing compared to you.”

you love seeing sae living his dreams; love having front-row seats to his matches, love catching the fleeting glimpses he gives after he wins.

he’s twenty-one and thriving in the soccer scene, more than ever. world-famous and revered. the two of you are stronger than ever, still, because despite how sae looks, he’s much softer than people think.

when he’s running late from practice, he texts you the moment he can, tells you what’s up. when he has to cancel on you, he makes sure he makes it up to you. if he has soccer obligations on special occasions, he’ll let you know.

it’s funny thinking back to the days when you used to squabble with each other, to the days when everyone was tired of hearing you and sae argue.

not that that should be a problem now anymore—why? simple, because non-disclosure agreements are ass. but a highly recommended thing by his publicist; to protect his image, and then he told you not to take it personally because he’s asking all of sae’s close contacts to sign it too.

which didn’t take long.

it was mostly rin and his parents, and some other guys he used to know back in high school.

oh, and there’s you. apparently, you can’t divulge anything about being in a relationship with itoshi sae. so, as far as the world is concerned, he’s a bachelor.

“it’ll sell better,” was all the explanation his publicist offered.

sae had been against it, because why should he hide you from the world? and it’s stupid. but his publicist is smart, pointing out that you might get harassed online if his loyal fans find out. (to which sae begrudgingly agreed to, for the interim.)

it was fine, up to a point, but you’d never really considered how you’d feel seeing all these headlines of sae possibly being romantically linked with all these socialites and up-and-coming movie stars.

a part of you, the prideful part, is too stuck-up to ask your boyfriend for assurance. mainly because you think it’s stupid. sae constantly texts you when he’s not with you (as much as his schedule allows), and whenever he’s done for the day he goes back home and calls you if he can.

the other part of you, the lovestruck one, is afraid that maybe you can’t measure up to everyone else. that just maybe, you’re worlds apart and you’re not good enough.

usually you’d wait for sae to tell you he’s home, you’d let him rest his mind on the way back, but this time you’re impulsive and you’re dialing his number before you know it.

“hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, picking up after just two rings. even he knows you don’t usually initiate the calls.

“um,” you stutter because you don’t actually know how to tell him you’re calling to ask for assurance. despite having been together for four years, you realise that neither of you have actually sat down and talked about feelings.

“babe, talk to me,” sae urges you, and you can hear him getting off the bus. he must have just reached his apartment complex. he must’ve been tired from an entire day of intensive bootcamp and here you are, calling him with your trivial matters.

“it’s nothing, sae, forget it.”

“wait, what—”

you hang up before he can say anything and quickly text him.

i’m feeling a little sick tonight, just going to rest early.

sae leaves you on read and you think you’ve fended him off.

you did not.

an hour later, he’s at your door, carrying all your favorite convenience store snacks and a worried expression.

“what is it?” he asks you. you’re a little too stunned to speak. sae lets himself in, placing the snacks on your dining table before he really looks at you, surveying your face. “what were you crying about?”

you suddenly feel stupid for thinking your puffy eyes wouldn’t give you away.

sae tips your chin up when you try to look down. “y/n, tell me,” and he sounds only concerned, and the guilt builds up inside you.

so you tell him—you tell him about your intrusive thoughts as he lets you lay against his chest on the couch. you tell him about your insecurities as he sits in silence and listens. you tell him that you think it’s stupid of you to think this and you’re beginning to think you’re an ass for keeping him up so late when he has training tomorrow morning.

but sae doesn’t feel that. not one bit.

“it’s not stupid,” he tells you, and if you’d been able to see his expression, you’d know that he can never look at anyone the same way he looks at you. “all those girls you’re worried about, they’re nothing compared to you.”

“really?” you sniffle, appreciating the fact that even though he’s horrible at talking emotions, he’s trying his best for you.

sae pulls some hair away from your face and you pull back to get a good look at him. “really, stupid.” you laugh and he laughs, and now you’re really feeling stupid because there’s no way sae would ever choose anyone else over you. would never dream of having any other option.

“promise?”

sae sighs, in that lovingly way he does. “yes, i promise,” and he means it—he’s never thought of being with anyone else. “i love you, don’t i?”

you nod, chuckling because yes, yes he does. and yes, you know that more than anyone. even if it has to be kept under wraps for now; there’s no cause for concern.

when you fall asleep on his chest and sae’s too cautious to wake you up, your mother wakes up to take some water and stumbles upon the sight. she greets sae with a nod and a smile, the softest one he’s seen so far.

“my daughter has good taste.”

“that’s a secret.”

sae’s only getting more and more famous as he gets older. a year later and he’s already garnering attention from everyone, with girls lining up to be a possible mrs itoshi.

you’re still unknown; hidden in the crevices, tucked between pieces of signed contracts. you’re dealing with it, it’s fine. it’s going great, only because you’ve learned to get used to it. it was either that or to call everything off, and you don’t want that.

it’s a friday night and sae’s away for another match, this time in london, and you’re watching post-game interviews on your screen while you finish your pack of chips.

they finally get to sae, throwing the normal obligatory questions like how he feels after winning the match, how he feels like being the man of the match. until they start asking personal questions like who he’d like to dedicate his win to.

he dodges the first few easily with vague answers. but then they get even more personal.

“so, itoshi, rumours have it that you’ve been in a long-term relationship now, is that true?”

you freeze up hearing the question, noticing how sae momentarily looks to the right before he rolls his eyes and turns back to the interviewer.

“maybe,” he answers, and you’re surprised. that’s the first time he’s probably not listened to his publicist.

“now who is this lucky lady?”

sae sighs, “that’s a secret.”

his interview ends there as he retreats back into the locker room, your phone vibrating almost immediately after.

one day i’m gonna show you off to everyone.

you smile as you type your response.

sure you want the whole world to know you belong to me?

you expect a retort about how it’s the other way around, but he does one better.

fuck yes.

“you make me lose my goddamn mind.”

you’re both comfortable, twenty-three and lounging in sae’s apartment, curled up in the couch, fingers intertwined and spending a lazy sunday in.

it’s right smack in the middle of his break and you’ve got him to yourself for four entire months. it’s been good, so good.

everyday you’re reminded of why you love him, of why he’s yours. the way he pulls you back against him in the mornings when you wake up. the way he says your name when he’s sleepy, the raspiness in his voice known only to you.

“hey, i’m heading out for a while,” he tells you, slipping on his slides and unlocking the door.

that’s how it usually goes; you’re still not allowed to admit to your relationship, even if sae has hinted at being in a committed relationship. what his publicist considers as minimising risks is that both of you shouldn’t be seen out in public together. that’s why you’re having fun nights out at odd hours and being romantic in private.

sae often just leaves in the middle of the day, some alone time and maybe get some groceries since you can’t let yourself be seen leaving his apartment. it’s not an ideal situation, but you’ll take it. the last thing you want to do is make his life harder.

while he’s gone, you do the chores—make the bed, defrost some chicken breasts, vacuum, maybe wash the laundry. he’s doing his best to learn the right way to do chores (because one time when you asked him to help vacuum he ended up vacuuming the bathroom too), but you find it’s easier if you just do them instead.

usually he comes back by now, takes about a half an hour because his apartment is nestled in the centre of town, surrounded by all the stores and amenities he could need. but you stare at the clock.

it’s been an hour and a half, what’s he up to?

sae doesn’t even respond when you text him. right as you’re about to call him, worried, you hear his keys jangling and the door opening.

you expected to find him carrying a huge bag of groceries with the amount of time he was gone, but he’s empty-handed and you’re starting to think maybe he was hounded by paparazzi.

“did you have trouble with some press?” you ask innocently, mop in your hand.

sae sighs, “fuck no, thank god.” he toes off his slides and tosses his keys on the dining table, taking his cap off and tousling his hair. his pretty pretty reddish brown locks.

“oh, then where’d you go?”

sae smirks at you this time, hiding something behind his back.

“what’re you up to, itoshi?”

he rolls his eyes because you only call him that when you’re afraid. “relax, baby,” he coos, inching closer to you and revealing what he’s holding.

sae’s holding up your keychain; a mini figurine of sae you got from one of the gift shops during his match. but you spot something that wasn’t there before—a key, painted black like the door to his apartment.

“sae?”

“this key’s yours.”

you blink at him, a little stupefied. “sae, did you get lost while trying to find the key copy place?”

sae clicks his tongue, annoyed. “shut up, do you want this or not?” by the way he’s all red, he did get lost.

you take the key from him, suppressing a grin. “aw thanks, now i can let myself in.”

sae sighs again, “i’m asking you to move in, stupid.”

“y-you want me to move in here?”

“yes.”

“like, you want to see my face everytime you wake up and before you go to bed?”

“yeah.”

“you want me to live here with you, together?”

“yes and if you ask anymore i’ll take it back.” because sae’s aware that you’re asking out of disbelief—he loves his alone time yet here he is, asking you to be with him whenever he’s back home. which isn’t that hard to believe for him; you’re the only one he’d ever want to be alone together with.

you giggle, “okay okay, roomie.”

sae only sighs. “you make me lose my goddamn mind.”

“i don’t want this anymore.”

it’s your fault, it’s all your fault.

sae’s publicist is at the house, screaming at the top of his lungs, and by sae’s unamused expression, he’s not having it. he’s just controlling himself so he doesn’t end up getting a lawsuit filed against him for employee abuse.

“who thinks it’s safe to go out wearing their boyfriend’s jersey, which isn’t even for sale yet by the way,” he rants, staring straight at you, “and go down and buy a birthday cake on his birthday and take it up to his apartment, all while knowing that the press is gonna be camping outside the complex?”

he makes you feel stupid.

sae steps in front of you, his broad shoulders the only thing making you feel safe from his publicist’s constant attack. “you yell at my girl one more time and you’re done,” sae threatens, managing to get his publicist to storm out of the house.

apparently, sae had a big endorsement deal all planned with the one stipulation being that he had to appear a bachelor up until the stunt was over. and now his publicist’s mad because that’s all down the drain and his commissions are gone.

“hey, you okay?” sae asks you, gently, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

you’re fine, you’ll get over it. it’s just what his publicist said that gets in your head.

it’s like you’re trying to ruin his deals.

being with a famous pro player comes with some form of caution, you know that right?

she’s just in the fucking way!

weeks pass and it’s not easier to drown out the voices. sae’s good at it, so he’s already moved past it, resumes work as per usual, assumes you’re okay too because of the multitude of times you insisted that you are.

but really? it’s fucking difficult.

if you thought you were insecure before everyone knew about you, it’s ten times worse now. while the majority of people are nice about it, saying wonderful stuff like how the two of you are so sweet and look so good together, there’s still so many people who shit on you.

wait, i thought he was with that model from that one shoot? damn, he got the short end of the stick with his gf lol

lmaooo what a downgrade from that other soccer star he was dating

@itosae you okay, dude? you blind or something?

there’s a lot more than that. a lot. some of them even found your account, messaged you directly and said some less-than-nice things.

you keep it all from sae, though. the last thing you need to do is distract him any further, especially when he has the champions’ league coming up.

“i’m fine, mom,” you say one night when your mother calls to check up on you. “i promise.”

you’re a bad daughter, keeping these from your mother who’s just concerned. she isn’t convinced, but she hangs up anyway afterwards, telling you to rest.

it’s easy for things to spiral when you keep them all to yourself. the voices in your head that belongs to sae’s disgruntled fans growing louder, drowning out the words of affection sae tells you everyday.

until one day you think you can’t take it anymore.

they’re all telling you that you’re not good enough, that you’re just a burden. his publicist is nowhere near your side, instead silently siding with the fans who berate you. sae’s oblivious to it all, you think, because he doesn’t do anything about it.

one day you’re just sitting side by side, watching a movie, sae’s arm around your shoulders, his fingers idly twirling your hair.

“sae, we need to talk.”

like the lover he is, he pauses the movie, adjusting himself to look at you. “yeah, what is it?” he’s smiling at you because he has no idea what’s coming.

and you know, you know if you tell him what you really think that it won’t work, so you put on your best game face. truth be told, you’d been building up to this moment anyway, purposely telling him you’d be busy whenever he’s back from his games just so you won’t spend time together. it was all to give him the illusion that you just weren’t interested anymore, no matter how fucked up that sounds.

“i don’t want this anymore.”

sae furrows his brows. “what? what’s this?”

you sigh, feigning frustration. “this, sae. us. i don’t want this anymore.”

“why not?”

“because i’m tired. i’m tired of dating someone who’s half here and half not, i’m tired of tolerating your stupid habits, i’m tired of being with you, sae.” you’re raising your voice, but sae doesn’t flinch. his expression doesn’t even change. you’re beginning to think you broke him, made him malfunction.

when sae doesn’t say anything, you continue.

“i want to break up.”

sae looks away from you, at the patch of rug on the floor beside him, jaw clenched. he blinks a few times before he looks back at you.

“no.”

now it’s your turn to be confused. “w-what?”

sae tilts his head to the side, concern etched in his expression. “i said no, y/n,” he repeats, sighing. he puts his forefinger under your chin, his thumb caressing the side of your face. “who are you trying to fool?”

“i-i mean what i said, sae.”

you’re in disbelief. you hate how he knows you better than anyone else, maybe better than yourself, and you’re beginning to realise no one can come close to sae for you.

“so you don’t love me anymore? don’t wanna be my girl anymore?” he asks, but it’s redundant because he knows the answers. “i love you, okay? and i’d be a shit boyfriend if i let you go like this.”

you’re speechless, so you don’t say a thing, just sit awkwardly in front of him while for the first time in his life, he resolves to being there for you.

“look, i don’t know what mean things people are saying online, but fuck them,” he tells you.

“sae, it’s not easy,” you sniffle.

“then talk to me, and stop shutting me out, you idiot,” he chastises, and you find yourself falling onto him. “i fired my publicist too, by the way. couldn’t stand him spouting shit about you even after i told him to shut the fuck up.”

you laugh at his exasperation, your chest somehow feeling lighter.

“and, do me a favor? ignore the mean comments, yeah?” sae tells you, softer this time. “i kinda don’t ever wanna lose you, so.” he has his head resting on top of yours, your fingers intertwined and your heart soaring.

until now, you’d thought it’d be easy to drive sae away. you thought if you’d been enough of a nuisance, an eyesore, that he’d just take your word for it and run, that he’d throw a fit and let you leave.

but he doesn’t.

sae stays. and he tells you to stay. because he doesn’t know much about laundry, or how to handle feelings, but what he knows is how to love you. he knows what you need and he knows what you’re thinking, even if he doesn’t necessarily tell you about it.

and sae is a bitch to the world. he’s not the friendliest to fans nor does he care about making friends or enemies.

but to you, he’s everything. he says no to either of you straying and he says yes to whatever you ask except when it doesn’t make sense and you never knew that this was the beauty of being with someone who wants you—in every sense of the word.

there’s a certain threshold to pass before you can see everything clearly. suddenly it’s like the mean voices are faded into the background, and suddenly sae’s love is all you hear, and nothing is blurred because now all you can think about is how even if the world fails you, sae never will.

“hey, sae?”

“mhm?”

“thank you.”

he smiles against your head and you can feel it. “i love you, stupid.”

and you love him; recognising your handwriting and sweeping you off your feet. you love him; braving your parents, living his dreams. you love him; protecting you and showing up at your door. you love him; bashful yearning and unwavering emotions.

so you kiss him in response, and that’s all he needs to know that you’re with him for life.

#itoshi sae x reader #bllk x reader #sae x reader #blue lock x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae fluff #itoshi sae imagines #blue lock fluff #blue lock imagines #bllk fluff #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #sae x you #sae x y/n #૪ aeri’s fics !

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bkglovergirl · 11 days

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♡𓂃Room 381

Bakugou X Reader

𓏲 ࣪The school tells the students the exciting news! now you gotta deal with the fact you have a new 'husband' who could care less about this whole situation.

Word count; 1.6k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

The bell rings. There is tension in the air. Not because of a villain attack, no, there hasn't been one in days, but because all teachers have ordered all students back to the classrooms for an important discussion. No one knows what this is about and in this school, this could be anything. You pick up your bag and look around for any familiar faces hoping you can have a conversation about the situation, the lunch room is almost bare but you catch a familiar redhead and run up to him. “Hey Todoroki!” you smile at him giving him a small wave. He stops his movements and looks at you.

“Hi,” he says. It sounds very bland, you think, but what can you expect? Maybe he’s nervous as well.

“Can I walk with you to class? I’m nervous about this big discussion thing.” Todoroki starts walking but looks at you to continue the conversation so you take that as a yes and follow.

“What’s there to be nervous about?” you give him a face.

“What’s there? Are you for real asking me that right now?!” You turn to walk backward and face him. “I don’t know, let’s think. A Hero retires, A Hero has died, they are shutting down UA, a student has gone missing, the teachers are robots, and they want to recruit us!” It seems Todorokis's blank face has gotten even blanker.

“All those were completely reasonable until the last one. Do you always automatically think of the worst-case scenarios?”

“Well kinda but it’s not my fault.” you cross your arms, “you gotta think of the worse case scenarios when it comes to this line of work-!” you walking backwards didn’t notice how close you were getting to the classroom, which means you didn't notice the blond who was right near the door causing you to bump into him.

“Watch it bitch!” Bakugou pushes you away causing you to fall about into Todoroki.

“Alright asshole I’m not a freaking domino! You didn't need to push me!” you yell back in defense moving away from Todoroki. All Bakugou can do is give a scowl and walk into the classroom. “I Know I said it but I’m gonna say it again. What an asshole.” Todoroki nods following you into the classroom.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

“Alright class I regret to inform you that the school board has decided that not only is it not enough we teach you hero skills we must now domesticate you. Following your continued hero work you will now be paired with someone who will be your fake married partner. You will have your dorms, each including bedrooms that only you can access with your thumbprint. You will be monitored with a sensor. If you can’t get along and you get no points or even worse, negative points you fail the semester. Which means no work study. No fighting.” Aizawa slips into his sleeping bag unusually quickly. The class is quiet for a moment before yelling commences. Questions are yelled and it isn't until Aizawas face looks annoyed it gets silent. The room is quiet enough you can hear other classrooms having the same reaction you all just had. You can’t help but think you were so far off in your assumptions and at this point you wish a hero was retiring. “I will answer questions but I am not talking over all of you.” Hands are quickly raised.

“What happens if you are paired up with someone insufferable?” Yaoyorozu asks, she’s bold but the majority of the class was thinking about it.

“To help encourage points if a pair can get over a 100 and have an overall ‘A’ Grade, you and your partner have the option to switch pairs with another group who is also in an overall ‘A’ Grade.” You and a couple of people sigh. It’s a relief.

“How does this Sensor work?” Midoriya asks, noting that he already has his notebook out on his desk.

“It looks like a camera, but it’s not. Created by some tech-savvy departments, it can sense and scan emotions and calculate to decide what points a pair shall receive. For example, if the pair gets into an argument, the machine with scan picks up what it needs to and calculates it into the point system. And more Mumbo jumbo.”

“So why exactly is this happening?” You ask.

“The school board wants to show what it’s like to balance the life you all hopefully will have when you graduate while still being a hero… there is more to it but that's neither here nor there. Pairings will be posted in a few. I need a nap.” And that's it. Aizawa closes his sleeping bag and the class is left with dreed until the pairings come out.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

A knock is heard at the door and Aizawa slowly unzips his sleeping bag and answers the door, grabbing the paper and walking in front of the class. Everyone is quiet. Aizawa tapes the paper onto the board. “Some of you are paired with people in here and others are paired with others in other classes. I want absolutely no complaints. Next to your name is the room of your dorms.” As you would expect he goes back into his sleeping bag and the room is engulfed in chaos, everyone runs to the board, adrenaline running to see who they got. Gradually pairs start forming some cheers and some blushing tension. You get to the board and scan the paper. Down at the bottom in black ink ‘Y/N L/N and Katsuki Bakugou room 381’

“You gotta be fucking joking.” Of course, you two find your names at the same time. Why does he sound so disgusted, you're a fucking treat! You are about to remark him but before you can Aizawa comes out of his sleeping bag.

“It looks like you all found your names. Class is going to start now, so go back to your seats.” Are we just going to act like nothing just happened?!

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

The class had ended, and the girls and you were walking to your new dorms with some of your things from your old dorms. You were quiet, way too quiet for someone to notice.

“Girl you okay?” Ochaco hugs your arm, “normally you are leading our conversations.”

“No, duh, she’s quiet! She's got Bakugou as her husband,” you say silently, wondering if Mina could be any louder.

“I’m gonna die. Or my eardrums are gonna die. Either way, something is dying!” You can’t help but complain.

“What’s the deal with you both anyway?” Kyoka questions, “Normally people can have at least one decent conversation with Bakugou, But I’ve never seen you guys even hold a simple conversation. He won’t even communicate in battle with you? And he communicates with Midoriya.”

“I honestly don’t even know.” Truth is you did know and it was an embarrassing story that no one can get out of you. You went to middle school with both Bakugou and Midoriya. Over time and God knows how this happened you gained a crush on him and decided it would be a brilliant idea to confess. When you did it was a total embarrassment not only did he laugh in your face and shut you down, but He told those punk friends of his and they made your middle school life an embarrassment. You swore since that day he was your enemy. Childish yes? But still partly true to this day.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

You wave the girls goodbye and look at your new dorm you share with your new ‘Husband.’ You can’t help but think how ironic this is. You take a deep breath and enter the dorm. In the dorm is surprisingly a kitchen to your left and a small living room area in front with a door leading out to a balcony. Bakugou is sitting on the couch in the living room. It’s clear he’s already made himself comfortable with how he's sprawled out he is. You decided it’s just best to wait it out in your room and make yourself dinner once he goes to bed. You look and see two doors one with your name on it and another with Bakugou’s to the right of the living room area, you start walking over to your respective door.

“Don’t expect shit out of me.”

“I never expect anything out of you.”

“EXCUSE ME?!” Bakugou stands up facing you, “Who do you think you are saying that?!”

“If you aren't gonna put in any effort I’m gonna say whatever I want to you assface!” You both hear a ding. You didn't notice it before but over the TV is a point counter. Negative one. Not even five minutes into the dorm and you have negative points. “Oh now look what you did!”

“I didn't do that!”

“Yeah, you did!”

“Not my fault I don’t wanna do this stupid ass simulation. I just wanna be a Hero. Number one hero at that. A family and wife-” he points at you, “is just a stupid distraction from that and I don’t need this.” you roll your eyes and walk into your room, “DON’T WALK AWAY FROM ME!” and you slam your door. You place your stuff down on your new bed and sit down putting your hands to your face. Your blushing?! Why the fuck are you blushing? Is it because he called you his wife? Which is stupid and just delusional, did you not hear what he said? A million thoughts are running through your head as you question yourself but nothing can deny the feelings in your stomach.

#mha bakugou #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katuski #bnha #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha x reader #mha #boku no hero academia

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ragingbookdragon · 4 months

Text

It all happens so fast. She returns from the trip she’s been on for the last few days only to be arrested and put in federal custody for exposing secrets on NEST. She’s tough, seen war zones, fought extra-terrestrial alien robots, and stood before evil unafraid, but this scares her to tears. Men she works with day in and day out, in her face, yelling at her to come clean about selling secrets and all she can do is plead innocent.

But then they start asking her where she was, and she snaps her mouth shut on the answers. They dig into her, asking her if she was meeting with a contact, who it was, where she was. She keeps silent and it’s only until they decide to charge her with treason that she offers a simple answer.

“I was with someone, but it wasn’t for any type of secret meeting or sharing of intelligence.”

They press her over and over and over and it ends with her in a dark room, alone, cuffed to a table. It’s technically false imprisonment and cruel punishment, but she knows she doesn’t have much of a choice given the fact of how difficult a position she’s in.

She thinks of him. No doubt the rumors have already spread around the facility. She wonders if he has heard anything, if he has already said anything. She knows she can’t say anything, knows she can’t tell the entire truth—they won’t understand. How could they? They’re two completely different species.

Her spirits begin to dampen when a crash echoes outside and the roof of the darkened room is ripped from the walls. She covers her head the best she can, fear gripping her as light pours into the room and she squints as his face becomes clear to her.

“Optimus?” she breathes, and he reaches down, snapping the cuffs on her wrist like they were toothpicks before he picks her up and pulls her out, setting her down on the ground.

Guns are pointed their way, and she can’t help but hide slightly around the leg that is suddenly in front of her, guarding her. And then all of the Autobots are squaring off against the human soldiers, protecting her. Lennox somehow ends up in the middle of a multitude of aliens and humans, yelling at both sides to lower their weapons.

“Alright! Everyone put your guns down!”

There’s a breath and then the humans lower theirs followed by the Autobots.

Lennox looks at her. “You know I trust you, I know you wouldn’t do what they’re saying, but if you have a true, factual alibi, you have got to tell them. Now.”

She purses her lips, thinks for a moment, then looks up at Optimus; he gives her his own calming look and a nod. “She and I were both recently out. We were together.” He looks down again, kneeling enough that he can take her hand in his larger one. “We are navigating a difficult and new relationship between two different species.”

“Optimus,” she whispers. “I—you don’t have to tell them this."

His pointer gently brushes her temple. “If telling them our truth means it protects you, then I shall.” Optimus looks at the higher-ups she answers to. “If you mean to punish someone, then it will be me. But know this, she has not betrayed your trust and remains a trusted agent.”

It’s quite a commotion and the night ends with her job and security reinstated and a new manhunt for the double agent; she sits outside in the field, far enough from the facility that she doesn’t have to worry about being questioned anymore. The crunch of the ground comes behind her and she doesn’t look as Optimus sits down beside her on the grass.

“I am sorry that this is how things have come to light,” he murmurs, staring up at the sky. “It is not how I would have wished it.”

She sighs, not tired of him but of the entire thing. “It’s not your fault, Optimus. I think I should’ve told Lennox that I was out before we left. If nothing else, just to let him know that I wasn’t doing anything malicious.” She looks at him. “I’m sorry too.”

“It’s not your fault, my spark,” he says and shifts a leg until she is between his, his hands are wrapped around her, thumb brushing her thigh. “I should’ve done more to protect you.”

“Have they said anything since this afternoon?”

“I would not be surprised, but I was once taught to listen to all but only take few as truth.”

She leans back against him. “Thank you, Optimus.”

“Always, my spark.”

#optimus prime x reader #optimus prime x reader imagines #optimus prime x reader imagine #optimus prime imagines #optimus prime imagine #optimus prime #optimus x reader #optimus x reader imagines #optimus x reader imagine #optimus imagines #optimus imagine #optimus #transformers #transformers bayverse #bayverse transformers #transformers x reader

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fiber-optic-alligator · 2 months

Note

Hi may i please request swerve trying to be the human liason on the lost light's wimgmech untill they jump grab his shoulders do a pullup and smooch him.

Thank you! Hope your flights arent horrifically delayed.

Thank you for the request, and sorry for how long it took to finally get it out lol! Coincidentally my flights ended up being okay despite the hell I went through to get onto the planes.

I put a lot of thought into this request, and I wasn't entirely sure what you meant with Swerve being the reader's wingmech, so I went down this route. I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it's on the shorter side. Thanks again! :D

Wingmech

Pairing: IDW Swerve x Human Liason Reader

Word Count: 2181

Summary: After noticing you are lost in love with an anonymous mech, Swerve decides to help you prepare for going after the secret crush you have.

Swerve has been watching you for a while now.

It’s not uncommon for the Lost Light’s crew to focus on you. You are, after all, the only human aboard the Cybertronian exploration ship. Though you’ve been here for months, no bot can help but find you fascinating. And Swerve? Well…he’d never admit it to anyone, but his interest in you goes well beyond mere fascination. Yes, you're small, smaller than even him. Yes, you're soft, and squishy, and adorable, and sometimes he really wants to scoop you up into his arms and kiss you right on the lips after confessing his love-

Okay. So maybe he has a bit of a crush on you. But that’s all it is! A crush that compels him to keep tabs on where you go and what you do. He’s learned about you from the various conversations he’s listened to during busy nights. He knows you adore dogs and melt at the sight of cats (What are dogs? What are cats? Like hell he knows. He isn’t particularly caught up on his Earth knowledge). He knows you like to turn in early and wake up late. He knows you aren’t exactly a party person, and sometimes being surrounded by robots three times your size is incredibly overwhelming. And following that little tidbit, he understands you don’t like coming to his bar.

So why are you here now?

He’s watching you while he makes drinks. Your little form is tucked away in a corner at one of the smaller tables reserved for minicons, hunched over a notebook, eyes focused on the pages of written material he can’t read. Even when he zooms his optics in, your writing is far too small for him to coherently pick up on from this distance. With one hand propped against your cheek and the other idly tapping a pen against your head, you look far too troubled for someone who’s currently spending time in a place where all troubles are drunken away. It makes him curious and concerned. Why would you, someone who hates large crowds and loud environments, be writing in such a place?

He needs to get to the bottom of it.

Now, he knows what someone might say about this: “Swerve, it's none of your business. Swerve, they clearly don’t want to be bothered. Swerve, eavesdropping is bad.”

Well, you know what he would say to all of that? “I’m a bartender. My business is everyone else’s business. That’s what being a bartender entails.”

So yeah, he’s snooping. But it’s all for a good cause. Being around you is worth it. He’ll always take the chance to talk to you if he can.

“Whatcha writing?” he asks when he pops up behind you with surprising stealthiness. You let out a surprised shriek and nearly jump right out of your seat. He barely catches a glimpse of your notebook’s contents before you slam it shut and cover it with your arms.

“Swerve!” you yell, fleshy human cheeks flushing a wonderful pink color (Oh, how he loves the way you blush like that. He wants to make you do it more). “Don’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself. You humans make the cutest sounds when you're startled.” He folds his servos behind his back and leans forward a little. “I don’t see you in the bar often. A place like this isn’t really the best for writing stories, ya know.”

You sigh and slip your notebook into the knapsack you always carry around. Darn, he thinks, how will your secrets be spilled to him now? “I’m not writing stories. I’m just…doing research on something.”

“Research,” he says. “In a bar.”

“Yes. Research in a bar. Is that so hard to believe?”

He does a quick scan of your features. The blush on your cheeks has deepened to a shade of red that almost matches his paint job. You're fiddling with your knapsack and guarding that notebook with your life. Suddenly, it comes upon him like a tidal wave; his smile widens with the victorious air of someone who just won a medal. “Oh, I know what's going on here,” he says. “You've been spying on someone, haven’t you?”

Your reaction only further proves his theory. You look horrified, and the way you frantically rush to defend yourself is like a bright neon arrow pointing directly at your head. “What? No! Nonono, why would you think that?!”

He laughs. “Oh, you totally are! Your notebook is probably chock-full of evidence, amiright? Wait, don’t tell me! Let me guess!” He circles the table and plops down across from you. “Is it Ratchet? Nah, too grouchy. Cyclonus? Mm, too weird. Oh, oh! It’s Rodimus, isn’t it? It has to be Rodimus!”

“What are you talking about?” you ask him.

He leans forward and smirks. “You're in love, little one. Am I right, or am I right?”

“I-I’m not-there’s no-” You stutter for a moment longer, then get a hold of your emotions and reel them in. Sitting back and going stone-faced, you stare at him with only the color of your blush signaling what you are currently going through. “I’m not in love.”

Does it hurt to know you have a crush on someone who isn’t him? Absolutely? But telling you that would mean admitting the feelings he has for you, and no way is he doing that now. His spark aches with the sting of rejection, but he hides it well and decides messing with you will make him feel much better. “C’mon, squirt. You can’t lie to me. It’s as clear as day that someone on this ship has you smitten.”

“It’s not someone on this ship. I’m a human.”

You being a human and us being mechs means nothing. How many months have you been aboard this ship?” He counts off his digits. “Two? Three? No, it’s been five months, hasn’t it? Five months with us and your little spark has finally decided humans just don’t compare to mechs anymore. Aw, how adorable.”

You look like you want to jump across the table to snap his intake shut. Instead though, you slump back in defeat and groan, rubbing your hands across your face. “Is it really that obvious?”

“To me? Yeah. But that’s only because I’ve picked up on your reactions. Plus, the fact that you came here to jot down ‘notes’ means…” Now he gets excited. “It has to be someone in this bar.”

You regard him cautiously. “And what if it is? What will you do about it?”

He shrugs. “Nothing! My job is to pour drinks and listen to people’s woes. What kind of reputation would I be giving this fine establishment if I were to go around tattling on my loyal customers?” He taps his index digit against his dermas. Scrap, this is really going to hurt him. But he wants to see you happy. “I could help you, you know.”

“Help me?” you echo.

“Yeah, why not?” he forces himself to say with enthusiasm. “I’m always ready to help a pal! I’ll be your wingmech! How’s that sound?”

A wide smile splits across your face and you cover your mouth to muffle your giggle. “Wingmech? Seriously? That’s so cheesy, Swerve.”

By the Allspark, hearing your laughter is music to his ears. He’s envious of whoever you are crushing on. They’re one lucky mech to have someone like you chasing after them. But he swallows down his jealousy for your sake and puffs out his chassis proudly. “Cheesy or not, I’m sure I can help you woo your future sweetspark. All you gotta do is learn to use a little bit of the ol’ Swerve charm and bingo, this bot will be yours in no time. So, whattaya say? You wanna employ my humble services?”

You bite your lower lip and look down at your knapsack. “I don’t know. The Swerve charm may not exactly work on the mech I’m thinking of.”

“Aha!” He stands up and points at you. “So you admit you're in love!”

You give him a pointed look. “Alright, alright, fine, I admit it! Yes, there’s someone on this ship I really like. I’ve been writing down things he may or may not enjoy so I can come up with ways to show him that…that I want to…askhimout.” This last part comes out as a weak mutter. It’s obviously difficult for you to admit it, but oh boy is Swerve glad you have.

“So it’s a he. Hm. IIIInteresting. Mind telling me what he’s like?”

You smile. “Well, he’s outgoing. And very enthusiastic about what he does. He always has an upbeat attitude and definitely knows how to make me laugh. Some might think he’s a bit of a wise-ass though.”

Swerve chuckles. “Sounds like a real dream boat.”

“You…have no idea.” The way you say it sounds strange to him, but he doesn’t think any more of it. You drum your fingers against the table. “What…what would you do if you wanted to tell him that…that you like him?”

I wouldn’t. I’d tell you I like you and no one else. “I’d probably do something bold. Something that would really grab his attention, ya know?” He thinks. “Does he like you back?”

“Well, you see…I-I think so? I’m not sure. I talk to him a lot, but we’re…kind of different. I’m definitely not like him, but we get along. The more I hang out with him, the more these feelings grow.” You stare at your hands. “I don’t know if I should be admitting all of this.”

“No, no, it’s okay!” He’s quick to reassure you. “I want to help! Seriously! I said I’d be your wingmech, and I’m going to uphold my word! So, let’s think! You think he likes you, and you definitely like him back. He’s the extroverted type, bold and brash…so give him a show! Really show him that you want him and you to be together, and you appreciate all of the good company he’s given you since you boarded the ship. The key is to really hit him here.” He thumps his chassis. “Right in the spark. It’s all emotions, squirt! Nothing else to it!”

“Emotions, huh?” Once again, that odd look crosses you. “Do you think we could…practice?”

“Practice?”

“Yeah, like, working on what I’ll do when I finally admit my feelings to him? Would that be okay with you?”

“Oh, yes, totally!” He stands up. “C’mere, let’s go through it. Think about what you want to say, and then act it out to me.”

You stand up as well and walk over to him. Looking down, he sees just how small you are compared to him; you barely make it up to his chassis. You study him, biting your bottom lip. You look so nervous. It makes him want to be gentle.

“Don’t be shy,” he says softly. “There’s no reason to be. It’s just you and I here, yeah? No one will pay attention to us.”

You draw in a deep breath. “Okay, Okay.” Shaking out your arms, you fixate on him determinedly. “I’m not going to say anything. I’m going to do something. Is that okay?”

“Oh,” he says, a bit confused. “Sure, yeah! What are you going to do?”

You take a step back. Then, you jump forward, and he’s startled when you grab his shoulders and pull yourself up. His optics widen when you lean in and give him a short kiss. Every mechanical nerve in his body sings when he feels your lips on his, and he seems to lose control of himself, becoming nothing more than a statue.

Then, it’s over. You let him go and drop back down, taking a step back and looking at him anxiously. He stares at you, air whooshing in and out of his intake as his systems attempt to cool.

“It’s…It’s me?” he whispers.

You lower your head and nod.

He can’t talk. He can’t make a sound. It’s only for a good few seconds, but when he finally regains control of his vocalizer, he begins to laugh. And laugh. And laugh. And then he’s picking you up and spinning you around in a tight hug. “You like me!” he cries. “You like me, you like me!” He couldn’t care less if anyone else in the bar is watching this. The one he’s been crushing on for months has been crushing on him back!

You laugh along with him. “It took you this long to figure it out? I’ve been dropping hints since we started this conversation!”

“That’s why you’ve been doing research in the bar! Primus, how did I not realize it sooner?” He holds you back so he can see your brilliant smile. It makes him melt. “I can’t believe you really like me,” he whispers.

You cup his faceplate in your hands. “I’m guessing your happy about it, Mr. Wingmech?”

He kisses you again, leaning into your touch. “Well…looks like my humble services paid off.” He pauses. “So…what did you think of the Swerve charm?”

#gator writes #gator requests #idw swerve #swerve x reader #transformers swerve #mtmte swerve #transformers #transformers idw #mtmte #transformers lost light #tf idw #reader insert #transformers x reader #transformers x human reader #maccadam #not my best work but I really enjoyed writing it!

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reminiscingtonight · 8 months

Text

Girls Girls Girls

Lia Wälti x Reader

Word Count: 937

A/N: Girls Girls Girls by Fletcher is so Lia-core

[WOSO Masterlist]

It’s hot and sweaty at this bar.

There’s too many bodies, not enough space, and you can’t turn without running into somebody.

“Come on! It’s time to go!”

It seems like your friends have come to the same conclusion as you, ready to leave after only spending a little over an hour at this place.

Despite your less than fond impression of the bar, you’re breaking off from your friends, trying to make your way through the crowd.

“Give me a sec,” you throw over your shoulder. You’re not sure if your friends heard you nor do you really care, all you care about is the brunette beauty slowly coming into view.

You’ve had your eye on her for a while.

The brunette’s standing in the corner with her friends. She’s dashing and beautiful and dressed in a white shirt that almost seemed illegal with the way it was clinging to her every curve. She’s been nursing the same drink for the past hour or so, too busy singing and dancing with her friends to really care about getting more alcohol into her system.

You’re enamored instantly. You’ve been trying to come up with the courage to go over and talk to her for the past half an hour. Her eyes keep meeting yours over the crowd but neither of you make the effort to go over to the other.

So minutes before your friends are ready to call it a night, you make your decision.

Better to have tried and lost than not even try at all, right?

You’re only a couple feet away when green eyes meet yours, lips widening into a smile.

“Would you like to dance?” You have to shout to make yourself audible over the crowd, but it just makes the girl smile more at the effort.

She leans in just enough that you catch a hint of her floral perfume, feel the heat of her breath against your cheek.

“I’m dancing right now.”

You clock her accent instantly. It makes her seem all the more attractive to you. Leaning back a bit, you meet her eyes again. “I see that. But I was wondering if you’d like to spend a song with me.”

There’s a sparkle in her eyes as she pretends to think on your words.

The blonde next to her barks out a laugh, slapping her friend’s shoulder. “Wally, cut the poor girl some slack.”

The brunette rolls her eyes, a light smirk on her lips as she shoves her friend right back.

Wally, you tell yourself, trying to commit her name into memory. For some reason your mouth moves faster than your brain, and you’re blurting out, “Wall-E? Like the robot?”

There’s a slight pause in conversation. You’re slowly turning red, wanting to slap yourself for actually saying that out loud when she lets out a laugh. You think that might be your new favorite sound in the world. “Exactly like the robot. But you can call me Lia instead.”

You try not to look confused at the name thing but you nod all the same. When you tell her your name, Lia’s already wide smile grows wider. Her hand’s soft when she puts it in yours, gently gripping it before letting go. You find yourself missing her touch the second it’s gone.

It all seems for naught when her hand dances down your arm minutes later, the brunette more than happy to drag you to the dancefloor after one of her friends returns with a new drink for her.

Your eyes are glued onto her cup as she leads you deeper into the crowd, the way the liquid sloshes dangerously close to the edge making you a bit uneasy. Lia follows your eyes with a giggle, simply tilting it towards you as an offer.

“Guess I should’ve waited until finishing it before taking you out here, huh?”

Smirking at her tease, you lean in, making sure to keep eye contact as your lips wrap around the straw. You try to act unaffected when you catch Lia’s eyes darkening, licking at her lips at the sight of you drinking out of her hand.

The cup is jerked away from you and you startle, nearly spitting out what’s in your mouth before you seal your lips shut. Lia tries not to laugh as you wince at the sudden rush of alcohol.

“Sorry, my hand slipped.” She doesn’t sound sorry at all.

Your breath gets caught in your throat as Lia leans in close, deft fingers wiping the excess alcohol off your chin before tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Out of instinct your fingers find a home in the loops of her jeans.

Lia raises an eyebrow at you. “Feeling a little confident there, are we?”

You bite at your bottom lip, not missing the way her eyes drop to follow the motion. “I dunno, is it working?”

Lia gives you a good natural roll of her eyes, but doesn’t move away, hand warm where it’s still pressed against your cheek.

She doesn’t stop you when you pluck the drink out of her hand.

She also doesn’t stop you when you lean in.

All you remember years later is the feeling of Lia’s lips against yours. The way your heart almost fell out of your chest, the way you wished the moment would never end.

Three years later you can recreate the kiss as many times as you want.

Your wife is more than happy to kiss you whenever you ask, and every kiss still takes your breath away like it did the first day.

#lia walti x reader #lia walti imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes

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a-chaotically-small-lunta · 2 months

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Okay hear me out. Imagine a story where a scientist is leading a tour of kids through his lab, showing off all the inventions that will hopefully one day help humanity! In this tour is his son, who is very excited to be with his dad at his job, while also technically going to school? Win Win!! His dad has been a bit overprotective of him, but he sort of enjoys the attention. Although he isn’t too keen on his classmates who bully (perhaps one of the bullies is his brother or something) him for it, still poking and teasing him during the tour.

After awhile the dad shows off a portal machine which can open a portal to a whole new world, or at least that’s what they think it leads to anyway. The lab hasn’t fully tested it and is making a robot to send in first. The kids all ask if they can see it and the science team agrees as long as no one goes over the rails towards the portal, cause it seems to have a suction. (You can see where this is going I bet) The science team flips on the machine and the portal lights up, and while everyone is distracted the bully decides to have some fun, whispering into the Scientist kid’s ear something like “Maybe you’ll see your mom over there” or “Perhaps I should just take out trash like you. You’re just wasting dad’s time anyway” before the kid can really process what happens he is pushed over the rail into the portal, disappearing. The machine shuts off with a clunk and the dad is pissed. He is shouting at the bully about how stupid that was and how they have no idea if it’s even life sustainable on the other side! A guard nearby says that the kid is in real serious trouble for so many reasons, only for the dad to chime in that the bully better hope his kid is alive cause if he isn’t, he’ll get a murder charge. The bully explains he didn’t mean to only for most of the class saying that the bully always does this and one student even repeats what he said before he pushed the kid in. They decide to end the tour early and send everyone home, while the bully is escorted out by the guards and won’t be going home soon.

The science team asks what they’re gonna do and the dad says they’re gonna make something. Perhaps a suit or vehicle so that he can go into the portal and find his son. The team nods and quickly gets to work, they know it’ll take more than a few weeks, but maybe if they are lucky the kid will be okay, and maybe they can get it done faster.

Meanwhile, the kid flies through the portal and lands on a soft ground. Panicking he sits up and looks around, only to notice he’s on a huge bed. The portal sent him to a world that was way bigger than his own. Fear strikes him as he realizes where there is a big bed, there’s a big person. He’s right when he looks over across the room and sees a huge person sitting at a desk mumbling to themself. He’s frozen in fear and can’t move, even when the person swings around from their chair and walks over to their bed only to pause and stare at him.

The giant just stared at him, confused as to why there is a tiny child in their bed. They swear they didn’t put them there and are about to say something when the kid just burst out crying and the giant panicked. They quickly kneel by their bed and try to hush the child and tell them that it’s okay. The child keeps sobbing and soft hiccups can be heard, but eventually the kid quiets down a bit. The giant carefully asks how the kid got there, and the boy answers between sobs. The giant listens and the boy eventually bursts into tears again, crying out that they want their dad. The giant gently scoops them up, and holds them close saying “hey, hey, it’s going to be alright. You said your dad was a scientist…sooo he must have seen you get pushed in. I bet he’s trying to get back to you, he just has to figure out how to.” The kid sniffles and asks if the giant really believes that and they nod. They then reassure the kid that they won’t hurt them and that they’ll watch and care for them, until their dad comes to save them. The boy nods and the giant pauses and asks if he likes movies. The boy says yes and that he likes action like movies. The giant then decides that maybe they could watch a movie, to help the boy calm down, they’ll even let the kid choose the movie. He gets a little excited over this and the two of them go and do exactly that. Through this we learn that the worlds are almost identical, but some things are changed like Superman is Aceman, and Ice Cream is Frost Gel. All still the same thing, just named differently, which both the giant and boy find amusing.

The boy stays with the giant for little over a week, getting used to the large surroundings and the movements of the giant. The giant provides a small house to the boy, made of a box and Legos, which the boy had fun playing with and designing that part of the little home. In the other world the dad and his team finally finished the suit. It was built to survive space, acid, lava, and other possibilities. It had a backpack built into the back that held food rations, weapons, tools, and other things for survival. There was also the case, which contained all the parts for a small return portal back home. Which had been tested multiple times….just not cross dimensionally. The suit also had a built in camera that would send live video feed back to the team while the dad, who wanted to be the one who went through, was over there looking for his son. He’d also do some science stuff, like take samples and explore a bit.

The day finally arrives and the dad walks through the portal. He finds himself behind a large plush wall, and he starts to walk around it when he hears booming voices. Meanwhile the giant is laying in bed scrolling through their phone. The kid is sleeping in their little house for a quick nap. Then out of the corner of their eye they see something move out from behind their pillow. The dad looks up and catches the giant’s eye glancing at him. He freezes, and then grabs a weapon from the bag. This causes the giant to freak out and quickly flop out of their bed and onto the floor. The dad runs over and, using the mic in his suit, shouts “WHERE IS HE?!?!?” The giant, confused as hell, asks that the “crazy living action figure dude” please put down the weapon, while also asking what he means. The dad just shouts “IF YOU DID ANYTHING TO HIM I SWEAR I’LL..” the threat falls from his lips as the giant rises above him and cautiously walks over to the little house. They open the top and reach in, carefully waking the boy up and whispering that they have a surprise. The dad, still in a fighting stance, watches as the giant approaches with something in their hands. He’s about to fight, when the giant opens their hands and reveals his son, causing him to freeze. The boy pauses, not recognizing him cause of the suit, but once the dad rips the helmet off, the kid jumps off the giants hand and rushes to embrace his dad.

Both the kid and the dad just tightly hold onto each other as the giant just smiles softly, watching them. They then comment how much of a strong and loving dad the kid has and how the dad has such a brave and smart son. They both look up at the giant, who gives them a sweet smile. The dad explains they can go back home and the son is excited to tell his dad everything he learned about the place. The giant asks if there is anything they can do to help, which the dad asks if there is a safe place to setup a portal device somewhere that isn’t, well, a bed. The giant nods, and offers their hand to the pair. The son quickly hops on and the dad, carefully steps on after a bit of encouragement from his son. The giant takes them to their desk and says they can set it up in the free space near the wall.

After some time the portal is up and running and the dad has some samples, including a hair from the giant, and the small pair is ready to go home. The giant remarks that they’ll probably be seeing more of the tiny people, but says that they are welcome to visit. The boy hugs the giants hand and thanks them for taking care of them. The dad also thanks them for watching over his son, and says that he’s glad that the giant was the one to find his son. They take their leave and the story comes out in their world about what happens. The bully is still charged for some things, mostly messing with official government science stuff, but everything seems fine in the end. Plus the boy made an amazing friend, and the dad found someone he can trust to watch his son.

Anyway, basically what if a portal led to a giant world similar to our own, but it was discovered because some kids decided to mess with a kid. Resulting in the kid getting lost in that world, having to wait to be found or find a way back themself?

#g/t #gt #gianttiny #giant/tiny #giant tiny #g/t idea #g/t ideas #g/t thoughts #g/t thought #g/t story idea #I think it would be interesting to find a whole new world filled with giants #although if I found a tiny crying child in my bed I’d probably freak out #I’d have to calm them down and try and figure out how they got here and whether or not they were always tiny #it would be 100% worse if they happened to be from the same universe and the portal just shrunk them and sent them somewhere random #especially if you see the missing posters and think ‘wait I have them…how am I gonna explain their size?!?!?’#but if they’re from another world it’s more ‘oh okay. just smaller universe..okay okay…let’s figure out dimension travel then…I guess!!!’#either way I’d comfort them and definitely help or try and help them get back home #I’d just make sure that they were okay and watch over them…go all mama bear mode I guess haha #also sorry this got long and is basically a short story written shorter…a shrunken story hehehe

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jujutsukatsuki · 6 months

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11 Minutes || Katsuki x Reader || ANGST

{inspired by 11 minutes by Yungblud, Halsey and Travis Barker}

“Hey, I’m eleven minutes away.” Her voice chimed through his phone once he clicked accept.

“Yeah, I’m just waiting for you, I got 45 minutes of my break left.” He said as he checked the clock that hung on the wall of the coffee shop. They said their goodbyes and hung up. He bounced his leg nervously.

His ear piece started to ring, he pressed it and took the call.

“Dynamite.” His voice was gruff as he spoke, annoyed they bothered him during his break.

“We need you on Hiroshi street, there’s been a car accident and you’re the closest person.” One of his many assistants in his agency said.

He growled “On it.” He sent Y/n a text.

‘Got a call, only 11 minutes from here, I’ll be back asap!’

He took off out the coffee shop and used his quirk to propel himself faster. He could see the smoke from where he was.

Her head laid on his chest, the room smelt like sex and vanilla scented candles. Her hand was warm as it brushed over his tattoos that lay on his ribs. Y/n’s hair tickled his skin whenever her head would lightly move.

“You’re so pretty.” She whispered and kissed one of the tattoos gently.

“Oh, shut up.” His face flushed a light pink as he looked away, one hand tickled behind his head while the other laid on the small of her back. Their legs were entangled together as the quiet Saturday afternoon felt calming.

He arrived on the scene and as he dashed to the car that was on fire and flipped upside down, a man unconscious against the wheel, a women with her head against the dashboard and a baby in his back seat.

He got the three out just in time as the car had lightly exploded. Bakugou made his way to the second car and froze when he saw her, thrown from the windshield, laying on the ground.

“No.. no..” he whispered and rushed to her.

“I’m sorry Y/n.” His voice was cold, callus and calm. He packed up his duffel bag of stuff and was about to leave her for good.

“Please.” She sobbed and reached for him. He took a step back and stared off, eyes watering.

“I’m sorry. Being a pro hero is my dream and I can’t do that if I have distractions.” His heart felt like it was snapping. The sounds of her sobs got louder as she sat on the couch, hands in her hair. Katsuki took one last look at her before he left her apartment for the last time.

“Please.” He whispered as he held her body in his arms, her chest wasn’t moving. She was bleeding from various places.

“I’m sorry, please, wake up.” He nearly yelled as he rocked her in his arms lightly.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry, wake up!” He screamed as more tears fell.

“Please!” He sobbed and held her tight. He shielded her lifeless body as the cars exploded once again. Paramedics came over and tried to take her and he wouldn’t let them.

“Run the simulation again.” He barked to the tech in the room.

“Running Simulation 214.” The robotic voice spoke.

Bakugou was once again back in the coffee shop getting the call. The simulation broke when the door opened.

“Dude..” Kirishima sighed quietly

“You couldn’t have changed the outcome.” He walked over to his best friend and partner at the agency.

“Yes I could!” Bakugou barked at him. “Get out!”

Kirishima sighed and left as he shook his head.

“He’s right you know.” Bakugou froze and turned to see her. She looked as beautiful as she did the day he met her.

“There was nothing you could have done.” She walked over and put her warm hand on his cheek.

“Please Kat, don’t forget me but don’t torture yourself.” Bakugou leaned into her touch before it disappeared as quick as it came.

“No.. please..” he whimpered and dropped to his knees.

“Katsuki.. katsuki~” a gentle voice spike in his ear, he jolted awake with a scream.

“Y/n!” She jumped at the yell before grabbing his face in her warm hands.

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay, what’s wrong? Bad dream?” She hummed softly. Bakugou panted as he looked at the girl of his dreams. He gulped air down a few times as he stared at her eyes.

“Yeah..” he nodded before pulling her into a tight hug. He felt her hands rub his back as she hugged back.

“You’re okay, I got you,” she whispered softly.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader

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babydollmarauders · 11 months

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OVERWHELMED — JACK HUGHES

part of the el!hughes au

summary: in which Lovie gets overstimulated and overwhelmed and Jack swoops in to help.

notes: this is totally not me projecting at all— nope- definitely not

it was something i wasn’t prepared for about motherhood— i’ve always been sensitive to loud noises, getting overstimulated and irrationally upset after a while.

i was fine in situations where i expected it; concerts, hockey games, the like. but when i was in the comfort of my own home or in a place that i wasn’t expecting it, it quickly became too much.

and when these situations happened, i became irritable and acquired a touch aversion. needing some quiet time to myself in order to recover.

when i became a mom, i was able to power through it. the newborn and infant years being an easy feat, as my daughter was a relatively quiet baby.

but with the toddler years has come the screaming, even when happy. Eleanor’s once quiet demeanor disappeared, replaced by excited squeals and happy yelling.

she would be playing and just randomly start screaming in excitement or get frustrated and scream out of annoyance and distress.

i was understanding. she couldn’t fully talk yet to express herself and for the most part, i could breathe through it and be fine. but there were those few times where it became too much.

like now.

El’s excited screams bounce off the apartment walls as she runs around the hallways with her tiny red target cart, full of her favorite toys. baby dolls and magnetic building blocks piled in the cart, running into door-jambs and furniture and clinking together.

i take deep breaths, my head pounding in ache as i sit on the couch. i love my daughter. so much. but this is entirely too much.

my husband stands in the kitchen, laughing as our toddler crashes her cart against the back of the couch, making the entire sofa jolt before she screams in excitement once again.

i flinch, squeezing my eyes shut and taking a deep inhale. i reopen my eyes just in time to see my two-old run around the side of the couch, slipping and falling onto her butt.

she lets out a shriek in frustration, tears springing to her eyes as she rises back to her feet, abandoning her play shopping cart in favor of fast walking over to me on the couch.

climbing up the couch cushions, her cries get louder with the close proximity, making my breath hitch.

“mommy!” she whines. her little hands grip my shoulder as she steps into my lap, plopping herself down and looking up at me.

i instinctively lock up, my back straightening and my hands flying up towards my shoulders in attempt to get away.

it makes me feel like a horrible mother. i can’t even power through the touch of my own child when i’m overstimulated like this.

El’s cries get louder as she reaches up to touch my cheeks.

“mommy! boo boo!” my heart aches in my chest and i’m near tears, myself. i hate seeing my baby upset but i can’t bring myself to do much. i bring my hand down, rubbing her back but even that makes my skin crawl in discomfort.

“it’s okay, El-Bell.” i attempt to comfort her, but my voice is near-robotic, just running through the motions.

my tears finally spill over and i send a desperate glance to my husband, who is already stepping over to us.

he gives me sympathetic eyes, quickly scooping up the toddler from my lap, which only makes her more upset.

“mommy!” she cries out, reaching around her father to make grabby hands at me, my heart shattering even further.

“hey.” Jack coos, turning around so that El’s back is facing me. “it’s okay, lovely. daddy’s got you.”

his eyes lock with mine and he gives me a quick and affirmative nod, letting me know that he’s got this, and i take that moment to rise from the couch, sneaking off towards our bedroom.

“you wanna watch a movie, baby? you wanna watch Ariel?” i hear him ask, resulting in the halting of El’s cries. i assume she’s nodding, as not a moment later i hear the familiar ‘thum thum’ of the disney+ app being opened on the tv.

i quietly creak our bedroom door shut, leaving it open just a crack before moving to lay on the bed, burrowing myself in the blankets. my head just barely peeks out of the comforter, providing me with fresh air.

sobs wrack my body, lightly shaking the bed. i cover my mouth with my hand, muffling my cries so that my toddler doesn’t hear them out in the living room, but it only serves to make me cry harder.

it’s moments like these where i wonder if i’m failing my child. because i sure feel like a failure. what kind of mother am i? to get so overwhelmed by my own child, that i can’t even stand being touched by her?

it feels like hours until my sobs finally subside, but in reality i know it’s only been maybe half an hour.

now i lay in the bed, staring up at the plain white ceiling and overthinking everything.

is El going to hate me for this one day?

have i let her down?

is Jack going to hate me for this?

will he get tired of the fact that i can’t handle our daughters loud noises and leave me?

my thoughts are interrupted by the dip of the bed beside me. i look over to see Jack laying a napping Eleanor next to me on the mattress before he lays down on the other side of her.

he looks at me with an expression full of worry, pity overtaking his face.

i turn on my side, facing my husband and our daughter, and he does the same.

“how are you feeling?” he questions softly, not wanting to wake our sleeping toddler.

“better.” i tell him, gazing down at El and running the back of my hand across her chubby cheek.

i love her so much.

“i feel like i’ve failed her.” i confess. “like i’ve failed you both.”

Jack is quick to squash those feelings, leaning over the toddler to press a sweet kiss to my lips.

“stop doing that.” he pleads. “stop reducing yourself down to your bad moments. i love you. El loves you.

“so you have a few times where it all becomes too much- i may not be able to understand it fully, but i do understand that it’s out of your control. you love El, i know you do, i see it every day. if it were up to you, i know you would never have these moments. but they do happen, and that’s okay. El may not understand it yet, but she will one day, and she still loves you regardless.”

his words make tears prick my eyes once more and i break our eye contact to gaze back down at our daughter.

“you are more than these moments, Lovie. and i will do whatever i can to help when they do happen.” he tells me, smiling softly.

“when i’m home.” he adds, making me let out a watery giggle.

“i love you.” i express, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips.

“i love you more.”

“thank you for being so understanding. and for swooping in to help.” i smile, raising a hand to cup his cheek, trailing my thumb softly over his cheekbone.

“thank you for being the most amazing wife and the best mother to our beautiful baby girl. thank you for giving me the best gift i’ve ever received.”

“your ‘#1 dad’ hat?” i joke, making him throw his head back in laughter.

“our daughter, Lovie!” he clarifies through chuckles. “although, i do love that hat.”

#el!hughes au #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3

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pix3lplays · 3 months

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I saw the Sam request post-

I did see the scenes of him from the 2.0(?)update, so I was thinking….how about healing him/fixing his mechanical limbs after he fought with someone? (He kinda fine ngl-)

Also please work your way through fulfilling a lot of inbox requests gradually plEASE-!! *head-pats and support*❤️❤️🫶🏻🫶🏻

OOH so like…mechanic reader x Sam?? That could work…

And also yes I promise I’m working through them to the best of my abilities! I will be closing requests soon so I can focus on my older requests-

Thank you for the patience!

Notes! Spoiler stuff for Sam lore, and I’m just kinda assuming stuff about how Sam’s body works, reader is a little feisty haha, Sam is a violent killing machine, blood

-Sam x mechanic!reader-

He’s very well-engineered of course, he was MADE to fight, it’s what he knows, it’s what he does.

However, regardless of how well-built he is…this robot gets into fights ALL the time, and sometimes his enemies fight back, unsurprisingly.

Granted that doesn’t Usually mean anything, but every once in a while he fights something that can ACTUALLY fight back…enter you, the resident Stellaron Hunter’s personal mechanic.

It’s ANNOYING you SWEAR you JUST fixed him and here he comes limping back again-

sigh…

And on the rare occasions when he actually loses the fight and one of the other Stellaron Hunters brings him home in a box? Even worse…C’MON Sam pull it together…

But of course you’re going to fix him. At the end of the day you love your murderous, psychopathic, genetically engineered warrior-

You pulled an all-nighter because of COURSE he’d get himself broken beyond recognition when he has an early morning mission the next day-

As much as you complain to the other Stellaron Hunters about Sam’s reckless habits All of them know you’re not gonna leave.

Blade doesn’t care at all so he stays out of it, but Kafka and Silver Wolf put you on the spot with the whole, “oh if you hate him so much why don’t you leave?” WELL OBVIOUSLY BECAUSE-!! UM!! SHUT UP WHAT DO YOU KNOW?!

Assuming he’s not broken into a million pieces, he is Ridiculously difficult to fix up.

He’s impatient. He doesn’t want to hold still. And he IS an enormous machine so…if he doesn’t want to sit still it’s HARD to get him to sit still.

You’re chasing after him while he paces around your workshop, trying frantically to make repairs while he moves around and your pleas for him to just STOP for a moment fall on deaf ears-

Regardless of how mad you get at him you do admittedly have a REALLY big soft spot for your robot-

Only you’re allowed to get mad at him or say anything bad about him. You get genuinely upset when anyone else says anything negative about him, haha…

Despite the fact that he acts like such a jerk to you, the two of you have a very strong relationship. You’re Very in-tune with each other. Definitely on the level where you can understand what the other is thinking without them needing to say anything.

You’re always tinkering with and improving his weapons’ systems. He’s an ultimate weapon and you treat him as such. Though like I said before he does not like to sit still so when he’s tired of your fiddling he’ll just…heat himself up until he’s too hot to touch. You give him a little smack with your wrench in protest but if he’s gonna be sassy with you there’s not much you can do.

You really have old married couple energy with the way you always fight with each other but would literally do anything for the other-

Eventually you guys just. Are married. Kafka one day sees the ring on your finger and she KNOWS and she cannot BELIEVE you didn’t tell her you and Sam got married-but tbh you don’t even remember when that happened, haha…crazy how you could’ve forgotten considering the EFFORT you went through to get Sam an indestructible ring, and then having to weld it on.

You know he’s a very capable warrior. But you still worry about him. However he has no interest in you teaching him how to repair himself.

You can’t imagine why he’s so stubborn over something like that but little do you know it’s because he wants a reason to convince you to stay around.

Oh you’re the ONLY one who can do his repairs so you can’t leave, right?

You think it’s a little childish of him because Obviously you don’t have any intent of leaving but…fine. You won’t force him to cooperate with you. You’ve never been able to make him do anything he didn’t want to do before anyways.

You tend to get left behind on missions because frankly they’d be in a lot of trouble if you got too hurt to fix up Sam…but every once in a while the Stellaron Hunters are stretched too thin and you’re sent on a mission. But that usually backfires because Sam does NOT approve of you being on your own doing something DANGEROUS like a mission. He’ll find some way to get onto your assignment, regardless of how capable you are. One moment you think you’re on a stealth mission, the next moment…Sam is there. Sam, who doesn’t know the definition of ‘stealth’. You just kinda have to sit back while Sam completely massacres everything in sight. Well. The enemies certainly can’t catch you if they’re all dead. Granted the mission is technically easier but now you have to hide all the blatant evidence that Sam was there killing everything- (also I’m just assuming you’re completely desensitized to all his violence at this point haha…)

He’s lucky you love him so much…why else would you put up with his nonsense?

Also UGH speaking of maintenance, after a mission like that where he slaughters everything-do you have ANY idea how hard it is to get all that blood off of him?? It’s HARD. You’re scrubbing him clean ALL. DAY. While also telling him he needs to LAY OFF ALL THE MURDER-or at least try to be a little less messy?? Please?? All that blood on him is Not good for him-

But despite all the problems he causes for you, he’s YOUR genetically modified warrior. You LOVE him.

And really he’d do ANYTHING for you.

You’ll keep taking care of him. And he’ll protect you in turn, regardless if you need him to or not.

But you work out well. And honestly ever since you started a relationship with Sam, his work ethic is even better than before so…the Stellaron Hunters are certainly not complaining.

Alright I guess that’s what I have for this one~

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #Hsr Sam #honkai star rail Sam #Hsr Sam x reader #honkai star rail Sam x reader

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sunshine-and-moonshine · 11 months

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Cod Sex Bot Au - Random Blurbs

Requested: Yes [Hi! Just found out about your blog and I think I just bingeread almost all of your fics, your writing is actually really captivant ! Especially your "CoD sex bots au". Can we please PLEASE have a part 3 ? Maybe more of Price, Gaz, Roach and Rudy? DONT FORGET TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF AND DRINK WATER!!!]

Warnings: Abundant Fluff

A/N: I didn’t really know what to do so I just did some random little blurbs

Price

Price huffs as his glowing eyes meticulously scan over your messy room, mechanical pupils narrowing at your back as you remain happily oblivious, too focused on your game to even notice his presence. Not until his hands were on the back of your gaming chair, dragging it back a bit before promptly yanking away your controller and headset then scooping you out of the chair, heading towards the living room.

“Hey! Wait! I wasn’t finished!” You yelp, trying to wiggle away to no avail, his metal arms tight around you, keeping you nice and secure. “Damn it! You’re a bot, I’m pretty sure you can’t just manhandle me like this!”

“You are now.” He says, kicking the door to your room shut behind him, using his connection to your advanced home system to lock it behind him, on the off chance you actually managed to sneak away from him. “You’re eating something, something that doesn’t come out of a snack bag, then you’re showering and going to bed. It’s almost midnight.” He tells you sternly.

“You’re not my dad.”

“No, but I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to call me Daddy.”

Gaz

Gaz’s eyes watch you carefully as you mix whatever it was that was in the pot, his curiosity peaked but you wouldn’t let him even glimpse into it. Said it was a surprise. And he didn’t want to ruin all your hard work so he obliged, not that it wasn’t frustrating though. He wasn’t ever very patient.

But he’s pretty sure that it’s worth it when you sit him down, your smile all big and happy as you set a plate full of steaming hot food in front of him, eagerly awaiting for him to dig in and give his opinion.

“It’s delicious!” He tells you happily, his own smile just as bright and full of life.

You looked so happy at his statement that he just couldn’t bring himself to tell you that he didn’t actually have any taste sensors, and he swears to take the secret to his robot grave.

Roach

Roach stares down at you as you lay on the floor, your eyes unfocused and seemingly looking at nothing in particular. He poked your cheek to try and get a reaction out of you and it seemed to work as you scrunch your nose up cutely.

“What are you doing?” He asks you, his hands slow and unsure. He wasn’t supposed to ask questions but….he just couldn’t help himself when it came to you. He wanted to know more about you, about what went on in your mind.

“Staring into the void, wondering when it will swallow me whole and relinquish me from all of life’s burdens.” You say, rather nonchalantly. It made him chuckle and he shook his head at you.

“But I’d be lonely if you went to the void.” He signs, his eyes soft despite being made of metal and glass. “Don’t leave me behind.”

“Don’t worry, Roach. You can come with me. It’s you and me against the world.” You say, and his fans kick into high gear as his face reddens, system overheating.

He was….happy.

Rudy

Rudy grumbles when you turn away from him in your sleep, rolling onto your belly, spread out like a starfish. He peeked his eyes open, night vision mode taking over his eyeballs. He frowned, wondering what awoke him from his powered down mode.

He turned to you, a bit pouty when he saw how far away you were. Sure, he wasn’t the most comfortable thing to lay on, being made of metal and all, but he liked it when you cuddled up to him.

His hand reaches out, touching your cheek gently, amazed by how you lean into his touch, into his warmth. He’d never been more glad to be built with lifelike heating systems.

He brings you closer to him again, his arms wrapping around you to keep you from getting away again, his cheek brushing against your neck before kissing it lovingly. He was glad that he was yours.

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snailsgoingdowntown · 8 months

Text

Intrigued With You

I ii iii iiii

Yandere! Pinocchio x Fem! Mechanic! Reader

Warnings: Implied toxic familial relationship, unbalanced power dynamics between the reader and Geppetto, very slight mental breakdown, slowly going into a downwards spiral, paranoia, mentioned past violence and stalking. When the full game comes out, this work may be completely different from the actual game. Please tell me if I missed any.

This blog contains/creates/interacts with dark content.

Minors/blank blogs/blogs that don’t reblog any fan art or fan fiction DNI.

Word count:3096k

Over all story summary: Your uncle’s puppet takes a bit too much of an interest in you: in which you fucked up in this chapter.

The public’s opinion of you started to go downhill since then.

It’s been a week, and while most of the citizens won’t throw rocks or stalk you, they still stare – glares that are sharper than a knife, cutting deep into your arteries. You could practically feel the blood oozing out, a puddle forming underneath you as you stood on the stage, heart threating to explode any second now. The crowd just stares, and the puppet next to you cheers. How funny. The damn puppet is offering you more support than the intended audience.

Your foot taps against the wood. Your head throbs and you hold back a scream. You’re a monkey in a circus and they’re throwing peanuts at you.

“Hello everyone. I am here today to introduce a new, and improved, Nanny Puppet, upgraded with new codes and everything.” Your smile is strained, some of the people cheering with others sitting in silence. Seems as though some are genuinely interested and perhaps even excited about the new developments.

Glancing at your uncle who rests behind the curtains to the side, he nods his head. But most of his attention was on the puppet rather than you. “And it even comes with settings you can adjust yourself at home.”

The Nanny cheers again, robotic, and staticky still. So lifeless, its entire being written on a script. But as you look over the crowd on the wooden stage, head light and heart thumping like thunder, you feel the same. From the way you are standing, to the wave of your hands and your words, is all scripted.

A script written by your uncle.

“Now, come,” you gesture to The Nanny, and it listens, turning its back towards the crowd as you stand next to it. There’s buttons and latches, and you undo them all, with a quick ‘sorry,’ uttered into its ‘ear.’ A habit you picked up from the years of working with your uncle.

And with the rise of malfunctions, part of you thinks it’s for the best. Pretend you’re sorry to them, and maybe when everything goes south, they’ll take pity on you. Paranoia doesn’t look good on you, you realize, showing the audience the off switch, the lights in its eyes dimming as it turns off. This wasn’t a new feature.

But the kill switch is.

“As you can see, the power switch is still enabled, even in these new models. So, don’t worry about that, but!” you bring out a control panel from your waistcoat pocket. It’s small enough to fit in your hand, and on the black surface lies a red button, a little glass cap covering it. To prevent any accidental touches. You grip it a little too hard.

“This right here is a kill switch. Now, I’m not going to press it,” your thumb rubs circles over the cap. You can’t find it in you to force another smile, mentally and physically drained from everything. “But the moment you press it, the puppet will immediately shut down… but it won’t turn on again, either.”

There’s some ‘ooo’s’ and ‘awe’s,’ but the silence of the rest is what puts you on edge. They’re most likely the protesters. You wouldn’t be surprised if this stage would set fire any minute now. You shudder at the thought. Another glance at your uncle – he nods, again.

But his eyes are still mostly focused on the puppet. You can’t tell if it is in interest, hope, or disappointment. Just like how you can’t tell if there’s still warmth in his eyes when he looks at you.

“How does it work?”

You blink, off guard. A woman raised her hand, curious eyes drilling into you. You prepared yourself for this, practicing in front of a mirror for hours on end. You got this. You need to. You might fall apart otherwise.

“So, essentially, it – “

“Or, how about you don’t make them at all? The puppets, I mean.” A man speaks up, hat hiding his gaze, but you feel the hatred and frustration radiating off him in waves. You prepared yourself for this too. But reality still sends you reeling back mentally, the thought of rocks being thrown, or stage set on fire. At least he pretends to be respectful, even with his group frowning at you.

Your body trembles the slightest bit.

“Oh – um… I understand where you come from. It’s… it can be difficult to see use in the puppets, but they’re mostly here for when you can’t do something or need extra help…” you can’t tell if you’re lying to him or saying the truth – it’s all part of the script. And truthfully, you agree with him.

You just keep your mouth shut on the matter.

“They’re taking our jobs, you know? Oh wait, you probably don’t – you’re well-off, producing and selling these… things.” The same man shakes his head before pushing others out of his way – he stops just shy of an inch before the stage. “You don’t have to worry about them stealing your job. For now, at least.”

He adjusts his hat, and the contempt in his eyes is so heavy you’re on the verge of drowning. You swallow. You do know, you do, but it’s not like you could do anything. You already tried, you tried, but talking doesn’t work and –

“Alright, alright, I think that’s enough for now.” Your uncle comes out, places a hand on your shoulder. It feels more restricting than comforting. “It’s been a rather long day for everyone, hasn’t it? The sun is going down, and dinner time is drawing near. Same place and time tomorrow, as it was yesterday and today.”

Unlike you, he sounds confident. Gentle, but firm, and yet, you’re starting to grow more wary of him than the protesters. You wish you could hurry and pick a side. Money or no money, everything was starting to seem more futile, meaningless. You want to live under a rock.

Live under a rock and become separated from your job. You tap your foot more aggressively, biting your lip once your back is turned to the crowd. Your hands twitch even with the control in your hands.

He doesn’t leave room for debate, guiding you on the shoulder to walk down the stage and to his little personal workshop. The police – puppets, again – prevent anyone from getting close. You weren’t here yesterday; it was just him. Did he go through the same thing? Is that why he’s so calm, so natural about it?

Or was he always like this? Disconnected from everything that did not concern his work, his dreams? His puppet, his –

“… Uncle,” you fiddle with the control in your hands. “Did anyone accompany you yesterday?” You can’t find it in you to look at him. Can’t even talk properly, no matter how hard you try to accept everything, like you should. It’s expected of you. And maybe it is because of that, that you can’t find yourself willing to do so.

“Mm. Howard did. It was a welcomed surprise.” He chuckles low in his throat, adjusting his hat as you make way home. Guilt immediately starts to boil within, your heart squeezing painfully as your throat closes in on itself. “He’s a fine young man indeed.”

“He is, isn’t? Such a nice young man…” you agree, nodding your head, ignoring the gnawing at your chest. You care about him, dreadfully so, to the point it was horribly painful. Which was why you tried to keep him out of your business.

But he was just so stubborn.

“Hm,” he takes a glance at you; eyes shifting from one side to another. You see it but don’t think much of it. But even so, you can’t ignore the lack of warmth in his gaze. “I heard he’s been visiting you more often now. Are you two perhaps…?”

“No! No, it’s not like that. It won’t ever be like that again.” You laugh, shaking your head. You fidget with the control more. You look down at your hands – scars and light burns decorate them like tattoos. No longer as ‘pretty’ as society would like to describe.

The though brings out a laugh.

“It just won’t work out.”

“How come?” He sounds interested, but not in a caring way – it was in a way that made you feel like a test subject. “You were such a great pair. He would have made an excellent son-in-law for your parents.”

You grit your teeth. “Yeah. He would have. But that’s neither here nor there; it’s in the past. And it will forever remain in the past.” Your face feels hot – anger? Shame? Annoyance and irritation jabbing at every corner of your very being, you try your best to remain stoic about the conversation. Even if you subconsciously know he’s taking a jab at you.

Even though he has no reason to.

You were sure of it now – all of the warmth that was inside your uncle was slowly becoming cold. Was he always this type of man? Cold? Disconnected from everything? But surely, there was still some left for you, right?

A faint chuckle. “I apologize – I shouldn’t have brought up the subject. I wasn’t aware that it was still a touchy subject.” His fingers dig into your shoulder before his grip loosens. He pats it twice before fully letting you go, turning his head to smile at you.

You think it was meant to be gentle. “It’s fine. It was my fault for… assuming you had other intentions by bringing it up.” It’s a lie. It wasn’t fine, and you both know that. But it should be okay, because he’s a man you consider to be your uncle, and of course uncle Geppetto always wants what’s best for you. It would crush you if he didn’t.

“Mm, that’s the spirit. Don’t let anything drag you down.” You’re at his personal workshop now, the wind picking up. It’s getting colder. The leaves are starting to fall more and more, flowers wilting as the days go by. Just like you.

“Now then, I hope you take great care of him. I have other business to attend to, but I wanted to make sure you made it back safe and sound.” Your uncle gives you exactly two pats on the back. Adjusting his glasses, he turns to look at you, smiling.

Smiling, smiling, smiling – it’s all he does. It’s what unnerves you the most. It’s what the citizens hate about him. It’s what unarms your family. It’s what feels the most inhuman about him.

“Yes, of course,” you reply, nodding your head. Your fingers start scrapping against the control gently. Foot tapping, you attempt to smile. “I would never harm… it. It is also my project, you know?”

It wasn’t.

“Mm, yes, of course. Thank you for all your hard work.” And with a tilt of his hat, he’s off – you watch his retreating back, the muscles with every movement. You just realized he could easily overpower you.

Your fingers dig harder into the control until you can feel your fingernails digging into your own flesh. You wonder if he would turn against you if you were to abandon this job field.

Two hours and forty minutes.

That’s how long you have been tampering with the legion arm – your uncle begged you to stop calling it a mechanical arm – greasing it, tightening the screws, making sure that the fingers curl just like a real hand would. And of course it did – it should, especially since nearly all your paychecks and funds go into this puppet and not your own personal life.

Two hours and forty minutes, plus two months and you’re barely about to be done with this damn thing. You finished two other ones before this, but even then, you might have to ‘fix’ them. Make sure that they’re up to your uncle’s very high standards.

“Fuck… why am I even working on this thing? This is the least of our concerns, not to mention – ow, fuck!” In your hurry to get another type of screwdriver, you pushed over a failed ‘heart’ test dummy. It lands directly on your foot, causing you to drop everything else as you hold it with your trembling hands.

They were doing that more often. “Wow, okay, great. Sure, let’s just let everything fall on you. God, I’m going crazy. I might turn into a menace before the protesters and puppets do.” Running a hand through your hair, you pace back in forth, biting your free thumb.

Every time you enter this godforsaken place, your sanity dwindles bit by bit. “Okay, let’s calm down – my foot isn’t bleeding, I think. I should… I should take a break.” Despite your words, you go back to working – picking up the old ‘heart’ and placing it back on the messy table.

Research papers messily stacked at a corner, puppet parts scattered all over, grease stains on the wood. The table wears scratch marks like medals of honor. Pausing for a moment, you walk to the far-right side of the table, picking up the papers and placing them into a clean square bin on the floor. You kick it to some random corner of the workshop.

The urge to rip them to shreds is, in a way, comforting. If those were gone, how could you continue on? They even had blueprints. Nails dig into your palms at the thoughts. Not harsh enough to draw blood, however.

“Hm, I should clean up… but what’s the point? Everything gets scattered again, uncle moves the parts to the most random of places, Howard ends up losing them… so much to do, such little time.”

Ranting to yourself, you stomp to the table again, picking up the new and ‘official’ heart for the puppet. You remember putting it elsewhere. In a drawer. Safe and sound.

And yet, it was on this stupid, stupid table –

“Are they trying to kill me?” you mumble out, on the verge of pulling out strands of your hair. “Not only that, but the fact I could have been harmed today… he knows they already threw stones at me, why make me appear in public again? Why get on the wooden stage that could easily be consumed by fire?”

Without thinking, you stride over to the puppet sitting on the red plush chair. When you’re shy a few inches from it, you take a moment to admire its beauty – the eyes were closed. Long eyelashes that cast shadows onto pale, freckled ‘skin.’ The carob brown hair still looked as soft as ever, with messy curls that remind you of his hair back when he was younger.

Back when everything was normal. Gentler times where warmth wasn’t forced into honeyed words, when you weren’t so scared of being beaten to death. When everything was fine. Happy.

It was missing the left arm – the legion arm. You cast a glance behind you, spotting the arm on the table. That’s the one he wants to put on for now. The most simple, basic one, no complicated functions, no paint, just metal. You decide to leave it.

Turning to face the puppet again, tilting your head, you really take in its appearance; it has an average body type. Maybe a bit more on the lean side, but aside from the pretty face and missing arm, it looked human. It looked normal.

And that’s what scares you.

“…,” against your better judgement, your hand reaches out. Fingertips graze against the cheeks, feeling how cold and smooth it was. It’s flawless compared to your hand. You pause to see if the puppet will move at your touch. When it doesn’t, you bring your hand up, taking a closer step to it. The hair was soft, fluffy. It didn’t feel fake like it should.

It felt real.

“… I shouldn’t be doing this. Hah. I really am going crazy.” The thread that was holding your sanity together was close to snapping. Again, against your better judgement, you act on impulse. Unbuttoning the white button-down, you feel your heart drop at how… human it looks.

But upon closer inspection, there was a thin line, forming a square across the chest. There was a little screw, the opening to inside of the chest. Huffing, you dig into your overcoat pocket, retrieving the specific screwdriver – your uncle makes you carry it like a lifeline. However, you are not sure if he thought it through – what if someone mugged you?

Your hand hesitates as you hold the screwdriver, hovering by the opening. The ‘heart’ was still in your hands. It starts to beat slowly, almost as if coming to life. “… Uncle might kill me if I mess with his favorite puppet…”

Instead of heeding your own words, you open the chest cavity, placing the screwdriver back into your pocket. You’ve seen it before; hollow, wires connecting with each other and to the sides. There’s a small open space where a human heart would be. You look at the one in your hand before nodding your head.

You were acting rebellious, in a way. And it may very well lead into your downfall, either being killed by a puppet going haywire or by your uncle’s red, blinding rage.

You hesitate before gently putting the ‘heart’ into its assigned area. Connecting the wires to it, patting it, watching as it starts to glow, beating steadily. You did not think twice about your actions. After a second, you close it, screwing it shut before walking serval steps away.

Nothing happens.

“Hah… ha-ha, what was I thinking? I went from zero to a hundred within a few minutes… I should take a few days off. Maybe even a week…” chuckling to yourself, you rub your head. You’re getting a migraine. Much be too much caffeine, that coffee would eventually kill you.

Turning around, you walk away from the puppet, heading towards the door to get some fresh air. To force some sanity back into your head before you scream your lungs out and pull out every single strand of your hair out. The longer you stay here, the worse you become.

Creak.

You stop in your tracks, blood turning cold. No. surely not – your eyes widen when you realize how stupid you are. You were dumb enough to connect the wires to the heart. But! When your uncle did that, this didn’t –

You turn your head around so fast you almost snap your neck. Your heart drops.

It opens its eyes, and the first thing it sees is you.

tag list:

@ijustreblogstuff-i-like @chiofany @quzbea @cute-angi

@nealcaffrey2129 @connorsoddsock

@rositabluemoon

#yandere x reader #lies of p #lies of p x reader #yandere lies of p #yandere lies of p x reader #lies of p pinocchio #pinocchio #pinocchio x reader #yandere pinocchio #yandere pinocchio x reader

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dead-byte · 7 months

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I’ve been on a bit of a Portal kick lately, and playing through Portal 2 again, there’s one particular aspect of the story I can’t stop thinking about, and that I haven’t seen anyone talk about.

Wheatley.

He was literally built to be moronic, and conjure ideas that should not work at all.

But when you consider Wheatley’s actions throughout the plot… he’s actually pretty smart if you think about it.

Like, yeah, he’s bumbling and sometimes can’t figure out seemingly basic concepts, but in other respects, Wheatley is frighteningly capable, even before he betrays the player.

He’s the one who comes up with the plan to shut down the turret production line and the neurotoxin generator. While obviously Chell does most of the legwork to achieve that, GLaDOS was caught completely off-guard and defenseless. To say nothing of how he managed to navigate the facility far enough to interrupt you in the middle of a test to help you escape.

And that’s to say nothing of how after he betrays you, and expresses his intent to kill you, he tricks you into thinking that he’s going to do it later down the line, before suddenly springing a trap on you that even GLaDOS compliments.

And then the boss fight. Wheatley not only thought to re-watch the old recordings of when Chell defeated GLaDOS, but even used that to prepare himself to avoid meeting the same fate. And even after you beat him, he booby-traps the stalemate button, and if completely crazy idea of portaling all the way to the moon hadn’t worked, Wheatley would have won ( albeit, he would have destroyed the facility too, but still ).

Like, on the last two points, I sort of initially thought Wheatley being smarter was due to the influence of GLaDOS’s body. But when I think about it, he totally displays a penchant for schemes and even outsmarting GLaDOS even before then - and I can’t help but wonder what that means for the little robot who was literally built to be as stupid as possible. GLaDOS literally describes him as an “idiot made to come up with stupid unworkable plans”, but… most of his plans throughout the game actually DO work, give or take.

#portal #GLaDOS #Wheatley #Chell #aperture science #valve #portal 2 #video games #portal companion collection #potatos

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drewsbuzzcut · 7 months

Text

I Feel You No Matter What

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses fic (this part is lightly edited btw)

warnings: minor angst, few curse words, and i think that’s it

“Babe?” You hear your husband call out for you, but you’re busy breastfeeding Sloane while also helping AJ eat his dinner, while also monitoring Nolan as he eats.

“Mommy, can I have more berries?” Nolan requests and you immediately move to serve him as best you can with one available hand.

Once you’ve situated Nolan and go back to feeding Sloane, you rest your eyes, feeling the effects of the multiple long nights taking a toll on you. Sloane has been on a sleep regression and every time she cries during the night, she ends up waking AJ. You’re usually the one tending to them as the hockey season is starting, and Mat needs sleep.

“Mommy, I’m done! Can I have some water?” Nolan asks, interrupting your silly excuse of a nap.

You move, almost robotic, around the kitchen as you give Nolan water and clean up Angel’s mess. Once you’re done with that task, you burp Sloane and rock her in your arms.

“Babe?” Mat calls out once again, finally finding you in the kitchen.

“Yes, Mathew?” You sigh out, eyes clenched shut because you really just want to sleep.

He stays quiet, though. He watches you as you practically fall asleep while leaning against the kitchen island.

He clears his throat, gaining your attention.

“What?” You ask, eyes peering into his.

“Do you need help?” Mat asks, trying to mask the disappointment when you didn’t realize he got a haircut.

“Can you put Sloane in her crib, I need to take a shower,” it’s not a question, not really. You were just telling him how he can help.

After your shower, you take both your boys a bath, tucking them into bed while Mat bathes Sloane. You’re so glad that they’re down and you can rest, but then you realize you still have laundry to do. You take a deep breath in and slowly breathe out.

“Babe, I need help!” Mat calls out for you.

“Yes?”

“Do you think I should wear my navy blue polo or my black polo?” He asks.

“I don’t know, Mathew. Whichever one you want,” you mumble.

“Well I want you to pick it out,” he whispers.

“I don’t have time for this. I need to go downstairs and sort out all our laundry,” you reply, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose.

“All you have to do is pick one. I’m asking nicely.”

“And I’m telling you that I have better things to do. Both are fine so pick one,” you say, walking out of your bedroom and down the stairs.

You take your time, not wanting to go upstairs because you know the way you were acting was uncalled for. You still can’t bring yourself to apologize for it, though. You’re frustrated and tired.

When you do, finally, go upstairs, you’re expecting Mat to be asleep. He isn’t. You ignore each other as you both get ready for bed. Your movements are sluggish and by the time you’re done, Mat is already settled in bed. You get under the covers, turning on your side, eyes quickly falling shut.

“Seriously?” You barely hear the word coming out of your husband’s mouth.

You slowly turn towards him, eyes wide at his small outburst.

“No “goodnight,” no kiss? You didn’t even notice I got a haircut,” he points out, voice sounding broken.

You’re stunned, shocked into silence. You feel your heart crumble at the mere fact that you didn’t even realize your own husband got a haircut. You also hate the way he sounded so sad when he said you didn’t say goodnight or give him a kiss.

“You’ve also been calling me by my name instead of "babe," or "barzy,” did I do something wrong?”

“No. I’m sorry. I’m just tired and frustrated because I’m tired,” you explain.

“So you just decided to ignore me, because then I’m one less thing for you to worry about? Nice to know that I’m not so important,” he whispers, turning his back towards you.

“Mat, please. I’m sorry and I didn’t ignore you because I didn’t want to deal with you. I'm just burnt out. The hockey season is just starting and I need to get back into our routine, a routine that needs to be readjusted because we have a third child,” you say out loud into the darkness that’s coated by silence.

“That doesn’t mean for you to ignore me. Especially when I was trying to help you as soon as I got home. I would never ignore you because no matter what I love you,” he responds, and it feels like a punch in the gut when he refers to your actions as you not loving him.

You don’t say anything else, you know there are no words you can say right now that can make things better. You could tell him you love him, but you feel the lump forming in your throat, keeping you silent.

The next morning, you wake up alone in your bed. A pout forms on your face when you reach out for Mat’s body, only to be met with cold sheets. Then, you remember the events from last night and you feel your tears clouding your vision all over again. It’s a hard task to get yourself out of bed, but you know that Mat will be leaving soon and the kids can’t take care of themselves.

Making your way downstairs, you hear Nolan’s favorite morning cartoons playing on the large tv in your living room. You spot Mat sitting on the couch, both boys on each of his sides, and Sloane settled in his arms. She’s staring at him, not caring about all the noise, just him. You get her. You could also just get lost in him.

Mat turns towards the stairs when he hears them creek, his eyes locking with yours. Only this time, he doesn’t look at you with effortless love, he looks at you with hurt eyes that look sunken in and dark. You hope he wasn’t awake all last night, and you hope that he didn’t hear you forcefully quiet your sobs. Surely he was asleep. He had to be. If he was awake and heard or felt you crying, he would’ve comforted you. At least you hope he would’ve.

“Did Sloane eat already?”

“Yeah, she won’t fall asleep, though,” he answers.

“She’s too busy looking at her daddy,” you say, trying to lighten the mood. Your efforts aren’t successful.

“I have to go in 10 minutes, can you get her,” you’re immediately reaching out for Sloane, heart twisting when she starts crying.

“Sloane, it’s okay, baby. Don’t cry. Daddy has to go to work. He’ll be back soon,” you say, but as you get through each word, the more your tears threaten to fall. You start crying with Sloane, and you think you’re so pathetic for it.

You leave the boys on the couch and hastily take Sloane upstairs. You didn’t want Mat to see you cry, although you’re pretty sure he already saw you.

You lay Sloane in her crib, quickly walking out but bumping into Mat on the way.

“Are you okay?” He asks, voice soft.

“Fine. You need to get going,” you mutter.

“I need to make sure my wife is okay.”

You just about crumble onto the floor, knees buckling from underneath you and your sobs finally being unleashed from their death grip. Mat swiftly holds onto you, lowering the both of you to sit on the cold floor.

“You think I don’t love you anymore,” you spit out.

“Don’t deny it. You think that I ignored you because I don’t love you anymore, and that kills me,” you continue when he tries to deny your claim.

He looks at you with that same heartbroken look from last night.

“I’m a terrible wife because you don’t think I love you and I didn’t notice your haircut,” you sob out.

“You’re not a terrible wife.”

You grab his hand, moving it to rest over your heart.

“When I see you, I still feel like a schoolgirl with a huge crush. You still give me butterflies; you still make me blush like crazy. I’m so in love with you, it hurts that you can’t see it,” you say truthfully, hand on his cheek so that he’s looking into your eyes.

“I’m sorry. I know you love me.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s fine that you felt unloved,” you try to stop him from feeling bad.

“Well, I’m sorry that you’re tired and frustrated. I’m sorry that I can’t be here to help you. I love you so much.” He connects his lips with yours, letting his tongue tangle with yours when your mouth opens for him.

“I love you, barzy. Please don’t think otherwise. As for you not being here, it’s not your fault. It’s not like I didn’t know what I was getting myself into when we got married or decided to have kids. I love you and I love that you work so hard for us and yourself. I love you,” you state, kissing his jaw down to his neck.

You come to a stop when you feel something wet landing on your collarbones. You quickly lift Mat’s head to see tears falling from his eyes.

“What’s wrong, baby? Why are you crying?” You ask, tears falling because you hate to see him upset.

“I feel like shit for making you feel like shit. I’m supposed to always lift you up,” he mutters.

You wipe away his tears, kissing his lips repeatedly until his tears stop. You softly massage his scalp while he catches his breath.

“Baby, you had every right to feel the way you did. Never be afraid to be honest with me. I was the shitty one. It’s okay, no harm done. We’re good, now. I love you.”

“I love you,” he says against your skin from where his head is buried in your neck.

“The haircut, by the way, is not the best decision. However, you’re lucky that you’re always sexy no matter what,” you tease him.

“I kind of regret it, too,” he grimaces, but you just pull him into another kiss, happy that you’re not at odds anymore.

a/n: Sorry it’s been a while since I last updated for this series. I hope y’all enjoy!! If you have any requests for this story, send in!!

#mat barzal #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal angst #mat barzal smut #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new york islanders #visceral in doses

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bittenbyyou · 11 months

Text

Stolen Moments

High School!AU | MCU!Peter Parker x Best Friend!Reader

genre: fluff

description: You and Peter’s first kiss didn’t go the way you planned.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: references to Spider-Man: Far From Home, Peter not knowing any fairytales/Disney princesses and being a lovable dork

a/n: Another snippet based on real life events of how my bf and i got together lol. Enjoy the fluff and please feel free to let me know if you liked it!

One thing you loved most about your best friend was his inability to remember classic fairy tales. No matter how many times you summarized them, Peter would find a way to botch it every single time. Even going so far as to invent alternative story lines, which never failed to crack you up. You would tease him endlessly for it, but then he’d grill you for having never watched Star Wars or any of the Harry Potter movies. That’s what we’d call balance in your friendship.

“Fairy tale pop quiz!” Peter groaned dramatically as he plopped down on his couch, phone in hand with your big grinning face on FaceTime.

“Not fairy tales… anything but those. They’re my weakness,” he whined. You laid on your side in bed, giggling.

“The great Peter Parker who’s in band, robotics, and the decathlon can’t recall a few simple fairy tales?”

“Well, I actually quit those,” he shared, ruffling the back of his hair with a sheepish grin. Your face fell, eyes wide and concerned.

“Wait, when? Why?”

It’s not like Peter could tell you he was Spider-Man even though he really, really wanted to. The less you knew, the better. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if anything happened to you.

“I’m really busy.”

“Stark Internship?”

His eyes lit up when you gave him a reason. “Right, yes!”

Thank god for your incredible memory. “Makes sense. It’s been a while since we’ve even FaceTimed each other. You’re usually so busy at night.”

He saw the way your lips pouted as your crestfallen eyes looked away from the camera, making his chest feel tight. “I miss you too.”

Your gaze flickered back up to meet his own. Peter gulped, wondering if he sounded too emotional. Too affectionate. Too… obvious.

“Touché, Parker,” you said, rolling onto your back. “Okay, no more stalling. Tell me… which fairy tale princess ate the poison apple?”

Peter shut his eyes tight, thinking carefully. You both went to LegoLand one time and there was a display case that had the poison apple. You had asked him the same question then, pointing at the apple excitedly.

“Before we’re old would be nice,” you teased. Peter lifted up his index finger and shushed you.

“Hold on, I got it,” His eyes fluttered open after remembering there was a small sign next to the poison apple display. “Little Mermaid.”

“Why would The Little Mermaid eat a poisonous apple?!” You bursted out into laughter at his confidence. “Dude, you said the same thing back when we went to LegoLand. The sign was in the wrong spot.”

“Darn it,” he muttered with a snap of his fingers.

“I’ll give you a hint. Weather.”

“... Tornadoes?”

“What princess has “tornado” in her name?!” you exclaimed, trying your best not to wheeze. Peter couldn’t help but join in the laughter, knowing he was making a fool of himself.

“You snorted,” he said in a taunting voice. “Gross.”

“Shut up, you love it.”

It’s true. He loved your laugh. Mostly because you always laughed with your whole body and sometimes would keel over. Even in public. In fact, you were probably about to fall off your bed right this second because your face suddenly became blurry and shaky.

“Did you almost fall?”

You successfully caught yourself and your phone before it fell on your face. “No,” you readjusted your position and cleared your throat, “Try again. It’s cold weather.”

“It can’t be Frozen… I think I’d remember that. You’ve never said anything about an apple in Mulan the many times you’ve told me her story…” You nodded many times, appreciating the fact he remembered your love for Mulan. You saw how his brows furrowed in concentration, loving how serious he was taking this. “Snow White.”

“Good j—”

“Oh!” he shouted all of a sudden, almost giving you a heart attack. “She’s the one with the seven smurfs, right?!”

Oh Peter Parker…. You’re the cutest human alive, you thought.

Another wave of laughter overcame you, which intensified tenfold once you saw the big dumb smile on Peter’s face. The boy really thought he got it right.

“No… honey, they’re dwarfs,” you said once the laughter subsided.

“... Same thing,” he said, followed by a shrug. “I knew that.”

“Oh, we’re in for a long night. How about Jack and the Beanstalk?” That one should be easy.

“Ooh! Um… wait, I got it, quit laughing, I haven't even started,” he said, chuckling at how you placed a hand on your mouth to refrain from laughing more. “A guy sells a dog or cow or sheep for beans that grow into a big bean stalk and climbs up there and I think there’s a giant in the clouds? I don’t know.”

“I like how you completely disregarded the part where he was persuaded to sell his animal for magical beans, but okay. Pretty good.” You gave him a wink, which he returned.

“Told you I’m good at this.”

“Uh huh. Last one.”

Peter gave you a nod. “Go for it.”

“Cinderella.”

“Easy. She’s the one with long hair, with the glass shoes that’s supposed to be a perfect fit but somehow falls off and I think the guy uses her hair to find her and climb the castle before midnight when some magic wears off…”

You didn’t have enough energy to laugh and risk your abs becoming a liability, so you opted for parting your lips open slightly, shocked at how someone could be so, so wrong.

“I think there’s some sisters or step sisters in it too!” he added, giving himself a pat on the back. “Nailed it.”

“Quite the opposite,” you said, shaking your head. “I love your dumbass sometimes.”

He knew you were using the word as a term of endearment, so it made him smile. He loved you too. So much.

“What’s occupying all that headspace of yours these days that you can never remember the stories?” you teased.

You are… and Spider-Man, Peter thought to himself.

"Oh you know, there's an ongoing battle between my inner monologue and my stomach's incessant cravings for Aunt May's chocolate chip cookies. Spoiler alert: the cookies usually win."

“Oh my gosh, her cookies are the best.”

“Right?”

You both laid on your sides, a comforting silence blanketing the two of you for a few seconds.

“So um…” you started to say, a twinge of nervousness in your voice. “Because your knowledge on Cinderella is so—”

“Awesome?”

“Awful,” you corrected, smiling at his lame joke. “I was wondering if you wanted to go see the school play this Friday. They’re performing Cinderella.”

Peter sat up from his couch. “You mean, you and me, g-going together?”

“Yeah. MJ didn’t want to go because seeing a damsel in distress who solely relies on a man saving her kills her vibe.” Peter chuckled at that. “Are you and Ned doing anything?”

“No.”

“Oh good,” You paused. “You can invite him to come too!”

Oh.

Peter hid his disappointment by placing his phone down on the couch for a split second, gathering his thoughts. Why was he assuming that this was a date? Of course you’d ask Ned to come too. He was so silly.

“Peter?” you said. “Peter~, are you still there?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m here.” He picked up the phone and gave you a thumbs up. “I’ll go. And I’ll ask Ned about it.”

“Cool. See ya then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Peter was so nervous. Which he knew was ridiculous because this was not a date, yet he spent hours picking out an outfit. What does one even wear to a school play anyway? In the end, he slipped on a white button-up with some jeans and headed to the school.

He saw you standing by the front doors, wearing a pretty blouse and shorts. Simple but cute nonetheless. You always looked pretty to him.

“Hey! Sorry I’m late,” Peter said while running up the steps to get to you. “Were you waiting long?”

You shook your head. “Not at all. The play starts in five minutes, so you made it on time.”

“Good. Good…” Now that he was up close, Peter noticed how you styled your hair differently from what you usually did. “Did you do something to your hair?”

“Yeah… is it weird?”

Peter shook his head rapidly. “No, you look good.”

“Just good?”

“Great. Spectacular. Fantastic,” he said with exploding hand motions.

You giggled. “Okay Mr. Thesaurus. Where’s Ned?”

“Ned told me he didn’t want to go.” Which Peter was secretly thankful for, but he’d never let you know that.

“Okay. Then it’ll just be us two. Let’s go.”

The two of you walked to the front doors and you didn’t miss how Peter practically ran in front of you just to open it first. You thanked him and then made your way to the school’s auditorium. Peter always suggested sitting in the back, claiming it had the best view but in reality, it’d be the easiest for him to slip away if duty called.

You did notice his backpack, finding it slightly odd he brought it to school after hours. However, you didn’t think too much of it because Peter always carried a backpack. It was handy when the two of you hung out at the mall and snuck in snacks into the movie theater or when you accidentally bought too much stuff at Target after claiming you only needed one thing.

“I bet Betty is going to look so beautiful. She’s Cinderella,” you said as you sat down on Peter’s left side.

You’re beautiful.

“Really? And Ned’s not the prince? I wonder how he feels about that.”

“Oh, they broke up,” you informed him. “I found out yesterday.”

“What? Dang, we could’ve had a double date,” he joked, testing the waters with you. You playfully smacked his arm.

“In your dreams.”

The lights soon dimmed, letting you and Peter know the play was about to begin. Honestly, the play was far more entertaining than expected because it turned out to be a parody of Cinderella, much to your horror. Peter was relishing at how upset you were, whispering to him every few minutes on how the story “wasn’t accurate.” Honestly, it was super adorable seeing you so worked up.

You leaned close to Peter’s ear, causing his breath to hitch. “This is so ridiculous. It’s supposed to be a pumpkin carriage, not pumpkin pie.”

“... There’s supposed to be a carriage?” he whispered back.

“See, this play is tainting your mind.”

“But you can’t tell me you’re not enjoying it.”

“It is pretty funny,” you admitted, noticing his arm on your shared armrest. You were about to place your hand on top of his when Nick Fury’s stern voice echoed loudly in his ear.

“Parker. Are you in position?”

“No,” Peter said loud enough for you to hear. You immediately retracted your hand and Peter realized what you were about to do.

“No…?” you said softly. The look of hurt in your eyes made Peter panic.

“And why the hell not?” Nick Fury interrogated. Peter slapped his ear/earpiece to shut it up.

“I-I didn’t mean that. Um… I need to go to the restroom.”

“You okay?”

“I’m…” His mind raced for an excuse. “I’m feeling sick, um, I ate dairy and you know I’m lactose intolerant and all that.” He got out of his seat awkwardly, your eyes never leaving him. It pained him to see you so worried. “Oof, I’m feeling it now. Gonna be a while.”

He held onto his stomach to make for a convincing act.

“Okay. Feel better.”

He apologized to you and then ran out of the auditorium.

“Parker, you better be on your way,” Fury’s voice warned.

“I’m coming,” Peter huffed, looking at the backside of your head one last time before disappearing.

Peter finished his mission by the time the play had already ended. He saw you were sitting at the front of the school on the steps, so he had to go through the back and exit as if he had come from the restrooms.

“Whoo~! That was painful,” Peter said as he approached you, hand on his stomach and backpack on his back. He let out a sharp exhale and watched your expressions to see if you were buying it. “I really shouldn’t have eaten that ice cream… I’m sorry. I left you all alone.”

“It’s okay. Betty says hi by the way.”

“Oh. Hi.” He held his hand up and waved at you as if you were Betty. That earned a chuckle from you. “I really am sorry. What did I miss?”

He took the seat next to you on the steps. “Well, it’s safe to say you’ll never learn the real story of Cinderella. Or at least the Disney version.”

“Was it that bad?”

“The worst.”

He nudged his shoulder against yours, flashing you a warm smile. “Are you mad at me?”

“A little. I waited outside the restrooms for you, but you took so long.”

“... It really hurt my bowels. The battle was rough.”

You rolled your eyes. “Uh huh. You know what, I’ll forgive you if you can answer one thing. What’s something pretty much all the Disney princesses have in common?”

Peter pouted his lips in confusion, searching his brain for a possible answer. “They’re… girls?”

“No… they all get kissed by the end of the movie.”

“O-Oh… Oh. Oh~,” he shot you a perplexed look. “Have you… ever been kissed?”

You nodded. “Yeah. By my ex-boyfriend.” Ah, right. Peter was not fond of him at all. “What about you?”

“Me? No…” he looked down at the cement. “Not yet.”

“Didn’t you and Liz date? You guys didn’t kiss?”

He shook his head. “No. And I’d probably messed it up anyway.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Well in the movies and stuff it’s always perfectly well executed.”

You scooted a bit closer to him so that your knees would touch. “That’s only in movies. Most people’s first kiss is awkward.”

“Was yours?”

“Yeah. But I’d like to think I’m way better at it now.”

That made Peter’s eyes widen, but he still kept his gaze glued to the ground. “I-Is that so?”

“I mean… Do you want to find out?”

He finally lifted his head up to look at you. You reached your hand over, caressing the side of his face and he leaned into your touch right away. Was this a dream? Because his heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest. Having his first kiss was one thing but having it with you? That’s all he ever wanted.

“There’s no such thing as a perfectly executed first kiss. But I’d like to try to give you one if you want,” you said softly.

“Y-Yeah… that’d be nice.”

You smiled and leaned in closer, but Peter got too eager and pecked you on the lips first. He couldn’t help it. He’s been wanting to kiss you since forever. So yeah, it was sloppy and unplanned with zero technique. He honestly almost missed. You stared at him, too stunned to speak for a moment before your face twisted into frustration.

“Peter!”

“What?”

“That's not how it was supposed to be! I was going to kiss you soft and sweet and slow and it was supposed to be romantic. You ruined it!”

“I’m pretty happy with it,” he said nervously. The look you gave him screamed murder.

“Ugh. Well, that’s all you get. Your first kiss. Rushed and terrible.”

“I can live with that.”

You blushed for the first time that night and Peter had to stop himself from doing a backflip out of joy.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker #peter parker mcu #peter parker imagine #peter parker x oc #peter parker x y/n #my writing #stolen moments

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