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writingoddess1125 · 7 months

Text

My Heart Breaks Pt. 2

Warning: Angst then Fluff

Buggy X FemReader

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Part 1

Replaced the Photo! Cause this was too perfect! Art belongs to Vamos_MK on twitter!!

You stared up at the blue sky with a tired sigh, finally you were free.. Over two fucking decades it had taken to escape and you did it God damn it!

For the last 20 years you had been imprisoned in the Impel Down- It had been awful yo say the least.. constantly you were trying to protect yourself and saw that the man who had sent you here had been extra cruel in doing so- well not you but the women who you took her place..

You still felt guilt in knowing she had died in your place.. but you couldnt help but be greatful she had wanted to die due to her cause in an accidental death. You hoped in her afterlife she was happy..

However death was definitely kinder then the prison- with monsters at every turn and trying to keep sex deprived prisoners from trying to have their way with you it had been a battle. You had scratched, fought and squeezed your way out of that hellhole.

After a changing of guards you had managed to slip out- unlike most of the prisoners in the Impel Down you had the enate abilies to swim so you did. Stealing a dingy that a negligent marine most likely left behind you made it out. Paddling like your life depended on it sway from that place, however you were in no position to cry in relief yet.

It was another 2 days of paddling before you manages to get to an island. Starving and dehydrated you snuck to the back end of the tiny island so no one saw your prison uniform. Stealing some berries and a pair of clothes from a small cottage you made it through the village, it was clear this place was poor- you blended in with the people who were just as hungry as you and with less berries then you had nabbed.

You went into a pub getting what you could afford, which was bread and cheese and a ale. You took these and stood outside to eat your meal which tasted no better then ash in your mouth.

Looking around you saw two better dressed men walk out of the pub, batting a poor boy on the back and laughing. Congratulating him for joining their merchant ship- catching your ear you finished your meal and drink quickly, following the men. Seeing a large ship with a line of young men wanting to join the ship for a better life and opportunity, so you join them.

Once you reached to the top of the ship, a old man held out a cane to your chest to keep you from moving forward.

"What do you want lady?-" The old Captian sneered at you, Glaring down at your dirty form.

"You're looking for sailors correct?" You say sharply, Taking a steady breath to still your nerves.

"What can a thing like you do on a ship? Do you even have sailing experience?" The Captian laughed in your face. You clenched your fist and glared hard at the asshole.

"Yes I have sailed since I was young- I can.. do cleaning and maintance" You lied a bit- not talking about your skills as a thief since this is just a merchant and not pirates like you were used to. The Captian stared at you for a moment before sighing with a shrug.

"Fine- Welcome to the May's Fairy Lady" He grumbled as he gestured for you to get on board. Sighing in relief as you had a way to sea and a income.

However that was better said then in reality-

To say the merchant ship was terrible as well had been an understatement- It was like the Impel Down all over again.. a group of touch starved and angry men who saw you as an easy target. Thankfully due to your skills you were able to evade any advances, during the day you would stay in the Lower Deck to avoid the men, cleaning and eating the stale bread and water you snagged not trusting the cook since he liked to Leer at you far too long.

At night you would travel to the Main Deck and clean up there and sleep till dawn or if the ship rocked a bit too hard. This had been your like for 3 months till one evening.

While mopping the floor of the deck you looked up at the dark sky, remembering the night with Buggy before that big heist. Grabbing him and kissing his suddently as a way to express your interest in him... your heart hurt at remembering his face when you saw him last at the bars of the window, Placing your bandana and kissing a kiss on the back of his hand.

Snapping you from your melancholy thoughs was a loud bang, seeing what looked like a firework shoot up right above you. Several crew mates from below deck also came up at hearing the noise, you watched the firework come directly on top of the ship before exploding in a cloud of red- It was beautiful. Your favorite shade of red too. The crew began to panic at seeing this as the cloud settled on the ship, you felt woozy and uneasy on your feet before you fell to the damp ground before darkness took you a large shadowy form of a ship came closer and you swore you heard circus music.

Groaning you felt yourself sitting up, a harsh digging from metal against your ankles and wrist. Jerking awake you saw you were seated in wooden benches in a dark room, Hearing the groaning and panic of others around you. You pulled at the chains slightly but winced at how tight they were.

Suddently bright lights turned on, You saw your crew chained up and seated next to you staring at a lowered stage. Your breath picking up as circus music started up, watching as different acts come up- it was almost exactly like how you remembered the show you went to in your childhood? Like someone recreating it from memory? People pulled out sighs to applaud which you saw the merchant nervously do.

"No No NO! It's wrong! That is not how a crowd should clap!" You heard a sharp voice say, walking onto the stage- He looked like a pirate Captian and not apart of the circus. You did see clown paint on his face and a red clown nose- which made your eyes narrow at the sight.

Your eyes focused on the grown man- Watching as he commanded the crowd with a twisted smile and yelled at the circus people. He sighed dramtically and looked in the direction of the crowd- chastising them for their lack of enthusiasm and not laughing with the cues. However the wind felt like it was knocked from your lungs.. You knew those eyes.. that blue hair expertly tucked away and real rounded red nose.

"Bugs?" You called out loud by accident- You saw his whole body freezes mid step. A twitch seemed to have shot through his system as your merchant crew mates all looked back at you with a mixture of pity and fear. You swallow a nervous lump as he did a slow turn in your direction, your face still clouded in shadows by the lack of lights in the audience section. Doing a silent hand movement his crewmates assended on you, yanking you from your restraints roughly and pulling you to the stage with little grace and tossing you at Buggy's feet. Rubbing your swore wrist you looked up at your childhood friend through your mess of hair.

"What the Hell Bugs? Shackles!? When the fuck do you use Mph!-" You were cut off as he grabbed your face hard tp pull you to your feet, his eyes wide and overly dilated like he was seeing a ghost. You actually felt afraid? His eyes seemed different and there was a unknown emotion behind them, you tried to wiggle free but he held you firmly taking his free hand and pushing the hair from your face fully at seeing your face you see it looks like all the air has been sucked from his lungs and he releases you quickly, you stumble back barely able to catch yourself as he stares at you with wide eyes.

"You're alive?..." He said in utter shock. You nod and cough a bit as you rub your sore jaw from his grasp. You open your mouth to speak but he holds a hand to you to silence you. His eyes looking more like what you remembered, that swirl of never ending emotions.

"Cabaji- Take her to be washed, fed and dressed. Leave her in my quarters" He commanded, the green man nodded heavily and grabbed you far gentler now to lead you off stage.

Just as instructed a group of people washed you up in a massive copper bath with nice hot water, dressed you in simple trousers and a tunic and quickly dropped you off with a plate on the end table of the large bedroom.

Seated in a massive bed you look down at the hot plate set before you, your manners thrown out the window as you tucked in. Having been far too long since you had a hot filling meal-

Without thinking you rapidly start eating it, it tasted like heaven enough for tears to well in your eyes as you ate. Before long the plate was gone- and you felt nauseous, yout mistake of eating too quickly and food you hadn't experienced in 20 years. You scrambled up to the nearest trashcan and began to vomit- so hard you didn't hear the door open. Only when a gentle hand touched your back which made you flitch and turn around to see Buggy, his eyes wide at your reaction before your body lurches and you vomited again. Buggy held your hair back this time as you vomited into the poor trashcan.

"Sorry... it's been a while since I got a hot meal" You admitted, spitting the taste of bile away from your lips as you sat back.

"It really is you" Buggy said in disbelief still, Getting down on his knees next to you as he looked over you. How you looked so unhealthy and weak- even after being cleaned he could see that abuse had done its work on you.

"Dear Gods... What happened to you?..." Buggy voice finally cracked, his hand reaching out and cupping your cheek his thumb running over the heavy bags under your eyes and the new scars that had set on your face.

"...I survived" You say softly, Leaning into his warm touch feeling tears begin to fall. In seconds Buggy held you tightly in his arms, your face pressed against his chest as ragged sobs left you, maybe it was finally being free from both jail and the hardships on that awful merchant ship but feeling Buggy's arms around you holding you close just finally released that emotional valve and you cried.. Harder then you had in your entire life into his chest.

You felt his hands smooth over your messy hair and rock you side to side as you sobbed against him. You tried to speak but sobbing nonsense was all that left you and was mumbled through Buggy's shirt.

After almost an hour of crying against Buggy you had worn yourself out, sniffling against him as he gently pulled back to look at your reddened face. His own makeup having dripped away from his red eyes- clearly he had been crying too while holding you.

He wiped your face with his gloved hand and laid kisses on your forehead to comfort you.

"You never have to just survive again... I-Im sorry (Y/N) I couldn't save you" His voice cracked at that, you shook your head.

"I-It would have been impossible. You two would have been killed..." You say with a sniffling tone, trying to control your tone and keep from crying again. Buggy asked what had happened, as you told him the story of your escape, prison time, the pain you had suffered and how you'd escaped to be hired by those merchants. He listened dead silent the whole time his hands rubbing circles in your arms to comfort you. However you saw the rage in his eyes at the pain you'd gone through.

Once done explaining yourself he nodded at this, like he was trying to find the words to explain but couldn't. Instead just giving a bitter chuckle at this, shaking his head in anger. He reached up and took off his hat with a angry sigh and tossed it aside. Your eyes catching the bandana underneath and reaching a hand out to touch the fabric.

"You kept that?.. after all these years?" You whispered confused, the anger on his face leaving as he heard this and left your touch. Reaching up and gently pulling off the old bandana for you to see.

"Of course- you gave it to me... W-When you... left. I was destroyed" He admitted, you stared at him with tears starting to fall from you again.

"I couldn't look at myself in the mirror without seeing the face that had let you down.. so I changed- I smiled for you, wore your favorite red and became Buggy the Clown"

He said with a chuckle and gestured to himself. You bit your lip to keep from crying more, he wiped your tears away with a shaky breath.

"You did that for me? Why?" You whispered, he stared at you silently before having a nervous smile.

"I love you"

His words made your heart skip- like that spark of life from when you were 15 had hit you again. Your eyes met his, he also seemed taken aback by his admittance.

"You love me?" You questioned, seeing him nervously mess with his gloves. He always did have little nervous tics like this whenever he was in a odd position, however peeling off one of his gloves to dig his nail into his palm he nodded. You reached forward and took his hand into your own to keep him from harming his hand further.

"Well I'd hope so after giving you my first kiss on that little boat"

You both giggled at this. You rubbing your thumb on his naked palm, seeing the deep scars that covered his hands- like he had dug his nails into them so many times that his palms was covered in smiley faces.

"Of course, didn't hurt it was my first kiss too" He chuckled but you winked at him.

"Don't lie, I remember the story of you and Shanks running on deck and your guys mouth smashing together. That counted" Buggy shiffered in disgust at the memory and wrinkled his face which made you laugh.

"That doesn't count!" He protest which earned more laughter from you, he smiled widely at this.

"Sooo if both of us are still interested, Would you like to continue what should have been?" You asked, giving him a blushing smile which he returned. A big Goofy grin on his face-

"Well, let's get you healthier first. What about a dinner date?" He suggested, almost giddy and you could see that same boy you once knew under that makeup again.

"Sounds perfect"

TAG LIST:

@oxbunnehxo @starsali @avatar-lover @severesongstarfish @flooftoof @lavalampskyy @blogname-18 @ven1cez

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #buggy the clown x reader #buggy one piece #buggy x reader #op buggy #captain buggy #buggy the clown #bugg

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forthevillains · 29 days

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I thought of this in the shower earlier lol. So, yandere Wesker and a darling who may or may not have stolen his lab coat or jacket because they know that if they act out, he'll be forced to stay with them just a little bit longer. Even if he's mad at them, he's still there by their side for awhile, so it's fine even if they have to be punished. You think our smart, smart boy would be able to pick up on it?

[To be fair I didn’t intend for this to be nsfw, but it ended that way anyway:’)]

I think he would be kind of alright with you taking his stuff, especially when it comes to clothes as he gets very possessive and the fact you want some of him with you only boosts his confidence, on the other hand though - yandere Wesker, being an asshole he is, would surely use the fact that you did it as a good excuse to punish you.

He was getting ready to work, to leave you at home, all alone and terribly bored once again. He was in a good mood however, so as he was about to leave, he even wanted to seek you out just for a goodbye kiss. Before he could do that though, he noticed that one of his coats is missing, his favorite to be exact.

"Y/N?”

You peaked from behind the corner, blinking your eyes innocently as your body remained hidden. "Yes?”

Wesker’s eyes narrowed as he realized that you’re hiding something, scanning your face to get more hints and almost immediately he got the idea of what you’ve done. It was so clear, how you hid most of your body, how you tried to look innocent, eyes wide and a playful smile on your face. For a mere second he wondered if you’ve really stolen a piece of his clothing or if there was more to your flushed cheeks and the distance you purposely kept between the two of you, but he settled with the first option (he knew you too well).

"Don’t you have anything you’d like to tell me?” your boyfriend asked, but you only shook your head and disappeared to the other room, of course wearing his coat. You couldn’t help but giggle, knowing he would go after you, maybe even chase you if you were to run, whether it was curiosity or anger he felt. And when you saw him behind you, you’ve decided that it’s really an excellent idea to run so that you’d waste a little more of his time.

Wesker didn’t say a word, he was pretty amused by what you’ve done. He took his time, since he knew quite well that it would take him barely a second to catch up to you. He waited until you were cornered and even though you looked really cute with his coat on (that was by the way definitely too big for you), he just couldn’t miss an opportunity like this. You wanted him to spend more time with you? You’ve got what you wanted, for a mere few minutes, but still - you’ve got it. He would come up to you, with a smirk on his face, taking you in his arms and telling you how good you look wearing it, getting you flustered, only to pin you against the wall, with your legs around his waist, pulling your pants and panties just below your ass so he could get enough access to your aching core, immediately sliding in the second his cock was free from its confines, indulging you in pleasure, fucking you quick and rough.

It was you who initiated it, so now you’ll have to take what he’s giving you in return. And god did you enjoy every second of it. Each of his thrusts forced a sinful noise out of you, your eyes watering at the pace he set only to remind you that each thing of his has a price.

He wouldn’t let you reach your climax, pulling out as soon as he found his own release. A whine escaped you at that and you hopelessly tried to reach out for him to get back, to hold you again, to fill you to the brim with his warm cock, again and again. But before you could do so, he was gone. He wanted you to be longing for him the whole time he was away only so that he could make up for everything when he comes back. And he would take his time then. But for now - he left you, full of his cum, with his coat still on, panting, legs trembling and cheeks flushed. He might miss it, though the way you looked in it, almost drowning, all warm and cute, he’s decided that one day without it wouldn’t kill him.

#albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #resident evil #resident evil wesker #wesker x reader #wesker x you #oneshot #smut #re smut

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lowkeyrobin · 2 months

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can you pretty please try doing reader who is a certified yapper 🗣‼️ but also has moments where they just get tired of talking and are dead silent for like 20 minutes straight and then go straight back to yapping 😼 sorry if its super specific lmao but i do this all the time

also could i maybe be 🦋 anon??

hello!! welcome to the family 🦋 anon! and yes ofc :) sorry if I misunderstood, kinda autopiloted to mcyt so sorry if you meant this for another fandom LMAO ; struggled to think of new thoughts so sorry for small cast of people 💀🙏

MCYT ; certified yapper

includes ; tommyinnit, tubbo, ranboo, badlinu, quackity, & nihachu

warnings ; language

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

he does the same thing

will rant about anything and everything especially if you're talking about the same thing

but if it's out of the blue like "omg look at this tik tok drama blah blah blah" he just blinks before he's like "oh shit. here we go again"

then you just stop talking after a moment and gets weirdly uneasy with the silence

"can you talk more?"

"about what??"

he just shrugs "I like when you yap away, you're nice background noise"

you dramatically scoff "Okay, asshole"

you're silent for a while and just start revving up the engine again "Holy shit here's another thing, this girl-"

TUBBO

will proudly listen to you yap on about some stupid shit or about lore to a show/movie you're fixated on

he'll ask you questions and stuff

he's used to it dw

you'll go silent for a little while like you're processing new data and he'll just be like "Okay, I think we should do xyz and..."

then you'll like come back to life and start talking again

he secretly sets a timer each time you go quiet until you start ranting again and he'll put it on his stream 💀

"damn, 19 minutes this time"

"Huh? 19 minutes for what?"

RANBOO

nods along and actually listens

dude doesn't care, they're listening to you no matter what

whether it be about serious topics or some silly internet stuff you like, he'll always listen and make sure to note it down that way he can start a conversation with you about something you like or are passionate about

"yknow what I like about the nether?"

"what?" he smiles

"how pretty and diverse it is. yeah you can say the overworld is just as if not more diverse with biomes and stuff, but they could've just left it boring red netherrack everywhere you go and stuff, it adds so much more life-"

they love how passionate about things you can be

if for a very extended period of time, they'll check up on you like "you good?"

you just nod like "I'm tired of talking L"

BADLINU

nods along with you

he doesn't see it as yapping, he sees it as a genuine conversation no matter what you're talking about

adds some stuff in when you like pause to breathe

once you go quiet he can just sit in silence with you forever

this is basically his opportunity to talk to you about like tik tok drama lmao

if you don't know about it at all, all ears open and you're focused

your dynamic 🔛🔝

QUACKITY

you're both yappers let's be honest

constantly talking over each other and play fighting for the most attention out of other people 💀💀

"SHUT THE HELL UP I'M TALKING"

"I WAS TALKING FIRST, LET ME TELL THEM ABOUT MY NEW FAVORITE MOVIE"

then you just get tired of talking and wanna strip mine or something LMFAO

he always checks to make sure he didn't upset you after every time you go silent

it's just by reflex lmao

he does listen to you when you yap about a fixation don't worry

gift inspo goes crazy

NIHACHU

loves when you talk or yap about something you like or some drama you found

she's like your safe person to talk about everything to, she loves having that kind of title for you

"and then xyz"

"Oh my God, really??"

she'll whole ass put everything down just to listen to you talk about dumb shit I swear

she encourages it, like just speak your mind dude

also uses what you talk about as gift inspiration for anything, birthday, valentines day, anytime she wants to get you stuff

half the time you forget what you just said and she recaps you

"Oh, thank you! anyways-"

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #tommyinnit x reader #ranboo x reader #quackity x reader #badlinu x reader #tubbo x reader #nihachu x reader #niki nihachu x reader #freddie badlinu x reader #🦋 anon

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redsaurrce · 2 years

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LESSON I

LESSON II / LESSON III

Synopsis : In which he took every opportunity to fuck the daylights out of you.

Pairing : YandereTeacher!jungkook x bully student fem!reader

Genre : smut, high school au

Word count : 4.0K

Taglist: @darkuni63

Warnings : 18+, Profanity, kissing, nipple play, YANDERE THEMES, use of stick and blackboard marker at intimate parts, chewing gum used for sexual purposes, non-con, mentions of licking sneakers, cumming

You licked the lollipop around your plump lips as you pulled it out with a pop, your left boot rested on the shoulders of the boy who tried to flirt with your best friend last night in the party.

"Listen you rat! If you are found to make a move on Arin once again," you looked down at him with threat filled in your eyes, "I'll make sure your father gets kicked out of his job and never get a chance in another company." The boy's eyes flickered and he dropped down while rubbing his hands asking for apology, "I'm so sorry Y/N, I'm very very sorry Arin this won't happen again."

You smirked. Afterall you were the richest kid in your school, who comes from a powerful chaebol family, your grandfather was next in nomination to run for the president. No one would dare harm a single hair on your body because they knew your background, your impact.

It was deadly.

Although you were infamous as a rich snob or the bully, you didn't particularly go on bullying people for no reason. A coin has both sides, people picked up whichever side they wanted to see yours themselves. Some admired you for saving them from other assholes while the others either hated you because

1- they were those assholes

2- well yeah you did sometimes lose your temper over petty things and bullied them

3- simply out of jealousy

But did you really care? Nope!

You were chewing your gum as you took your seat, crossed your legs and took out the biology book and flipped the page to where the lesson was left last day.

God who cared about those cilia and flagella, ugh. You were pissed.

After a moment you saw a person step inside the class who was definitely not your teacher, this man was much more handsome.

You heard the girls in front and back of your desk squeal among themselves, you scoffed. Were they already sold before this man even opened his mouth?

You shrugged off, none of your business afterall.

"Hello everyone I need your attention, today onwards I will be taking your biology classes instead of Mr. Leviski." He smiled, all were swooned.

"I am Jeon Jungkook, nice to meet you my dear students." And everyone chirped in with enthusiasm, "Nice to meet you too Mr. Jeon."

He started reading the chapter while you listened to him with half lidded eyes only waiting for the period to end already.

You yawned, "You there, what's your name?" He said while you kept looking at those big letters on your book which read 'cytoskeleton' . Arin who was sitting next to you nudged at your elbow and whispered, "Y/N he's asking about you!" You saw her from the corner of your eye then shifted your attention to your new teacher. You raised your forefinger and pointed towards yourself, "me?"

"Yes you, what is your name?" He asked you in all seriousness while you were still unbothered. "Y/N, Han... Y/N." You emphasized slowly on your name for him not to ask you to repeat again. But why, to him the way you said your name sounded so seductive in addition to those uninterested eyes? Was he getting delusional? He sighed as he ran his hands through his hair.

"No student is allowed to chew anything in my class, throw it out, now!" And he firmly pointed his thumb towards the door. You almost groaned, lord it was his first day and he was already beginning to get fucking annoying.

You were walking through the corridor and sighed, what a boring day and Arin walking next to you wasn't really helping anything to cope up with your boredom. "Y/N!" Finally she thankfully opened her mouth, "Don't you think Mr. Jeon is too handsome to be a teacher? " nope, you weren't thankful anymore.

"I don't know. But it's true that I don't really want him as my teacher." You said with pursed lips. "Oh c'mon are you still mad about the morning incident? " She pouted.

"Well obviously, he needs to be reminded of his place soon enough as--" Before you could complete your sentence you spotted your mother and father talking with the principal and Jungkook with broad smiles on their faces- something that they never gave to you. Beside them stood your elder sister, most probably receiving praises given how good of a model student she was, also the topper of her class.

Your parents always treated her as the princess when they outright neglected you, you were not much of an attention seeker but it did hurt, it hurt to see that they were capable of loving but you were not the receiver, even once.

You took Arin's arm and turned her around to leave but WAIT! Why was that Jeon Jungkook talking with your parents so happily? Was he trying to secure something? You contorted your eyebrows at the thought that your parents never heed their attention to any teacher, he being new to this school at that was pretty much unsettling to you.

It was another day in school while you walked in the cafeteria, carrying your plate to your seat.

As you took in your third bite, a large thud was heard and your foot felt something hot.

"Holy fucking shit! My favorite Fendi sneakers!! " You screamed in anguish as you looked at the curry spilled over them.

You glared at the girl sitting on the floor who had tripped and caused this havoc, you stood up in front of her. "Lick them clean bitch." She cried at the venom-filled words you spat but that was only adding to your anger.

Jungkook entered the cafeteria and he witnessed the scene, in anyone's eye it was evident that you were bullying just another student.

His eyes turned dark, he needed to teach you a lesson.

"Y/N!" His voice echoed throughout the silent cafeteria as it was silenced by your scream.

You groaned, which motherfucker had the audacity to interrupt you?! You turned to see that handsome annoying face once again.

"Follow me to my office, now!"

Fuck! You cursed under your breath.

He looked at you with his dark lustful eyes while you stood at a corner near the door, "Open your shirt" He commanded as he flipped through the register kept on his table.

You sighed, "Mr Jeon can you be specific? I didn't get the reference. "

"I never made one, it is what I told you to do- open.. your.. shirt." Your eyes went wide, the fuck?

You blinked and then scoffed, "What will happen to you if this gets out? Have you ever thought of that?" He sighed as he kept the register aside, "Of course! Who do you think the world would believe? A bully or a sweet teacher? It takes a matchstick to start a fire Y/N and that fire will only burn you, not me." He shook his head with a smirk.

You grit your teeth, "I will tell my father! Do you even know who I am?"

He chuckled, "A spoilt brat whose father wouldn't even care even if she died?"

Your expressions changed completely, clueless of how he knew about it and also scared of what advantage he might take of that information.

"You didn't expect me to know that right? Too bad! Now kneel down and open your shirt, don't make me repeat again." He said casually sitting back on top of the desk in his office.

You hesitantly kneeled down, your hands shaking while opening your shirt. A pink bra with white lace, how cute!

He stood up and went to close the door, "Now open that bra." You clenched your fist in anger, what kind of a punishment was this?

He sighed, "if I repeat the sentence once again I'm gonna kick you out of this room without the shirt." Fuck! You'd be embarrassed to death if people saw you like that.

"Alright then let me repeat again, Y/N open-" and before he could finish you hurriedly opened your sports bra with your boobs bouncing off by the speed you opened them.

He grinned. "Keep your hands off them." He took his stick and tapped on your arms which you brought up to cover your breasts.

You gulped as you removed them. What a good girl! And in an instant he opened the camera on his mobile and it went- snap! Your eyes filled up with absolute horror. "Relax, I won't do anything with the photo as long as you obey me." He smirked.

He then traced the outline of your boobs with the end of the stick which then he pressed on the nipple, pressing them inside. Your face was morphed in pain, you were trying your level best to not stand up and run away from him.

He came closer and sat in front of you, the stick pressing deeper.

"Y/N today onwards you must obey my words and if you don't do so then I'll upload the pic on the anonymous bulletin board of the school." He then removed the stick and stood up. "Put on the clothes back on."

Ever since that incident two days ago, you made sure to avoid Jungkook at every cost, even in the classes you tried to remain as inconspicuous as you could.

You were walking down the stairs while chewing another gum as you felt a little stabilized, your breath hitched as you heard your name, "Y/N come to my office." You knew that voice very well, it's engraved in your head like a tattoo since his sentences kept ringing in your head again and again.

Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as you opened the door.

"Everytime you enter this room, you must open your shirt and keep it inside my drawer. That's the protocol you must follow otherwise your photo will be on the anonymous school bulletin the very next second." He said while not looking up from the paper bundle kept beside him on the table.

Your eyes flickered, just why was he doing this to you? You hesitantly opened your shirt and passed by him to keep inside his drawers. "Now stand in front of me." You followed his words.

"Alright, how many chewing gums do you have?" He asked you and you put your hand inside your pocket to count them. "Three, sir." He hummed at your response. "I told you earlier that no student within my eyesight should be caught chewing anything." -- hold on, that's not what he actually said.

"But sir you said--" "sshh no buts!", he continued, "Lets play a game, the rules are that once you will blow the bubble gum and when I hear it burst with loud pop, I'll let you go. Remember one chance per bubble gum." He had his typical half crooked smile.

You fished out one pack of gum.

That should be easy, very easy for you. You nodded and tore the packet of gum, but to your surprise he slid down your sports bra before you could react, your eyes went wide. "S-sir?" He smirked, "Did you think it would be that easy? Now now, go ahead, chew that gum and pop it off if you can." He held your waist to bring you closer and his mouth attacked on your boobs.

The .. hell?

You grabbed his hair as you tried to be stable, you needed your mind to calm down. Meanwhile the man was truly getting more excited at the tight grip on his hair. You thought if that's the condition then you should quickly blow the bubble gum.

You started chewing-- fuck! He started softly chewing on your nipples as well, it took you a moment to realize that he was copying your chewing movements, he chewed on your cherries the same way you chewed on the bubble gum.

Then you quickly extended your tongue to allow the gum to be blown up, he copied the same action with his tongue lapping aroud your nipples in circles. When you tried to blow air in the gum, he sucked very hard on your hardened bud. Shit! You clenched your teeth and thus you failed to properly blow it!

One chance was gone, two remaining. "It's ok I can certainly pull it off this time" You mentally noted.

You went for second chance and saw him shift to your other breast, repeating the same actions- chewing your nipple while opening his shirt and then he opened his pants.

Fuck you needed to be quick! When you were once again sticking out your tongue to blow it up, his hands slid inside your skirt.

Fuck fuck fuck you needed to rush, you quickly blowed air and as soon as you did it, he harshly pinched your clit making you gasp and the bubble gum fell out of your mouth.

Damn it! Second chance was gone too!

He kept smirking as he removed his saliva dripping mouth from your breast, "Last chance or else you will be sucking on my dick till night, understand?" You whimpered, "y-yes sir."

"Good girl!" He smiled as he kissed your bare stomach which churned inside you. "Now onto the last gum." He said and you took it out.

You opened the packet and saw him kneel down, you were confused but his next action threw you in swirls of disgust. He lifted your short skirt and pulled down your shorts and then pulled down your pretty pink panties already soaked from the sensations he made you feel a few seconds ago.

You gulped and then took the last bubble gum inside your mouth, as expected, his mouth was now on your vagina, chewing your pubis like the way he was chewing your boobies moments before.

Your mind went hazy, you were rapidly cumming inside his mouth and he enjoyed every bit of it. For a moment you had even forgotten how to chew because the feeling was overwhelming. You regained your movement and once again stuck out your tongue. Jungkook squeezed your ass as he pushed his own tongue inside your opening. You whimpered but this time you were determined, no matter what, you will blow it with all your might.

And you did! You squeezed your eyes when blew air, the pressure also made twice your cum come out which filled up Jungkook's mouth deliciously. He moaned at the flavour when he heard POP! Ugh he went easy on you!

You pant for air, mind screaming in victory. He was disappointed at himself for not going a bit more hard on you and he hated it.

He stood up, "Well I think from now on whenever you'll chew bubble gum, you will be reminded of today!" He smirked, "And if I catch you again chewing them, I'll make sure you won't be able to get out of this room."

You went to your class all drained out, you sat on your seat and sighed. "You okay Y/N?" Arin asked you with worried eyes as you had missed a period already. "I'm not." You said before putting your head down as the bell rang.

You were peacefully resting when you heard students greet the teacher who just stepped in.

"Good afternoon students!" Your eyes shot open while recognizing the voice, it was him. Even though his voice was cheerful, you felt nothing but nauseous.

No! You sat up straight immediately because anytime you gave him room for to find flaws in you, he made sure to use it like a wild animal.

He smirked when he spotted you quickly sitting up like a good student, a good girl! He smiled as he looked down at the book.

"My goodness his smile looks so gorgeous, I wish he could step on me while smiling like that." A girl whispered who was sitting behind you and you wanted nothing more than to puke on her.

After finishing the portion of male and female genitals he announced, "Alright class I'll take a test on this portion tomorrow so be prepared alright?" He smiled to the students before walking out of the class. Ofcourse after seeing you, you who was deep in thoughts. He smiled to himself.

No matter how much you tried to focus, the things that happened in Jungkook's office kept flashing in front of your eyes, making you lose focus from your chapter again and again. You didn't even know whom to ask help from- hold on, your sister! She can explain.

You went and stood in front of her door to knock but instead you heard your parent's muffled voices. "So you're saying you want to marry his brother instead?" That was your mother's voice.

You scrunched up your nose, marry? You pressed your ear on the door tightly, "He already is working love, he will also become the future CEO! His brother is still in your school, not to mention in your class- don't be absurd Han Yoo-in." And that was your father's voice.

Well enough of eavesdropping, you walked quietly back to your room. You pondered over what you just heard, was she getting married to a potential CEO against her will?

Guess not all princesses get their lovers and also guess you can't really receive any help from your sister today. Sigh! Gotta do it yourself!

Next day you gave the test, honestly you did try your best reading everything clearly and answering them on the paper, yet you knew that you might have made a lot of mistakes.

Jungkook saw that on your paper - a lot of mistakes and he chuckled to himself. But he knew how to teach his little girl well.

A girl tapped on the side of your desk, "Y/N, Mr. Jeon wanted to see you in his office after school."

Fucking shit!

Your face immediately grew pale, was he going to punish you for the test now?

After the bell rang indicating that the school was finally over, everyone was walking out of the door gleefully except you, who needed to be present elsewhere. Honestly you saw this opportunity to run, but that would only come to bite back in your ass.

You slowly creaked his door open while your hands were practically shaking while pushing it. He glanced at you and then he went through the papers, he pulled out an answersheet, your answersheet and he clicked his tongue.

You kept your bag down and followed his protocol, opening the shirt to keep inside his drawer near which he was sitting on his chair. "Y/N open the shoes, come here and sit on the table in front of me." You took small steps and sat on the table facing him.

He kept your feet covered in socks on his thighs and spread your legs apart, you weren't even surprised anymore. "Hmm now the paper you've given in carries a lot of mistakes, we need to fix them, right darling?" Did you see this coming? Yes. Did you see the new nickname coming? No.

Your eyes flickered to your answer sheet which was covered in red all over, but you didn't do that bad if you recalled.

He opened your skirt and then slid down your panties, at this pointed you allowed him whatever the hell he was doing.

But to your surprise, he opened his drawer and brought out a black whiteboard marker and opened the lid with his teeth. He leaned in closer to your vagina and then took the marker to mark on your body part, "this is labia majora. "

You gasped, what in the actual fuck? Then he spread open your opening with his other hand, "this is labia minora. " He said as he looked up at your bewildered expression.

Then he kept the marker aside and tickled your another part with his middle finger, making your thighs trying to get close. "That's hymen."

Then he leaned in and ran his tongue all across another part, you clenched the edges of the table, "That's clitoris."

He then stood up and opened his shirt, unbuckled his pants and opened his underwear as well. "Come sit here Y/N", he gestured at the spot in front of him where he was standing, you gulped as you stood up with your wavy legs and went to sit down where he told you to, "Now look up!"

Fuck! He adjusted closer and now you were sitting right beneath his dick, which was already erected.

He began, "This is penis, now I will tell you the parts then when I ask you the questions, make sure you answer right because if you get the question wrong even once, you know the consequences better." His gaze darkened.

He took the marker and opened its cap once again, "this is the glans penis, this goes urethra, now the parts inside are epididymis which is...." He went on and on, rather quickly for your hazy brain to catch up.

"Alright we are good, now one right answer earns one kiss on my penis but the moment you can't give the right answer, you will face your punishment." His lustful gaze hovered over you as you were sitting there like a beautiful fairy you were, the floor already getting wet with your pre-cum, oh he couldn't wait for you to give a wrong answer.

To his surprise, rather to your own surprise as well, you were actually giving correct answers, not like he would complain when he saw you give him kisses on his dick, he seriously loved it infact, your soft plump lips, no he needed to kiss them himself.. right.. Now!

So on purpose he asked you a difficult question, your eyes went wide, "sir you never explained that?" His lips threatening to form a smirk, "no sweetheart, if you paid enough attention in your class you would have certainly gotten the answer correct. Now... prepare for your punishment."

You felt your brain switch off itself, you were terrified at what was coming, "Alright stand up!" As soon as you stood up, he pressed you to the nearest wall as he harshly kissed your lips while both of his hands working to open your bra.

When they fell down he used the opportunity to grab your boobs and thrust his penis inside your vagina. He kept playing with your nipples like turning a switch on and off.

You felt hot in your stomach and your spine getting those electric shocks running down. He detached his lips after biting at one corner of your lower lip then he moved on to the neck. "Soon we will be doing this on our bed baby" He said and once again got back to biting your neck.

Our bed? "O-our bed sir?" You were losing it, literally. "Yes baby, we will marry each other. Also call me Jungkook from now on my love, we will be husband and wife soon!"

The fawk he was saying?

Your nails dig on his hair as he pulled you up against the wall, he sucked on your pussy, "Yeah I will become the CEO of Jeon Pharmaceuticals two months later and your father had agreed to marry his daughter to me." He smiled wide, "No one can separate us Y/N baby."

"W-wait! CEO? Then w-why are you tea-teaching?" You managed to ask him between your moans and whimpers.

He chuckled, "I came here to experience a tough and challenging environment, what place would be better than a high school for that, oh and also to see my future wife as well." What the hell? Why did you never knew about your marriage- wait a damn minute, was he the one your father was talking about marrying to your sister?

Bad enough, because Jungkook thought that daughter would be you.

And you both thought that you were alone in the school so he didn't even bother to close the door. You were wrong, someone did witness both of your activity the entire time- Jungkook's stepbrother Taehyung.

Hmm.. thinking to make a part 2 perhaps? Do give me motivation for that if u want, which is by giving *cough* feedback *cough* (pls) 🥺💖

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cycat-carisi · 5 months

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Lonesome Superhero

Pairing: Gator Tillman x f!reader (not romantic)

Summary: Gator keeps hitting on you and you finally give him a piece of your mind. He's not the sweet boy you once knew anymore - or if he is, it's far too difficult to see.

Tags: No spoilers! Angst. Post episode 1 and 2.

Warnings: language, misogynistic themes from the show

Length: ~1.3k

A/N: This just popped into my head and I needed to get it out. Gator is despicable and unless he has some major character growth, I can't bring myself to romanticize him. I do think his character is super intriguing though. I hope we get to dive deeper into what makes him tick throughout the season. (:

(Plus, I have a theory that Gator may have unintentionally been a witness to his mother's murder as a boy...)

Fic below the cut or on AO3 here

It's in the way the frosted glass door harshly swings open that immediately lets you know who is behind it. There could only be one person who felt entitled enough to barge into a retirement home like he owned the place.

You swallow thickly. Not again.

Turning around from your medicine cart, you find him standing there in his camouflage cargo pants and a black t-shirt that is two sizes too tight. His hands perch on his hips as his narrowed eyes and cocky smirk aim in your direction.

"Gator, please. Not today," you speak coldly.

His smirk only grows. "Oh, c'mon, babycakes, you don’t know what you're missin'!"

"Gator!" you scold, trying to hush your voice in front of your patients. "Come with me, please." Anger bubbles up inside of you as Gator's face contorts into a triumphant grin. He saunters forward as you lead him toward the back entrance of the small facility.

In the shadow of the building, the fall air nips at your bare arms. The chill, however, is easily quelled by your boiling blood.

"How dare you come to my place of work!" You waste no time laying into the Tillman son.

Your ferocity catches Gator off-guard, causing panic to dart across his features. He takes a half-step back, pulling his head and neck along with it.

Oh, but you’re far from done with him.

"For weeks now, you've been popping up wherever I go, asking me to go out with you in the most degrading ways possible! Every. Single. Time. I have turned you down, yet you clearly cannot take ‘no’ for an answer! And now you have the audacity to show up at where I work and do the same? No! It doesn’t work like that, Gator. I worked hard for my career. I went to college, got my license, and came back here to help my community. I am respected in this building, and I will not tolerate you waltzing in here like God's gift to women and disrespecting me in front of my patients!"

Out of breath and seething, you continue to stare Gator down. He looks downright gobsmacked – a mixture of a wounded pup about to run and a cornered hound ready to bite.

The silence is deafening. You wait for Gator to snap back like he always does – some moronic comeback that's as pathetic as his barbed wire LOL tattoo.

And predictably, he does just that. "What the hell?!!" he cries out, stepping towards you and invading your space. The pungent odor from his last puff of vape wafts off his breath. "I'm the law in this town! I'm a winner! All you ever do is humiliate me! You're fucking awful!"

"I'm awful?!" you scoff, eyebrows shooting skyward. You're about to rip him a new one when you simply stop and shake your head in pity. "What happened to you, Gator?"

Once again, the Tillman son is rendered speechless. His dark brow pinches together in confusion. "Wha-?"

You seize your opportunity to dive a little deeper. "I mean, what happened to the Gator from middle school? The one who used to be my friend? The boy who was sweet and kind and would spend lunch hours reading comic books with me. It's like you suddenly woke up one day and decided to become an asshole, always acting out in class and purposely bullying other kids. Doing reckless shit because your dad could get you out of trouble. And now? I think you've gotten worse! Hell, Mrs. Lakeland told me that you all but pushed Gladys Baker out of the way at the corner store the other day. What the heck is wrong with you? Who do you think you are?"

"I - I -" he stammers, head spinning. Then Gator swallows, puffing up his chest. "I take what's mine! I take what I'm owed. I made it through police training. People in this town owe me their respect, so I take it as I see fit."

"Newsflash! That's not how you get respect, sunshine," you retort. "Respect is earned, and from where I'm standing, all I see is a pathetic man-child whose daddy got him where he is today. 'My father is the sheriff' are the magic words that force people to step out of your way. That's not respect; that's notoriety from being a grade-A asshole!"

Gator's face twists into a snarl while his fists clench and unclench at his sides. You've clearly hit a nerve.

Even though you’d love nothing more than to lay into him some more, you remind yourself that it’s notworth the fight. Instead, your chest constricts with disappointment. "I don’t get it, Gator,” you speak softly. “Why do you let your father run your life? He says to jump and you ask how high. When are you gonna wake up and realize that he's just using you?"

If it wasn’t clear that you’d struck a nerve before, it certainly is now. Gator’s combat boot strikes the gravel, sending up a cloud of dust and dirt, and his cheeks glaze over with a deep red flush. "I don’t – He doesn’t –" Lost for words, Gator simply clamps his jaw shut. He kicks at the ground again and throws his hands to his hair, letting out a frustrated yell.

You hop back in surprise; a fearful gasp escapes you at his sudden outburst.

Gator's head whips back up, and those dark eyes meet yours.

Middle school was a long time ago, yet Gator remembers everything. He remembers how nice you were to him; how one day you saw this quiet boy sitting alone at lunch with a comic book and decided to come over and ask what he was reading. He used to dream of being as invincible as the superheroes in his books – Gator's way of shielding himself from everything that he'd seen. But then you came along and somehow made him feel a little less alone. He adored you and your friendship, eventually developing a little crush. That was, of course, before Gator was taught that girls weren't supposed to like comics, that men lead while women follow, and that his father's word was absolute. If he pleased his father, any situation could go Gator's way. The power sought after by characters in his comic books was right at Gator's fingertips; all he had to do was prove to the senior Tillman that he was worthy. Nothing else mattered.

And now? Gator almost had it. He was so close to having his father's approval. He was certain of it! Why couldn't you see that? Why couldn't you see how awesome he had become? He had buried his crush on you away while you were at college, but now that you were back, there was no reason to hide that he wanted you. And there should be no reason why you wouldn't want him either!

Except…your words today hurt. They made Gator feel puny and pathetic. How could you say that he was just his father's pawn?! He was his own man! A tough and strong and important man in this town...right?

You watch as despair briefly flashes across Gator's face before quickly being replaced by aggravation. He grunts again prior to spinning on his heels and stalking off.

No! Gator is his own man, and you were just the type of woman his father had warned him about! His crush is stupid, and so are you...

As Gator storms off, his ears catch your quiet words laced with pity. "Silly me for thinking that the sweet guy who read comics with me would still be in there.”

For the first time since he was a boy, tears stab at Gator's eyes. He scrunches his eyes closed and shakes his head, instead focusing on the sound of gravel crunching under his boots as he slinks away.

Thanks for reading! Feedback is loved ❤

#gator tillman #fargo #fargo season 5 #gator tillman x reader #my fanfic #fargo fx #joe keery #lonesome superhero series

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bennettmaximoff · 6 months

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Damon was incredibly protective and loving of Bonnie and ended up being her soulmate in the books, and the tvd writers thought “Hm, let’s make him a complete asshole to her throughout the entire show and hurt her at every given opportunity.” They took one look at how Stefan and Bonnie’s friendship was progressing throughout S1-S2 and decided to completely retcon it and started having him disregard her the same way everyone else did. You see, none of the main male characters were allowed to have actual meaningful connections with her because god forbid Bonnie be considered a potential love interest for them and not their self inserts. Damon can’t even tell Bonnie he loves her without them making sure to include “The same way Elena loved you.”

It’s the same reason why they didn’t have Bonnie attend the Mikaelson ball even though her being there made more sense than Matt or Caroline attending since the literal hostess was going to be siphoning her bloodline’s magic. She couldn’t be seen dressed up in a pretty gown like the other girls and dance with any of the male characters because again, god forbid Bonnie be held in the same regard as the other girls and ever thought of as a potential love interest for anyone besides throw away characters. It’s the same with Bonnie not interacting with any of the Mikaelson’s outside of her protecting the MFG from them. There are numerous connections between the Mikaelson’s and the Bennetts. Ayana Bennett was Esther’s mentor and seemed to be incredibly close to all her children. Abby desiccated Mikael, Esther wanted to use the Bennett Bloodline. Yet, not once are these connections explored. These could have potentially been some of the best storylines in the show, but that would have required the writers to not be prejudice and have biases towards certain characters.

But all this begs the question…if you’re going to make a character black or a poc so you can meet the diversity requirements, yet still neglect their character and use them as nothing but a shield to your white characters, then what is the point? Because I have no doubt that if they kept Bonnie’s race the same, she would have gotten the same opportunities as the other girls and wouldn’t be seen as just a mule. She would have still been poorly written, not debating that, but she would have been treated entirely differently by the writers and the fans.

#bonnie bennett #the vampire diaries #anti the vampire diaries #anti tvd #anti julie plec #anti caroline dries #The Mikaelsons and Bennetts were connected through various of ways #Also you would think they’d constantly interacted with the descendant of the person that cared for them as children #Instead we get a lackluster ship that sprung out of nowhere bc the writers catered to fan service too much instead of focusing on actual #chemistry and good writing #rant of the day

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nuka-goblin · 2 months

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reference sheets for some of my Fallout ocs! may add more of them later, but for now these guys are my main faves :)

Bios under the cut

Baron: A Pre-War pilot in the US Air Force. He met @sawyingthroughthewasteland 's Sole, Sawyer, while at a Navy officer school. After being shot down over Alaska he signed up for an experimental 'super soldier' program and frozen. The freeze was only meant to last one month, but that was before the bombs fell.

200 years later, the Enclave finds him in one of their labs, unfreezes him, and takes him to Raven Rock to perform experiments on him. Then, when Hannah happened to Raven Rock, he fled to the Brotherhood of Steel. 10 years after that, the BoS sends an envoy to the Commonwealth to find out what happened to the Prydwen - turns out, Sawyer happened. Reunited once again, Baron leaves the BoS and marries Sawyer. These days, he pilots for the Minutemen.

Dee: Born to a nuclear physicist and a Nobel prize winning biochemist, three years after being sealed in Vault 76 along with some of the most brilliant minds in America. Unfortunately, as Dee grew it turned out she wasn't brilliant - at least, not compared to her peers, the genius children and prodigies in her Vault classes. Her parents had high hopes for her, even naming her after the Hindu concept of 'dharma,' but she rebelled against expectation at every opportunity. She despised her know-it-all peers, her overbearing family, and the shit attitudes of every privileged asshole in the Vault. The Wasteland and everyone in it turned out to be much more fun.

Hannah: Ever since she was a baby, Hannah was the sweetest person you'd have ever met. (We don't talk about the toddler years.) Her father raised her Christian like her mother, but her innate sense of right and wrong always overpowered her respect for rules, God, or the Overseer - and that got her into trouble. When the Overseer made a poor choice, hurt anyone, or even said anything unkind, Hannah made sure to let him know. Many people saw her as a troublemaker for that reason - especially Butch, who hated that she always tattled on him. But she was the apple of her father's eye, and she was just as intelligent and gifted in both science and medicine as him. This served her well in the Wasteland. She's a pacifist, a paragon of virtue, and yet the Wasteland has done its damnedest to break her. Someday, it'll succeed, but her friends will do their best to delay it.

Pascha: From birth, Pascha was told she was the Chosen One. Her grandmother passed when she was young, but she knew she had big shoes to fill. Luckily, that suited Pascha (or Paz, to her pals) just fine. She always liked the power and respect. That's not to say she didn't do plenty to earn it - she was never one to sit still. She was constantly improving herself, waiting for the day she got to prove that she really was the Chosen One. Once that day came, she was eager to be a hero; but it turned out that while being a legend came naturally, acting like a hero just wasn't her style.

Peggy: Raised in a big family on a brahmin farm near Redding, but a woman with more pre-War sensibilities, Peggy left home shortly after her beloved father was conscripted into the NCRA and sent to the Mojave front. She enlisted to follow him; although she had no combat skills whatsoever, it was discovered that she had a rare and unique skillset that made her an excellent... secretary! She maneuvered to get assigned as Colonel Hsu's personal aide, hoping to leverage her position to get her father sent back home, but her father isn't the only man she ends up caring for.

Snake Eyes: Six isn't sure who she used to be before, but she doesn't particularly care. Fueled by vengeance and greed, Six kills, pays off and betrays whoever she needs to in the service of Mr. House, all in the interest of enjoying the luxury, power and respect that comes with the job. She isn't always proud of what she's done, especially to her friends, but the caps, chems and sex that she's paid in helps keep her numb to herself while the Mojave languishes around her. She goes by Six, but most people call her Snake Eyes, owing to perhaps her one scarred eye, her capacity for betrayal, or maybe her supernatural luck. That said, only the very stupid or the very brave will call her that to her face.

#my art #fallout ocs #fallout #fallout oc #oc art #oc: baron #oc: dee #oc: hannah #oc: pascha #oc: peggy #oc: snake eyes #courier six #chosen one #lone wanderer #vault dweller #f76 #f4 #f3 #fnv #f2

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saetoru · 1 year

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GOOD MORNING! — SHIDOU RYUSEI.

「 SYNOPSIS 」 ⋮ shidou ryusei x reader — 2.0k words — you feel up shidou, he makes good use of the situation

— contents ⋮ nsfw + 18+ content, fem! reader, use of pet names (babe, baby, princess), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, might be ooc leave me alone this is my first time writing bllk :,)

— notes ⋮ i-idk bro :,) i got horny for him on the plane and wrote this sitting next to my mother bye 😭

shidou’s well built. it’s not exactly a surprise considering he’s an athlete, but it’s not an unwelcomed perk. you can tell there’s great pride in the way his body is practically sculpted by the gods—if that devilish grin when you stare tells you anything.

he’s asleep, a rare moment where he’s not up before the sun itself to jog and leave you in bed alone. you can’t help but take this opportunity to really appreciate his physique—to stare shamelessly while he’s not there to revel in the ego boost. his shirts ridden up slightly, and you can’t help but roll your eyes that even in his sleep he doesn’t miss a chance to show off—even if not by choice for once.

you watch as the indents of his abs, every curve and every ridge rises and falls with his slow breaths. your eyes move to his face, a rare expression of calm and peace sprawled over the sharp features as he sleeps beside you. you smile, brushing a few loose strands of hair from his face, expression softening when he leans into your touch subconsciously with a low grunt under his breath.

shidou is anything but soft—he’s rough and harsh, mean and a little crazed in almost everything he does. his body’s no different, with sharp cheekbones and eyes, hardened muscle and a broad everything. but you can’t help but think how soft he looks with his cheek pressed against the pillow and his mouth parted with slow breaths.

your eyes follow down his body again, once more settling on the patch of skin that showcases his hard work so perfectly, the glimpse of his abs catching your attention. you can’t help but admire him, can’t help but reach out and lay a palm flat over the exposed section, gliding your hand up and down slowly, feeling the sturdy muscle ripple under your touch. it’s like that for a bit—just slow circles against his skin as you stare at him in awe, memorizing every slant of his body and mapping along the slopes of his torso.

it’s not until there’s a low hum that you turn your attention back to his face, watching as a loose smirk curls on his lips even as his eyes stay shut.

“having fun, huh babe?” he grins, eyes finally cracking open, staring down at you amused as you huff.

“don’t let it get to that big head of yours,” you grumble, making him snort.

“too late,” he snickers. shidou’s anything but soft—but sometimes you think he has his moments. like now, as his arm reaches to curl around you, pulling you snug against his chest as his chin rests over your head. “obsessed, huh? feelin’ me up as i sleep.”

“i hate you—“

“what is this, the millionth time? ‘m always catching you staring at my abs,” he continues teasing, making you pout with a soft glare.

“stop it—“

“if you like ‘em so much you should just ride ‘em or somethin’,” he cackles, making you let out a strangled sound from the back of your throat, mortified as you hide your face in his neck. he’s so vulgar—so shameless that it makes your face heat up as you feel his chest rumble with the amused chuckles he lets out.

“ryu,” you whine, “you’re such an asshole, y’know.”

now, you have to be honest with yourself. although the practicality of admitting it out loud is not even near possible—unless you wish to inflate that already too large ego of his—you can’t exactly say you’re opposed to the idea. but you’d never tell him that—your dignity outweighs your desires.

“not like you don’t want to,” he grins knowingly, “you don’t seem like you’d hate the idea.” and you don’t. but your lips stay shut—yet somehow, that’s enough for him anyway. “oh,” he drawls, “you don’t hate it do you?”

“ryusei, i’m gonna shove you off this bed—“ you don’t even get a chance to finish your halfhearted threat before his strong arms are maneuvering your body to twist on top of his. your breath hitches as you come face to face with the devil himself, the air leaving your lungs when he tempts you with sinful desires through his wicked grin.

“c’mon, baby,” he whispers, voice husky and just a little deeper from the light traces of sleep still lingering, “y’know you want to. gimme somethin’ good to wake up to.”

“aren’t i enough to wake up to,” you huff.

“oh, of course,” he plants a wet kiss to your cheek, nibbling softly on the flesh, “but this would be even better.”

he’s half hard in his boxers—you can feel his length poke against you as your body lays over his. you shift to brush over the bulge gently, making him groan lowly.

“you’re full of yourself, you know that?”

“you would be too if you were me,” he says cheekily, “look what i bagged.” and because he’s every bit as shameless as you know him to be, his hands squeeze your ass, making you glare at him for what feels like the millionth time this morning.

“i think you need to be humbled.”

“i think,” his hand trails between your bodies, finding your clothed cunt through the fabric of your pants and rubbing slowly along your clit in circles, “that you should cum on me.”

you gasp as his hand makes its way under your waistband, feeling the wetness pooling along your folds and making him smirk even more smugly—if that’s even possible—before he continues to tease your clit with his thumb.

“r-ryu,” you breathe, bucking your hips to grind against his hand more, chasing the friction as his fingers ghost along your wet folds. all too quickly, his hand pulls away, making you whine in defeat as he slowly inches your pants down your thighs.

“always so stubborn,” he coos, “y’know you’ll end up givin�� me what i want. always do.”

next thing you know—because you’re every bit as pliant as he is shamelese, you’re seated over his abs, rolling your hips to grind your clit along the ridges and indents of his defined muscle. he watches you, watches the way your eyes flutter shut and your mouth parts with soft moans, watches carefully as your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth when your clit rolls against his skin and sends waves of pleasure through your spine. you look utterly wrecked—and he hasn’t even laid a finger on you yet.

your slick pools along his tanned skin, your pace getting sloppier and sloppier as you near your high. but it’s not quite enough—nothing ever is unless he’s buried deep in your cunt, slamming into you ruthlessly as you cling to him.

“aw,” he grins slyly, “need more? my needy baby,” he reaches up to squeeze your cheeks together. you think distantly that this was all on purpose—just an elaborate scheme to get you helplessly desperate for him like he always manages to make you.

“more,” you cave and plead, making his eyes darken as you can practically imagine his cock twitching in the tight confinements of his boxers. “ryu please—“

“how can i say no to that?” he growls, flipping you under him as quickly as he’d pulled you on top. he’s quick to rid himself of his clothes, pumping his thick girth and smearing the pre cum leaking from the flushed tip. he groans, jaw clenching as he lines himself along your entrance and your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him into a sloppy kiss, moaning into his mouth when he inches past your glistening folds and into your tight cunt.

“more. need more, baby,” you plead, making him grunt as he sucks along the column of your throat.

“so fuckin’ impatient,” he chuckles, gritting his teeth as he tries to keep from slamming into you. shidou’s anything but soft—yet he still treats you with a hint of fragility, like you’ll fall apart if he’s not careful. you know he’ll never properly fuck you until he’s sure you’re well adjusted to his size—no matter how much you beg and plead.

“and you’re so fucking slow,” you huff petulantly. he clicks his teeth unhappily, shooting you a light glare.

“watch it, princess,” he growls, sinking just a little deeper into you as you whimper, nails clawing into his shoulders, “you don’t want me to do something about that attitude, do you?”

you let him kiss the pout off your lips as he slowly stretches you out, splitting you open on his cock as your walls hug around his throbbing length. it’s not long before he’s bottomed out, filling you up completely and curving into your perfectly as he nudges against that sweet spot with little effort.

“‘s not enough,” you sniffle, staring up at him with those doe eyes of yours that make him just a little extra crazed.

“alright,” he grunts, “gonna give you what you want then.”

his hips roll into you slowly at first, and then he quickly builds a fast rhythm—almost animalistic just like everything else he does. he’s rough and ruthless as he slams his fat tip against your spot, and yet his arms cradle you against him so carefully, encasing you in the warmth of his body. you can feel his hot breath against your neck as he moans, panting into the crook of your neck as you squeeze around his cock.

“that’s it—shit, never gonna get over this pussy,” he praises, hands gripping your hips tightly as he bucks his hips into you.

“feels good—‘s so good, fuck,” you gasp, legs hooking around his waist as you clutch onto him tightly. you can hear the sound of skin slapping echoing through the room, the slick sound of his cock bullying into your pussy in harmony with your soft whines.

“that’s it, baby,” he grins, “keep making those pretty sounds for me, yeah? fuck—you’re so tight,” he groans into your skin, biting into your neck and kissing along your collarbone.

“‘m close,” you whine, gasping when his thumb rubs harsh circles along your clit as his hips rut into you sloppily. he’s close too—you can tell from the way his moans are shakier, breathier, slightly higher in pitch as his cock drills into you.

“me too, princess,” he grunts, “fuck, ‘m gonna cum. gonna fill you up nice ‘n full. want that?”

you sob as the blunt head of his swollen cock hits your sweet spot, nodding and babbling chains of yes please and i’m close while he moans lowly with a low drawl of your name.

“oh—ryu,” you mewl as you come undone, walls fluttering around him as you milk him through your orgasm. he’s not far behind, your peak pulling him into his own, a low, drawn out moan falling from his lips as he stills and shudders over your body.

your lips find his, kissing him through his high as he empties his load into your cunt, hot ropes of cum filling you up with every twitch of his cock. he’s desperate as he ruts into you, moaning into your mouth and letting you swallow up every sound he makes.

“fuck, fuck ‘s good, baby,” he pants, “feels so fuckin’ good. god i love you.”

shidou is anything but soft—but sometimes he can’t help himself when it comes to you. sometimes he can’t help but soften up those rough edges for you as you offer up every bit of yourself to him.

he slumps over your body as he finishes, catching his breath as your hands roam along his back and feel over the taut muscles there too.

“i love you too,” you hum, “you and that big ass head of yours.”

“what can i say?” he chuckles breathy and low, making your core ache from the sound alone, “can’t help it when you can’t keep your hands off of me.”

you roll your eyes, but it doesn’t stop your hands from exploring his body—and it still has you in awe no matter how many times you feel it.

“i like you better when you’re asleep.”

“yeah cause then you can stare,” he snickers, biting your shoulder as you smack his arm with a huff.

#teepods.writings #thirstee!#thirsts.#shidou x reader #shidou smut #shidou x you #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou ryusei x you #shidou ryusei smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock smut #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk smut

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tornrose24 · 3 months

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I’ve been rewatching The Ghost and Molly McGee and have concluded watching season 1. These are my thoughts and observations:

-I love how Scratch slowly warms up to Molly across the season and it is easier to catch when you watch the episodes in order. From going to a complete jerk, to valuing her friendship, to caring about how she views him, to not wanting to lose her.

-I also love how this show’s art style is like a storybook come to life in every shot.

-It makes even more sense as to why Scratch haunts Adia’s old home. Todd’s soul gravitated to the one place in Brighton that held happy memories for him, where life had yet to turn him into an anxious, fearful adult. It was a safe space for him, and he was mad when a family managed to move in and invade it. Especially Molly specifically moving into his personal room/the safest spot in the house for him.

-Molly and Scratch are BOTH horrible liars. It’s funny how similar they are in that detail, and it’s even funnier if they call each other out on it.

-Scratch is an absolute asshole to a lot of people and enjoys seeing them suffer during this season, but I think that partly stems from a ‘I was/am miserable so I like seeing others suffer.’

-I’d say Molly’s worst episode is the Snow Day episode (not listening to what everyone else wants to do) and Scratch’s worst episode is the Internship episode (taking advantage of an intern to do basic, unhelpful tasks and being a bigger asshole than usual).

-Molly nearly dies 4 times (the machine during ‘Friend off,’ was willing to catch hypothermia in order to have fun in the snow, was almost hit by the truck, and was nearly sliced in half by Jinx).

-Scratch, Mr. ‘So afraid of dying that I never lived a day’…. Gets trampled by animals, eats poison berries, gets hit by a tour bus, gets blended by the machine from ‘Friend off,’ and is sliced in half by Jinx among all the possible things that WOULD have killed him in this season if he hadn’t been a ghost at the time.

-In ‘Very Hungry Ghost’ Scratch doesn’t get to eat any of the food intended for the ghosts. Because he wasn’t fully a ghost, that feast was not meant to be eaten by him.

-I admit I have yet to catch Scratch’s ‘nervous habit of scratching his arm’ during these episodes.

-There’s a recurring theme of the adult characters regaining their passion for something they once loved in a few episodes.

-However I also appreciate showing very realistic struggles, like financial concerns and how you can’t magically restore your community and town to its glory days without some effort put into it.

-Libby’s mom can be seen as an early cameo during ‘The (Un)natural.’ Of course, she would be there for her daughter ^_^

-I’m not a huge fan of the Christmas episode (never rewatched it until now) but GOD do I love the pink sky they use against the Christmas decorations and snow.

-In Pete’s news article in ‘Twin Trouble’, it mentions that other city planners mysteriously disappeared. However, I don’t think the show EVER addressed that, because such a story fascinated me and made me wonder if there was more to Brighton than meets the eye.

-There was a wasted opportunity in not discussing who or WHAT The Chairman was. Was this mystery meant for season 3?

-Scratch mentioning that he is dead throughout the show hits differently now that we know its quite the opposite. So does seeing him having to do mandatory things for the ghost world that he technically shouldn’t NEED to be doing at that moment.

-So does his interactions with Geoff. Oh boy.

-Was Scratch specifically assigned to scare Brighton? What about the other ghosts from there, like the Tugbottom siblings? Howlin Harriet? Sonia? Why don’t we see them doing their job as much as Scratch has to?

-The sheer irony of Scratch believing that he didn’t have any fears in ‘Scaring is Caring’ only for fear to be the reason WHY he was a ghost to begin with. Once again, there’s a hell of a difference between ‘Scratch as a human being afraid of everything’ and ‘Scratch as a ghost being afraid of losing Molly and would do anything to save her.’

-No seriously, it gets to a point where Scratch risks his existence to save Molly in this season and in the next one-if he had been human, he would have been willing to die for her.

-‘All Night Plight’ is an episode I hadn’t rewatched until recently. And it hits a LOT differently this time around. Molly wanted to form a forever memory with Libby and Scratch by seeing that comet and she managed to win over Scratch who went above and beyond to ensure that was possible. While that memory is now somewhere hidden in Scratch’s mind as a living person, this episode likely was one of the events needed to push him into becoming someone who would take chances and embrace life upon coming back to life.

-Considering the number of times Molly almost dies, it would have been one thing if Scratch didn’t take it too well if he failed to save Molly. But if he learned that he was the one who had the chance to come back to life and not her? Yeah, that would have seriously wrecked his mental state.

-That moment when you realize that it was TWO souls hovering on the edge between life and death that changed everything in the Ghost World. Also I could be wrong, but I caught that Molly AND Scratch both have a brighter glow compared to most other ghosts in the Ghost World. Was this stealth foreshadowing, or just a coincidence?

-Scratch’s declaration that knowing Molly was the highlight of his afterlife. That moment when you realize Molly brought him joy after years of being miserable as both a ghost and as a human. This girl reached out to him and was able to get him to open up when no one else did. This girl who is showing him how to truly live once more. This girl who he openly declares to be his friend no matter what others will think.

-When I see Wraith!Molly hugging Libby and Scratch, I just wonder ‘WHY DOES MOLLY HAVE 3 ARMS?!’

-As good as this show is, a lot of folks who watch these Disney Channel shows are likely used to the more story-oriented shows. While the ‘slice of life’ style for TGAMM did pay off, the slow pace and length it took for the episodes to release likely worked against it and I could see why it didn’t attract more viewers at the time.

Stuff relating to Todd:

-Scratch possesses people a lot in this show, but especially in season 1. I’m reminded of someone who talked about the wraith theory on YouTube and he had this guess that Scratch might someday possess Todd and then realize something is different this time. I think that having Scratch use the possession trick so often was building up to that one moment in the last episode because it WAS a matter of time until he possessed Todd.

-As I said in a previous post, I caught Todd in the stands during The (Un)Natural, which was his ACTUAL debut episode. It was easy to miss the first time, but its a noticeable establishing character moment since he’s the only audience member who is visibly NOT happy despite that the team is winning.

-Molly stopping at Todd’s house during the song montage in the bandshell episode hits a lot differently now after the series finale. But then I laughed when she smacked him in the face with a flyer upon stopping by the house a second time in the same episode.

-We have confirmation that Scratch (as Todd) knew the mayor when they were kids and that is a tale I’m very curious about.

-I caught Todd in the audience during ‘Citizen McGee’ when the mayor bestows the honor of being mayor for a day to Molly. I admit a cynical side of me thinks that this is how he actually remembers her name in the last episode…. But at the same time he was so on auto-pilot during that time that he likely wouldn’t pay much attention or remember those events that well. (Plus, you can’t be expected to remember someone’s name once all the time). I refuse to believe that he remembered this event and that Scratch’s memories were what actually triggered the name.

-Todd’s actual lines are very limited (I don’t think he gets many in season 2 compared to this one). While Dana Snyder was voicing him, Snyder lowered his voice so much that it’s really hard to tell that he’s the one voicing Todd. I keep putting my ear to my computer to listen, but Todd barely sounds like Dana. I think they did this on purpose to avoid making it too obvious that Todd IS Scratch. (And that’s probably why he doesn’t talk as much in season 2…. Until the last episode of course).

-The Internship seems to double as foreshadowing, and not just because Todd appears or that his ‘junk’ held some very crucial clues. Molly believes that the pawnshop is where happy memories go to die while Weird Larry assures her that it’s where memories can be reborn into something new. So… is the pawnshop a metaphor for Scratch’s own depression causing his ‘death’ and how he’ll be resurrected into a happier person?

#the ghost and molly mcgee #the ghost and molly mcgee spoilers #i'll need a break before i rewatch all of season 2 #molly mcgee #scratch the ghost #todd mortenson

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mawofmeraxes · 1 year

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Breaking Point

request: Omg loved your fic Sneaking Out! Could you please write something for Eddie x fem!reader having an argument (angst, with fluff at the end)? Like maybe they're adults & married and it's more serious?

summary: Over five years after you had escaped from the upside down once and for all, you and Eddie discuss moving out of Hawkins, Indiana and going somewhere where Eddie wouldn't have to be scared for his life every day.

characters: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: fighting, angst, fluff, happy ending, married life, marital fighting, arguments, mean eddie, angry Eddie, sad Eddie, yelling, angry reader, crying, cursing

masterlist

Eddie had been out all day.

The job he had taken over at Jimmy's Mechanic Shop seemed to take up so much more of his time recently, not that you were opposed or anything.

Living with your fiancé meant that you got to spend much more time together than when you were young high schoolers running around town causing a ruckus everywhere.

So having some more free time just to yourself wasn't something you were entirely upset about, although you were starting to miss seeing him for such a large part of your day.

It was just something that you would have to grow used to.

Something you didn't want to get used to, however, was the amount of times you had to scrub off spray paint from your front door.

It had been five years. Five years since the deaths of Chrissy and many others.

Five fucking years and people still tried to blame Eddie even though he had been proclaimed innocent for all to hear, with the good ol' chief of police Jim Hopper (who had surprised everyone with his return after his so called death) backing him up as much as he could.

Hopper had even arrested a few of the previous vandals when you had called him upon arriving home and catching them in the middle of the act.

Yet there still seemed to be some people in this close-minded god-forsaken town who still thought that Eddie, your sweet goofball Eddie, was capable of cold blooded murder.

It made you sick to your stomach.

You had spent some hours today running your usual errands before coming home, which meant that your house was empty with no cars in front.

Meaning that the usual assholes who would spray-paint "freak", "murderer" and "killer's whore" (among many others) had the perfect opportunity to do their usual crime, just like usual.

When you got home and saw the words sprayed onto your door again, you just couldn't take it anymore.

You were like a tornado as you rushed through the house, gathering all of the correct cleaning materials that had you learned worked best after much trial and error.

You had to get it off before Eddie came home.

Luckily he had only known about it happening a few times. But other times that it had happened you had managed to clean it up before he came home, where you proceeded to act like nothing had happened and all was well.

All while you festered in your anger and your desperation to leave this town.

This town which had done nothing good for either of you. Branding him a freak and a killer when he was anything but. And calling you a slut and a whore for being with him.

Eddie was the most generous and caring man you had ever met. He was like a golden retriever with curly dark hair. Happy all the time, ready to cuddle and always licking your face. The man wasn’t capable of even harming a fly.

He was the epitome of a gentleman. Always ensuring that you were okay, cooking dinner for you when you felt unwell, massaging you when you were achy and sore.

He was perfect. Yet the people in this town hated him.

Treated him like shit all because he dressed differently, acted differently, and wasn't a sporty jock.

In the end you would usually cheer each other up by saying that they were all just stuck up assholes who were jealous of him. They were jealous that they weren't able to act as freely as him. That they had secluded themselves in a bubble of conformity that they were too scared to leave.

You quickly pulled the front door back open and slammed it before setting all of your cleaning supplies down. You sprayed the door with the one spray that you had found that worked and began scrubbing.

Eddie could be home at any second and you needed this stupid paint to be gone before he pulled in.

He had been having a little bit of a rough week due to the 5 year anniversary of Chrissy's death coming up. The five year anniversary of when you almost lost him forever.

It was hard on both of you, considering you were there with him for almost all of it. But you knew he struggled with it much more than you; both his body and his mind had been littered with scars ever since.

When he had sent you and Dustin back into the rightside up and cut the sheets before he could follow, you had felt your heart shatter in two. You had watched as he told you he loved you before sprinting outside of the trailer and into the cacophony of bats.

You had almost broken down then and there, had it not been for Dustin grabbing you by the arms and dragging your ass back in with him.

When you had managed to get back in through the portal and found Eddie, you knew that the chances of him surviving were slim.

But he was your Eds. And that boy would pull through if it meant that you would be there with him the entire time.

And after all of that. After all of the suffering that you and he had endured, these assholes just had to vandalize your home as a reminder again and again and again.

You were scrubbing like a madman now, watching as the paint smudged off and the color further smeared on the door.

You didn't even hear the car pull up, but you did hear when the car door slammed.

You turned and there he was. Eds. Greasy from the cars he had worked on throughout the day, staring at you and the paint stained door with an unreadable look in his eyes.

Your shoulder slumped, disappointed that you had been unable to get it off in time. Disappointed that he had to see it when he had been having a terrible week already.

He walked up the driveway and to the door, simply grabbing your shoulder and giving it a squeeze before passing you, opening the vandalized front door and going inside, leaving it open.

You sighed, feeling guilty for something that you hadn't even done. Feeling like you were the one that had brought that look into his eyes.

You knew you weren't, you really did, but that didn't stop you from feeling like shit about it.

You looked at the door again, wide open and showing the interior of your home and sighed once more before grabbing the door and pulling it closed so you could finish scrubbing the paint from it.

It didn't take long before all of the evidence of the vandalism was removed. The door was as clean as it had been when you left earlier, and now it was like the incident had never happened.

Now you had to face the turmoil that was sure to be raging in your home.

The house was quiet inside, no sounds that would allude to anyone being home to be heard.

You set the supplies down in the kitchen before taking your shoes off and making your way upstairs to your bedroom where you knew he would be taking his usual after-work shower.

When you entered the room, the ensuite door was closed and you could hear the faint sound of the shower running.

You assumed he was almost done, so you sat on the side of your bed and decided to wait until he was done.

You had to talk about it.

The look on his face when he came home broke your heart.

Neither of you deserved this.

Neither of you deserved to face the wrath of a town that didn't want to face the facts. A town that didn't want to accept that Eddie had done no wrong and is an innocent man.

You wanted to leave.

You had been thinking about it for a while now.

Contemplating the both of you moving out somewhere that would be welcoming. Somewhere where there would be no worry about dirty looks, vandalized doors or death threats.

Somewhere where all you had to worry about was what you were having for dinner and when the two of you could go out safely again, like you used to.

As you sat on the bed and let your thoughts run rampant, the shower in the bathroom turned off and not long later Eddie walked out. Hair dripping down his shirtless torso as he toweled it dry.

Your focus turned outward towards him, and he stopped at the look you gave him.

"I don't want to talk about it today, baby." He muttered, turning back to the bathroom to hang his towel as you stood up and crossed your arms.

You sighed, "I know, Eds, but I don't want to do this anymore." He turned to look at you, a scared look on his face. "I can't stand seeing the look on your face every time someone gives us a dirty look. It breaks my heart knowing that this town will always hate you for something you didn't even do." You breathe in before continuing, "and I try so hard to get the words off our door every time it happens because I know seeing them makes it worse but I can't keep doing it. They keep getting away with it Eddie!"

He stands there as you say this to him. A blank but sad look on his face. When you stop talking he walks over to where you stand by the bed and takes a seat, rubbing his hands across his face and releasing a sigh of his own. He looks up to you, his soft doe eyes full of sadness.

"What happens when their threats aren't just threats anymore Eddie?" You whisper, dropping to your knees grasping his hands in yours. "I'm in this home alone for hours after I'm done working baby, what if they come to hurt you and I'm the only one here? What happens when you're not here and we can't protect each other?" You begin to gasp for breath, tears welling up in your eyes as your breathing becomes more and more erratic. "What happens if I'm here one day and you're out there and they hurt you? I can't stop them, Eds." The tears start falling, and Eddie's hands grip yours tightly as they start to stream down your cheeks.

"I know, baby. But there's nothing we can do about it." He says, eyes looking into yours while his hands move to wipe away your tears.

But there is something you could do about it. You could leave.

Your eyes widen in earnest, and you sit up straighter on your knees. "But there is something," you say, "Eddie, baby we don't have to stay here. We can leave." He freezes completely, but you don't notice. "We can find a nice little town or a city! We can get jobs anywhere, and we can find a nice little home or even an apartment to move into!" A smile starts to widen on your face at the idea, but Eddie is anything but happy. There is a frown starting to mar his face, and in his eyes there is complete devastation.

"Baby, we can't just leave."

And then it's your turn to freeze. You can feel your heart breaking into two and your blood turning ice cold.

"Why not?" And the tears are back, pooling in your eyes as Eddie stares at you. Your hands start to loosen their grip on his own. "Why stay here? There's nothing for us here but pain." You give his hands a squeeze, but it's him who loosens his grip now until your hands fall from his. He continues to stare at you and starts shaking his head.

"You know why we have to stay here!" His voice is louder than before, and it makes you jump a little bit. "Everyone is here!" You lean back on your heels before starting to stand up so you can back away from him as he continues to break your heart. "All of our friends are here! My uncle is here!"

Now you stand a few feet away, backed up from the bed as he continues to sit on it, tears streaming down your face as your lips tremble and your hands shake. "I know that! Obviously I know that!" You say, and you have to look away from his face as he stares at you, a disbelieving look on his face. As though your suggestion is simply something crazy. "But Eds they'd understand!" You say, raising your voice a little. "They would understand because they know what we're going through. And it's not like we'd have to go far! We can go somewhere else in Indiana, or maybe Ohio! That way we wouldn't be that far and we can visit them and they can visit us!"

He just sits there and stares at you. His head begins shaking, and he stands up to start walking towards you.

You stand still, allowing him to come up to you where he puts his hands on your shoulders. "We have to stay here." He mutters, bending down slightly so his face is directly in front of yours. His own eyes are tearing up now. "After everything with the upside down we have to stay here. What if something happens again? We have to be here to help everyone!”

Your eyes widen in disbelief, "Eddie, it's been years!" You can't help but yell at this point. He flinches back in shock at the sudden raise in your voice.

It feels like he can't hear what you're saying. Why does the upside down matter right now? El finally closed the last gate years ago! And everyone was keeping a close eye on things now that they were all adults and Hopper was back. There was nothing to worry about.

“Just because it’s been years doesn’t mean that something couldn’t happen again!” He says, “Everytime they thought they closed the gates for good he came back stronger than before! What if he comes back again and this time we can’t do anything?” He’s looking at you with disbelief again. Like you have no idea exactly what happened and exactly how strong Vecna was.

"Eds, the gates aren’t going to just open up again! Vecna is dead!" You pull yourself away from him. Your hands going up to your head where you run them through your hair, slightly pulling in stress. "I just want to be able to go through our days with no stress! Nobody on our backs, looking at us like we've done something wrong, thinking the worst of us. One day they might kill you Eddie, just because they can!" You turn back to face him. "What happens when they decide that enough is enough?"

He goes to say something but you cut him off, "The gates don't matter! Hawkins doesn't matter! None of that matters if these god damn fucking people kill you first!" You finish your sentence with a hoarse yell.

At this point Eddie is standing directly in front of you, his eyes wide in shock from the loudness of your voice, the tears streaming down your blotchy red face while you heave in air. His own eyes start to well with tears. Your voice croaks out a whisper, "We could be happier somewhere else..." You let out a sob. “Safer somewhere else…”

The tears that have been forming in his eyes are now falling down his face, matching yours. "Baby..." He murmurs. “I know. I know, trust me I really do.”

You collapse onto your knees as a sob wracks through your whole body, Eddie quickly walking towards you and falling onto his own knees as you both start crying together.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, "I'm so sorry, baby." And he murmurs it over and over and over again. “I just feel like we can’t leave. We need to stay here to help keep everyone safe.” He has you cradled into his chest now, his hands wrapped around your head and holding you to him. You pull back a little and look at his face. It’s red now, to match your own. His eyes are bloodshot and his cheeks covered in tears. He gives you a sad smile. “But I know that if we stay here it’ll only make us more miserable than we already are.” You continue to watch him. He moves one of his hands to the back of your head to cup your cheek, wiping the tears that lie there away with his thumb. “I’m sorry, baby.”

The slam of the car's trunk signifies that the last box has been loaded up. You stand there, hands on your hips, breathing in large lungfuls of air as the sweat drips down your forehead.

It was so hot that day. Sun blistering down onto you, skin sweaty.

Of course this just had to be the day that you and Eddie were moving to your new home.

The two of you had decided that enough was enough. After seeing your reaction to everything and talking to all of your friends about how he felt, Eddie had realized that the both of you moving out of Hawkins was for the best.

You had both contacted real-estate agents, checking out homes for sale and apartments in cities, and had found a quaint little place in another town more north of Indiana. It was a few hours away, but it was enough that no one in town recognized either of you, and the stories of what occurred in Hawkins had been swept away as much as possible.

Your eyes glanced over to the house as Eddie walked out with the last of your bags, keys in his hands as he locked it up for the final time.

A smile spread across your face, eyes filled with love as he walked towards you and the car.

He had his own smile on his face, his eyes squinted in happiness while he looked at you.

He opened up the backseat door, throwing both bags in before leaning over it, his arms coming to rest atop of it with his head following. He makes a pouty face up at you and purses his lips so you'll give him a kiss.

You laugh at him before leaning forward to meet his lips with yours.

You have never been happier. And you were so excited to start your new lives together.

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amethystunarmed · 5 months

Text

I Need a Shovel to Love Him

Word Count: 4,226 A03 Link Richie calls Peter after the events of the opening night of Workin' Girls.

~~~

Holy fucking shit.

Peter is about to lose his virginity to Stephanie Lauter.

They are on the couch in Peter's brother's apartment. Ted is gone for the evening, went to Ruth’s musical at the Starlight, but he had thrown a condom at Peter with a wink before he left. Peter was equal parts mortified and grateful.

By pure luck, Peter and Steph had managed to avoid getting tickets the same night Ted was going, giving them an opportunity to finally go all the way. They are making out on the couch, Steph straddling him while he gazes up at her in awe. Neither of them are wearing their shirts (Peter has come a long way from the first time he saw Steph in her bra and got so flustered he had to stop. He's just lucky she thought it was both hilarious and adorable). Her skin is hot against his, and when she trails her fingers down his spine, it gives him chills. Steph has finally taken pity on Peter, and moved to take her bra off herself, when the phone rings.

Pete sits up to grab it and Steph groans, flopping forward so her head rests on his chest.

"Are you serious Spankoffski? You're answering your fucking phone right now?"

"I figure if it's my brother telling us he's on his way back because he finally realized the show isn't about sex workers, we'd want to know."

"... You get a pass just this once." She slides off his lap and Peter immediately misses her weight.

Peter fumbles for his phone and is surprised by the name that pops up.

The Power of God and Anime. Richie.

Peter frowns down at his phone. Richie would rather die than make a phone call. For all Ruth loved talking to telemarketers, Richie about broke out in hives every time he had to make a call. (Between his phobia and Ruth's penchant for making the delivery boy uncomfortable, Peter had been making calls to Pizza Hut for them for years.) Richie wouldn't call. Not unless...

Peter hits the button and brings the phone to his ear, even as Stephanie groans behind him. He slides his legs off the couch and stands as he talks.

"Hey Richie, what's up? Aren't you at the show?"

Sobbing. Richie is sobbing. Peter's stomach sinks. "Richie? Richie, what's happening?"

"Pete?" Steph asks, suddenly concerned. Peter holds a finger up to her.

Richie hiccups. His voice is shaky, so much that Pete can barely understand him.

"He- he- He went crazy, he killed them-"

Peter feels like he's had ice water dumped over him.

"Who? Who killed who, Richie?" Peter gets up and grabs his shirt from where he'd thrown it earlier.

"Everyone, he- he-"

"Where are you?"

"The Theater."

Oh thank God.

"Richie, my brother is there, go find Ted, okay?" Ted was a fucking asshole but he would (probably) look out for Ruth and Richie, if only so Pete didn't tear him a new one. "He'll get you and Ruth out of there okay?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you," Richie says, sniffling, voice hitching. "Ruth and Ted are dead, Peter."

Peter drops his phone.

He doesn't remember what happens next. He blinks and they're in the back of Mayor Lauter’s limo. Steph is holding Peter's now cracked phone to her ear. Miss Tessburger is prattling on about something but Pete can't understand her. Her words sound like a broken garbage disposal, continually revving but never getting any clearer.

He blinks again and Steph is kneeling in front of him. She sways as they take a sharp turn. She should be wearing a seatbelt, he thinks, inanely.

"Pete, you're scaring me."

Peter doesn't know why. He hasn't even done anything.

He blinks and they're at the theater. Steph's hand is firm in his, the only thing that keeps him from drifting away. He trails behind her, letting her guide him to the sirens and the flashing lights. Until he sees-

Richie.

Peter loses time again. Suddenly he is sprinting, and Richie is too and Peter slams into him and they fall to the ground and Peter has his fingernails clawed tightly into Richie's vest so nothing can pry Richie away from him and-

He is sitting in the back of the ambulance. A scratchy orange blanket is wrapped around his shoulders. Richie is next to him. He has Peter's hand in a death grip, squeezing so tight Peter is beginning to lose feeling in his fingers.

An EMT is shining a light in his penlight in Peter’s eyes. It fucking hurts. Peter blinks aggressively at him.

“His pupils dilate, I don’t see any sign of concussion. As far as I can tell, Peter here is just suffering from a pretty extreme shock.”

He gives Peter a pitying little smile. Peter wants to knock his teeth out.

“But he’s not responding.” Stephanie is standing off the shoulder of the EMT. She has her arms crossed over her chest, her chin cocked out. It’s the same stance she’d had when she’d stood down Max Jagerman after they first started dating. It means she’s scared. “You can see it, he did it in the car too. Why the fuck can’t he hear us?”

The EMT hesitates a moment, then speaks slowly, like an adult on Sesame Street.

“Sometimes, when someone goes through something terrible, their brain will... take them away for a little. It’s a defense mechanism.”

Peter has already heard enough of this.

“You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not here.”

“Oh, thank god.” The tension melts out of Steph as she throws herself at Peter’s free side. Her arms wrap around his shoulder and she tucks her head into his neck, like she is trying to get as close to him as possible. “You’re okay. Jesus Pete, never scare me like that again.”

"Pete?" Steph and Peter pull away from each other to look at a Black man in a checkered shirt. He nervously fiddles with a button on the cuff of his sleeve. Peter hadn’t initially noticed him, but he’s pretty sure the man had been standing there for a while. He seemed vaguely familiar, but Peter couldn’t place him. "You're Peter Spankoffski, right?"

Steph pushes over the ambulance, and stands in between him and Peter and Richie. "Listen, if you want a statement, go talk to some other smarmy asshole looking to get famous off this. Try Linda Monroe, she has an affinity for vultures." She is so fucking cool, so brave. Peter thinks he may be in love with her.

Oh my god he's in love with her.

He's in love with Stephanie Lauter.

He wants to tell Ruth, even though she'll ask a million uncomfortable questions.

He wants to tell Ted, even though he'd give some awful advice about not being tied down.

Peter squeezes Richie’s hand.

"No, no," the man says. "I'm one of Ted's co-workers? Bill. Do you remember me?” The name slots into place. Peter remembers him in the backgrounds of office party pictures Ted had shown him and from when Ted brought Peter to a “Bring Your Kid to Work Day” even before he moved in with Ted full time. He has a recollection of Bill smiling at him from where he had hidden behind Ted, telling him, Richie, and Alice Woodward to all play nice together. Peter gives him a faint nod, which puts Bill somewhat at ease.

“Look at you, all grown up. So tall!” He is studying Peter with a sad sort of softness, cataloging all the changes from that little kid he’d met years ago. Peter wants to find the nearest bridge he can jump off of to avoid this conversation. “I wouldn’t have recognized you if Ted hadn’t had a picture on his desk."

Peter wonders if he spontaneously developed a latex allergy, it feels like his throat is swelling shut. “He... He has a picture of me on his desk?”

"Yes, he does.” Peter waits for him to elaborate, but Bill just offers him an awkward little half smile. Which, what the fuck? Did he just come over to here to remind Peter he was going to have to go to his brother’s fucking office and clean out his desk?

“Bill, I don’t want to be rude, but... why are you here?”

“Oh.” Bill furrows his brow at that, like he isn’t actually sure. “We came here together. Ted and I."

Peter squints at him. "Like a date?" He knew Ted had been sleeping around the office (knew too much about it, because his brother was kind of a slut), but he'd been pretty sure he'd been hung up on someone named Charlotte.

"No!" Bill denies, "He- I had an extra ticket, and I- he was the only one who wanted to come." Bill suddenly looked nauseous. "H- he was the only one who wanted to come tonight, and to spend time with me, and the whole night I just-"

"So you're the reason my brother is dead." The whole group snaps their heads to stare at him, even the EMT. He doesn’t know why they all look so surprised. It seems like a pretty logical deduction to make.

Steph wraps her arm around Peter’s shoulder, but she stays standing. He feels small tucked against her side. It feels nice.

Richie gives his hand a squeeze and runs his finger along the side of Peter’s hand. It feels nice too.

Bill sucks in a breath, like somebody stabbed him. Which is fucking hilarious, given the circumstances. He looks at Peter like Peter did something to hurt him. It does not feel nice.

“What? Don’t have anything to say about it? You just said it, you were the reason he was here.” The EMT winces, and Peter glares at him. He wisely decides to fuck off to the front of the ambulance.

“Peter, that’s not- I’m didn’t-” Bill fumbles over himself. Peter isn’t sure what he fucking expected.

“I think you should go.”

“Right, right, but I just wanted to say, if you need anything, you can-” He fumbles with his back pocket and pulls out a wallet, nearly dropping it on the ground. Ted always says that Bill never knows when to drop a subject, and so far, Peter isn’t seeing anything to disapprove this fact.

“Here,” Bill says, as he holds a white card out to Peter. “My number’s on there, you can give me a call-"

And Peter just wants him to shut the fuck up.

"I said fucking GO!"

Bill jumps and drops his business card. Peter feels bad, but he's too fucking tired to apologize. He slumps against Steph's shoulder. Her breathing feels like a gravitational pull, and he doesn't think he could escape it if he tried.

Bill scurries off, and Peter is grateful. “Fuck,” he groans, hiding his face in the crown of Stephanie’s head. She smells like sweat and that fruity shampoo her dad won’t stop buying for her. “Ted was right, he’s a fucking busybody.” It tears through his chest, even saying his brother’s name. He thinks the only thing that could hurt worse would have been not saying it.

It grows quiet. At least, as quiet as the site of a disaster can be. If he listens carefully, he can hear Chief Sweetly crying about one of the actors or Officer Bailey debating with Grace Chasity over who gets to keep his gun. (He's pretty sure Grace is winning.) The noises of the parking lot combine into a low background, police interrogations and muffled sobbing weaving into a dull drone. The police have turned their sirens off, but the lights still flicker red and blue and white. Peter closes his eyes, and the solid colors flicker across the black of his eyelids. The repetition is soothing, smoothing over the anxious hum that has been blaring a klaxon in the back of his brain. Between the warm pillar of Steph in front of him and Richie’s solid weight across his back, Peter finds his eyes drifting shut.

Richie’s shoulders hitching, however, gets him wide awake in an instant. Peter sits up, away from Steph, and pulls Richie closer to him, so he is angled toward Peter. Silent tears flood Richie’s cheeks. His mouth is screwed up in a crooked line.

“What happened?” Peter asks, frantically looking Richie over. He seemed fine when they arrived, but Peter had just been happy he was breathing, he could have missed something important-

"It's my fault Ruth is dead," Richie weeps.

"What?"

"I killed her, Peter. I killed Ruth." Tears stream down Richie's cheeks.

"I thought you said-"

"I told her to audition! She wasn't going too, she said she wouldn't get in. I'm the one... I'm the reason."

Oh fuck.

"Richie..."

Richie just sobs and latches onto his shoulder. Peter can feel time slipping again and he digs his nails into his palm to stay present.

"Richie, it's not your fault."

"I'm the reason she was here."

The sick feeling in Peter's gut twists deeper. That isn't what he... Fuck. What does he say? What does he say?

Steph sees his hesitation and gets a wild look in her eyes. Her hand flutters to the back of Peter’s neck. Her fingernails graze the skin in a repetitive line, like she is trying to beckon him back. He wonders if she thinks he lost time again. If so, she doesn’t say. She focuses all her attention on Richie. "It's not your fault, okay? You blame the murderer, you blame the theater for hiring this whackjob, you blame God for all I care, but you don't blame yourself for that shit, okay? That's how you drive yourself crazy, and Ruth wouldn't want that, you torturing yourself for believing in her. Okay?" She reaches across Peter and takes Richie's free hand. "Promise me."

"Promise you?"

"You won't blame yourself. Promise me."

"I'll... I'll try.”Steph opens her mouth, most likely to argue, but she is interrupted. From the side of the ambulance, the EMT clears his throat, far too loudly, and rounds the corner.

Steph glares at him, but only says, "We'll work on it.” Richie nods, and Peter is positive he is counting on her forgetting about it.

With the EMT back, their closeness starts to itch. Peter can feel him searching them, trying to figure out just what they mean to each other. Peter is pretty sure a vivisection would feel less intrusive.

The three of them untangle from one other. Steph habitually tucks her hair behind her ears, straightening to perfect posture. Even at the scene of a disaster, she maintains her image. Not that Peter blames her. He is sure Dan and Donna will have all sorts of footage from tonight all over the news tomorrow. As a local celebrity, Stephanie will probably get a featured segment. The thought makes him feel nauseous. "Everything seems to be in order!" The EMT says brightly. "I don't think you two need to go to the hospital. Do you three have someone who can take you home?"

"My uncle is coming to get me," Peter lets him know. He looks toward Stephanie and Peter. “He can probably get the two of you too!”

Stephanie's frown deepens. It has been such a common expression for her tonight, Peter feels bad. He has etched so much grief into her face. "But Peter-"

"I'm fine, Steph."

"No you're fucking not. You keep fucking... Leaving."

"I've been here the whole time."

"But you haven't. The lights are on but nobody is home. It's... It's fucking terrifying, Pete."

Oh.

Pete turns to Richie, who nods. His palm is slick with sweat against Peter's. He looks freaked out, even considering everything that has happened tonight, which Peter again feels bad about. He is letting everyone down today. Still... There is one person he can't fail. He can't.

Peter looks up at the EMT.

“Where is my brother?”

Richie swallows nervously. Peter feels his Adam's apple bob against his shoulder. "Pete...” He says slowly, like Peter just asked if he could move to Clivesdale. “He's d-"

"I fucking got that." He doesn't need a reminder. "Where... Where did they take him. After."

The EMT presses his lips together. “You should let your parents handle that, sweetie-”

“Then it’ll never get done. Where is he?”

“Everyone who was... who had passed before we arrived was taken to the hospital morgue.”

“Huh.” Images of Ted, pale and expressionless on a silver slab flash through his head. So many nurses were going to see Ted naked. He would have been ecstatic.

Then Peter is laughing. He is laughing so hard he can’t breathe. Stephanie and Richie are saying something, and they sound almost frantic and someone is shaking his shoulder but it’s so fucking funny Peter can’t stop. Tears stream down his cheeks as he cackles. And at some point his laughs have turned to sobs. They shake his whole body, and he thinks he might be screaming. He falls into Richie, and Richie is sobbing too. He wraps his arms around Peter, and hugs him tight to his chest. Peter can feel wet spots on Richie’s shirt where he is soaking him with tears and snot, but Richie only holds him tighter.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Pete,” he murmurs over and over into Peter’s hair. A warm weight drapes over Pete’s back, and Stephanie reaches up to pet through Peter’s hair.

“Let it out baby, let it out.” Her voice is wet.

Peter isn’t sure how long they sit there, crying. Long enough, that Peter runs out of tears, and he just sniffles through shaky breaths, feeling like a wrung out dish towel.

“What am I going to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Where... Where am I going to stay?” His parents were out of the question. Peter wouldn’t go back, even if they wouldn’t just slam the door in his face. Without Ted to pay rent on the apartment... “I’m homeless. Fuck.”

“You can stay with me!” Stephanie assures him.

“Your dad is going to be okay with that?”

“Are you kidding? He’ll love it. Taking you in right before the election? He’ll look like a hero.” She scoffs. “He’ll probably claim it was his idea.”

A car pulls into the parking lot, a beat up red Toyota probably older than Peter is himself. The bumper is more rust than metal. At the wheel is the mean barista from Beanie's. She is wearing an expression that Peter has never seen on her before, blatant concern weighing her face. Out of the car, comes Richie’s uncle Paul. He is still in his suit, like he was relaxing at home in a starched shirt and tie. Considering everything he knows about Paul, that probably was the case.

“Richie!” He yells, louder than Peter imagined he could be, “Richie!” His head frantically turns back and forth as he scans the crowds.

“Over here!” Richie yells, standing and waving his and Peter’s conjoined hands. He has backed up, so the lines of their legs are still pressed together.

Paul’s entire body decompresses when he sees Richie, like he is sighing with his entire body. He staggers against the hood of the car, briefly studying himself with his hands, before pushing past it. He cuts the corner too fast, slams his thigh into the headlight, but he doesn't even seem to notice the impact. He speedwalks over to the back of the ambulance, running up to his nephew to take Richie's face into his hands. “Richie,” he gasps, like holding him is the first breath of oxygen he has gotten all night. Something about it makes Peter's already sore eyes sting, and he has to swallow a lump in his throat.

Richie looks up at Paul with a brittle smile. “Hi Uncle Paul. Thank you for coming.” He says it like Paul has picked him up early from a sleepover. Paul doesn't even answer. He just opens his mouth and then closes it, once, twice, then a third time. Then he pulls Richie forward, unflinchingly, into his chest. His shoulders shake.

“Jeez, Uncle Paul!” Richie shrieks, “You're crushing me.” He doesn't fight the hold though, merely wraps his free arm around Paul and squeezes. The hand still holding Peter’s trembles.

The mean barista jogs up to them, finally catching up from where Paul had run off without her. Peter remembers Richie mentioning she and Paul were dating, but Peter hadn't realized they were “Drive me to get my nephew from the scene of a mass murder” serious. Good for Paul.

"Hey kid. How are you holding up?"

Richie sniffs. "Sorry, Emma. I know you were excited to have dinner with Tom and Tim."

"Kid, you don't have to apologize for... For any of it. I'm just glad you're okay." She places her hand on Paul's shoulder. “Babe, you're going to suffocate him.”

“Right, right,” Paul says, distantly. He lets Richie lean away, hands slowly falling, like he is ready to reach out and grab him again at any moment. He glances over, paling at the sight of Peter and Stephanie. He clears his throat as he processes their presence. “Hello Peter. Stephanie.” He says Stephanie's name slowly, like midway through saying it, he realized he wasn’t actually sure he was right.

She graciously doesn't mention it. “Hey, Mr. Matthews.” Paul frowns, like he always has the few times she's joined them for a study session, but for once doesn't argue. Instead, he turns to Peter.

“Richie mentioned that Ted... Is... Is he, um-”

Peter doesn't have the patience for this. “Ted's dead, yeah.”

Paul gets that same stricken look Bill had, and maybe Peter should be nicer, but to be honest, he just wants people to stop looking at him. Even the fucking barista, who Peter is 99% sure has spit in his hot chocolate, is looking at him like he's a walking tragedy and Peter can hardly stand the writhing weight of their pity.

“Okay... Okay, okay,” Paul repeats, slowly, taking a deep breath. "I'm... I'm sorry for your loss. Ted and I weren't close but... I know he really, really loved you."

It's so impersonal, so distant. It’s a stranger’s eulogy.

It's exactly what Peter expects from Paul. Their mismatched relationship used to be something Peter, Ruth, and Richie laughed at Ted recalling his "best friend Paul" while Paul clearly only tolerated Ted, at best. Ruth had once called it a "tragic, one-sided bromance" and Peter had laughed so hard, milk shot out his nose. But Ruth isn't here. And Ted isn't here. And Paul doesn't like Peter's brother. And Peter can't help but say it.

"Ted called you his best friend." From the way Paul's eyes widen, this is news to him.

"Oh. I... I didn't know he, um, felt that way. I kind of thought he didn't like me."

"Being mean is how Ted shows affection. He learned it from our parents."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Pete," Steph exhales, like the words pain her. She nuzzles closer to his shoulder.

"Speaking of parents,” Paul says, in that frantic way he does when he is trying to change the subject, “are they coming to pick you up?"

"Fuck, I hope not." Peter says, before he can stop himself. He groans. Fuck his filter tonight, apparently he’ll just say anything. Stephanie, Paul, and Emma are looking at him with barely masked concern.

“Peter can stay over, right?” Richie asks, nervously. He still hasn't let go of Peter. Peter can't imagine asking him too.

“Of course,” Paul says and nods toward Peter. Then he looks at Stephanie. “Are you... Are you coming as well?”

“I...” Steph looks between them. “I’m not-” It is the most at-a-loss Pete has ever seen her. “I wouldn’t want to... You guys were... Ruth and I, we weren’t... We only hung out a few times, and... I shouldn’t.” It’s Richie who reaches out and grabs her hand.

“Please, come with us. For Pete, and... for me?” Somehow, tears begin to drip down Richie’s face. (Peter is distantly impressed. He thinks that if he cried anymore, he would crumble into dust.) “You’re our friend, Steph. You are Ruth’s friend too.” He chuckles, and chokes on it. “She was so excited to have a friend who was a girl, you had no idea.”

Steph sniffles a bit. “She was my first girl friend too. At least, the first one who was actually nice to me.”

“Steph...” Paul says. Peter didn’t realize it at first, but his eyes are red. “Even if you think you weren’t as close-” Paul’s voice cracks, “-as you should have been, you get to be sad too, okay?”

“Paul...” Emma says, a twinge of genuine grief in her tone, but Peter can’t bring himself to care about whatever the fuck they are talking about, because Steph is looking between him and Richie like she is waiting for them to say something. Words are fucking impossible but to be honest, Peter doesn’t want to talk anyways. He holds his arms out and Stephanie falls into them. And Peter was wrong, because as Steph silently cries into his shoulder and Richie worms his ways into the hug, shoulders heaving, Peter finds he has more tears left to shed after all.

#peter spankoffski #npmd #stephanie lauter #richie lipschitz #hatchetfield #workin boys #workin boys spoilers #character death #lautski #ted spankoffski #ruth fleming #hatchetverse #angst #hurt/comfort #my writing #my fanfic #paul matthews

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cookies-and-music · 2 months

Text

Ghost. - part 9: Toxic.

I suggest listening to Mery on a Cross by Ghost reading this.

Part 1 here - part 10 here .

PAIRING: TVA!LokixOC

RATING: ALL

WARNINGS: Captain America wouldn't approve the language

SUMMARY: Loki meets sombody at the TVA he once knew. Unfortunately she doesn't seem to remember him.

To solve the chaos that had erupted at the TVA and set everything right before it collapsed, a series of answers were needed, none of which anyone present had; therefore, while Loki and Mobius were busy trying to find X-5 and consequently Sylvie, Lydia was tasked with finding Renslayer and Miss Minutes. A burden that had come along with her promotion to analyst.

"We haven't found any trace of Renslayer's tempad," Lydia approached briskly, accompanied by Casey and B-15, to Mobius's desk where he and Loki were busy with X-5's tempad, "but we traced the recipient of her last message: Miss Minutes."

"Moreover, Renslayer and He Who Remains are in cahoots," Loki nodded, "I found out while I was in the past."

"What a woman... full of surprises," B-15 scoffed.

"What... are you two doing?" Lydia leaned in close to Loki. Not because she desperately wanted his proximity, especially after believing him dead, partly because of her. Absolutely not. It was to get a better look at the tempad, of course.

"We're trying to figure out how this modified tempad of X-5 works," Loki turned to her, and Lydia could hear his breath with every syllable he uttered. Not that it affected her.

"A man accustomed to using 80s technology and an alien god from Asgard?" She asked amusedly, glancing from one to the other.

"Hey, look, we're doing just fine," Mobius retorted.

"No, not really," Casey shook his head.

"I think my team could get better results," she reached out with a smirk, her hand open towards Loki, who exchanged a glance with Mobius before handing the tempad over to Lydia.

"Also, I'd like to be present when you question X-5" She passed the object to Casey.

"What?" Mobius spread his arms.

"He might have relevant information about the Minus/Renslayer issue, which is my case."

"Our case" B-15 emphasized.

"Sure" Lydia rolled her eyes, and Loki shot her a glance, amused at how she was turning work into a personal competition with Mobius, "anyway, it's a request you can't refuse, Mobius," she smiled, "it would be unprofessional."

Mobius rolled his eyes, "Am I ever going to get rid of you? How do you manage to worm your way in everywhere?"

"I'm very flexible."

Loki's imagination projected a couple of images of how flexible Lydia could be, but he pushed them back before anyone could notice.

---

"Bred is an asshole, so don't let him provoke you," Mobius had said, but it was very difficult. And Loki had just offered the opportunity to sting by saying his help was needed because there were "lives at stake."

"Lives at stake," Brad repeated. "You've got a lot of nerve... everyone here knows what you're doing, you're just trying to make up for all the terrible and horrible things you've done in life. You're pathetic."

Lydia clenched her jaw but didn't speak. Provocation, it was just provocation.

"I've read your file. You're the problem. Every time we've found one of you. You think you're special, but you're not. No matter what you wear or what lies you tell, in the end, all you do is destroy those around you," Brad glanced towards Lydia. She just looked at him with disgust before glancing at Loki, who kept his low.

"As it happened with your mother."

Lydia snapped.

"You ugly piece of shit," she managed only to take a step towards him before Loki blocked her with his body.

"You know that's what he wants," he said into her ear, "don't let him win." Lydia shifted her gaze to him and took a deep breath, trying to internalize all the calmness his blue irises conveyed.

"Don't listen to him, Princhett," Brad jeered, drawing her attention again, "what does he know about victories when all he can do is losing?"

Loki grabbed her chin, bringing her eyes back to him. Lydia swallowed and nodded slightly. She could handle it, she was fine. She was a professional.

"Stop trying to be a hero, buddy. You're a villain, and you're good at it."

Loki let her go, turning back to Brad.

"Thanks, Brad.” Loki let out a bitter laugh “Thanks a lot. I'm very touched. You're right. I've done terrible and horrible things," Lydia clenched her jaw again, to contain herself, "Yes, maybe that's who I am, they know it well. It's the real me... a loser," he smiled bitterly "I always have been and always will be."

Lydia glanced from him to Brad, trying to understand Loki's strategy.

"And perhaps I was... holding back something," he dangerously approached Brad, "maybe I was just waiting for the right moment, a moment like this, to do terrible and horrible things," he looked down at Brad, "to you."

Lydia hoped he would punch him. She really wanted to see that smug bastard's face distorted. No, it wasn't professional, but it was fair.

"So I'll ask you again: where is Sylvie?" He stressed her name.

"You're too fixated on her," Brad sneered.

"Okay, that's enough," Mobius grabbed Loki by the shoulder, pulling him towards Lydia who approached him, putting a hand on his arm. Not to stop him but to let him know she understood the discomfort he felt.

"You need a psychologist," Brad sneered, watching the scene, "I know one who does couples therapy, or maybe group therapy would be better since there are three of you."

She could have killed him. How much would it cost her? She was dead in the sacred timeline, and the TVA was about to collapse, she had nothing to lose.

"There's too much tension here," Mobius tried to lighten the mood, "Brad, cooperate with us, and we'll send you back to your beloved timeline, as if nothing ever happened. What do you say?" he offered with a smile.

"Would you?"

"Of course, I promise."

Brad let out a fake sigh before bursting into laughter, "Did you see? Damn Mobius, you should be an actor."

"I'm not, I'm an analyst."

"No, you're not!" Brad blurted out, "You're not an analyst because none of this is real. Do you know who you are at least in the timeline? The TVA isn't your real home. Do you have any idea who you've left behind? What your life could be like? You know they've taken our lives, you need to wake up."

"I'm awake."

"No, you need to wake up."

"I'm awake," Mobius repeated, this time more annoyed.

"You're asleep until you wake up, you're nothing. I'm nothing. She's nothing. I don't even know where to start," he looked at Loki, "You're nothing, and until you wake up, you're nonexistent, you're-"

Mobius jumped on him, with a speed Lydia could never have predicted, punching him square in the face.

"It's you who's nothing!"

Loki grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him away as Mobius continued to curse.

“You heard me? You’re nothing”

Lydia followed them out, letting B-15 close the door behind them.

Mobius walked away from the room quickly, still swearing about how Brad was, in short, an asshole.

"Is he okay?" Lydia looked up at Loki who shook his head, sighing.

"I'll go see. I'll update you later; I need to ask you some things."

Shit.

Lydia nodded, smiling in his direction, before Loki ran after Mobius.

---

Lydia spent the whole afternoon at the desk, unable to work, spending hours tapping the pencil on the wood. Her head kept reminding her of how Loki had tackled her with his body. They had never been so close. They had never touched so much.

Then he had approached Brad, and the tension she had sensed before had only increased when Loki had donned the villain's mask. Could it be true that she, the one of the sacred timeline, had really fallen in love with him, as Loki had claimed? Lydia shook her head, what she had seen in the footage was a confused, delirious, and fragile Loki, while the one she had seen a little earlier exuded power.

And then there was what Brad had said. "There’s three of you."

She wasn't in anything, not with Loki and least of all with Sylvie. And even if this absurd triangle were real, was Lydia the other woman? No, it was unfair. She had known Loki first, and then he had declared himself to her, sort of. And she had rejected him... more or less. Well, not really, she had rejected the him from the past. But she had, in fact, insulted the present him.

And if this particular interest in Loki was only due to the fact that he had distanced himself? That his focuns was on someone else? Was it possible that she was that toxic?

Her brain was exploding, and after a while, her eyelids began to droop, and Lydia decided to give up, burying her head between her arms on the desk.

When he arrived, Loki found her still asleep.

He smiled, his expression softening. Lately, Lydia had returned to having a scowling expression, always serious, like the Lydia he had known on Earth, while asleep she seemed to radiate so much tranquility and peace. Maybe it was really him making everything worse, ruining everyone's lives.

Loki reached out, caressing her head, and Lydia jerked awake, opening her eyes.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

Lydia blinked for a moment, focusing on him.

"Don't worry, I wasn't sleeping," she yawned.

"No?"

"I was resting."

A chuckle escaped Loki, disappearing immediately, leaving a sad expression on his face.

"Are you okay?".

"I was thinking about Brad's words," he leaned against Lydia's desk, supporting himself with his hands, "when I met you here at the TVA, your life was going smoothly, and the same was on Earth, before I met you-"

"Loki," Lydia put a hand on his, "you shouldn't give weight to what Brad said; he was trying to provoke us. He knows our stories and what can hurt us, and he uses it to his advantage."

Loki covered her hand with his other one and looked at her, smiling faintly. With Lydia, he felt like he had someone on his side, not alone, but he had felt this before, and in the end, it had been just a deception.

"How did you know... about my mother?"

Shit. She knew that question was coming. The horrible put-down Brad had said to Loki, she was not supposed to understand what it was referred to.

Lydia widened her eyes, withdrew her hand from Loki's, clutching it with the other and lowering her gaze.

"When I thought you were dead, I felt very guilty and... well, you could say I missed you... I wanted to see you, and the only thing I had of yours was the file," her cheeks colored slightly red, and if she had raised her gaze, she would have seen the same embarrassed expression on Loki's face, "I know it was a terrible invasion of your privacy... I’m sorry about that" she timidly raised her eyes towards him.

"It's okay" Loki shook his head, "in fact, maybe I'm glad... that you've seen the real me."

"There's no real you, Loki. There's only you, here and now. Ignore Brad, please, he's just an asshole, one who looks through the keyhole, sees brown, and thinks it's chocolate when it's just shit."

He laughed, nodding.

"By the way, any news? How's Mobius?"

"He's okay, for now... I think," Loki swallowed, "as for Brad, he confessed to knowing where Sylvie is."

Lydia clenched her jaw, nodding.

"We need her, Lydia. When I was in the future, I saw the TVA collapsing, and she was there. She must know something" he leaned towards her.

"I didn't say anything" she vaguely said, keeping her gaze low.

"I know you didn't exactly start off on the right foot, you two, but there's no room for likes or dislikes here."

"Where is she?" Lydia looked up at him.

"In a McDonald's in Oklahoma, on Earth," Loki paused for a moment, "Do you want to come?"

"I don't think I'd be very useful" Lydia shook her head, "but I have a request."

"Anything."

They looked at each other for a second that seemed endless and yet too short.

"A milkshake" she said after a moment, "strawberry flavored."

"I think I can do that."

---

But when Loki appeared in the control room upon later that day, he didn't have any disgustingly sweet strawberry milkshake; instead, he brought something much more indigestible for Lydia. Sylvie.

Guys, thanks a lot for the support you've shown me, again feel free to leave a heart, a comment or to reblog, this really helps a lot. I had reached a point were I thought this ff was completed. I changed my mind and hopefully we'll have an happy ending. Actually, I've really no idea how it'll end. I'm but an humble narrator of other's adventures.

#fanfic #loki series #loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki x oc #loki season 2 #loki x reader images #loki x you #loki x y/n #tva!loki #tva!lokixreader #tva!lokixoc #tom hiddleston

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fruitsofhell · 7 months

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I'm actually lowkey embarrassed that dissidia post got the attention that it did cause it's easily like, the lowest intellectual effort post I've ever made dbjdjf, so here's the follow up unhinged rant going over what I love about Kuja in Dissidia Duodecim.

Like I was saying, his writing in Duodecim is AMAZING, like everytime I think about it it blows my socks off. It would be so easy if just the whole game he was the Kuja he was during the plot of FF9, shallow, flamboyant, and callous, but they decided to pick up with his arc from the ending! Which is what I like to see in a spinoff like this, not just a rehash of old stuff but a continuation, a reiteration. And doing that also shows great grasp of what his character's about. Dissidia pulls from every mainline Final Fantasy game and isn't shy of the fact that not every game has the most complex villain. I often see Kuja too considered to be just a fun purely evil villain instead of someone with more meat on his narrative bones, which is insulting to me. Kuja isn't motivated by some deep darkness in his soul or a craving for violence and suffering like some other villains, all his actions were motivated by one thing, which was wanting to prove to his creator that he could create his own purpose and worth. It just happens that because he's insane, his methods to this is mass-murder and regicide. He loved life, and Gaian culture, and having a purpose, which is why he has those two massive changes of heart by the end, and is left feeling empty. The life he loved is ending, he scarred the planet that he loved, and the entire narrative he built for himself was null, its just over for him.

And that's where Dissidia picks up, because it understands that Kuja is not a being of darkness nor much of a sadist, he's just a guy who loved theatrics but had that beaten out of him by existential dread and now doesn't want to live anymore. And the only thing that would've given him any reason to live after his defeat, his brother - who was with him till the end and likely the only person from his world who doesn't want to kill him anymore - HAD HIS FUCKING MEMORIES ERASED. So what does Kuja do? He follows Zidane around and tries to help him, because like, literally he's just that grateful to him. Like??? That part's really important to me, cause it would be really easy to assume Kuja was bitter during his defeat, given his actions and apparent shallowness. But this game is SMARTER than that, and it understands that Kuja wasn't angry anymore, he was just empty and still deeply nihilistic. But actually given an opportunity to try again, he sticks to Zidane. Despite there no longer being an external incentive, AND ACTUALLY DESPITE FORCES WORKING AGAINST HIM. Like Kuja was placed on the Chaos side, surrounded by a sea of fellow villains who could produce all the bravado and destruction he used to enjoy, but he was so genuinely disillusioned with that afterwards, he goes out of his way to do right. Despite threat of annihilation by his peers and heroes he was trying to help! LIKE THE GAME GETS THAT HE ISNT JUST EVIL????? IT GETS THAT HE ISN'T JUST A SHALLOW SADIST????? It's fucking heaven-sent.

OH MAN AND THEN HIS INTERACTIONS BEYOND JUST ZIDANE! That interaction he has with Cloud is one of my favorite things ever, it's just fucking rich with characterization for him. And then you have him freeing Terra from her spell because, can you believe it guys, he felt honest to god sympathy and compassion!! Insanity!! And then that leads to his relationship with Kefka which is immaculate! Everything about their relationship helps reiterate Kuja's helplessness as a character and villain, and just makes me fucking DESPISE Kefka. But in the fun intentional way. He's such an abusive, manipulative asshole to him, and it stings like hell to see Kuja once again end up as someone else's pawn BECAUSE HE WAS WILLING TO SPARE ANOTHER FROM THAT FATE. Like it's horrible for him, but it deepens his redemption.

Ok, and last thing is his VOICE!!!!! JD CULLUM!!! JD Cullum, I owe you my life, your Kuja is so delightful! It's just perfect. It has this androgynous softness to it, he switches between the theatrical and honest lines perfectly, and he sounds annoying!! That part is so important to me, if Kuja had a generic sexy villain man voice I'd be so disappointed, but like have you heard him in NT? I don't know why he sounds so happy in that game (I think Zidane has his memories in that one...) but you can hear his stupid little smile behind some of those passive-aggressive one-liners, it's the best! I have Dissidia Duodecim emulated on my PC just for Kuja's lines.

Final Fantasy 9 is criminally underloved by Square, and Kuja as beloved as he is is so often misunderstood and mischaracterized by fans. Dissidia being the only other piece of official media he has a role in and getting it THIS RIGHT brings a tear to my eye. The game in general is just really above average for a silly crossover fighting game, I can't speak for the writing of every character, but I know my Sephiroth friend has moments from that game that give them psychic damage (/positive). And for me, the Kuja Guy, it gives me plenty as well. But also some negative psychic damage cause why tf does he look like that.

#kuja #final fantasy ix #ffix #dissidia final fantasy #dissidia #shut the heck up #kujie #ff9 #babe its 8pm time for heck to ramble about something random #i lov e kuja so much its unreal #i have never been a kinning type of person and i actually find the idea deeply embarassing-#-but i kin kuja. my love for him is thatstrong. stronger than the cringe.#and like between proshippers and bad takes on him its hard being a kuja stan/kinnie in these parts #but dissidia has my back its the only ff fanfiction ill ever need #tag talking

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ahsokaismyqueen · 1 year

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Hi! Could you use the prompts 1 and 96 for Javier Peña? Thank you!!! ❤️❤️

This is so, so late it’s not even funny, but here you go!

Warnings - Language, Smut, 18+, Unprotected Sex, Female Reader

Prompts: “Bend over, I’m not kidding.” & “If you interrupt me one more time, I swear to God.”

Okay, you knew that it was immature. After all, you were supposed to be a grown ass adult. Not only that, but you were at your place of work. Even if it was way past midnight, and no one else was here, you knew you should still be acting professionally.

But God, it was so easy for you to rile up Javier Peña you couldn’t pass up the opportunity that was presented before you.

You weren’t sure why every bit of your personality seemed to wear on Javi, but if he was going to be a dick to you, you felt you had every right to be a dick right back. Little did he know that you had spent years perfecting the art of being an asshole with every man in your life. While most people would consider Javier a rather put together person who rarely let his emotions get the best of him, you knew just how to make him do that.

Sending another crumpled up sheet of paper his way, you grinned when it landed right on top of his head and bounced off. Your eyes watched Javi’s form, your smile widening as you noticed the tensing of his muscles and the clenched fists. Even though every bit of his posture screamed annoyed, he didn’t speak to you, and after a few seconds, returned to his paperwork. He was trying so hard it was almost cute.

That meant you’d have to try harder.

This time, instead of hitting him with one paper wad, you decided that four might do the trick. It did get more of a reaction. His pen must have been close to breaking with how hard he was gripping it. You were also pretty sure that you heard the distinct sound of several spanish words muttered under his breath. “Did you say something?” You asked, smirking at him from across your own desk.

“No,” he grunted, avoiding your gaze as he began writing once more.

Okay, you had to admit, you were a little impressed at this point. You had underestimated how much he didn’t want to talk to you. Once again, you would have to be even more annoying.

Was a spitball immature? Yes, but watching Javier jump up like he had gotten shocked was more than worth it. Finally, the cracks began to appear. He wiped it off his arm a bit more violently than was necessary, his gaze narrowed as he focused on you. “If you interrupt me one more time, so help me God -”

You leaned across your desk, a challenge in your eyes as you met his gaze. “You’ll what? I’d love to know.” You told him, one of your eyebrows lifting.

He didn’t say anything, and you could see the fight in his eyes. God how you loved riling him up to see him like this, so uncoiled and angry. Bending every ounce of control he had until he was ready to snap at the smallest thing. Of course he wasn’t there yet. You smirked at him, leaning back against your chair once more and propping your legs up on the corner of your desk. “That’s what I thought.”

That did it.

“What the hell is your problem?!” Javier shoved his chair back so hard against the wall behind him you were surprised it didn’t break as he stormed over to your side of the room.

“What the hell is my problem?” You repeated in disbelief. “How about you fucking up my mission? Did you ever think that might be my problem?”

Javier let out a laugh that had no humor in it whatsoever. “Fucking up your mission? You’ve gotta be kidding me.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I almost had him!” You yelled, betraying how pissed off you actually were.

Javier grabbed your legs from where they had been propped up on your desk and, with a sharp tug, pulled you to him, his hands landing on the arm rests to keep you from barrelling into him. “You almost had a bullet wound to the head.” He said, his voice low and dangerous as he looked down at you in the cage of his arms. “I saved your ass, princesa. You’d do well to remember that.”

Rage swirling in your stomach, you stood up, pleased when he backed off enough to let you do so. “You saved nothing. I knew what I was doing, and if you had waited two seconds -”

“You would be dead!” His hand slammed on your desk beside you, and the sudden noise made you jump. “And I don’t want that shit on my conscience.”

Of course. Trying to save you didn’t actually have anything to do with saving you. He just didn’t want to feel bad about it if something did happen to you. He couldn’t care less about you. Not that you cared about him either. “Maybe next time send Steve with me. That way you won’t have to worry about feeling bad if something happens to me.” You hissed, shoving on his chest and pushing him out of the way, not able to stand another second of looking at his stupid face.

If you hadn’t been so focused on getting away from him, he never would have been able to do it, but he was. He grabbed a hold of your wrist, tugging you hard enough to spin you into his body, your back to his chest. Before you could do anything other than let out a surprised grunt, he was whispering in your ear. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Your first instinct was to pull away. He had a loose grip on you, and it would be easy to get out of his hold if you wanted to, but the truth was, you wanted to know what he meant. “It’s sure as hell what it sounded like.” You said, your voice sounding much more breathy than you would have liked.

“You think it fucking matters who it would happen with if you got hurt?” He said, and you hated the way it made shivers roll through your body. “I’m not going to let you get yourself killed trying to prove yourself to a bunch pieces of shit -”

Heat flooded your cheeks as he saw right through you. “I’m not trying to prove myself -” You started to say, your voice weaker than you would like.

“Oh? Then what is it? You like the attention? Making sure Carillo’s watching your every move and keeping his eyes on you?” Javier asked, his hips pressing you harder into the side of your desk.

But you didn’t even have time to complain about that as his words repeated in your mind. What the fuck did Carillo have to do with any of this? But then it hit you like a gunshot. The way that Javier would always get super pissy and quiet after every mission the two of you pulled with Carillo. How he would always make sure you were in eyesight when he was flirting with another girl while he was at the bar with you. Not to mention when he would ignore you for hours at a time when you couldn’t figure out what the hell you had done this time to piss him off.

All of the sudden, it all made sense. “Are you fucking jealous, Javi?” You asked, a breathless chuckle of disbelief leaving your lips as you felt him tense up behind you.

“What the hell would I be jealous for?” Javier hissed, his pause before answering a little too long.

Oh God this was too good. The ammunition you had in your hand right now. You had been so pissed that he had been able to see right through you, but now you were seeing right through him to his jealousy. Not that you had ever once had any sort of feeling for Carillo, but if you could use Javi’s jealousy to piss him off a little more . . . Why not? “You’re right. What would you possibly be jealous for?” You asked, your voice sickly sweet. “I mean other than his big dick. I’m sure it could fill me up better than any I’ve ever had -”

You were cut off with a gasp when Javi let himself fully press into you. “You think so princesa?”

Every inch of him was against your body, and it would have been impossible not to notice the long and thick hardness against your back. For the first time you found yourself speechless in front of Javier. Because while you had always found Javi attractive, you had never imagined how delicious he would feel.

“Why don’t you bend over and find out?” He murmured, his voice low and rough in your ear.

Your whole body froze at his words. You hadn’t expected that to come out of his mouth. Up until this moment you hadn’t had any clue Javi was even attracted to you, much less wanted to do anything like that. You, on the other hand, couldn’t deny that you had thought about it. After all, you weren’t blind to how he looked, and you couldn’t deny that you had dreamed about him doing something similar to what he was proposing once or twice. A dream was different to reality though, and you knew there would be no going back.

“Say the word hermosa. Say it, and I’ll leave you alone.” Javier whispered, and he let go of the arm you had forgotten he had been holding, resting his large hands on your hips instead.

Your voice was a little more breathless than you would have liked when you answered. “And if I don’t want you to?” You asked, a small, tingling, spark erupting in your belly as his hands slid around your front, messing with the button of your jeans.

“I’m not going to be gentle.” Javier warned, though his lips seemed to be in contrast to his words as they glided down the skin of your neck, sending another shiver of anticipation down your spine.

Was this a good idea? Not at all. You and Javi got on each other’s last nerve a good portion of the time, and there was no doubt your relationship with each other was already complicated enough without the added sex. Did you want to stop? Nope. After all, who knows? Maybe fucking the fire out of each other would help release some of the constant tension between the two of you. “I’d be disappointed if you were.” You replied, knowing what to say to tease him over the edge. “I’m sure Carillo wouldn’t be.”

Your words had the desired effect. “Bend over.”

You raised your eyebrows, curious as to where this might be going. “I don’t know - This desk is not comfortable to sit at much less-”

One of Javier’s hands slipped into your hair, tugging it back and forcing you to tilt your head until it was resting against his shoulder. “Bend over. I’m not kidding.” He whispered in your ear.

It shouldn’t have turned you on. The fact that it did surely meant that you had countless issues, but God if you didn’t feel soaked at the authority in his voice and the brush of his facial hair against your cheek. It triggered something in you, something you weren’t sure you knew existed, and you found yourself leaning forward and over the desk until your upper half was rested against it.

“So you can follow orders.” Javier said, one of his hands sliding from your hip to rest on the small of your back, making sure you stayed down. “Good to know.”

His words made you want to stand up again to spite him, but as his second hand slipped around to your front and slid into your jeans, you found yourself biting your tongue. Even more so when his fingers rubbed against you outside of your underwear.

He let out a chorus of curse words in Spanish when he felt how wet his words and actions had made you. “Is this what pissing me off does to you? Is that why you do it all the damn time?” He asked, pressing his fingers hard against your wetness.

You didn’t want to respond to that. You didn’t want to tell him about the rush of adrenaline you felt every time the two of you got into a screaming match. How you loved when you were in each other’s faces, angry for doing something stupid that could have got the other hurt. You didn’t want to tell him the amount of times that you had gone home after that and rubbed one out thinking about a scenario very similar to this one.

Instead, you pushed back against him, wiggling your hips and smirking as you felt the hard outline against you that showed you weren’t the only one turned on by your fighting. “I could ask you the same question.”

It was clear that Javier didn’t want to answer the question either. He pulled his hand away from you, and you leaned back as he stripped you of your pants and underwear so fast it almost hurt. Before you could even say a word of protest, Javi had slipped two fingers inside of you, and your words turned into a moan at the pleasure, your hands clenched into fists where they were resting on top of the desk.

“Fuck, Javi,” You gasped out when he curled those fingers inside of you, hitting a spot that made you see stars.

Still, he said nothing, instead he added a third finger so abruptly you almost shot off the top of the desk. His hand on your back pinned you in place, but you felt the warmth of his chest against you as he leaned down, his lips kissing along the side of your neck.

You had to admit that it felt good, the tender touch of his lips, the thrusting of his fingers that filled you up almost as nicely as you imagined his cock was going to. You found yourself grinding against him, moving to the rhythm he set without any sense of shame. How could you when the friction he was building up inside of you felt like a coil rising, ready to explode? You didn’t even think about it when he slipped those fingers into your mouth, lathering his fingers with your tongue and moaning at the taste of yourself there.

As soon as you did, you felt a shuffling behind you, and then Javi kicked your feet further apart. Before his actions had even caught up with you, you let out a scream around his fingers as Javi slid inside of you with one smooth motion.

Thank God you were soaked. There was no doubt in your mind that Javi was the biggest you had ever had, and you couldn’t deny for a moment there was some pain in the stretch. That pain soon gave way to a blinding pleasure, causing you to let out a whimper as his fingers left your mouth to squeeze and play with your nipple under your shirt. “Shhh, princesa . . .” Javi murmured in your ear. “Unless you want someone to hear how good I’m taking you.”

At the image his words conjured in your head, you felt yourself clench around him, causing him to let out a hiss. You had to admit imagining someone watching as you took Javi’s cock stirred up some feelings inside of you that you didn’t even know that you had. You pushed that aside for the moment though, knowing you didn’t have time to unpack that, not when Javi was thrusting into you at a brutal pace, sending heat throughout your body, creating more and more tension low in your belly.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Javi said after a hard thrust made you whimper. “Someone watching? Fuck.” He groaned out as his words sent another pulse through you.

Now his hips were slamming into you, and there was no doubt there would be bruises on your skin from how hard you were hitting the desk in the morning, but you didn’t care. The pain was in the background when compared to the pleasure of his cock sliding in and out of you so hard you felt tears of pleasure coming to your eyes.

“I asked you a question, princesa.” Javi said, and you gasped as he squeezed your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, sending a spark from your breast down to your center.

“Fuck, yes,” You admitted, rubbing your ass back against him in an attempt to get to that orgasm that was dangling at the edge, just waiting to be released. “I wouldn’t care who was watching as long as you kept fucking me.”

Your words had an effect on him, that much was clear. That hand that had been at your breast traveled down your body, sending chills down your arms, and slipping between your thighs once more to rub at the bundle of nerves there. You were grabbing hard at the desk, but the next second Javi’s free arm wrapped around your waist, lifting your feet off the floor as he gave a powerful thrust inside of you, reaching a spot inside of you that no one else had ever reached.

Various objects tumbled to the ground from the desk, crashing on the ground and thankfully somewhat muffling your loud shout of his name as you toppled over that cliff, feeling like you were vibrating with pleasure as you clenched around him in pure bliss. You were so lost in ecstasy that you barely even noticed when Javi pulled your back up by your hair against his chest, biting down on the spot where your shoulder and neck met as he grunted his own release inside of you, continuing to thrust until you were filled and both sated.

His lips turned soft then, pressing a gentle kiss against the mark he had surely left on your body, sending shivers across your skin. You let out another whimper as his hand squeezed your breast once more before sliding back down your body. “Get your shit together.” He said, his voice breathless in your ear. “You’re coming back to my place. I’m not done with you yet.”

You were so screwed. In more ways than one.

#javier pena x reader #javier pena imagine #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña imagine

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padfootastic · 1 year

Text

Forever mine

(james/sirius; loose soulmate au; ruthless, protective sirius!!)

The first time Sirius meets his soulmate is when he’s dying in his arms.

The thought ‘I’ll end whoever touched you’ hit him with such dizzying force, he had to brace himself against the ground for a minute.

Sirius hadn’t ever been particularly aggressive, had tried hard to stay away from the murderhurtviolence running through his blood, but in that moment—in that moment, he imagined he was feeling what every single Black had for centuries before him and would continue to do so after.

It was supposed to be a simple errand--a beer run for Regulus who refused to get off his couch until he became one with the upholstery. It wasn't supposed to be like this, him kneeling on the ground, soaked in blood and rain, praying to a god he hadn't believed in three minutes ago

The man--and who would've thought of that huh?-- was tall. Not as tall as him, but certainly far, far larger. Ropes of muscle travelled the length of his well tanned arm; thick, toned thighs lying still on the pavement. For one, obnoxious second, Sirius wondered about the possibility of being picked up and twirled around before shutting that train of thought down real quick.

How utterly delusional, and he wasn't even the one bleeding out.

He was dressed in athletic wear--perhaps out for an evening jog?--and the fabric was molded to every crevice of his body, thanks to the rain. Before he'd passed out, Sirius had the opportunity, the honor, of seeing huge, brown eyes staring up at him with desperate pleading shining through them.

And that thought, that memory, was what got his blood boiling all over again.

How dare his soulmate lie here, bleeding, on the edge of death if the holes in his chest were anything to go by, and desperate and alone? If Sirius hadn’t been out for fucking alcohol, if Reg hadnt been a depressed, heartbroken parasite in his house, if that asshole Evan hadn't cheated on his baby brother--if, if, if.

His soulmate could've...would've been alone, dying, dead.

Sirius slowly unclenched his trembling fingers, letting go of the deathly cold fingers sticky with blood. His other hand was still wrapped around the man's--his soulmate's--back, helping him lean back against Sirius' chest. A sort of quiet, dangerous thrum filled his body, taking away all the restlessness from before. He didn't know what was about to happen next, how the man would pull through, how he would pull through. But he knew this: whoever did this would rue the day they were born.

He made two phone calls.

First, The ambulance--a man is dying, come as quick as possible, I dont know how long he has left.

Next, his father.

'Father.'

'Son.'

'I need you to find someone for me.'

And that was it. Sirius might've had his differences with his family, might've run away from them in multiple fits of pique, might've even been threatened to high heaven and back but at the end of the day he was still a Black and Blacks looked out for each other. Rule number one. As long as he had blood running through his veins--and perhaps even after that--there was nothing on Earth that could keep them away from each other.

John Doe.

That's what it said on the patient chart. John fucking Doe.

All those blood tests, all the evaluations, and what use was it for if they couldn't even conduct one measly identification?

Sirius resisted the urge to growl out loud; he wanted to throw something, wanted to scream the place down until something happened, but he barely controlled himself.

No. That wasn't the way to go about this.

Dammit, this soulmate business was quite annoying. He hadn't felt this many emotions in such a short span of time, with such intensity, for quite some time. Perhaps never. That's what made him so deadly as a businessman. Sirius had never once needed to raise his voice, or his hand, to get something done.

Which is what made his sudden penchant for violence so...jarring. He didn't know how to control it, couldn't keep the bloodlust from seeping into his thoughts. He had half a mind to check his reflection in a mirror--surely his eyes, usually a dark grey, would've turned red by now at the force of his impulses?

He shook his head at the ridiculous thought, wondering when he'd lost his mind.

(He knew when. It was the moment he heard the bang-bang-bang, the thump of someone falling onto the pavement. It was when he looked down and felt his own flesh ache in response to the holes left in his soulmate's body. It was the outpouring of years of emotions he hadn't even known he'd repressed)

"Mr...Black?" A hesitant voice brought him back from his memories, making him internally grateful for the distraction. He stood up to face the doctor looking at him with a weird look on his face. Sirius could see why--here he was, dressed in a half undone suit, blood soaking his satin shirt, probably dotted all across the rest of his body, and of course, the dirt stains on his knees. Not to mention, the rain had created an even bigger mess of him. The stares he was getting were quite understandable, really.

"That's me, yes."

"Er--the man you came with--are you quite sure you have no idea who he is?"

This time, Sirius didn't resist the rumbling of his voice as he ground out, "Like I told your receptionist, then a nurse, and finally the constable after that, I found him, just like this, on the pavement. Don’t make me repeat it again for the sake of your incompetence. Now, what is the status of his condition?"

The doctor cleared his throat, pulling at the knot on his tie. "Well, then, uh. Mr. Black, I'm afraid I can't disclose that information--patient confidentiality, I'm sure you understand." He let out a little laugh at that, as if this was all a big fucking joke, and turned away.

Like Sirius would let him leave.

In two quick strides, he'd reached the doctor's side, deftly pulling him into a corridor off the side, pushing him against the wall as soon as they were out of sight.

"Listen here, Doc," he sneered, pushing him back with his forearm against his chest, "That man in there? He's my soulmate." The doctor paled at the word, igniting dark satisfaction in him. Somewhere inside, deep down, Sirius knew he couldn't have known, but in that moment, it didn't matter. "So you can take your 'patient confidentiality' and shove it up your arse, got it?"

The man nodded so hard it was a wonder his head didn’t fall off to the ground.

“Un-Unconscious, sir. He’s been bleeding out for too long,” the doctor stuttered out finally, “We can’t guarantee any—”

Sirius pushed harder, cutting him off midway. “Finish that sentence and I’ll cut off your tongue and stuff it down your throat.” The clack of the man’s teeth shutting close filled him with more satisfaction than it probably should have. The silence, however, was too much of a relief for him to think about that just yet.

No guarantee, he says. He’ll show him ‘no guarantee’.

Sirius took a deep breath and stepped back, straightening his shirt as he did. He waited for the doctor to compose himself before lifting one hand to smoothen the wrinkles on his coat, ignoring the flinch. Clearing his throat, he said, “Doc. I hope you know who I am?”

No response except a wrinkled brow.

“Sirius Black, heir and CEO of Cassiopeia Industries,” he clarified and sure enough, the man went paler than what should’ve been humanly possible. Sirius’ smile was thin, dangerous. “Yes, I see you’ve heard of us. Good, I’m glad. It’ll make this much smoother then.”

He leaned in closer, close enough he could smell the sweat beading along the man’s neck, the sourness of his breath, could see the dilated pupils. “So you know what I can, and will, do to you if you can’t ‘guarantee’ my soulmate’s life, yes?”

He didn’t have to say much else then, not after the doctor’s vigorous nods and assurances.

There were other things to do, after all.

He was sitting on the uncomfortable plastic bench, leg tapping an annoying rhythm on the linoleum, when a pair of sleek, polished shoes entered his vision. Sirius released the breath he’d been holding in since the minute this evening started.

Father was here.

“Sirius.”

“Father,” he replied, standing up for their customary handshake. Not too firm, never too loose. Know your place in the world and be secure in that knowledge. Lessons he’d had drilled into his head since before he could speak.

(He wondered what his soulmate’s handshake would be like?)

“I’ve got the information you asked for, though I can’t wonder why you would need to get in touch with what seems like, on the surface, a common street thug,” Father said with his usual upturned lip. His eyebrows were slightly raised, which was about as much emotion as he allowed himself to show in public.

Sirius’ eyes were fixed on a point slightly to the left of his head, on the cream-coloured wall with years of misuse plastered across it in dark spots. “I was out for…an errand today—”

“That brother of yours still drinking his swill, I take it,” came the expected comment. He paid it no mind.

“And just outside the shop, this man…he was—shot. Four times. Seemed personal.” Sirius’ voice was cold, clinical, recounting with perfect clarity and none of the panic that seemed to be seeping into every inch of him.

“And you thought today was a nice day to become a good samaritan?” His father’s disdain for a good samaritan was clear in the tone of his voice. Sirius almost smiled at the familiarity of it. There had been many family dinners where he’d suffered through his fathers disgust for ‘a bunch of nosy do-gooders with neither a penny nor any dignity to their name, poking their limbs in where it’s not needed.’

“Not exactly, no,” Sirius stalled, knowing he wouldn’t be able to do so much longer. Already, he could see the impatience lining Orion Black’s countenance, the foot slowly tapping on the floor, expecting, no—demanding an answer. “It was my…soulmate. I could feel it. He’s in there right now—“ he tilted his head towards the OR “—and they don’t have ‘any guarantees’ supposedly,”

At any other time, Sirius would’ve been ashamed, no, horrified at the way his voice cracked at the end, wouldn’t have been able to look his father in the eye for a week afterwards but just like his patience had disappeared in the course of his evening, so had his shame, it seems.

But he couldn’t muster it this time. Not even when his father’s lip curled farther up at the vulgar display of emotion. He didn’t say anything, though, probably dredging up the last of his humanity to do so—merely put a hand into his coat and pulled out a plain black envelope.

“Do clean up, Sirius, this sort of behaviour is most unbecoming of you.” With one last parting shot, he left the envelope in Sirius’ hands and left, just as imperiously as he’d entered.

Sirius smoothed one hand over the soft planes of the mystery man’s cheeks, touch featherlight and ready to withdraw at a moment’s notice if needed.

He looked…peaceful, completely at odds with the prognosis clutched in Sirius’ other hand, like his heart wasn’t on the verge of giving up at any time. It was a cruel illusion, a painful distortion of reality, and yet, Sirius wanted it for as long as he could have it.

“How I’ve looked for you, darling,” he whispered, thumb running repetitive circles over the man’s cheek. “And now that I’ve found you…”

“Are we doomed to forever live like this?”

Perhaps if this was a movie, that would be the cue for his soulmate to wake up, to dramatically open his eyes and proclaim his love for Sirius; they’d take each other in their arms and never let go, savor the kind of pleasure that only the other half of your soul can give you.

But this wasn’t a movie, and Sirius was no hero.

He left soon after that, unable to look, helpless to do anything but.

It was in the car that he opened the envelope for the first time. It contained two things: a slip of paper with a name and address on it, and a photograph, black and white and grainy, like it was taken with a cheap instant camera.

He traced one finger over the smiling face, comparing it to the unnatural stillness of the man he’d just left behind, and clenched his jaw. Throwing the photo across the seat, he put the car in reverse and peeled out of the parking lot.

Tom Riddle didn’t know what was waiting for him.

“Who are you?” The harsh words were accompanied by a gun aimed straight at his head. Sirius couldn’t be less bothered, however. From the way the man’s eyes were dilated, unable to focus on one point, to his shaking hands that couldn’t even grasp the revolver properly, to the disarray of his jet black hair and clothes—it was safe to deduce that he was more of a danger to himself than anyone else. That coffee table off to the side, for example, looked particularly menacing if he knocked himself over it, which judging by the sway in his frame, he seemed quite likely to.

“You don’t need to know that, Mr. Riddle,” he replied in a calm, soothing voice. He looked down, adjusting his cufflinks as he spoke. “I’m here for one thing and you’re going to give it to me.”

“I don’t swing that way, honey,” Riddle slurred, making Sirius grimace in response. The man wasn’t…unfortunate looking but even if he hadn’t found his soulmate—and loved him on the spot—Riddle was not his type. His tastes tended to run a bit more discerning than drunkards in old, run-down motels who couldn’t even hold a firearm properly.

(Could James hold a gun, he thinks absently. He could teach him, if he wanted, would love to see the way his muscles move as he pressed down on the trigger—)

“And I’m sure mankind is glad for that,” he said dryly.

“You—” Riddle spluttered, stumbling forward, narrowly escaping the corner of the table (sadly). Sirius looked on in disgust, wondering how vermin like this could’ve even gotten near his wonderful, beautiful soulmate, close enough to not just hurt him but do so badly enough that he’s lying on his deathbed, waiting for divine intervention to save him.

“This man.” Sirius held up his phone, where a photo of the mystery man lying on the hospital bed, thankfully cleaned of all blood and grime, is looking out at them. “Who is he?”

“No clue, buddy,” Riddle tried to shrug but Sirius wasn’t having any of it. His patience was already at an all time low and now this clown’s shenanigans weren’t helping.

“So help me, God, if you don’t tell me right now who he is and why you shot him four fucking times—“ Sirius threatened, finally getting up from his not-so-comfortable perch on the windowsill. Riddle only shrugged again, taking a step back.

That’s it.

Sirius moved forward, quick enough to probably seem like a blur to Riddle’s drink-addled mind. In a single manoeuver, he had the man turned around and pushed against the wall, face smushed into the peeling paint. His hands were held in a bruising grip in one of Sirius’ and he gun was safely out of reach from where it had clattered on the floor. Judging by the lightness of it, it had never even been a threat.

“I’m running out of patience, honey,” he crooned. “I’m afraid I’m gonna have to get creative now.”

Saying that, he stepped back a little, just enough that he could pull Riddle’s index finger back, back, back until a loud crack and a sob filled the air.

Neither the cracks nor the sobs stopped for the rest of the night.

"More blood, Sirius?"

Sirius didn't respond, only continued dabbing at the stained blood on his shirt--his second of the day.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, boy!" His father's voice echoed sharply in the empty room. He hated being ignored; that's why Sirius did it, after all.

"Thanks for the help, Father, I really appreciate it," he said instead. Once he was satisfied that as many of the stains as possible had been removed, he moved onto his hands, lip curling at the dried flakes stuck under his nails. This was always the worst part about these things.

"And what of all this...soulmate business, then?"

"What about it?" Sirius looked up, then, meeting his father's eyes through the mirror, grey clashing against grey.

"Well, what're you going to do?" His father was neutral as ever, but Sirius knew him well enough to see the glint of curiosity in his calculating gaze.

"What anyone else does with their soulmate, I believe." The resounding sigh at his glib answer made him snicker into his fist. Sirius might be old and powerful enough to make the world tremble at his feet but there was a unique joy in upsetting his father's composure that never lost its charm.

"Sirius."

"Father." It was his turn to sigh this time as he finally turned around, taking out his handkerchief as he did. "Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to go in there, pray to a God neither you nor I believe in but hopefully he does, and sit by his bedside for as long as it takes. Everything else can wait."

"The business?"

"We have a board for a reason, incompetent as they might be on a good day," he fired back.

"Your brother withering away in your flat?"

"Nothing new there," Sirius scoffed. "Reg'll be right as rain in a few days. Then he'll be back on his usual cycle of finding another terrible partner, getting cheated on, and coming right back to nest on my lumpy couch."

"That thing really is terribly lumpy," Father muttered under his breath before straightening up with a firm nod. "Very well, then. I wish you the best of luck. Bring your young man around for lunch when he wakes up. I'm sure your Mother would like to examine him."

Sirius couldn't articulate, in that moment, how much it meant to him that his father said 'when' instead of 'if’ he wakes up. That was something he hadn't even considered so far, afraid he'd break at the slightest possibility that he could lose his soulmate just as he'd found him, didn't even want to put the thought out into the universe and here was his father, perhaps the most self-assured, confident man he knew, saying it casual-as-you-please.

He was still reeling from the comment when his father took his leave, getting the last word in as he did, per usual. "And try and get your brother with you, yes? Kreacher would be delighted to see his 'Young Master'."

It took three days for something to give.

Every single day, Sirius could be found either sitting in the uncomfortable chair beside his mate's bed, holding his hand, stroking his hair, rubbing his thumb against his hand. There was a...tenderness in him now, one he'd never thought himself capable of. He both loathed and admired it; loathed, because the one person who should be receiving it was unable to, admired because it was a wondrous feeling, this lightness in his chest, the innate urge to give, without expecting anything in return.

Sirius had been a career businessman, and casual criminal, since he came out of the womb. This was an entirely novel experience for him and he couldn't even enjoy it, for fuck's sake.

"Wake up, goddammit.” he burst out on the third day of no activity, of hearing the shallow, almost nonexistent breaths of his mystery man amplified by the machines hooked up to him. “I need you, you bastard.”

So focused was he on those wires and the beeping machines and the sterile fucking room that he almost missed it. He wouldn't ever have forgiven himself if he had.

"Prefer...darling...I think," a voice croaked. The most beautiful, wonderful sound in the world.

"What--" Sirius whispered in wonder, staring unblinkingly at the wide brown eyes looking back at him, exhausted and drooping and red-rimmed but open. Alive.

"You called me...darling..." The man repeated, less confident this time, a crease forming between his brows. "Or did I--?"

Sirius lurched forward, grabbing his face desperately with both of his, ready to do anything to get the frown off his face. "No, no, I did--that is, I called you that--darling--that was me. I did it."

He couldn't even be horrified at the uncharacteristic stuttering, unable to care about anything except the shy smile blooming on his soulmate's face, the warmth of it chasing away all the demons that had taken up residence in Sirius' head since that day.

"Oh," the man exhaled, biting his lip. Sirius leaned further in, entranced by the action.

"I'm--I'm James."

James.

Finally. A name. The most perfect name.

"James," Sirius breathed out, as if all the air had been punched out of his chest, leaving room only for jamesjamesjameshisoulmatejames. "I'm so happy to finally meet you."

"I can...tell," he replied, still a bit shy, unsure. Sirius wanted to wrap him in bubble wrap forever and hide him away from the world. He also wanted to entirely devour him at the same time. It was a confusing set of impulses. "I could hear...everything...when I was...y'kno." He made an adorable gesture with his fingers, index finger circling in the air to signify his little...hibernation period. Sirius hoped he could refer to it so casually one day, though he doubted it.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." James nodded. "Though--I didn't…get your...name?"

It was Sirius' turn to bite his lip now, not half as cute or sexy, he was sure, only conflicted. Would his soulmate be scared away? Would he even know who Sirius was? Did he want him to? "Sirius, uh--Sirius Black."

There was a beat of silence, fraught with tension (or perhaps Sirius was just projecting?) before James' broke out in a wide smile, completely eclipsing the brilliance of the previous one. He extended one shaky hand towards Sirius from under the covers.

"Hello, Sirius Black, it's very, very nice to finally meet you too."

As if in a daze, completely unable to believe this was happening to him, Sirius placed his hand in James', feeling tiny pinpricks of electricity racing up his arm and down his body in a flash of delicious warmth. He could see, judging by the tremble in James' frame, that he felt the same.

Their hands clasped (not too firm, never too loose) and Sirius knew everything would be just fine.

#james potter #sirius black #bambibelle #prongsfoot #listen dont judge the title im not good at them #might rework if/when i post on ao3 #(which i prolly will bc im too needy lol)#but this was! the livewrite!#hence the whole thing might seem a bit abrupt #bc i was writing in bits and pieces #so theres little continuity #but fanfiction is fun! so im trying to not be a perfectionist everywehere #so yah #hope u like it!#also i would say sorry for doing riddle so dirty #but theres just something so funny aboout making him such a loser ykno?#pen's writing

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