#Fully stared at the wall feeling deeply troubled

[serenhob]

I feel like we don't talk enough about the fact that Yin Wenjiao bit off her sons toe. Like you couldn't have found any other way of identifying him girl??? He literally has her letter that she wrote in her blood.

Actually maybe she was just super intense.

But it's still horrifying to imagine being XuanZheng and finding out the reason you have nine toes is because your mum bit one off when you were a baby 😭😭😭

Does it mean that she's immortal tho? Cause all these demons are always saying if they eat/drink Tripitakas blood they'll achieve immortality and I feel like biting off a body part would lead to her swallowing some blood.

Someone confirm or deny.

[artytaeh]

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

THEODORE NOTT— a popular slytherin, an introvert at heart, despite his reputation as a womanizer. theodore nott, who has a big, terrible communication problem.

with the pure terror of displaying his vulnerable emotions, theodore smokes cigarettes to force his emotions to disappear with the wind; bites his inner lip and cheek until his mouth bleeds, so no tears threaten to make way to his eyes.

when theodore nott cries, he stares blankly into the wall. he doesn't sob— sobbing would make him even weaker, more vulnerable, less capable and definitely useless, in his father's eyes.

silent tears are the epitome of theodore's sadness, because other than that, his sadness, stress and troubled thoughts are never known. hidden by a mask of stoic expressions.

theodore nott is 'stupid' smart. if he wasn't a slytherin at heart and soul, then he'd be a ravenclaw, or at least that's what the professors comment amongst them. theo enjoys reading, and would easily spend his afternoon on a silent, vacant corner of the castle, devouring a book in few hours.

he lies, saying that it's simply because knowledge is a good weapon. he'd be saying the truth, if theodore confesses that he reads this much, because whether be it fiction or not, he can escape his thoughts to fully concentrate on the book's contents.

theodore nott is knowledgeable, theodore nott is a good, straight-A's student. theodore nott is quick-witted; you wouldn't want to banter with him, because usually, he gets the last word with a victorious, cheeky smile— an insufferable cocky grin.

and yet, shamefully, theodore nott has no idea how to verbalize his feelings.

every good liar is like this, he'd argue. in exchange of spilling the most atrocious lies with a straight face and nonchalant tone, theodore finds it awfully hard to tell the truth.

ask him what's wrong— you can do that, sure. now, if theodore will answer you, that's another story. and to give you a genuine answer, if he doesn't snap? then an angel must have fallen down its altar.

then, if he can't verbalize or trust anyone, not even mattheo riddle or lorenzo berkshire on a good day— what does theodore nott do, to deal with his full mind and empty heart?

theodore nott destroys.

he destroys other living beings,

being the first one to join mattheo riddle, with a smile on his face, when his best friend snaps at the smallest hint of disrespect. throwing a (not really) deserved punch at a guy that honestly, if you ask him afterwards, theodore has no idea what he done wrong.

when lorenzo scolds mattheo for starting a fight and reprimands theodore for indulging it, the slytherin simply shrugs. he's "looking out for his bro", he says. that's only partially true, as much as he deeply cares for mattheo.

everytime that he starts fights, like a rabid dog. theodore doesn't really know when he stopped being il dolce ragazzo of his madre. when he became a dog that bites without thinking about barking first. "so much for claiming to be the logical one," — lorenzo muses.

... he destroys himself.

which would explain the concerning amount of muggle, wizarding, flavored, all shaped packs of cigarettes he owns. there isn't a brand that he didn't try, at least once— the more harmful, the better.

smoking until his lungs become as black as his heart, as his dark thoughts. smoking, until he drops dead with his worries. smoking, until theodore nott becomes a better man (something that he doubts he could do, for he was born a broken man— born from a couple that should have never crossed paths with each other).

consequently, damaging his hands. skin that becomes calloused and slightly scarred from the cigarettes. knuckles constantly bruised from throwing punches at gryffindors or smartass ravenclaws.

so, theodore nott starts believing that he's unlovable. that loving him— oh, that would be torture. pure masochism, that he wouldn't wish to anyone, not even the witch he dislikes or rolls his eyes at the most.

and that becomes a creeping fear of his. oh, theodore is terrified, when the thought of becoming like his father plagues his mind.

to think that he'd become such a disgusting man, the man who brought so much pain to his mother, that killed the only person who truly loved him.

what would his mother say, if she saw him like this?

would she be disappointed, would she be ashamed to even spare a look at him? would her beautiful porcelain face become a frown, would she walk away, disgusted?

theodore consumes three more cigarettes on that thought alone.

... or would she give him a sympathetic look, gazing at her dolce, bravo ragazzo with those tender eyes of hers? a shade of blue, that theodore was fortunate to inherit.

a sad smile makes its way to his lips. because now, even for a brief moment, theo is himself again. he's not a casanova slytherin, he's not the heir of the nott family. theodore nott is simply his mother's little boy, her teddy.

in honor of such bittersweet memories, theo drops his cigarette and doesn't smoke for at least 24 hours.

theo doesn't know how to deal with comfort. genuinely tender touches, fingertips grazing his skin so lightly—

of desperately needy, lustful touches, he knows. he knows them very well, from all those times he slept with a woman, ruined her for the next guy. from the times a slytherin girl gripped and pushed his hair, needing, begging more of his mouth on her; or when a gryffindor got so lost in pleasure that she left the mark of her nails on his back; when a hufflepuff senior clenched her fingers on his torso, hips and shoulders, screaming for more, deeper, faster; that time when he found a way to shut up a particularly insufferable ravenclaw know-it-all by fucking her mouth, and when he felt the back of her throat on him, the stubborn ravenclaw gripped, scratched, protested on his thighs.

of harsh, violent, cruel, merciless touches, everytime mr. nott decided that a disgusted, disappointed gaze wasn't enough to educate his son. when those knuckles adorned with rings curled into a fist, and theodore was beaten into discipline. all those times he started fights and consequently got hit by a punch or two, even though theodore is a good fighter, and makes sure that even if he does get hurt, the receiving end is in worse state, in need of more than one night in the infirmary wing.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

... but comforting, meant to soothe, gentle touches? oh, theo is terrified of them. rather than flinching away from a fist coming his way, theo looks like a scaredy cat when fingers come to brush his hair away from his face, with all the love and care of the world.

theo doesn't know those touches. to be fair, yes, he was acquainted with them once— but that was long, long ago, when his mother was still alive. a life ago, really, because sometimes theodore wonders if he's the same teddy he once was, under the protective but loving arms of his mother.

so at first, theo panics when you hug him, when you physically bring comfort to his broken, damaged heart.

but then?

then, after he gets a taste of how heavenly it feels to be held by someone he loves? then, theo embraces the fact that he is indeed a touch starved man. then, theo completely and shamelessly melts under your touch, relaxing in your embrace, wishing to never leave this safe haven.

( or maybe he does. a little voice on the back of his mind, menacingly suggesting that this safe haven, this loving harbor — you — might disappear into thin air by the cruel hands of his father, the same he did with his mother. )

but before his truly prodigious brain dares to overthink once again— your hands comb through his hair, brushing it back along with his worries, massaging the scalp and melting the troubled thoughts away. that's when theo closes his eyes. that's when he, finally, is in peace with himself.

and if you'd ask him; this is when and where theodore nott is the happiest. this is when theodore nott is teddy again.

౨ৎ these voices in my head screaming ♡ ͡

run now. i'm praying that they're human . . .

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— my motivation? it's a silly little drabble, about my favorite slytherin. theodore nott deserves love, seriously.

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[yawnderu]

Heisenberg's favourite position during sex?

I for sure know that he fucks raw

Reverse cowgirl.

Heisenberg is a filthy, disgusting dog with a bone, never once willing to let go of you, blown pupils staring at the way his cock disappears into your sopping cunt, the squelching sounds mixing in with his hard breathing, creating a lewd melody the walls of his dirty room have never heard.

His rough, calloused hands curl around the curve of your waist, holding you still as his hips start to thrust up, your whiny moans doing nothing but enabling his perversion— pale grey eyes fully focused on the way the fat of your ass jiggles, the sensation of your nails digging into his supple, hairy thighs making him choke down a moan, not wanting you to hear just how pathetic he can be, how desperate and needy, his fingers digging deeply into your soft skin, a sheer contrast of his dirty, scarred self.

He pulls you down on his dick harder, his hips snapping up with nothing but raw desire, any sort of rhythm long abandoned, only leaving place for animalistic instincts, ramming every single inch of his thick cock into you as deep as possible, the feeling of your sopping walls pulsating and pulling him in deeper only making the last bit of decorum he had left leave his body, holding you down as ropes of thick, hot cum shoot into your needy womb, filling you up with what he knows will turn into trouble soon.

[octoberautumnbox]

Discordant Waltz: Juicy Juicy

Oh Sieun (Former IZ*ONE/Soloist Jo Yuri) & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: smut, public sex, blood, clothed sex, hair pulling, blowjob, cowgirl, friends with benefits, fuck buddy

Word count: 1.9k

| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 (coming soon) |

a/n: i just really wanted to put this out, i think atp I can't write consistently like I used to before all this shit happened. we'll just see how it goes from now on but i swear i still have a bunch of fics i wanna write :))))

bathroom 3rd

sieun fckbd, 2:43 pm

pushy. omw

You, 2:43 pm

The warm, unconditioned air hit you like a brick wall when you first stepped out of the classroom, but with the cool breeze and shade, you really didn't mind any further.

You head for the rendezvous lazily, though it nags at you why she would want to see you during school hours. 

Sieun was leaning against the empty bulletin board between the male and female restrooms when you found her. She was ethereal and fleeting, like a poster from a magazine you weren’t supposed to buy. 

There’s no response from her as you took your careful steps towards her. She looked worried and lost in thought, like something shook her on a deeply personal level. Not that it mattered to you; neither of you were supposed to care about each other in that way.

"Can I help you?" She jumps and stares wide-eyed at you, evidently so surprised that she didn't even see you coming. Apologetically, you push up her chin and force eye contact with her, which pulls her back down to Earth.

"Great," she sighs, relieved, "you're here. Come on!" 

You suddenly find yourself getting dragged by the collar into the women's restroom and shoved into one of the stalls. You're pushed and forced to sit down onto the toilet seat, and your fuckbuddy promptly gets into her own position, straddling you and wrapping her arms around your neck.

This isn't anything new, and by now you know what she's asking for. Place both hands on her ass, feel up her cheeks through the baggy PE pants she loves wearing for some reason. She dives in and captures your lips with hers, and savoring the feeling of your tongues on each other and swapping spit. 

Carelessly you reach under her pants garters and under the waistband of her boxers, fully relishing how her smooth skin and plump ass feels in your hands. She breathes heavily under your touch, and moans spill from her lips with every squeeze. 

"Sorry about the boxers by the way," she whispers, breaking the kiss. "I didn't plan on this." 

You take her lips again, feeling her breath growing less and less stable against yours. "It's fine, baby. You okay?"

She tries to act tough with her retort, but her blushing gives her away. "Less talk, more getting your cock hard enough for me to choke on." 

You estimate a solid minute of making out and groping her ass while she grinds on your clothed dick, making sure she feels you getting harder for her.

Once she's had her fun, she gets up and hurriedly unzips your pants. Meanwhile you work on stripping her of her own pants, yanking off her boxers at the same time. Her wet, pink pussy comes into view, and you place a thumb on her clit to rub while she works hard trying to strip you herself. Noticing she's fumbling and having trouble with your belt, you unbuckle it for her and get up, so she makes quick work of pulling everything off of you. You sit back down onto the toilet and feel the cold ceramic seat on your thighs.

“Thank you. Do you have any other questions?” Sieun asks, but her interest lies elsewhere. She eyes your stiffening cock hungrily while licking her lips. 

Without waiting for an answer, she squats down between your legs and places the tip of her tongue right on the slit of your dick, giving it tiny licks. She allows her saliva to run down from her tongue, watching you watch her start to pleasure you. 

She takes your cock in her hand and starts to jerk you off in long and slow strokes. Her lips hover over your tip, still letting her saliva drip down, and you feel her handjob getting slicker. Between the feeling of her spit coating your cock and the pure visual of her heavenly face in front of you, you grip the toilet seat to try and delay your orgasm just a bit longer.

Satisfied with her work and how your face contorted in pleasure to what she’s doing, Sieun begins her monumental task of taking you into her mouth. She kisses your tip before taking your head between her plump lips. She gives it a little suck before withdrawing, licking her lips, and going back for more. You notice her free right hand working between her legs and tweaking her clit, and just then she moans a small “mmh” onto your head as she goes deeper with her blowjob to half your shaft. 

Unfortunately for her (or perhaps fortunately, you know how sick she is in the head), just half your shaft reaches to the back of her mouth. The sensation of her tongue tracing the veins around your dick sends a shock wave of pleasure up your spine, causing you to reach out and grip a handful of her hair. She looks up at you, expectant and pleading, as you watch her insert two fingers into her dripping pussy. 

Instead of forcing your cock into her throat though, you pull her head away by her hair with a jerk. She gasps at the sudden rough treatment, but displays her submission by panting with her tongue out like a dog. She hasn’t stopped fingering herself, and this lets you know what she wants next. 

Hand still tangled in her hair, you pull her up to your eye level. Take her onto your lap and position your cock onto her wet folds, and earn a groan from her as she relaxes onto you. 

Sieun reaches under her jacket and, you guess, into her bra before pulling out a condom. Seeing you surprised, she smirks at you and rips open the packaging with her teeth.

"You always know how to get me riled up."

She expertly rolls the rubber onto your throbbing cock. She holds your chin up the way you did with her earlier, and she makes you watch as she lets a line of her spit fall from her tongue to her open palm. Finally she rubs it all over your cock, giving it a few pumps while making sure it's lubricated and ready for her.

You grab her by the hips, savoring how her smooth skin feels on your hands, and pull her back onto your cock. She gives in and, carefully but not too much so, she lowers herself onto your dick. She shuts her eyes as you feel yourself sliding into her, first the head, then the shaft, and even more after that, all the while you guide her down by her hips. 

"Never fucking gets old, you stretch me out so well…" Her breathy and quiet voice tells you she's close. She bites her lip and tries to make eye contact with you again. In the split second that you do, you're reminded that Oh Sieun is gorgeous in her own right, and that you're lucky you get to have her like this at all. You admire her big brown eyes, how they shut as she lowers herself onto you, how her lips part as she lets out a deep sigh.

Sieun is dazed; you know she's getting even hornier with you. She's straining herself to keep quiet, knowing that just one mistimed yelp might be all it takes for someone to get curious, check out the bathroom, and catch the two of you red-handed. Despite that, she soldiers on, lifting herself up before letting herself drop again. As she does, you feel her velvet walls clench tighter around you, and you resolve to place your hand over her mouth. Getting the message, she goes for another bounce on your cock, more careful than anything to keep the sound of her skin on yours to a minimum. You hold back yourself, trying to match her control despite the mind-melting pleasure you get from her tight, needy pussy.

You watch as she lifts herself up again. You take a deep breath into your lungs, knowing that you can't hold back much longer: you need her just as much as she needs you. Hands firm on her mouth and hip, her head lolls back as she prepares to take all of you into her again. 

She crashes down onto you like a meteor, sending waves of pleasure throughout both your bodies. With your common sense leaving you, you thrust up into her, reaching a depth she's never experienced in this life until now. She jerks her head in surprise to face you, and almost immediately her eyes point up and then roll to the back of her head. She groans against your palm before developing into a full-blown scream you both were lucky to have muffled. Her cunt squeezes your throbbing cock as it convulses through her orgasm, squirting her cum all over your crotch and waist. 

Don't relent, she loves it when you don't. You thrust up into her again, forcing more of your cock into her heat and vying for your own release. Sieun struggles to scream louder into your hand as she loses her mind to the pleasure.

You thrust harder up into her, matching how tight she's clamping down on you. Inadvertently she makes up for it with how much of her love juice is spraying onto your crotch and lap. Snake a hand across her back and onto her shoulder, and with your other hand on her mouth, pull her down.

Her teeth find your palm an easy target, biting down and drawing blood. She could do nothing else, completely victim to the immense orgasm you were subjecting her to. Fight down your pain; just a bit more. 

It arrives when you least expect it to, and you're sure deep down inside whatever's left of Sieun is thanking whatever god she believes in that you're about to let her go. Your dick throbs with each spurt of cum you shoot into the rubber, unintentionally also hitting her good spots even more. She leaks more and more of her juices onto your lap, and as you look up you find she's also started to cry. You almost feel sorry for her, if not for how unbelievably and blissfully elated she seems to be getting fucked out of her mind. Your blood shows itself, from your palm and dripping onto Sieun's jacket. 

Both your climaxes end gradually, bringing you down from the highest of highs. Your arms fall exhaustedly to your sides and you lose all feeling in them. Sieun collapses face down on top of you, limp and out of breath, but still finds the tiniest bit of strength to nuzzle into your neck. Extend your last greatest effort, swing your arm over the small of her back and hug her. 

“You good?” Your tone is casual, like she didn't just have the orgasm of her life. She weakly nods into your neck and puts a kiss right on your pulse.

~~~

You find yourself walking back to the classroom, unaware of how much time has passed. The sun hides behind a fair bit of cloud cover, and the breeze seems nippier than you remember. 

Sieun is long gone, off to wherever she was before. Hopefully, nobody notices her limp, nor the red stain on her jacket. Above all, you hope nobody questions the hand mark over her mouth. 

But deep inside, you kind of do. She wouldn't be able to say it, but she'll know it's because she gave herself to a man that makes her feel complete.

~~~

| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 (coming soon) |

a/n: this was something i wanted to write for a long time, im really glad i got to do something like this now :) thanks for reading!

[anaconamor]

you know what i don’t see often here? SHOWER SEX WITH JUDE 🫠😩 but let’s add a twist with best friend! jude 🫣

this is making me feel 😵‍💫😵‍💫 maybe after a match and he’s back in his hotel room and secretly brought up knowing the risks and consequences of it. maybe it gives even a small thrill and slightly turns him on even though you said “we’re watching movies and then i have to leave jude… you, well we, can get in trouble for this…”

maybe your intentions were innocent and just that, to lay together and watch movies. or maybe you felt the same heat rush he got as soon as you stepped foot into his room. the room becoming smaller by the second and tension raising every time you shifted in your spot and cleared your throat.

jude suddenly watched as you removed your coat and stood there with his jersey, putting your hair up into a messy bun. maybe it was the flush in your cheeks, or the way fluttered your lashes as you stood now watching him, the way you gulped deeply at the sight of him half naked.

you shouldn’t be staring… you shouldn’t feel the thrill and sudden tingles that we’re sent between your legs, now throbbing and aching at just a simple chiseled sight… jude noticed your sudden change in body language, as you shifted your weight one leg to another, your eyes roaming up and down as he stepped near the corner you were in.

you didn’t dare to look him in the eye, coughing as you had been caught staring and just shyly nodding when he spoke, voice husky and a hint of desire, “i’m going to go shower, pick a movie, okay darling?” you let out a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding in, your hand coming to your chest in attempt to calm the nerves and the way your heart beat faster.

and as much as you wanted to ignore the sexual feeling, you couldn’t, just like you couldn’t help falling for the brown eyed boy who had gotten into the shower. before you could realize what you were doing, your steps and body moved to the white door that was left slightly open, inviting you in. the mirror and glass steamed due to the hot water, your eyes fully on his back muscles that flexed as he washed his hair.

you knew you shouldn’t but as soon as you undressed, goosebumps quickly washed over your skin, tip toeing into the shower, and opening the door carefully, “couldn’t resist could you?” you heard him say, but all you could do is stare at his body and run your hands from his chest to his abs.

“no i couldn’t, guess it makes two of us, don’t you think?” you cocked your head to the side, your brow raising, but before you knew it, he stepped closer and kissed you hard, undoing your bun to quickly run his hands through your hair and tug on it to bring your face closer to his.

it wasn’t a sweet and soft kiss, it was messy and heated. you could feel his touch lingering everywhere, leaving traces as he scooted you and caged you against the cold white tiled wall. you let out a gasp at the sudden cold rush, and felt jude’s tongue enter your mouth in advantage.

he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his middle, the water continuing to run as you grabbed his face and kiss down his neck, “i need you so bad jude…” you pleaded, sucking softly on his neck behind his ear that released a small groan from his lips. “are you sure? this changes everything you know?” he said along your lips.

you nodded, he kissed you again, and then left a wet trail down to your neck, a small purple mark marking you as his, but you didn’t know that. you were tired of the teasing, eyes closing in delight as he kept edging you, “please jude. i want you-”

you gasped and swallowed hard as you felt his hot tip run along your folds and trace your clit, bitting your lip in anticipation, watching as the water continued to run along his face, curls draping his forehead with his lips open. “jesus,” jude shivered as he buried into you slowly, feeling your walls slowly stretch as he continued to thrust in.

your back arching, whimpering at his cock fully entering you. as he began to move you moaned his name, nails raking against his back as his hips found a movement that had you seeing stars immediately. you no longer could hear the water running, just skin clapping and his breathy moans and groans.

you felt the bubble of pleasure build into your stomach, or maybe it was his cock just that deep inside you. “you’re so tight, feel so good for me,” jude said, kissing you as your moans got a bit louder than they needed to. he couldn’t afford the two of you getting caught, but he also wanted to let everyone know how good he was making you feel.

“so big, it’s so big jude…” you hugged and clung tightly on his shoulders, feeling his muscle tense and move as he thrusted into you deeper and faster. “i know, but look how good you’re taking me, look how quick you adjusted to me, im gonna cum soon if you keep doing that,” he threw his head back and then attached his lips to your neck.

you clenched around him, beginning to shake as the pleasure became to much, the goosebumps returning as he kissed you again, “cum for me jude. c-c-cum inside me,” you struggled and begged to say as you fought your orgasm. “oh god, yes, i’ll cum for you y/n,” jude hissed, as ropes of his cum released inside you. your chin trembled in pleasure as you let go for him, hearing his shaky breaths and feeling his lashes flutter against your shoulder.

it was forbidden. you don’t have sex with your best friend. you can’t fall for them. you can’t kiss them. you can’t pretend you’re just friends. you were meant to have a close bond to spend time and share secrets. but for jude… you were willing to risk it all. you would break every single rule in the book as long as you got to call him yours.

[yatsurinamikaze]

Wager

(first) - (second) - (third) - (fourth) - (fifth) - (sixth) - (seventh) - (eight) - (ninth) - (tenth)

tw// shit show, cringe, word vomit, objectification, shitty writing, grammatical errors, curse words.

Oikawa Tooru x Reader, Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

Summary: They strike a bet. The Wager? You.

The day has been a rollercoaster of emotions, and as you sit on your bed, staring at your phone, you can’t help but replay the argument with Tooru over and over in your head. The confusion, the hurt—it’s all still so raw, and you don’t know how to process it. You’re tempted to isolate yourself, but then your phone buzzes. It’s Ushijima.

Ushijima: Wanna go for a walk?

You stare at his message. The idea of walking with him, just being in his presence, sounds far better than staying cooped up in your room.

You: Yeah, I can go for a walk.

Ushijima: I’ll be at your place in a few minutes.

You quickly grab a jacket and head outside, waiting at the end of your driveway. The two of you walk in silence at first, the rhythm of your footsteps matching as you make your way through the quiet streets. The cool evening air brushes against your skin, and you find yourself taking deep breaths, trying to let go of some of the tension that’s been building inside you.

Ushijima understands you seem troubled, he doesn’t press you for details, but his eyes are full of concern as he falls into step beside you.

After a few minutes, Ushijima speaks, his voice low and steady. “You don’t have to tell me everything, but I’m here if you want to talk about what happened.”

His offer is so gentle, so sincere, that it breaks through the walls you’ve been trying to put up. You take a deep breath, "I..It's okay, I..I will be okay. Thank you Toshi."

He nods, and speaks up again after a pause," There’s something else I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

You stop walking, turning to face him fully. “What is it?”

He takes a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with a seriousness that takes your breath away. “I like you, Y/N. I’ve grown to care for you deeply, and I would like to be with you, romantically.”

His confession is straightforward, just like him, and it hits you with a wave of warmth and confusion all at once. You’ve always known Ushijima to be honest, but hearing him say this—especially after the day you’ve had—leaves you feeling overwhelmed.

“Toshi… I don’t know what to say,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly. “Everything is so confusing right now.”

He nods, his expression soft and understanding. “I know. That’s why I’m not asking for an answer tonight. I just wanted you to know how I feel. Take your time. I’ll be here, no matter what you decide.”

You nod, “Thank you. I really appreciate you being honest with me.”

He gives you another gentle smile. “You’re important to me, Y/N. I want you to know that.”

Neither of you speaks for a while, but the lack of conversation isn’t uncomfortable. It’s as if you both understand that sometimes, words aren’t necessary.

The evening air is cool and crisp, the sky above dotted with stars as night fully takes hold. After a while, you feel a yawn coming on, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you. You try to stifle it, but it escapes, and Ushijima notices.

“You must be tired,” he says gently, his voice breaking through the stillness. “I should let you get some rest.”

You nod, offering him a small, grateful smile. “Yeah, I think I am. Thank you for the walk, Toshi. I really needed this.”

His eyes soften, and he gives you a nod in return. “Anytime, Y/N."

The two of you come to a stop outside your house, and you turn to face him one last time. “Goodnight, Toshi. And… thank you again. For everything.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replies, his voice steady and warm. “Rest well.”

You watch as he walks away, his tall figure gradually disappearing into the darkness. Only when you’re sure he’s gone do you turn and head inside, the quiet of your house amplifying the thoughts racing through your mind.

As you make your way to your room, the events of the day replay in your head like a broken record, the emotional rollercoaster leaving you drained and conflicted. You slip into bed, hoping that sleep will come quickly and offer some respite, but as soon as you close your eyes, the tug of war in your heart begins anew.

Tooru’s voice echoes in your mind, the way he looked at you when he said he was leaving for Argentina, the unspoken plea in his eyes as he asked you to make up your mind. It’s clear that he still cares for you, that he’s struggling just as much as you are. But then, there’s the memory of him wagering you away like a silly possession.

And then there’s Ushijima, with his quiet strength and unwavering honesty. His confession tonight was so unexpected, yet so sincere, and it’s left you reeling. You’ve always admired his steadiness, his ability to be there for you without demanding anything in return. But now, he’s laid his feelings bare, and you can’t help but feel the weight of his words pressing down on you, complicating everything even further.

As you lie there, staring up at the ceiling, the weight of everything presses down on you like a heavy blanket, suffocating and inescapable. You feel the tears welling up, but you’re too tired to cry, too drained to do anything but let the emotions wash over you like a tidal wave.

Eventually, the exhaustion takes hold, pulling you into a restless slumber. But even as sleep claims you, the tug of war in your heart continues, the unresolved emotions bleeding into your dreams, leaving you with no peace, no answers—only the aching uncertainty of what tomorrow will bring and who it’s going to be?

Masterlist

[farmerlarrry]

Orange Slices (Joel Miller x f!reader)

masterlist | read on ao3 | playlist

story summary: A story about finding companionship and love in the midst of chaos.

a/n: This is the first fanfic I'm publishing in almost 10 years and I'm new to the character x you/reader writing style, so if anything sounds odd or awkward, I deeply apologize. The story is mainly based on the game, however, I keep it pretty vague so if you like the show descriptions better, it should still work.

wc: 3734

if you want to be notified when I post new chapters, follow @farmerlarrrylibrary and put on notifications! If you'd rather be tagged, just let me know.

Chapter One

2013; Ten years since the CBI outbreak

The sunlight was trickling in through the cracks of the murky window of the old clothing store’s bathroom you barricaded yourself in last night; the rays dimly split across the subway-tiled walls. You lay still on your side, staring at the dense moss that covered the dark corners and the vines that weaved their way through the cracks in the tile. The morning was chilly, causing you to pull your long sleeve over your hands, balling the open ends in your fist to not allow any heat to escape. You close your eyes momentarily, not quite ready to face whatever today brings. For a few moments, you wanted to not have to face reality. Opening your eyes once again and taking in a deep breath of the cool spring air, you slowly rose to your feet, fully extending your arms above your head with your fingers intertwined, trying to straighten out the kink that has been in the middle of your back for the past few days. You wince as you lean from side to side.

You haven’t gotten a decent night’s sleep in weeks, and it was starting to take a toll on you mentally. You know you aren’t being as careful as you should— accidentally knocking into things when scavenging, tripping over your own feet, nodding off out in the open when you take a midday rest from walking. It was only a matter of time before one of these things got you into some kind of trouble, trouble that you might not be able to get out of unscathed. The thought of it makes you shudder.

The nightmare of this world has only gotten worse now that you’re on your own again. It had been quite some time since it had been like this, and it was easy to forget how dangerous and scary it was to be alone. The small community you’d been settled into for the past few years was attacked and overrun three weeks ago. By whom, you don’t know. FEDRA, the Fireflies, some other militia group—they're all the same now, and the number of these bloodthirsty groups seems to only increase as time goes on. They supposedly stand for different things, all against each other; however, the one thing that they all have in common is that they’re always out for blood. 

You were among the lucky few who had not been inside the broken-down apartment building when the attack happened. Even luckier, you knew the ins and outs of the surrounding area, so it wasn’t hard to escape the fight unnoticed. A small part of you still feels guilty for not trying to help; you knew of families inside who were just trying to survive—elderly and children. In the weeks following the attack, you tried not to think about it; you tried to focus on your own survival, but the thought always came to mind just as you were about to fall asleep, and deep down, you feel guilty for running. It’s fucked up that this is what the world has come to; it makes you angry. 

Taking a seat back on the cold floor and crossing your legs, you lay out the contents of your backpack. At the time of the attack, you were on your way back from doing a supply run. You had been helping two of the men out by going along to try and keep the small group afloat. Unfortunately, the immediate area around the apartment building had been picked out pretty well, so finding supplies became harder and harder as time went on, and it was hard to plan longer treks to find supplies since there were so few people who were able to offer protection. You were unable to find anything that day; all you had was what you left with: a revolver with three bullets, your gas mask and flashlight you took from a FEDRA soldier back in Denver, a fixed-blade knife that has become dull due to daily use, a torn map of Colorado, two decently sized canteens of water, and a few emergency ration bars that expired four years ago. You were now down to half a canteen of water and had two ration bars left, trying to stretch what you had left. Thankfully, a few days ago, you came across an orange tree. You picked all the ones you could reach, filling up the vacant space in your bag.

You grab one of the oranges from the pile you made; it’s just a little smaller than your palm and wasn’t quite ripe enough for peak enjoyment. You carefully begin peeling back the thick layer, creating a pile of peels on the dust-layered tile floor. Halving the orange, setting one half on your thigh, picking apart the other half in your hand, and popping one of the slices in your mouth. You squish it against the roof of your mouth with the force of your tongue, and the juices quickly fill your mouth. You lean against the wall behind you and close your eyes. The cool air and sweet smell of citrus trigger a memory. You remember better days before the outbreak, specifically one where you were sitting in the grass with your friend just as spring arrived. The weather in Texas was perfect—not too warm or too cold; a slight breeze danced across your skin. Your friend Nessa brought back an absurd amount of oranges from her parent’s home that day, and the two of you ate them until you were sick. Laughing. Exchanging gossip you both heard around school. Giggling over which teacher assistants you found attractive. I swear he would stare at me with bedroom eyes during office hours, Nessa joked. Maybe he was frightened because you were looking at him as if he were some prey you wanted to pounce on... had to keep an eye on you, so he wouldn’t catch a case or somethin’. She rolled her eyes at your response. You miss those days; you miss being 16 and carefree. You miss companionship, especially Nessa. A small part of you hopes she’s out there somewhere, hopefully, better off than you are. The feeling of guilt quickly fills your chest, but this time it's for a different reason. You wished you could go back to the day of the outbreak, you wished you would have looked for her instead of running. Maybe things would have turned out differently, at least you’d have her by your side.

You feel a tear roll down your cheek, quickly wiping it away and drying your eyes with the cuff of your ragged long-sleeve shirt. The moisture stains the sleeve, turning it from a light olive color to dark mossy green splotches. As you’re drying your eyes, the remaining half of your orange slides off your thigh, landing on the floor. Dust now clinging to the sides, you toss it toward one of the corners. Looks like it’ll be a light breakfast today, you thought. You pop the last slice of the first half in your mouth and grab the map from the side of your pack. Carefully opening it up and laying it on your lap, you hover your finger over your current approximate location, tapping it a few times with the tip of your index finger. A few days ago, you reached Fort Collins. It took you a lot longer to get here than it should have, mainly because you kept zigzagging between different places. You now only have about eight miles until you reach city limits, which means you have to decide where you are heading next—something you’ve been putting off since you were forced out of the apartment. 

Finding communities nowadays is few and far between, especially in civilized places, places that offer a sense of safety. When the outbreak began, you were in Houston, Texas. Within the first week, you found refuge at the Houston QZ. Unfortunately, it fell within the first year due to people becoming infected from inside the zone. Nobody knew if the cause of the infection was in the food, the water, or the air. Nobody knew much of anything back then. After Houston, you decided to head north for the Denver QZ. From what you heard, it was still in operation, the conditions weren’t the best; however, they could have been much worse looking back. Eventually, you wanted to head east; you knew it was a long shot, but your family was there, and quite honestly, you didn’t know what else to do. After a grueling month or so of making your way to Denver with some survivors from Houston, picking up a few stragglers along the way, you finally reached the zone. The first few years weren’t all too bad, however, it quickly became corrupt. By your 7th year of being there, outside attacks began happening weekly, punishments were becoming more and more severe; instead of a few days in lockup for being out past curfew, it turned into weeks, which then turned into public beatings. Last you heard, they were shooting people on site for violating curfew by mere seconds. Those weren’t the only major issues, however. Rations began running low. First, they were handing out half rations for the full amount of required ration cards, then it turned into thirds for double the amount of cards. People became desperate, more and more left during the night to look elsewhere for food and supplies. It put a target on a lot of people’s backs if they weren’t careful enough, and since it was punishable by death, a lot of people lost their lives. You either risk starving to death or risk trying to survive. That seemed to be the motto of today’s world.

Even though you stuck around at the Denver QZ for the majority of the outbreak, leaving wasn’t hard. You had a few people you became close with at the beginning, but they either ended up dead or leaving, so after the last one left, you never made any more close ties with anyone. You kept your head down, kept conversations to a minimum, did what you were told, and only created business-type relationships with the stupidest and weakest of FEDRA soldiers. Leaving wasn't the hard part, you realized. It was being completely isolated and alone. Scared and alone. With time, you became tactical and stealthy, learning how the world outside of QZs worked as you went. Even when you had people around you, they weren’t your people. You didn’t want to have to worry about anyone but yourself, you thought it’d be better that way. However, traveling in these conditions by yourself isn’t exactly ideal, but you make it work. You have to. You watch your back, carefully listen to all the surrounding sounds, and think critically before you act. It’s become second nature. You take all the proper precautions to not only protect yourself from the infected, but also from the other people living in this hellhole.

When the world changed, so did the people. The lawless land quickly turned for the worse. Nobody was safe from one another, women and children were more vulnerable than the rest. People became savages, which often made you wonder if humankind had always been this cruel, and if this world was what enabled them to be their true selves.

After putting everything back into your backpack, you carefully tie the laces of your boots up, making sure to secure the laces around your ankle for extra support. The last thing you needed was to twist your ankle, last time it happened, you were out for several days. In the corner of the bathroom, where you tossed the tainted ration bar earlier, sat your old pair of boots, the ones your parents bought you many years ago. The tape was peeling away from both soles, the left one had a gaping hole on the side where the side of your foot would rub. You just happened to find these stuffed in the back of the small stockroom yesterday, there were a few pairs of various sizes. Other than these being a half size too big, they were perfect. Eventually, you needed to find a thicker pair of socks to make them truly fit, but for now, that really didn’t matter. 

After putting your pack on and tightening the straps, so it fits snugly on your back, you holster your gun on your right hip and prepare your knife in your hand for quick use. You begin to mentally prepare yourself for today’s trek. 

Carefully opening the door, you put your ear up to the small opening you created. You listen closely. Listening for any movement, any screams or cries, or any noise that could indicate potential danger nearby. The last few days have been rather quiet—a little too quiet for your liking. You’ve run into a few infected, easily putting them down with your knife. They haven't been running in groups like they usually do. It puts you on edge because you know it could change for the worse at any given moment, and nothing can prepare you for the quick turn of events. You stand there for a few minutes, listening, trying to slow your breathing to heighten your sense of hearing. Not picking up on anything, you proceed with caution. As you walk towards the exit of the store, you glance around at the remaining intact shelving and floor in case you missed anything on your initial sweep yesterday. With all the rubble from the initial bombings and the greenery that invaded the building, it was hard to see much of anything on the floor, but you were desperate for anything. Food. Water. Perhaps some sanity. 

You had no clue where you were going once you made it out of Colorado. Things weren’t looking good in the east, at least from what you heard when you would eavesdrop outside the radio room back at the Denver QZ. You discarded the idea of reuniting with your family back home when you decided to leave. You had to come to terms with how small the chances were that they were even alive, let alone reuniting with them. This morning, you thought of continuing north and heading for Wyoming. Back at the apartment, a man named Charles was talking in the makeshift community room late one night, telling the others he’d been thinking of heading to Wyoming with his two kids. He knew someone who worked in the radio room back at the Boston QZ, they told him they heard of some safe haven in Jackson; supposedly they had food, electricity, and a safe community. Although there was no real, solid evidence that such a thing still existed, if it ever truly existed at all, Charles said it was worth the risk for his kids. He didn’t want them to grow up like this, so he ended up leaving with them the day after. You thought it was stupid and too much of a risk considering how young his kids were, but you couldn’t really judge him for trying. You started to live more in your own head than in reality, mainly yearning for a better future and hoping there was someplace out there that would give you a sense of normalcy. You were no better than Charles. You still really aren’t that much better, are you?  

At this point, the sun was at its peak. The air is cool and starting to feel like spring with every passing day. The mornings are still chilly, but by midday it's warm. You take a moment to stop, taking off your long sleeve and tying it around your waist. You notice the back of your ankles beginning to throb and decide to take a break. You find homage on a shaded area of a curb behind an old rusted car, the windows have been completely smashed in, and vines have woven through the tire’s hubcaps and begun wrapping around the door handles.  As you’re sitting there, massaging your calves with your hands, a feeling of dread washes over you. A familiar feeling with a hint of anxiety. 

You begin to doubt the plan you made . What the fuck am I doing? The thought rushes to the forefront of your mind . 

You quickly pull the map from the side pocket of your backpack and open it all the way. Your eyes dart at all the different markings, dragging your fingers along the creases you’ve made due to folding and unfolding it constantly. 

Okay, so you reach Wyoming, you get to Jackson, and there’s nothing there? Then what do you do? You become overwhelmed with defeat, a heat washing over your face and filling your chest with a burning sensation. Fuck.

Losing yourself completely in the map and your own doomed thoughts, you barely notice the sound of crushed glass coming from your immediate right. A sense of danger triggers something deep within you, causing your stomach to turn. Quickly, but quietly, putting the map away, you position yourself in a crouching, ready to run, position, peering through the back windows of the car. Glancing quickly behind you, you notice that most of the buildings had been hit pretty hard during the initial bombing, and there was no easy or quick access to get inside. However, between two of the buildings, there's a shallow alley that you could quickly revert to if you end up needing more coverage. Just as you tried to make an escape plan, the blood-curdling shriek of an infected stumbling out of one of the buildings echoed through the vacant city, causing you to snap your attention back to the front. Slightly ducking for more coverage, you watch carefully, glancing between the buildings. Then another responds to the initial one’s cries, coming from a building to the left, two more suddenly appear, one tripping over the light pole that fell in front of the doorway. No fucking way, they’re going to draw more out to the street, fear quickly occupies your mind . Your heart is now beating fast as you watch more come from different directions, you haven't been caught in a swarm of this many on your own before. You unholster your gun, just in case, but you know you can’t get caught, not with two bullets and a knife. Close combat with just one of those things is scary enough, let alone with no one else around to help if things start going south. 

You start to turn on your feet to head to the alley, as it is your only hope now, when a loud clicking comes from behind you, immediately stopping you from taking another step. Oh no, fuck. A sinking feeling rapidly develops in your chest. You turn slowly toward the noise, trying to shallow your breathing. Your eyes widen as you spot the clicker coming from one of the buildings behind you, trying to crawl out of a narrow opening beneath a fallen slab of concrete. You sink lower against the back of the car door, putting your free hand over your mouth, scared to make any noise, scared to breathe. It’s moving slowly once it makes its way up onto its feet, turning its head and cocking it towards its shoulder; its arms are twitching uncontrollably, and it begins making that awful clicking noise that sends a chill down your spine. The orange slices from this morning are suddenly sitting in the middle of your throat, ready to come up at any moment.

In your peripheral view, you see movement coming from the alley, next to the building the clicker had just come out of. A man with dirty blonde hair is crouching down near the edge of the building. He’s holding his index finger to his mouth, gun in hand, aimed toward the ground. His finger is hovering over the trigger. You look between him and the gun as the clicker passes by you and the car, making its way slowly to the rest of the infected now roaming the street.

The blood has drained from your face. You are frozen in shock, not daring to move an inch. Your back is pressed firmly against the side of the car door, and your eyes are locked on the man's face. All you can do is stare, you tighten your hand around the grip of your gun, your knuckles turning white. He’s intensely looking in the direction of the infected before glancing briefly at you. A bead of sweat smoothly and steadily runs down the side of his temple before dropping off his face.

With his head, he motions for you to come his way.

“C’mon, hurry this way,” he says in a very low, urgent whisper, causing the infected to cry out in response. You don’t move.

He looks annoyed and shakes his head, still keeping an eye on the potential danger ahead.

“If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it by now,” he quickly lets out, at the same volume as before. “I could have done it multiple times today; I could’ve come up behind you when you were lookin’ at your map. Come. Now.”

This time he said it more firmly, and this time you listened. You turn your head and look once more out of the car windows to make sure the coast is clear before making your way toward him. He guides you in front of him, motioning to go into the depths of the alley. Your heart is beating deeply and fast, air is stuck in your lungs.  You both turn the corner before standing up completely, the man walks ahead before turning to face you. He holsters his gun, placing both his hands on his hips, and lets out a long breath that seemed like he had been holding in for a little too long. You let your breath go as well. 

He is taller than you had anticipated. He's solid with broad shoulders. His hair is shaggy, now looking more brown than blonde, and slightly curly. 

“Name’s Tommy,” he says, still in a low tone, but a bit louder than when you two were on the street. You respond with your name, holstering your gun. He gives you a slight nod with a short-lived smile while tugging at the stretched-out collar of his shirt.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Tommy responds breathily.

read chapter two here!

painting divider | credit: @cottage-writings

[wolfprincesszola]

The Fate of the Marked Six Chapter 4

I need to start queueing these posts because I keep forgetting until it's late~. I hope you guys enjoy and if you do, please reblog this because it helps a lot more than a like would! <3 ——————�� Summary: Virgil moves into a new town and meets Roman, a ghost that he promises to help in finding the unfinished business needed to pass over. However, Roman's past seemed to be deeply muddled with trouble, an uncurable disease that has started to affect a classmate, and a certain tight-lipped valedictorian. Friendships are made and Virgil finds himself thrown into a situation far more complicated and twisted than he signed up. Hopefully, with the help of his new five friends, he can find a way to bring peace to the town once and for all.

Trigger Warnings: None

Content Warnings: Slight swearing, intrusive thoughts

<Masterlist>

<Previous> <Next> ——————–

Chapter 04

The problem with Virgil moving to another city was that he had to be the new kid. He hated being the new kid. It meant having to reintroduce himself to every single person that came to talk to him, and having people stare at him in the hallways, the attention was going to be on him for a while, and more.

That was why he put off going to school for the first week, saying he needed more time to adjust to living in their new home and that he would go in afterwards.

It was the day before his supposed start day for school as he was looking through his closet. He heard a voice, “Knock knock knock.”

“Come in.” Virgil pulled his headphones down, turning around to see Roman phase through the wall. Unamused, he put his headphones back on, “You’re here to bug me earlier than usual.”

“Oh come on, Count Woe-laf, the least you could do is listen to me when I come up. I got bored of eavesdropping on your dad's conversations with the neighbor's dad.”

Virgil rolled his eyes as he took off his headphones that weren't playing anything. Having them hung around his neck, he focused his attention on talking to Roman. As much as he hated to admit, Roman was a really good conversationist and often played to his banter. He wasn't a bad person and wasn't a bad friend, but Virgil knew that even if he had promised to help Roman, it didn't mean that he wasn't fully annoyed at Roman bugging him every day.

“Really? That usually keeps you entertained for two more hours.” Virgil finally responded to Roman's comment about being bored.

“Yeah, well they were talking about cars, and you know how I feel about cars.”

Virgil’s lips turned up in a small smile as he remembered about Roman's unfortunate accident, “Do I really? Please…enlighten me.”

Roman scowled, “I didn’t come here to get bullied by you. I just heard that your neighbor goes to the high school you go to. Apparently, he’s the same age as you too.”

“Uh huh…and?”

“Oh come on, I know you’re feeling nervous about this whole new kid thing, but trust me. It’s not that bad. If I remember anything about high school, there’s going to be someone who will go up to you and become friends with you, even if you don’t want to become friends with them.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t even know the town’s view on magic users, or how many there are in this town.” Virgil wasn't even sure if he wanted Roman to be right. As much as it was nice to have someone to talk to as a friend, making friends by itself flagged his anxiety. It seemed like so much work, time, and socialization: three things that Virgil hated the most.

Roman pursed his lips, trying to remember about the town.

“Do you even know what town this is?” Virgil asked, watching Roman try to think of what to say.

“No.” Roman snorted, “Of course I don’t. Do you?”

“Gainsville. This has to be where you died, so why don’t you remember it?”

“What do you mean? I died in my hometown.” Roman snorted.

“What’s your hometown?”

There was a pause as Roman thought about it before his face melded in horror, “I don’t know.”

“How do you not know your hometown?” Virgil sputtered.

“I don’t know. All I know is that I lived in my hometown for my entire life, and I had a family-”

“Specifics about your family, like their names. Did you have any siblings? Grandparents that lived with you?” Chills ran down Virgil's spine. If Roman didn't remember anything about his past, that could mean something really bad happened during his life or that something more sinister was at play.

“...I don’t know.” Roman’s voice cracked as he started to realize that he didn’t know anything. “I know I had a mother and a father. I don’t know their names. I feel like I had a sibling, but I can’t remember who they were or what they looked like. Is that bad?”

Yes. It was very bad. Still, seeing Roman's distressed face put Virgil at unease. As much as he wanted to tell Roman the truth, he knew that the new ghost would probably be more terrified over something new he learned. From the looks of it, Roman still hadn't really gotten the whole 'being a ghost' thing down to a T, so Virgil decided he would tell Roman once the ghost was more comfortable.

“Well…I’ve certainly never run into a ghost that’s forgotten their past, and it’ll make things a little bit harder.” Virgil sighed, hoping that Roman couldn't hear the lie through his teeth.

Luckily, Roman didn't as he asked Virgil for more information. “Things as in…?”

“Finding what your unfinished business is.”

“Oh…” Roman seemed to slump down, clearly upset about it before he shook out of his mood, “Well, nevermind that. I came here to talk to you about going to school since you’re still a bit unsure about the whole socializing thing. I think you’re being a bit too hard on yourself. Just breathe and believe that someone will come up to be friends with you.”

“I don’t know…” Virgil murmured.

“Do you want me to join you? I can just float around and keep you company during your classes.” Roman offered.

That would be amusing, but Virgil knew that if Roman was beside him, it would probably make the principal lock Virgil away into the asylum. Virgil had a tendency to forget that ghosts were not something everyone could see, so it would be even worse in school. Again, he also wasn't sure about the amount of magic users and how they treated magic overall in the town.

“No, thank you.” Virgil exhaled a small laugh, “There could be mediums at the school and I don’t want them to judge me right away.”

Roman pouted, “But what am I going to do all day if you’re not here to keep my company?”

“My parents are home for half the day, and the other half, there are things such as the internet.” Virgil remarked, “It’s not your fault you haven’t learned how to interact with items yet.”

“I can interact with items?” Roman gaped, going to Virgil’s desk to try and pick up a pencil.

Virgil snorted as he watched Roman struggle to even make contact with the pen, the pen just phasing through his hand. “I wish I could help, but it looks like you’ve got the whole learning thing covered. See? You have something to do while I’m still at school.”

“Will you be okay there?” Roman asked, turning towards the boy and genuinely asking him.

“I will. Will you be okay here?”

“By the end of tomorrow, I will have figured out how to pick up a pen.” Roman gave a loopy smile to his friend.

“I doubt that, but I wish you luck.” Virgil saluted Roman.

-+=~=+-

When Virgil was dropped off at his school, he couldn’t help but agree with his mother about how fancy his new school was. Although it wasn’t private, the sheer size of the buildings and the way people presented themselves made it seem like they were.

Rushing into the school, it was clear the school had a system that Virgil wasn’t aware of because he almost got run over by a group of teenage boys racing through the halls. The only thing that stopped him was a pair of arms that pulled him out of the way.

Virgil turned around as he heard a boy's voice chirp in, "Woah! Careful there!"

The boy had a light-blue polo shirt with a grey cardigan that hung around his shoulders and a backpack hung from his right shoulder. He was smiling as he adjusted the black glasses on his face and stared at Virgil in front of him. "You okay there, kiddo?"

Virgil just nodded at the boy who was the same age as him. Instead of pointing out how the boy talked as if he was a middle-aged dad, Virgil just whispered out a "thank you".

“Don’t sweat it.” The boy shrugged, “You must be new here.”

“Yeah. That obvious?” Virgil pulled the sleeves from his jackets up, playing with the fringes as he desperately wanted the conversation to end. It wasn't the boy's fault. He seemed nice enough, but Virgil wasn't much of a conversationist. It was times like these where Virgil wondered about how Roman would fare in these scenarios and if he would hit it off better than Virgil was currently doing.

“Unfortunately.” He offered his hand out for a handshake, “The name’s Patton.”

“Virgil.” Virgil shook his hand before the two heard a bell sound off. The hallways seemed to almost be cleared, a few kids lingering. “Shouldn’t you be getting to class?”

“Two minute bell. I can spare those two minutes. Is there anywhere you need me to help you find?” Patton asked, kindness flowing through his words. He had nothing but the best intentions, Virgil could tell.

“If you really have time, the front office would be nice.” Virgil was relieved that someone had offered to help his because he was almost about to stumble through the hallways until he was able to find them. He would sacrifice some socialization if it meant that he didn't have to have a mental breakdown trying to find any of his classes or the front office.

“It’s right over there.” Patton pointed to the door right across from where they were looking.

Before Virgil could say anything, the two heard someone coming down the hall, and a teenage boy threatened Patton, “Morris, class?”

“Right, I’ve got to go. I hope you know where to go?” Patton smiled at Virgil. It looked almost as if his smile could be contagious from how happy he always seemed.

"Yeah, thanks." Virgil shrugged, watching Patton run to class before turning his attention to the boy who had threatened Patton.

The boy seemed to be even more formal than Patton with a black button-up, a tie, slicked hair, and black glasses that matched Patton's. He got to the point, staring at Virgil, "You must be Virgil Gray, the new kid. My name is Logan Sanders and I am the valedictorian of our class. I can show you the way around campus."

Logan's speech was all formal and apathetic too. Virgil wondered if the boy ever felt anything since the roboticism and formality seemed to take over Logan's entire personality.

“Don’t you have class?” Virgil raised an eyebrow. He doubted that Logan needed the classes anyways, being the valedictorian and all, but considering the boy had just scolded Patton for being late to class, it was making Virgil wonder.

"The principal asked me to show you around, so I was excused." Logan cleared his throat, "Let’s get you your schedule first and then I can give you the tour.”

Virgil nodded in agreement, following close behind Logan who had started to walk ahead towards where Patton had motioned for the front office. When they walked in, there was a desk where a lady sat, who Virgil could only assume was the secretary. Although she had no nametag, she was nice to him, helping Virgil with the classes right away.

“Alright, you’re all set. I’m guessing our lovely valedictorian is going to show you around.”

“You guessed correctly.” Logan replied, grabbing a binder on the side of the secretary’s desk, “I’ll return this on the tour.”

“Oh, you’re so sweet, honey. Thank you.” The secretary gave a small smile towards Logan.

"It's no problem, Ms. Inug." Logan nodded, forcing a smile on his face that looked almost unnatural. Virgil wanted to pour water onto Logan to see if he'd short-circuit, but wasn't brave enough to do so. They walked out soon after that, walking out back towards the hallway they first met.

Logan turned towards Virgil after stopping in the middle, “Most new kids don’t want the school tour. I’m asking you if you want it, or if you want to go to class right now.”

“What happens if I take the tour?”

“You skip your first period, I take you to your second, and you continue your day from then.”

“Do I need to know anything first?” Virgil asked, looking at his schedule. Math. In the start of the day. He hated math.

“You have Mr. Davidson. As much as I'd like to pride our school in having excellent teachers, Mr. Davidson doesn't seem to enjoy teaching and often relies on ineffective and outdated ways to teach a class."

So Virgil wasn't going to learn anything in math, if Virgil had interpreted Logan's words correctly. That was good, at least. He hated math.

“I’ll take the tour.”

"Then follow me." Logan replied as he walked around, giving short commentary on where they were, as well as a bit of background. The more into the school they got, the more clear it was that Logan knew the school like the back of his hand. He talked about rumors and legends that happened in the cafeteria, as well as the more prominent people in their grade.

Once their tour was done and Logan had made a quick stop to drop off the binder at the correct classroom, the two sat in the empty cafeteria, waiting for the bell to ring for Virgil to go to his second period. Virgil, noticing how quiet Logan liked to be, decided to break the ice.

“Who should I look out for?”

“In terms of what?”

“In terms of I shouldn’t piss them off or even bother talking to them.”

Logan looked up, thinking about it for a while, “Remus Porter is the king of the school. You piss him off, you have no more social life. Janus Wright is his best friend. You piss Janus off, you piss Remus off. Remus is really easy to be friends with, although most people don't stick around to listen to him talk. Just don’t piss off Janus.”

“Yikes. Is Janus a hard person to please?”

“No. If you’re quiet, he'll be okay with you. He doesn’t like loud people.”

“Okay.” Virgil took note of all that, “What about you? As a valedictorian, I’d assume you have a lot of influence.”

“I don’t let people get the better of me.” Logan murmured as he looked at the time on the watch. “The period is ending in a few minutes, so let’s start walking to avoid the crowd.”

Virgil stood up, following Logan, “Thanks for taking me around.”

“Of course.” Logan shrugged, as if it was known he would do anything anyone asked, “It’s just what I do.”

“What? Help people?”

“Yes.”

“Now, kiddo, you know lying's wrong.” A new voice remarked.

The two turned to see Patton walking behind them, raising an eyebrow at Logan.

“Shouldn’t you be in class, Morris?” Logan challenged, crossing his arms. Virgil noticed how quick Logan was to avoid the question.

“Bathroom pass.” Patton showed the pass wrapped around his arm, “Can’t bust me yet, Sanders. I just wanted to see how our new duckling was doing.”

Virgil became hypersensitive at the mention of Roman’s last name, unsure of why that was Logan’s nickname.

“Don’t call him that.” Logan scowled, “Go back to your class.”

“Oh you know you love me.” Patton grinned, “You can join us at lunch, Virgil, if you want.”

“I’m not included in this ‘us’.” Logan scoffed. “I’ll be seeing you in detention today. Don’t forget it.”

“Got it. See you two later.” Patton remarked as he walked away, going back to his class.

“You don’t seem too fond of him.” Virgil remarked.

“Patton Morris’s a class clown. To me, it means I have to clean up all of his messes. As long as I’ve known him, I don’t think there’s any way for the two of us to get along, especially when we’re such jarring opposites.”

“He seems nice though.”

“No comment.” Logan replied as he stopped at a classroom, “I’ll see you later in fourth. Are there any questions before I go?”

Virgil thought about it, the back of his head nagging to ask about if Logan’s surname was Sanders. However, he just shook his head, deciding against treading somewhere where he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to know.

-+=~=+-

Virgil walked into his English class, expecting his teacher to be chill when it was the exact opposite. Walking in, he was greeted by a chirpy “Hello”. Virgil gave a small awkward smile before his English teacher stared at his before gasping, “You must be Virgil, the new kid.”

Virgil winced at how loud his teacher was, “Yeah…”

“Oh gosh, I saw you on the roster, but I couldn’t believe it. It’s free seating everywhere, but I want you to-”

“Miss Loanes, leave the new kid alone.” A guy walking into the class snorted, “I love your enthusiasm, but half the class could not and would not care if they walked up and spent the entire class period talking about themselves.”

His English teacher paused before sighing, “You’re right, Remus.”

“New kid, sit with me.” Remus flashed a smile, offering the seat across from him. There was already a quiet guy sitting there with a face mask covering the bottom half of his face. From what Virgil could see, the guy had a scar on the left side of his face that he was trying to hide with spots of makeup and the face mask.

“What’s your name?” Remus grinned at Virgil expectantly.

“Virgil. You’re Remus, right?”

“I am him.” Remus confirmed, motioning to the boy he sat next to, ‘This is Janus, my best friend.”

Virgil remembered vaguely about what Logan said to not piss them off, “I’ve heard that you two are an undefeatable pair of best friends.”

“Untrue. He’s just a loud asshole who won’t stop talking to me.” Janus finally spoke, crossing his arms, “And he’s powerless too. I mean…pick a struggle, Remus.”

Remus rolled his eyes, “Okay, like you’re any different. You’re powerless too.”

Virgil watched Janus’s eyes flicker to Remus’s forehead as if he was staring at a mark, and Virgil looked there, expecting there to be a sharpie mark or something. There was nothing. It was clear Janus wasn't letting onto his powers. Whatever his power was, it was the most clear on Remus.

“Do you have powers?” Janus asked, “If I may ask.”

“Uh…” Virgil dragged out, wondering if he should lie or not. However, by the way that they seemed genuinely interested and not like they were going to capitalize on powers, he decided to be truthful. “I’m a medium. I can see ghosts.”

“Wait, really?” Remus’s face melded into interest, “How does that work? Can you hear them? Can you touch them? Can you-”

Janus cut Remus off before the boy could say anything more, "Let's not freak out the new kid just yet, Remus."

"You're no fun, Jan." Remus pouted, but still left the sentence unfinished.

Although confused, Virgil just moved on, hoping that Remus wasn't going to ask what Virgil thought Remus was going to ask. "Well, when ghosts die, there are some who have unfinished business. Those ghosts reside in between the spiritual world and the real world, and so they are in our world, but no one but mediums can see them. There are some mediums that can reach into the spirit world and talk to those ghosts, but I’m only the type of medium who can see ghosts with unfinished business. They can only move onto the next world once they finish their business.”

“How do they know their unfinished business?”

“They don’t. Most ghosts spend thousands of years trying to figure out what it is. Sometimes it’s getting their name in headlights, and sometimes it’s making things up with family members. I try to help as many ghosts as I run across to return to the spiritual world.”

"Ooh, has any of the ghosts' wishes ever been to watch someone shove a butt-"

"Remus Porter." Janus glared at his best friend, "What did I say about not freaking out your newfound friend?"

Although Janus had interrupted Remus before the boy could finish, Virgil could guess what Remus wanted to ask and he now understood why Logan said most people don't stick around long enough for Remus to talk.

"Hey, Jan, unlike you, I don't hide anything." Remus grinned.

"Clearly." Virgil grumbled as he desperately tried to erase any of the thoughts implanted into his head from Remus.

"You seem cool.” Janus remarked, “If you want to, there’s a place for you to sit with us at lunch.”

“Thanks." Virgil nodded. Although it seemed that the pair were weird, they seemed to be more together than most of the people at the school. They knew who they were and weren't ashamed of their place in high school. Virgil knew that they would probably be Virgil's go-to people to sit. "Patton also told me that. Apparently he likes to sit with Logan?”

Remus giggled. “No way. Valedictorian Logan Sanders?”

“Yeah, why? Is it that unbelievable?” Virgil raised an eyebrow. He had seen how much Logan was exasperated around Patton, but Patton didn't seem to have any ill intent or ill feelings towards Logan.

"Patton's been Logan's enemy since he first entered this building day 1. Logan was asked to show Patton around, since he was the principal’s son. He showed up to lunch doused in ketchup because Patton thought it would be funny to dump it on him after Logan mentioned loving tomatoes. It was meant to be a lighthearted prank and had it been anyone else in the school, it would've been fine. However, something snapped in Logan and he stopped telling people anything about himself after that. In fact, he stopped being friends with people after that." Janus remarked.

“Why?”

“Don’t know. All I know is that I don’t need to piss off the principal’s son anytime soon because he has power, both as a stepping stone to getting expelled, and a stepping stone towards getting hundreds of detention hours.”

“Got it, so don’t mess with Logan.”

“Don’t mess with the Sanders. I’ve heard his brother is pretty nasty too. Don’t know anything about him though because Logan never talks about his life.”

“Interesting.” Virgil noted the fact that Logan’s last name was also Sanders. However, once Virgil realized that Logan looked nothing like Roman, all of his logic was figuratively thrown out the window.

Before anyone could say anything more, the bell had rung and the three had to be quiet as they listened to the lecture.

-+=~=+-

The cafeteria was chaotic during lunch. Virgil had packed lunch, just in case he didn’t like the menu, as he was very stubborn in food. However, it was the direct opposite why he was glad he packed lunch. The options seemed so amazingly good, but they were all gone by the time he walked into the cafeteria.

Walking into the cafeteria, he glanced around aimlessly until he heard a voice.

“Virgil!”

He looked to where the voice was calling his to see Remus waving and smiling. Janus seemed to be staring, almost embarrassed and trying to get Remus to stop. They were both sitting at the table in the middle, with no one around them but everyone was still staring at them. Remus was currently eating his plate while Janus was playing a game on his phone.

Virgil just walked over, going over to sit with them.

“You bring lunch?” Remus asked, “What did you bring?”

“Pasta.” Virgil shrugged, “But the food options look amazing.”

“Here.” Janus pushed his plate towards Virgil, “I don’t like any of it. Remus always makes me get an extra plate because he’s hoping one day I’ll eat at school. He always eats my plate at the end of the day, but I’m afraid that he pretends like he’s not too full by the end of it. Spare the both of us.”

Virgil gave a small smile, grabbing it, “Thank you, Janus.”

Janus shrugged, going back to his game, “Let me know if you have any allergies next time. I can get lunch for you.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay. I’ll see if I can arrive early to grab it-”

“No, that’s not how this lunch thing works. It always gets sold out before the bell even rings. Trust me, we have a system to even get it. Let my little pogchamp get it for you.” Remus remarked, ruffling Janus' hair

“You call me that again and I’ll break your dick in half like a glowstick.” Janus threatened as he didn’t bother to even look up, continuing with playing the game on his phone.

“Alright, thanks, Janus.”

"Do you have room for another two?" A familiar voice came through.

The three looked up to see Patton grinning, holding Logan's collar behind him. Logan had his arms crossed as he was holding a clipboard and pencil.

“Sure.” Remus shrugged, making room for the two of them on the side Janus and him were on. Patton took the offer, but Logan went to sit next to Virgil, taking out a worksheet.

“Our one and only valedictorian. So studious.” Patton remarked with a genuine awe laced. It was clear to Virgil that Patton looked up to Logan a lot, even if it may not have been requited.

“He dragged me out of my club meeting.” Logan seemed annoyed, “Said they could run it without the president.”

“You have no trust in your board members.” Patton argued.

“I have all the trust in them! I have zero trust in you.” Logan glared as he worked on his math.

“Cookie?” Virgil offered the pissed off boy the chocolate chip cookie, which Logan gladly took.

“Thank you, Virgil.” He grumbled, going back to working on his homework.

“How's your first day been?” Patton asked, changing the subject.

“Good. Chaotic, but good. I made a couple new friends today.” Virgil nodded.

Patton flashed a smile, “I hope it’s the five of us here today.”

“Yeah.” Virgil cleared his throat, trying to hide his flush.

“Stop doing your homework for one second, Sanders, and pay attention to the conversation.” Patton swiped away Logan’s homework, leaving Logan to death-glare him. Patton's tone reminded Virgil of almost like a disappointed dad.

“I thought you said you don’t let people get the better of you.” Virgil remarked.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t thinking of Patton Morris when I said it.” Logan rolled his eyes, pulling out a yellow slip of paper, writing Patton’s name on it and giving it to him. “Virgil, have you seen the rest of the city, or met anyone else around these parts?”

“No, why?”

“Well, it is a small city. You are bound to know people.” Logan shrugged, “I was just wondering because if not, you should check out the museum downtown. They finally added a few new sections.”

“What? Really? Why didn’t we hear about it?” Patton perked up, “I love the downtown museum. We should all go there and check it out one day.”

"I don't know, Patton." Janus raised an eyebrow, "We're all not that great of friends."

"This is a great way to make us friends! We would get to know each other.”

"Ooo, in that case, count me in." Remus grinned, wiggling his shoulders in interest, "We could list all the different ways you could kill someone in alphabetical order while we're there."

Patton's eyes widened at the thought of that and Janus sighed as he tried to de-escalate Patton's reaction, "To spare everyone's sanity, Remus and I will not be doing that."

“That sounds like anxiety and socialization I’m not prepared for. I’ll pass.” Virgil replied.

“Count me out.” Logan made a face, “I don’t get close to people.”

“Wow, what an ass-.” Patton snorted as he saw Logan standing up, clearly going to take care of responsibilities elsewhere. "-sset."

Virgil didn't know that Patton made jokes, let alone jokes like that. He had to hide a smile begging to break through. It was clear the rest of the group was doing the same.

“Like I can’t say the same about you.” Logan remarked back, fixing his glasses before walking away.

“I think it’d still be nice if we planned it.” Patton offered, “Besides, I don’t have many close friends. It’s kinda sad how Logan’s so close to me that he’s my best friend, but he won't even talk to me. Maybe if I get to know you guys, I’ll have better friends.”

“You keep pissing off Logan. It’s not our fault that he hates you.” Janus snorted, “If I had someone who did everything he could to stop me from doing stuff I wanted to do, I’d probably be pissed off too.”

“Hey, you do have that!” Patton motioned to Remus.

“Hey! You’re right! Why didn't you mention me?” Remus pouted.

"Sorry." Janus rolled his eyes, "The difference is that Remus and I have come to an understanding. You create messes for Logan that he has to clean up."

Patton slumped down, thinking about it, "Oh man...do I?"

“I don’t think the problem is that you keep annoying him, but I just think that you guys don’t work together because you guys are so different. He's quiet, you’re loud. Everyone loves you, everyone hates him. He's the valedictorian so he’s super serious all the time, and you’re the class clown who I've heard makes a lot of puns. Of course you guys are going to always go head in head.” Virgil offered.

“He's smart. I’m officially adopting his as mine.” Janus replied, putting his phone down to make eye contact with Virgil.

Seconds later, his eyes shifted to Virgil’s forehead, where Virgil touched, worried that something landed there.

“Ah, sorry, I thought I saw something. It was nothing.” Janus murmured as he looked away.

“I’m down to go!” Remus grinned, “Janus, I don’t care what you say, but you’re coming too.”

“Great.” Janus’s voice was deadpan.

“I’ll find a way to get Logan to come.” Patton grinned, “Leave it to me and the six remaining hours he has to spend with me in detention.”

“Why is he spending detention with you? I thought he was the valedictorian.” Virgil raised an eyebrow.

“Being the principal’s son means he gets a lot of responsibility that teachers aren’t willing to put in themselves. It saves on money, and Logan can write it off as responsibilities of being valedictorian.” Patton explained.

“That leads to a higher standard for the next valedictorian. The teachers will have to go back once Logan graduates.” Virgil frowned.

“Yeah, well, it’s rough for the Sanders. Apparently it was the same with his brother.” Janus murmured, “There’s always been a rumor that’s spread around that there’s a reason his brother isn’t seen around the city anymore, the reason being that he was sick of everything.”

“Is this just known information? Should we be talking about it?” Virgil didn't feel comfortable in this situation. He felt as if he shouldn't be talking about it.

“Logan knows about everything. There’s no doubt he also knows the rumors that surround his family.” Remus remarked.

“Does anyone know his brother’s name?” Virgil asked.

Everyone shrugged, “No one talks about him. Not even the Sanders family. It’s almost as if he disappeared from existence for them.”

“Really?”

“Actually, I used to be really good friends with Logan.” Janus shrugged, “He was really open all the time, and happy. he was loud and he felt like himself. He was still a nerd, but he was happy and proud about it. Then…around middle school, something happened and he stopped doing everything he used to do. He stopped being loud and himself, and instead became closed off. He stopped talking to people outside of schoolwork. He started working harder on stuff, and didn’t go anywhere if it wasn’t to study. He just became a recluse after middle school.”

“You think it has anything to do with his brother?” Patton asked.

A throat cleared caught everyone's attention. The four turned around to see Logan standing, unamused, "You should know…it’s not very nice to talk about rumors behind someone’s back.”

Speechless, the four could only stare at Logan as if he had caught them in an intricate web of lies. Guilt crawled up Virgil's spine, knowing that he should've stopped everyone from talking about it. However, Logan seemed to be the most embarrassed out of all of them as he walked up to Patton.

"Apologies. I had forgotten about my Calculus homework that Patton had grabbed out of my hand." Logan murmured as he held his hand out for Patton. Patton was quick to give Logan his things and he started to walk away.

No one said anything as they watched Logan walk away. At least until Logan broke the silence once more upon halting in his tracks and turning back to them. His cheeks were flushed and it was the first time Virgil ever saw any real emotion on Logan's face. He seemed upset almost.

"I don't care if you do speculate on my life, or about my family. Just...please, whatever you say, leave my brother out of it."

Logan turned on his heel and walked out of the classroom before he could even get confirmation from the others. Once he was gone though, Patton's expressions flooded with sadness and guilt. "Logan's never sounded so desperate. He always has a polite or authoritative tone."

"Right...well, you heard the boy. No more talking about his brother." Janus exhaled a sharp breath as he stood up, "Come on, Re. Let's get to our own math class before you start speaking about more gore."

“Coming!” Remus packed up as fast as possible, bounding towards the boy who had already started walking.

“Which way are you going?” Patton grinned, turning his full attention to Virgil. “I’ll walk you there.”

Virgil uncrumpled the paper he had shoved into his pocket to look at the last class of the schedule, "Art."

“We should go before the crowd picks up when the bell rings.”

The two walked in silence the entire way to the class, until Virgil broke the silence, “Hey Patton?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think Logan has a power that makes him scared of getting close to people? Maybe that’s why he stopped talking to Janus.”

“Hm, maybe.” Patton smiled, “I’ll ask today, but I doubt it. I think he has magic. I just…don’t think he uses his power ever.”

“Really?”

“Trust me. I can feel it when people have powers.”

“Do you really know?”

“Yes, I do, Mr. Boy With Powers.” Patton remarked as he walked away, right as Virgil stopped by his classroom. ————– Patton may not make as many puns in this fic since it's so hard for me to make puns, forgive meeeee T-T, but ooooo, I love characterization and learning about backstories. Also 5/6 of the gang are together now and we get more insight into the dynamics of everyone~

If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging! Reblogging helps me a lot and are very appreciated. Check out my masterlist for more, feel free to request any writings, and stick around if you want to see the rest of what I have in store for this! :)

[bojackhorsemanobviously]

@ccartman

write a dark fictional story of bojack horseman saving eric cartman from kidnappers

Bojack Horseman had always been a deeply flawed and troubled individual. He had spent years grappling with his inner demons, battling addiction and depression, and struggling to find meaning in his life. But when he heard that Eric Cartman, the notoriously foul-mouthed and obnoxious resident of South Park, had been kidnapped, Bojack knew that he had to act.

He didn't know exactly why he felt so drawn to Cartman. Perhaps it was because they were both outsiders in their own way, both struggling to find their place in the world. Or maybe it was because he saw something of himself in the young boy, something that he wanted to save.

Bojack set out on a desperate quest to find Cartman, tracking down clues and following leads across the country. He encountered all manner of danger and obstacles, facing down violent gangs and corrupt officials in his search for the missing boy.

Finally, after weeks of relentless pursuit, Bojack discovered the location where Cartman was being held. It was a dingy basement in the heart of a rundown industrial district, filled with the stench of sweat and fear. Cartman was chained to a wall, his eyes wide with terror as his captors taunted and threatened him.

Bojack burst into the room, his heart pounding with adrenaline. He was ready to fight to the death to save Cartman, to prove to himself that he was capable of being a hero. The kidnappers sneered at him, brandishing their weapons and daring him to make a move.

But Bojack was faster than they expected. He launched himself at them, a blur of fury and determination, knocking them to the ground with a fierce barrage of punches and kicks. The room echoed with the sound of breaking bones and screams of pain, and in the chaos, Bojack managed to free Cartman from his restraints.

Together, they fought their way out of the basement, racing through the streets and dodging bullets as they went. Bojack could feel Cartman trembling with fear beside him, but he refused to let go of the boy's hand. He was determined to protect him, to keep him safe no matter what.

When they finally emerged into the sunlight, battered and bruised but alive, Bojack collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath. He looked up at Cartman, his eyes filled with tears.

"I did it," he whispered. "I saved you."

Cartman stared back at him, his expression unreadable. But Bojack could sense something shifting between them, some unspoken bond that had formed in the heat of battle. They were both survivors, both fighters, and in that moment, they were connected in a way that neither of them could fully understand.

As they limped away from the scene of the rescue, Bojack knew that he had found something that he had been searching for all his life. A sense of purpose, a reason to keep fighting, a hope that maybe, just maybe, he could be something more than the sum of his mistakes.

[waitingandwishing]

(Cross posted on tumblr and AO3)

Masterlist - Next Chapter

Clink, clink, clink

Porcelain joints clinked together as Y/N walked. It was a soft sound, like little china tea cups clinking against each other. She smiled to herself at the smell of wet air from the recent rain, breathing in deeply before exhaling.

 As she walked through the streets, some people stared, it wasn’t everyday they’d see such a small girl walking alone in the city. Especially with some of the people living there. Or, maybe it was because of the uncanny look she had.

Clink, clink, clink

Y/N’s skin looked like glass, similar to a porcelain doll. Her eyes had a shiny gleam in them even though it seemed as if they were soulless. Her smile was… Nice. She was smiling as if nothing was wrong in the world! Even though the smile never reached her eyes.

Clink, clink, clink

She had black gloves on that made the handle of her umbrella slightly slippery. The porcelain doll had a long-sleeved, white, ruffle blouse underneath a black suspender jumpsuit. Almost as if Y/N stepped out of a vintage magazine. 

Earlier, she found a small crack in one of her hands and her mask underneath her eye hole. Even though she didn’t need to wear a porcelain mask, she preferred to. Her face was ugly.

Clink, clink, clink

That was the reason why she was out (not to fix her face), the cracks troubled her and kept her awake. So, she went to her personal repairwomen and asked her to fix her. Thankfully, Hela did the job well. Hela ended up fixing her mask and hand pretty well.

She repainted the red lipstick and green-blue eyeshadow. Y/N was thankful because she had noticed earlier that week that her paint was chipping off of her mask.

Clink, clin-

She suddenly stopped in front of a TV storefront, which was weird since most of those weren’t even around, and her slight smile turned into a frown as she watched the news.

Moments ago, police reported the death of the most eccentric and reclusive billionaire, Reginald Hargreeves.

Y/N was Number Eight, The Wisp or The Doll. She preferred her original title over her most recent one. It reminded her that she was no longer fully human and sometimes it was better to bury things deep down.

_____________________________________________________

The mansion was designed in a Gothic style with dark, looming stone walls, high-pitched roofs, and ornate detailing. The tall, narrow windows that give it a somewhat eerie appearance. 

The building is massive, with multiple stories and wings, making it feel more like an academy or institution than a typical family home. Y/N supposed that was why it was called ‘Umbrella Academy’ and not ‘Umbrella Family’.

Y/N’s hands clinked together as she removed the gloves from her hands and opened the front door hesitantly, as if something or someone was going to jump out at her at any second. 

Upon entering, the familiarly large and dramatic foyer, Y/N sighed, nothing had changed throughout the house. The foyer had a sweeping staircase that led to the upper floors. The space was adorned with dark wood paneling, heavy drapes, and antique furnishings.

“Ah, Miss Y/N. I’m glad that you’re doing well.” A familiar voice called out to her. It was a soothing voice, one that calmed almost everyone down. It was nice to hear her fathers ape assistant, Pogo.

Y/N turned and smiled, “Hello, Pogo.” She smiled, her shoes tapped on the ground as she walked up to him, “How are you?”

“I’ve been doing well, thank you Miss Y/N.” Pogo said, “I wasn’t expecting you to come knowing that you were very busy with repairs.”

“The cracks come and go, my family won’t wait for me.” Y/N said.

“As graceful and elegant sounding as ever.” Pogo nodded as the door opened to reveal… Luther.

“Am I… Early?” Luther asked awkwardly, his gaze staying on Y/N for a few more seconds than it did with Pogo.

Y/N’s slight smile became a bit wider, “I suppose you are, Luther.” She said, “How was the moon?”

“It was… The same old moon as always. Sent some stuff to dad, almost ran out of food.” Luther smiled slightly, “I’m gonna go up to dad’s room.”

“Luther,” Y/N said, “Are you doing well?”

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just that I can see my father's experiments.” Y/N said, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well it’s not gonna change anything.” Luther said, his voice getting defensive.

“I know what that’s like, Luther.” Y/N smiled, tapping her finger on the side of her face, making a clink sound. “It’s good to see you again.” She said as Luther walked up the large wooden staircase.

“... Good to see you too, Y/N.” Luther eventually said.

After a moment of silence, Y/N turned to Pogo, “Pogo, do you know where Mother is?” She asked.

Pogo nodded, “She’s upstairs, looking at the paintings.” He said and Y/N thanked the ape before going into the parlor.

The living areas in the mansion were grand and old-fashioned, with large fireplaces, vintage furniture, and an overall sense of formality. Despite the fanciness, the rooms always felt cold and lacked the warmth of a typical family home.

 Of course, this living area wasn’t much different. Y/N walked upstairs to the main landing before seeing her Mother sitting down, looking at one of the paintings with eeriness.

“Hello, Mother.” Y/N said, walking up to her chair with hesitation. Grace snapped her head to the side to see Y/N and smiled.

“Darling, welcome back home.” Grace said and stood up, hugging Y/N tightly.

“Um, everyone’s going to be downstairs. So, if you’d like to greet everyone when they come in, maybe you’ll…” Y/N’s voice trailed off.

“Of course I’ll meet everyone downstairs. Don’t you worry, darling.” Grace said before sitting back downstairs.

Y/N frowned, her Mother was acting weird, but shrugged it off and went to go back downstairs to the parlor. Maybe she’d see Vanya or Klaus first. 

As she came back down to the parlor, she sighed to herself as she saw the portrait of Five above the fireplace. She pursed her lips as she remembered the boy. It was such a long time ago when she came here…

_____________________________________________________

“Please, we cannot take care of our daughter.” Y/N’s father pleaded to Reginald. The old man pursed his lips.

“I have no need to have another child in this household. I already have the designated children that I need.” Reginald said sternly, “I cannot help you two. You said you wanted a child, there you have it.”

“She’s different.” Y/N’s mother explained, “She has… She does weird things.”

Reginald, although skeptical, asked the desperate woman to continue. The parents both looked at each other before exhaling slowly.

“She controls things. Whenever she plays with her toys, they move on their own. She moves things around the house, we can’t find anything.” Y/N’s mother explained, “We’ve always wanted a child but… Not this one.”

“And it’s been five years. Surely you’ve had enough time to discard the child.” Reginald said. The parents widened their eyes, shocked by the man’s heartlessness.

“We’re not going to kill a child.”

“I did not mean that. I meant that you could put her in every other orphanage and household.” Reginald crossed his arms, “Why mine?”

“You warned us, we ignored you. We thought-”

“Well, you thought wrong.” Reginald frowned, “Now, get off my-”

“Mama…” A small voice whispered. Reginald snapped his head towards the five year old girl tugging on the woman’s red skirt. The five year old girl had a black suitcase with her. “I wanna go home…”

“This is our daughter.” Y/N’s mom pushed the five year old girl from behind her and in front of Reginald.

Reginald pursed her lips, “What can you do?” He asked. Y/N looked at her parents nervously.

The couple nodded with tight smiles before Y/N turned back and dug through her pocket to reveal a pen. She opened her hand and the pen slowly floated up and started spinning. 

Reginald paused before nodding, “Very well.” He said and opened the door behind him. Circe looked at her parents with a confused look.

Y/N’s dad knelt down to the girl’s level, placing his hand on her shoulder. “You’re going to be staying here. It’s a new school, a… Special one for kids like you.” He explained.

Y/N blinked before turning to look at the old man once again, “I don’t wanna go with the scary man.” She whispered.

Y/N’s dad smiled, “You’ll be alright. It’ll be just for a little while.”

Y/N knew it wasn’t going to be for ‘a little while’. She heard their conversation, she wasn’t stupid. The girl knew that they were throwing her away like some doll. 

Something in her gut told her that something was wrong, but brushed the feeling off as she saw the grand foyer of the Umbrella Academy Mansion.

“This is where you will be staying.” Reginald placed his hand on the girl's shoulder and guided her up the steps of the foyer.

She looked up and down the halls as Reginald stared at the girl, observing her expressions. “Down the hall to the far left is Number One, Number Three, and Number Seven’s rooms as well as the bathroom” Reginald pointed down the hallway, “These two rooms next to us are Number 4’s room and Number 2’s room.”

He walked down the hallway and the both of them turned to walk up green stairs. “The two rooms up here are Number Five’s and Number Six’s. Your room will be this empty one.”

“Um, sir, where is everyone?” Y/N asked. Reginald turned to look at the girl.

“They are on a mission, Number Eight.” Reginald said. Y/N frowned at the name.

“My name’s Y/N, not-”

“Think of it as a nickname, everyone is assigned these nicknames and everyone will be called these nicknames unless I say so, Number Eight.” Reginald said, walking down the hall and leaving her alone, “Get used to your new home.”

Y/N sighed and opened her room, it was fairly empty with a single window. A plain bed, a small dresser, floor-length mirror, and desk were all that sat in the room. She frowned and dragged her suitcase in.

Y/N decided that this place needed some decorating and opened her suitcase to reveal a small stuffed bear. She placed it on her bed with a slight smile.

_____________________________________________________

“We have a new member of the Umbrella Academy, Number Eight.” Reginald stepped aside to reveal the girl. She breathed in and out slowly, standing up as tall as she could and raising her head slightly.

She wondered who Number One was. The kids in front of her, probably her age, were in a straight line as Reginald walked beside each of them.

“Number One.”

Blonde, probably the leader.

“Number Two.”

Second tallest, impatient looking.

“Number Three.”

Curly haired, probably the prettiest.

“Number Four.”

Third tallest, looks like he’s antsy to move

“Number Five.”

He has a sort of smug looking smirk, probably arrogant

“Number Six.”

Nervous looking, might be the kindest

“Number Seven.”

Quiet.

Y/N pursed her lips, looking at all of them nervously. “And this is Number Eight children.” Reginald said, standing next to the girl.

“What does she do?” Diego asked. Reginald turned to the girl and Y/N shrugged, she wasn’t sure what she could do exactly.

“Today’s agenda is to test exactly what she can do, Number Two.”

_____________________________________________________

Y/N breathed in and out harshly, “I wanna take a break, I’m tired.” She complained.

“Taking a break won’t be possible out in the field, Number Eight!” Reginald barked, “Now, fight.”

The six children were watching through the glass windows, they were intrigued with the new guest. After losing to Number Three, Number Five, and Number Six, Y/N didn’t seem to have much hope left.

Y/N and Number One looked at each other before Number One charged forward. He swung a mighty fist toward Y/N, aiming to end the fight with one powerful blow. But just as his fist was about to connect, Y/N's eyes flashed with a yellow light.

Number One was suddenly pushed back into one of the glass walls at lightning speed, shattering the glass.

Y/N blinked, her eyes going back to e/c as Number One groaned and got up. There was a moment of silence before Reginald spoke.

“That is quite enough, all of you go back to your rooms.” Reginald said. The children awkwardly shuffled past each other and went upstairs, going to their separate rooms. Y/N breathed in harshly, biting her lip to stop tears as she sat on her bed.

She was so tired, she just wanted to go home to her mom. She missed her dad’s warm hugs, their nice meals, and the rest of her stuffed animals.

She clutched onto the small stuffed animal she had brought with her and hugged it tightly, burying her head into her arms. Y/N heard a strange sound, looking up to see Number Five.

She wiped her sudden tears and sat her back against the wall. “What do you want?” She asked, her voice shaking violently.

“How’d you do that?” The boy asked. Y/N buried her head back into her stuffed animal. The boy sighed and sat down next to her on her bed.

“I’m not supposed to talk about it.” Y/N said, her voice muffled.

"Well, maybe you could talk about it with me.” The boy said. Y/N lifted her head to get a good look at him and slightly smiled.

“My mama tells me it’s not good to use it.” She said, her voice so quiet it was almost a whisper.

“So you can control people?” The boy asked. Y/N shook her head.

“I can control objects... Not people…” Y/N dug into her pocket to reveal the pen from earlier and spun it around with a slight smile. “This and…” She raised her stuffed animal and brought it back down with her hand. The boy smiled slightly as Y/N leaned forward to get a good look of his face. She looked at him before stating, “You have dimples.”

T he boy looked at her with a weird look. “Yeah, so?”

“I think it’s funny.” She said as the boy frowned. “So, if everyone here has a cool power, what can you do?” She asked.

“ Okay, I’ll show you. But only if you’ll help me with something after.” The boy said. Y/N nodded and Number Five held out his hand, she hesitantly took it as the air around them whooshed and she was suddenly in the parlor.

“Woah! Teleportation’s your power?!” Y/N exclaimed, smiling as if it was the coolest thing ever. The boy wasn’t used to someone being so excited about… Him before.

“No, it’s spatial jumping. It’s the ability to instantly move from one location to another without physically occupying the space between.” The boy said.

“Oh! I… Guess that makes sense?” Y/N frowned. The boy snickered before holding her hand and jumping to his room.

“This is my room.” Five smiled, sitting down on his desk chair. Y/N looked around, sitting on his bed.

“ So, what’s the deal with spatial jumping? Like, the whole thing.” Y/N asked. Number Five thought about it before speaking.

“Spatial is the transfer of matter or energy from one point to another without traversing the physical space between them…” Number Five rambled before turning red, “Sorry, I don’t mean to ramble.”

“Why’d you stop? I wanna know more.” Y/N smiled. Number Five brightened up as he sat down next to the girl, continuing to talk about the scientific theories around it such as quantum tunneling, quantum teleportation, and wormholes.

_____________________________________________________

She missed him. It was hard for her to admit it but she did miss him. Y/N let out a small breath before turning to see her mother was sitting down and looking deeply at the fireplace.

Y/N shrugged off the weirdness of her mother before the wooden door of the mansion opened to reveal… Vanya.

Vanya looked around to see Y/N and smiled nervously, “Hey, Y/N.” Vanya smiled. Y/N walked over with a wave.

“Vanya, it’s nice to see you again.” Y/N said with a genuine smile, not the polite one she gave to Luther or the default one she had masked on her face, but a genuine smile.

Vanya looked hesitant, she wasn’t sure of how her sister would react to her. She thought she’d be angry, or sad. But she felt a bit relieved as she hugged her sister tightly.

[genshinboys]

Thigh job with Genshin Boys - Xiao

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Fem reader x Xiao

When you enter your flat, a handsome but grumpy Yaksha is sitting cross-legged on your bed resting his chin in the palm of his small hand. He grimaces and shoots something that can be referred to as a death stare in your direction. 

Here we go again. You think to yourself as you close the door behind you.

„You are late.” He basically growls at you fixing you with another menacing glare.

„It’s nice to see you too, Baby.” You approach the sulking adeptus and lean in to kiss his forehead but, alas, he backs away and frowns in turn.

„Oh, no kisses then?” A smile on your face but a sneer in your voice makes his blood boil.

It is like a match in a powder barrel.

„Don’t play dumb with me, Y/N!” He warns. „I know all of your cheap tricks.”

You let out an annoyed huff. Arms crossed on your chest.

„Why would you even ask when I saw you following me all the damn time, hmm?” You accuse your boyfriend, gazing right into Xiao's averting eyes.

„I wasn’t follow-,” and then he goes silent knowing fully well that lying isn’t an option with you.

„So?” You nag, hoping for any kind of response. „No need to be this jealous, Xiao.”

„Don’t get weird ideas in your head.” The boy deadpans. „I’m not jealous!” He defends himself but it doesn’t sound convincing enough even for his own ears. He blushes and turns his head away.

You let out a sigh and smile warmly at your boyfriend’s pettiness.

Does he even realise how cute he is? You briefly wonder and then you reach for his silky hair and ruffle it affectionately.

It’s been a taxing, full of ups and downs journey since you met the haunted by karmic debt Yaksha. At first, he didn’t even acknowledge your presence. You were just another bothersome individual and he could not care less about your existence. It was unnerving. He was snarky, seething with rage for no reason, hiding his feelings for so long that it seemed to you that they were going to explode inside of him one day leading to his utter despair and demise. You got to know about his past and the weight of his karmic debt from Zhongli. You took pity. Somehow you felt compelled to help the boy, regardless of his repulsive demeanour. The golden-eyed Yaksha was of a different opinion, though. 

Xiao didn’t want you to get close to him. He couldn’t make any sense of your stubbornness. Why would you even want to have anything to do with him? Him? 

A barbaric monster, eaten up alive by remorse and regret. 

A blood-thirsty fiend whose sole purpose of breathing is to slaughter and spread fear wherever he shows his face. 

These were the thoughts so deeply engraved in his unfortunate soul that he couldn’t allow anyone to come near him.

He perceived himself as a hollow, barren of any human emotions vessel. The only feelings he was familiar with were pain and the burden of his legacy that he is forced to carry up to this day.

Bizarrely, as time had passed he was taken aback by some unfamiliar sensation of tightness in his chest. It wasn’t painful. Nothing that would come close to the distress caused by the divine will. It wasn’t permanent, either. It only happened in your presence, as Yaksha would hesitantly observe. Sometimes it got even worse. It would be accompanied by this fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

„Why are you this close? Huh? Do you have a death wish?”

„Move, I don’t have time to sit around and be idle like you do.”

„You have no respect for the adepti. Stop fooling around.” 

The more he pushed you away the more you were determined to lure him in. You couldn’t stop laughing when one day Zhongli informed you that the troubled Yaksha came to him to seek advice regarding this weird tightness in his chest and an upset stomach when you were around. 

And so, you smile fondly at your boyfriend as he yanks your hand away not liking the way you tousle the emerald green strands.

„I’m sorry XIao. I didn’t mean to be late. Just wanted to buy some jewellery.” You point to your thigh to get the adeptus’ attention back where it should be, which is you, not the wall.

Xiao glances at your thigh doing his best to remain impassive and uninterested. Unfortunately, his eyes widen a little and his mouth is somehow stuck hanging open as if he were to say something but the words never come out.

„You saw me bargaining with the shopkeeper, nothing wrong about that, right?” You explain to the adeptus currently captivated by the glimmering golden chain adorning your thigh.

Xiao has a lot to learn when it comes to dealing with his own emotions. You are acutely aware of that. He doesn’t know how to react, how to show that he cares or process what he feels. He doesn’t also entirely understand the purpose of half of the things that you insist on doing to him. Playful bites, tickling, holding his hand in public. He doesn’t question these actions even though it’s all a novelty. He does know for sure that it makes him feel flustered and all hot inside. 

Does he despise it? No. 

Would he like for you to continue? The answer to that question is definitely affirmative but Xiao is not going to admit it out loud. 

He also has no clue how to initiate all of these things. Is he supposed to bite you back as well? What if he hurts you? Everything is so overwhelming as he’s endured years of solitude and sadness. You have to patiently teach him everything from square one. Nevertheless, it’s incredibly rewarding and you find yourself falling for him a bit more with each clumsy kiss, a shy but warm hug and an awkward attempt at complimenting you.

However, despite being not well-versed in sexual encounters, Xiao does pleasantly surprise you by catching up with everything real quick. 

So, as his eyes are fixated on the trinket, you once again run your hand through his lush and long hair.

„Why would you even buy it? Pointless.” The boy retorts grumpily this time showing no signs of objection to your tender gesture. He moves his head up a little, losing himself to the tingling sensation going down his scalp.

„So that you can stare at me like that with those needy eyes?” You answer truthfully, barring the real intent behind your actions.

He snorts and his face turns into that lovely shade of pink and then deep red within seconds.

He would absolutely turn his gaze away if not for the fact that you take his chin in your hand and thrust his face upwards forcing him to look you straight in the eyes.

„If you don’t like it you can take it off.”

„No need.” 

You chuckle softly.

„Let me make amends for my delay.” 

You take a step forward and place your knee on the verge of the bed. Xiao drinks in the view of your thigh-highs squeezing into the meat of your legs. The chain shimmering lightly right above the lacy material.

„You can touch it, Baby.” You encourage the nervous Yaksha.

Visibly tensed, he reaches for the exposed skin and lightly traces the chain with his unsure fingers. It almost tickles but you let him do as he pleases and soon Xiao attempts to fully envelop your thigh with his greedy hand. He does cover half of it at best, but he seems satisfied and proceeds to squeeze it. It feels soft to the touch and he shivers at how warm and inviting your legs are in contrast to his icy-cold and sweaty palms. Bewitched, Xiao aches for more and he selfishly pulls you in so that you are now kneeling in front of him on the bed.

He stops breathing when you swiftly unbutton your shorts and undress for him. You let his eyes roam over your half-naked body for some time enthralled by the way Xiao’s pupils dilate in awe.

You lean into him as Xiao pulls you towards him for a messy kiss. It isn’t gentle as usual but full of passion and urgency. He whines when you bite on his lower lip but then you gently stroke him with your tongue to ease the discomfort.

Slowly, very very slowly, your hands go down his torso only to finally stop at the bulge in Xiao’s loose pants. You tug at the waistband and Xiao lifts his ass a bit to help you strip him naked. His penis, hard and heavy, resting now on his lower belly. He hisses when you palm his hard erection and that simple touch sends jolts of electricity down his spine. It leaves him intoxicated once you start gliding with the heel of your palm up and down the underside of his member. You repeat the movement and Xiao’s body jerks in response.

„Don’t tease.” The adeptus pleads through gritted teeth.

„I’m so sorry, Baby. Gonna make you feel real good.”

Xiao can feel himself growing impossibly harder when you place your feet on either side of his hips. When he looks down he can see your wet folds and the pinkish colour of your tight hole. Lying on your back, you prop yourself on your elbows so that you can look at Xiao’s face in the process. You scoot a bit closer to the confused boy, your bum is right in front of his erected shaft. You take his cock in your hand and guide him in between your thighs. In the beginning, you try to be delicate. You gently rub the tip of his cock, circle his shaft with your fingers and with a fisted hand spread his pre-cum all the way down to his pubic hair so that he is thoroughly lubricated. You wouldn’t like to hurt the boy during the whole ordeal. 

His breath is shallow. Excitedly, you clasp your thighs together and start playing with his dick. You rotate your hips and massage his cock. It slides in and out and Xiao growls feeling ecstatic. You exchange between rubbing him with your thighs or gliding your hand along his cock, starting at the very top and working your way down to the bottom until Xiao can’t stifle his cries anymore. A few more strokes and he is definitely going to beg. 

Xiao is on fire. It feels too good to be true and he wants this moment to last forever. He licks his dry lips and moans wantonly thrusting his hips forward. He meets you mid-way and the friction it creates every time he pushes his dick in between your legs leaves him gasping.

„You’re making me cum, Y/N.” He cries out for the last time before it is too late to warn you.

„Then cum for me, Baby.” 

Obediently, Xiao shoots his thick and heavy load all over your lower body. For a moment the world around him seems out of focus and it makes him dizzy. He pants heavily and can’t catch his breath. He feels as if he was drowning. But then, your loving arms envelop him and he is safe again. You gently stroke his chest hugging him from behind. He melts in your embrace letting his head rest on your shoulder. His erratic heartbeat slowly going back to its usual rhythm.

„I think it looks pretty on you.”

„Hmm?” You want the boy to clarify what he meant.

„The chain... Looks pretty.”

„Oh.” 

Shakily, he reaches out to put your hand into his and he squeezes them together. 

„I’ll never let you lose yourself again, XIao. I love you and I will protect you forever.”

Xiao recognizes the familiar feeling of tightness in his chest. A single tear rolls down his cheek but he hurriedly wipes it before you can notice.

„Shut up.” The boy responds angrily and kisses you breathless. 

Other boys:

Albedo

Diluc

Kaeya

Childe

Zhongli

Kazuha

[whaleofatjme1920]

I don't know if I'm making this on time, but how about a short something with Masky being mad? Just straight up nasty and violent.

Masky's Anger

[GN!Reader]

[Warnings: whatever you associate being mad with? Masky, in the way I write him is violent and not afraid to hurt people. That.]

[AN: I adore this ask. Please, when they open again, send me asks abt these characters going off the wall furious they're so much more fun that romance I swear-. 1136 words <3]

He's been pacing like this for the better half of the hour outside the gorgeously ornate oak doors that you recognize as the curtain to your boss's office. Stomp after stomp, you can hear his boots scuff the wooden floor as he seethes. He's trying to be quiet as to not interrupt the conversation housed inside, but you can tell he's failing miserably. He's ran his fingers through his dark hair more than he cares to admit and you're certain that there are claw marks running up and down his scalp from his nails that he's already bitten off.

From your perspective, he's being a giant, overgrown toddler on the verge of a meltdown for what could be chalked up as a simple mistake. Those happen. You've been in this life long enough to know that yourself. People run. Proxies are no exception. Granted, the reason that this one ran is a stupid reason and the entire team could get wiped out for it. But, you know Toby, and you know he's better than that. His love for that odd woman Clockwork would never surpass the love he has for his master.

Right now, Hoodie is trying to damage control with the Operator. You can hear his slight Southern accent, ragged and exhausted as it is, attempt to explain it. Making promises you know that the four of you can seldom keep just to appease an eldritch being that does not love you.

"Masky," you say as you lift your head from staring at your own boots. "Masky, you need to quiet down to let them talk," you attempt to reason. Gods, you wish Kate was here right now. She'd probably have him down in moments.

"I'll fucking kill him," Masky spits back, barely sparing you a glance. "I'll kill him for even thinking about putting us in this situation," he rambles off angrily.

You sigh deeply. Even with Kate going out there to reel Toby back in, nothing can assuage him.

"Stop it," you interrupt him dryly.

Masky looks over at you, fire burning in his dark eyes. He's not happy, nor does he have the reasoning of Tim behind him. This is fully Masky in control, and he doesn't care how he handles you. There's no reasoning in his gaze, not as he begins to stalk towards you. "You wanna police me on how to act?" He asks in a deep, exhausted voice that's about to boil over.

You know you're not in near enough high standing in this group to question him, but you stand your leader. "I do."

Masky steps closer.

Gods, you're in so much trouble.

You duck as Masky throws his fist at you, rage still burning in his eyes and every step. You continue to dodge him, barely avoiding his fists. He's so angry at you that he's barely saying anything comprehensible other than cussing you out. You find it humorous that the man that seems to respect the Operator the most out of your team is currently committing the worst dishonor by being disruptive in his halls. You back yourself up against the wall and glare at him, watching as he cocks his fist back.

Down!

He's punched a hole in the wall. He swears, loudly at that.

You, not wanting to be soft, slip from under his arms and put him in a chokehold. Your arms flex as you wrap around him, attempting to actually incapacitate him. Harder and harder, you strain as Masky begins to wildly buck.

"Fuck you," he growls as he attempts to wrestle you off, his teeth clashing at your arm, attempting to bite through the fabric of your jacket. It's not like it doesn't hurt, you just don't have to worry about infection right now.

You hiss back and tighten your grip. "I told you to calm the fuck down." You feel your body being lifted as he leans forward, capturing you off balance. You yelp, but keep your hold.

Masky spins around and bashes you back against the wall, his head knocking into the bridge of your nose creating a large thud. Some of the paintings lining this side of the wall jostle from the force of him knocking his skull against your face.

"Masky," you begin as you attempt to push him off, "get off me!"

He smacks his head back on your face even harder, making you see stars. The breath leaves your lungs faster than Toby attempted to run away from the group and suddenly, you're falling to the floor. You land roughly on your hands and knees, blood dripping from your nose onto the Operator's carpet. With the back of your hand, you attempt to wipe if off your face and stop tasting iron.

Masky's still not down from his rage induced high. He's currently coming back at you with one of the chairs from the hallway, lifting the heavy oak thing high above his head.

At this point, he's actually trying to kill you. He didn't even look at you like this during your hazing process.

Your body is weak from him repeatedly bashing his skull against your face, and you're seeing triples. Coughing deeply, you attempt to stand back up to fight back - to stop him for coming down on you with a literal chair. "You're pathetic," you spit as he raises it higher.

Masky's eyes flash over with that same rage you've grown accustomed to within the past hour. "Shut up." The way he says it makes chills run up and down your spine. He's cold, devoid of all warmth and what you recognize as your usual relatively considerate leader. He's speaking to you like he would a victim.

His gloved hands tighten around the legs of the chair. A small, sharp breath in and he brings it down on you, a roar clawing its way from deep down in the back of his throat.

You squeeze your eyes shut and prepare for the impact, gasping at the gust it sends down your way, but pale when you realize it doesn't reach you. Peeling your eyes slowly open, you see the Operator's tendril looped out of his just barely ajar doorway to the chair, moving it out of Masky's hands as if it were nothing.

It makes sure the chair is in its proper spot before tending to the rest of the hallway, even nonverbally lamenting over the hole Masky's fist left in the wall before the cracks smooth out as if they were never there to begin with.

"Sir-,"

'I do not have time for your pathetic excuses. Shut up, and get in here,' the Operator's booming, more than upset voice angrily reprimands through thinly veiled calmness.

The doors to the office opened up wider.

Masky does not help you stand back up.

[artemiseamoon]

Teaser: Damage Control

Upcoming chapter

Fic info ( full chapters only on A03)

Ft. Veronica, Frankie (plus a visit from one of the TF guys)

Warnings: angst, not adultery per se but thinking about it (not condoning, don’t do that in real life folks)

Frankie is facing forward now, in an effort to keep his eyes to himself. Veronica's is watching him, sitting sideways on the stool. He gives in and steals a glance from the corner of his eye, then takes another drink.

"Veronica, I was trying to sort out what happened. Me telling you all that."

"Don't beat yourself up about it, seriously. I'm glad you did."

"Wish I could say the same." He mumbles more to himself than her.

"There is nothing to regret Frankie. I see it this way, " she tops off her glass of wine, "you have that bottled up so deep inside, it was going to come out at some point. Even if wasn't here, or with me. But I'm glad it was me, and that -" she pauses to sort her thoughts, "you let me be there for you. Just for a little while. I think that's worth a boundaries breech." She brings the glass to her lips but stills when Frankie looks at her.

He doesn't know what to say, and he can't pull his eyes away from her either. Silence lingers between them as the prolonged gaze continues. Veronica suddenly gets a sad look on her face, and breaks eye contact first. "don't worry, I'll stay away from you."

"That's not what I'm worried about." Frankie admits. His words bring her eyes back to his.

"What are you worried about?"

"The same thing you are." He answers without hesitation.

Veronica looks away and stares off at the distance, he can see her mind working in her eyes. The next few minutes pass by in awkward silenced, as they both finish their drinks but don't speak.

Frankie knows he should leave, he tells himself to, but he stays. He knows he's asking for trouble, and that adrenaline junkie in him is taking the lead right now.

Veronica is done first. She stands quickly and caps the bottle, then leave it on the counter, along with her glass. She doesn't look at him, or say anything, just heads for the door.

Frankie faces the bar, his head lowered slightly. When he doesn't hear the door open, he glances over his shoulder to see her standing there. Her hand on the handle, but not moving.

"I just need to say something, to get it out - " she looks at him but keeps her hand on the handle, "I’m not an unhappy person, you know. I don’t hate my life or anything, for the most part I love it. I feel blessed. But I'm also lonely, he’s gone so much - "in the back of her mind, she's screaming at herself to shut up, to stop talking, but it's too late now,

"My brother, my friends, none of them live close to here. It's just me and the kids all the time. I'm isolated in this big castle of a house. I got so used to it I didn’t even think I could connect with a new person, then I - guess I connected too deeply."

Frankie’s paying close attention to her, her words, her movements, the sound of her voice. All the while, telling himself not to react, but he's not sure that's working. Everything he's been trying to keep back is clawing at the surface now.

She closes her arms around her body again, "you seemed so - far away, shut down and almost robotic at first. And when we started talking and just- being ourselves it was easy to get used to that, for me. I should have reeled back, I think. I don't know," she takes a breath, "I'm so mixed up about all of this and it needs to be said that, before you, I have never thought about - " she stops herself, unable to stay the rest.

"Never thought about what?"

"Frankie," she sends him a warning look, "don't ask me that. I stopped for a reason."

He sits up, "never thought about what?"

She loosens her arms and leans her back against the wall. When she finally replies, she keeps her eyes on the floor.

"I'm a faithful person, Frankie. Sure, I notice attractive people, but I'm not a cheat. If I'm with someone, I am with them, fully, with all of me. Damon and I, it took a lot to get here, and I love him. I do. I've never had my-" she rests a hand on her chest, " - no one's ever challenged my loyalty before," her voice drops to a whisper, "I've never thought about," she hesitates again and moistens her lips.

Frankie sighs and pulls his cap off. Setting it on the table, he scrubs his hands over his face. He knows he shouldn't push, but he wants to hear her say it. He hates himself for even admitting that.

"Maybe i'm making it all up, I don't know, fuck it. Forget I said anything." She shrugs and grabs the handle again. Frankie is quick to his feet, moving before his mind could tell him no.

He covers her hand with his own, and closes the door, his chest pressing against her back.

"frankie - "

"You're not making it up Veronica," he leans forward slightly, and breaths in the scent of her hair. She smells good, she always does. He's hyperaware of the space between his lower body and hers, if he moves closer, just a hair, that little bit of space, that small barrier, disappears. "Whatever this is, you're not making it up."

More soon. Fic in full on Ao3

More Frankie on my masterlist , scroll down to pedro or triple frontier

[guess-my-next-obsession]

i wanna be yours [part two]

previous chapter: break my heart [part one]

pairing: leo west x reader

warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), unprotected sex, bunch of sappy fluff, just general smut so minors get away

summary: literally just two awkward romantics boning. enjoy!

words: 1,444

tag list: @girl-with-an-orange-cat (let me know who else wants to be added to the tag list)

“God, you’re so hot.” I panted out praises for Leo as he threw his t-shirt off his body, the two of us fumbling around in his suite’s foyer. I had very little to take off, my bikini quickly falling off my body with ease as I pulled on the strings. Leo hummed with appreciation as he took in the sight of me nude in front of him, his focus on stripping momentarily interrupted as he walked closer to me and kissed me deeply. I held onto his wrists as he held me by my neck, our kisses sloppy and needier than earlier.

My hands fell to his boxers as I felt his hard length prodding at my stomach, my fingers dipping inside the band and pulling them down. Leo moaned as my hands found his length, stroking him unhurriedly. His lips pulled away from mine but remained close enough to touch, our eyes opening to look at each other as I continued to stroke him, his cheeks flushing pink. I watched as he sinfully brought two of his fingers to his tongue and licked them before lowering them to my clit, his eyes peering deep into mine as he drew lazy circles around the swelling bud. My body became flushed with goosebumps as he brought me the same painstakingly-slow pleasure that I was bringing him, the two of us seemingly in a game of “who will break first”.

"I can't believe this is happening." Leo whispered against the skin of my neck, and I moaned in response. "I can't believe yer real. I feel like I'm dreaming ye'."

He pulled away and looked into my eyes as he inserted his fingers into me, curling them as he pushed in and out. My jaw fell open at his slow movements, his bottom lip glistening as he swiped the tip of his tongue over it. I couldn't believe he was real, either--or maybe it was that I couldn't believe he was really happening to me.

My brows laced together as I tried my hardest not to fall to the ground, his fingers inside of me and palm rubbing against my clit enough to weaken my knees. Leo and I looked down at both of our hands, my eyes watching as he sped up his pace, my walls clenching as I focused on the wet sound of him entering my over and over again. When I looked back at Leo, he was staring at my hand matching his pace, my thumb wiping the pre-cum off his tip and using it for lubricant.

"Ye' want to move this to the bedroom?" He suggested through a raspy lone voice, his body tensing as my hand slowed down to a stop. Leo looked up into my eyes and chuckled as he watched me nod my head, my arms sliding up his still-clothed chest. "Yer nothin' but trouble."

"You're probably the only person in the world to think that." I cleared my throat before speaking, my throat dry from the moans his hands drew from me. Leo smiled tenderly and ran his hand down my arm until his was intertwined with mine.

"Let's get some water first." He suggested and pulled my naked body along to the kitchen. I flushed pink as I stood in the kitchen fully nude with this stranger, my mind clear for a moment until he flashed me a smile from the fridge. "Yer so beautiful. Can't stop lookin'."

"I want to look at you, too." I walked over to wear he stood pouring me a glass of water, my fingers tugging at his boxers and jeans. Leo laughed and handed me my water, watching with that dimpled smile and head tilt combination that was quickly becoming my ruin. After a moment of eye contact, Leo walked closer to his balcony, opening the glass door and letting in the hot summer breeze. I bit my lip and watched through the windows as he walked outside to the pool, his back turned to it. He lifted his t-shirt of his body and tossed it aside before kicking his jeans off, leaving him only in his tight black boxers. I abandoned my water on the counter and walked to him, my eyes glued to his hands as they peeled his only remaining layer off, his proud length and sculpted body completely on display in the open air.

"Are we even now?" He held his hand out for me as I reached him, nodding as I bit my lip. He chuckled and pulled me in tightly, lightly grazing my neck and back with his fingertips. After a beat, an amused grin appeared on his perfect face. "Don't hate me for what I'm about to do."

"What?" Before I could properly finish my question, we were jumping into the pool. The water felt perfect as I breached the surface, Leo popping up five feet from me. I shook my head at him as he swam to me with a mischievous grin, his hair curling up as the water washed away the styling product. I began to worry about my own hair and makeup as he swept me up into his arms, spinning me around in the water like I was weightless. I giggled and tossed my head back as he spun me, my legs wrapping around his hips.

"Ye' don't feel like a stranger. Ye' feel like someone I've known for years. I don't get it." He confessed as he slowed his motions, pulling me back to him. I tossed my arms around his shoulders and smiled at him, feeling the most authentically myself I'd ever felt with a man. "I need ye' to know...I'm not the type to fuck ye' and never see ye' again. I don't do this sort of thing."

"Hookups?" I asked with a squinted look, my smile still planted firmly on my mouth.

"No, I don't. I prefer to either build something lasting or to just be alone, ye' know?" He spoke so vulnerably with me, no guessing games or facades to hide behind as I studied his eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me you would rather be alone." I promised in a whisper as I lined his hardened length up with my entrance, both of our brows furrowing in satisfied pleasure as I sank down onto him. With a sinful moan, he began guiding me up and down with his strong hands gripping the flesh of my ass. I leaned closer and hugged him tightly as he fucked me deeply, our pace passionate but intentional. He peeled me away from his body so that he could slide his hand between us, his quickly-pruning fingertips stroking my sensitive clit as I held his face in my hands. Our foreheads rested together as we both neared our release, my toes curling at the way the curve of his length targeted all the right places inside of me. "Leo...you feel so good."

"I'm not going to last..." He panted out before kissing me harshly, my breath being taken away for a moment as the tightness in my belly began to build. I slid my hand down to my clit, replacing his in effort to finish myself off quicker. "Fuck, Y/N..."

"I'm cumming...oh my god..." I panted against his shoulder as my chest fell against his. Leo moaned in my ear as he lifted me off of him to finish.

"Fuck!" He moaned again in my ear as he squeezed me close, his chest pounding as his orgasm tore through him.

We stayed wrapped up in each other's arms for a moment, the hot breeze and moonlight creating a romantic atmosphere for our post-orgasmic bliss. I was the first to pull away, smiling as I stroked his face. His cheeks dimpled and flushed pink as he stared back at me, the two of us desperately hoping to freeze this moment forever.

"How easy is it to clean cum out of a pool?" I spoke finally, making him burst into laughter, covering his face in embarrassment. "Maybe tip a little more than usual."

"Stay with me tonight to make sure I remember in the morning." His big puppy eyes could've made me do anything in that moment, water droplets still on his long eyelashes and making them sparkle all the more.

"I'll move in right now, be careful." I grinned at him and kissed him softly. "Will you make me breakfast?"

"Of course I will." He promised with a kiss to my nose.

"No, I meant right now. I'm starving." I gave him an innocent smile, watching as he shook his head with laughter.

"Trouble! Pure trouble."

[twjournals]

The Right Place

This is the third and final part of the trilogy. I can not thank you enough for the endless support. I did not expect to even turn this into a three-parter, but you asked and you shall receive. You guys are amazing!

So Wrong It's Right

What's Wrong is Right

Warning: dark!Peter Parker x reader, dub-con, all characters are of age, pregnancy, abuse, mild non-con touching, violence

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: You're an old troubled friend of May's. Your life consists of being a workaholic, a party animal, and bringing home the shittest of guys for a one-hit-wonder. Just when you get your life in order, you're knocked right back into your old habits. Peter has watched you suffer long enough. He can make it all better.

Taglist: @discoverwhattheworldhastooffer

Your world was in shambles and any move you made to try and fix it only seemed to make what was left crumble. You did not speak with anyone since you had found out you were pregnant, not even May. You did not know what you could even say to her or how you could explain what was going on. You knew she would find out sooner or later, but you had planned on later. You could not even stomach the thought of telling her. It would not be easy and you knew you would probably lose her friendship in the process.

You avoided Peter as much as you could. He always messaged to check up on you, but you would never reply. You were disappointed in yourself. If you had just been the biggest person and moved on, if you had not have gotten drunk, you would not be in this situation right now.

Peter never gave up on you. He had hoped you would come around. That you would understand why your life was going in the direction it was. You needed to get away from the toxicity you surrounded with, especially Chris. You were meant for bigger and better things. You were meant to be more than a housewife. You were to be a mother, a lover, a soulmate. You deserved the world and he wanted so bad to give you it plus more.

You continued to shut him out though. You did not answer his phone calls or his text messages no matter how many times he tried. He sat outside on your fire escape many nights, listening to you crying yourself to sleep. It broke his heart to see you in this situation, but he wishes you would look on the bright side of things. Maybe it was not the greatest timing to have a baby, but it didn't mean your lives were ruined. Sometimes what we want is not always what we need. Sometimes change is required for what we need in our life and you weren't necessarily open to it.

He honestly had tried to give you your space. He stuck to the rooftop above you where you could not see him when you would finally leave the house for work. You always looked so beautiful to him, even if he knew you had been crying all night. If you would just answer his messages, he would not have to go this far.

Peter watched you many mornings on your way to work. He followed your bus all the way to the place he prayed you would never go. He kneeled on top of the building, watching as you stared sadly at the front doors of the clinic. He wished you would turn around. To save him from having to web you down before you got in the building. You were picking at your sweater. No matter the number of times you found yourself standing outside the clinic, you never could bring yourself to even reach for the door.

You were at war with yourself. Peter could tell you fought against the changes, but your heart could not bring you to stop them from happening despite how unhappy you were. It always ended with a sigh and with you proceeding to walk the rest of the way to work. Peter seemed to hold his breath until you walked away.

Work was always a drag now. You had nothing to look forward to anymore but everything in the world to worry about. You stared at your phone as it lay against the computer screen. You rubbed your face tiredly.

You knew it was time to let go of your past. You sighed deeply, taking your phone in your hands and clicking on Chris's old messages. You began typing.

Are you able to come by later?

You noticed he read your message right away. You sat your phone down, still staring at the screen when he responded back.

Of course. Just tell me when, and I’ll be there.

You told him you would message him once you got home. You were sure what time you would get off when it came to your job. You wrote a company and spent the hours necessary to do what you needed to do.

By the time your workday had finally ended, you were having mixed feelings about inviting him over. Being pregnant did not help your feelings from being all over the place. Your thumbs hovered over the keypad on your screen. You were hesitant. Even if he had said he respected whatever you decided, you knew he could not entirely mean that. You quickly typed out that you were home and hit send before you could give yourself time to think almost about it. Maybe you should have thought about it a little longer.

Peter was stuck at school for one of his night classes. He dreaded his night classes now more than ever considering your condition. He had already skipping enough classes due to worrying so much about you. He could not afford to flunk out of school now after all the time and effort he had dedicated already. As much as he wanted to keep an eye on you, he tried to give you room to breathe, to think, and process.

You pushed his bags in the living room by the door, straightening your sweater to keep it off of your stomach. You were not big to others, but to you, you worried if people can tell. You did not want to chance it and certainly not with Chris. You wanted this to go as smoothly as possible.

Your heart almost leaped from your chest at the knock on your door. You slid the chain from the lock and pulled the door open to see his face light up as soon as he saw you.

"Hey there, beautiful."

"Hi." You leaned against the door slightly as you moved out of the way for him to enter.

"I'm so glad you're giving this a second-" He stepped into the apartment, noticing bags of his belongings to the side of him and he grew quiet. "You're not giving me a second chance." He pointed out and you frowned slightly, still standing by the door.

"I think it is what's best for the both of us." Your voice was quiet and calm, but in your mind, it was the hardest thing possible for you to say.

"Is it?" His voice seemed bitter and you looked down at your feet, nodding slowly. Even without looking at him, you could still feel his eyes on you. He turned to face you fully and you hesitated to make eye contact with him.

"It is. I still want the best for you."

"Do you not believe I can change? I don't understand. What can I do to change your mind?" He pressed.

"Please don't think I haven't given this a lot of thought. It consumes my mind to no end. I just need to focus on myself right now."

"Imagine that." It was silent in the room and you glanced at him, only to find him shaking his head with a snicker. "It's not what's best for the both of us. Not for me. This is what's best for you. Can't imagine how I even thought you could be anything but selfish."

"Chris, I just want to keep this civil."

"Good for you." He pulls the door from your grasp and slamming it shut, startling you. "That's all you've ever been, hm? You're gonna have to lose that mindset if you plan on marrying me."

"I don't-"

"You will." He corrected, moving so close you could feel his breath across your face. "I put too much time into this for you to walk away from me."

You swallowed hard. The man who stared back at you was far from familiar. You tried to step around him but he only pushed you back into your place between him and the wall.

"Goddamn it, just get your stuff and go!" You raised your voice and he slapped his hand hard across your cheek. It was strong enough to make you see stars in your eyes. You yelped at the impact and held your cheek as it stung in pain.

"You watch your fucking tone." He stared down at you. He had never hit you before in the years you had been together. He never raised a hand to you, but then again, he never raised one for you either.

You could not imagine how much worse this would get. You left sick to your stomach when he grabbed your chin, tilting your head upright to look at him, stroking his fingers across your stinging cheek as his eyes flickered over your face in thought.

"Truth to be told, I think it's you who needs to change. I put up with so much from you. You had me in the beginning. Thought I was getting this wild, sex-crazed wife, oh, the fun we use to have. The drunken nights." He stiffed a laugh as he let his free hand grab the end of your sweater. "You really had me fooled, didn't you sweetheart?"

You were scared to move. Scared that one wrong move and he would hit you again, maybe worse. You closed your eyes, hoping Peter would answer your prayers. You regretted how much you ever took advantage of his kindness. How long you acted like you never noticed. You had always noticed. You felt his hand push underneath your shirt, and his gaze grazed over your stomach.

You noticed the way his hand froze against the small curve of your rounded stomach and he instantly lifted your shirt to see the problem. Your vision was blurred from your tears as he stared at your stomach with wide eyes. You could tell he was getting pissed.

"Really looks like you've been focusing on yourself." He lets your sweater fall back down over your stomach. His grip was still firm on your jaw, giving you no choice but to look at him. "You have some nerve to leave me. I could bet money it's Parker's. It is, isn't it?"

You could not bring yourself to admit it, but you did not have to.

He shoved your face from his hand, causing you to hit your head hard against the wall as he let you go. "You fucking make me sick."

You tried to keep your sobs quiet, listening to his footsteps moving away from you, listening to him jerking his bags up. "Better it's his problem and not mine." He muttered before slamming the door shut behind him.

You pulled your knees to your chest as you sat up against the wall with a sob. You didn't realize how much you needed Peter until now. You were sure he would have been successful if Peter had not have stopped. You hugged your knees as you tried to catch your breath in an attempt to calm yourself down.

After a moment, you took a deep breath as you pushed yourself to your feet. You let out a whimper quiet, feeling mild cramps in your lower stomach. You frowned as you turned the lock to the door, pressing your forehead against it as you held your stomach from the pain. It only seemed to worsen the longer you stood there. You weren't sure what was going on, but you had a feeling whatever it was, it was not good. You stood like that hoping the cramps would ease, but they never did.

It was close to the end of class when Peter's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out of his phone slightly to see who it was. He glanced up at the professor who had still proceeded with his lecture and Peter lowered his head to answer. He knew something had to be wrong if you were calling him after all this time of avoiding him.

"Y/n? Is everything okay?"

"I think something is wrong." You whimpered quietly and he raises an eyebrow slightly.

"What do you mean "wrong"? Is the baby okay?" He looked up at the teacher who was making eye contact with him now as he talked.

"I don't know." You answered honestly.

That was all it took to get Peter moving. He grabbed his books off of his desk and tossed them in his bag while he scrambled from the classroom.

"It hurts." You rubbed your lower stomach like you always did when you had cramps before. Cramps were normal, but with being pregnant, you could never be too sure what they really meant.

"I know, love. I'm so sorry. Hang tight. I'm on my way." He reassured you as he sprinted out of the building.

---

You lay back on the hospital bed, sighing as Peter ran his hand over your bump in gentle circles. For once, you let him. Your cramps had surprisingly lessened since Peter had shown up, but he did not want to take any chances. It was better to be safe than sorry. He was so worried about you and the baby.

Nurses had been in and out of the room, doing blood work, swabbing, anything necessary to get to the bottom of this. Peter was quiet as he sat on the side of the hospital bed, focused on the massage he was giving your stomach. This was the first time he had touched you since the night you found out you were pregnant.

You could not help back to smile slightly to yourself as his long gentle fingers worked over your skin. He must have sensed your stare because it was not long before his eyes glancing up to meet your stare.

He raised an eyebrow curiously. "Is this okay? I'm not making it worse, am I?"

You shook your head. "It's fine. I'm just watching."

He smiled at you while he continued his massage to your tummy. His eyes looked toward the door when a nurse came in, rolling some equipment over to the bedside.

"Miss. Y/l/n, your lab work should not be much longer. If you do not mind, I would like to do an ultrasound to check on the baby. Is that okay with you?"

You nodded and Peter took his hands back to let her work. She rolled over a chair, taking some gel and squirting some across your lower stomach. The nurse rolled the transducer over the gel and smearing it in as she applied some pleasure in search of a heartbeat. You watched her roam your stomach, biting your bottom lip. Your eyes widened slightly when the sound of the baby's beating heart filled the room. Once the nurse got a clear view, she turned the screen to show you and Peter what she was seeing.

You looked over at the monitor, your heart fluttered slightly at the first sight of your baby. That was your baby, even if it was only a little bean now. You could not stop the smile from forming on your lips. This little bean was life was growing inside of you. This brought a whole new light to your pregnancy. It was like a light had switched on. You did not know how to explain the overwhelming feeling. It felt more real after seeing him or her.

Peter was just as taken back as you. His grin never faded at the sight of your baby. It only made him 10x more eager to be a dad.

"Look at that. Already looks like me." Peter teased and you giggled, considering he or she was not much more than a heartbeat at the moment.

"I can definitely see it." You grinned as Peter rest his hand over yours, sliding his fingers between yours. He brought your hand to his lips before pressing a kiss to the back of it. You watched him kiss your hand and shivered slightly. You did not know what to think of everything at this point.

The nurse checked the baby's heartbeat before turning to the computer behind her and check your lab results with a quiet hum as she scrolled through your charts.

"Well, it seems like everything is just fine. Your baby is certainly healthy and has one of the strongest heartbeats I have ever heard." You looked over at Peter and he only grinned. You could thank Peter for that and all of his spidey senses.

"Your blood pressure was pretty high though and considering your history, your blood pressure has always been perfect. Have you been stressed out lately?" She looked back at you and you nodded slightly.

You were ashamed at how stressed you had let yourself get. "Well, I won't ask for details but if it is anything I can help you with, I would be happy to help. If not, I would stay to keep the stress to a minimum. Your baby does feel anything you feel, so some things can be too much and really take a toll on them." She explained. "Think of this as your baby reminding you to breathe."

You smiled, feeling Peter giving your hand a warm squeeze.

"If your blood pressure does continue to be high, we will see if we can do something to help." You nodded again as she made out some prints of your ultrasound and handing them to you. "If you don't have any questions, I'll let one of the other nurses know and they can keep your paperwork ready for you to go home." She took a paper towel and wiped your stomach clean before tossing it.

With that, she gathered up her equipment before rolling it out of the room with her. You pulled your sweater back down over your stomach.

"Hear that. Now do me a favor and leave all of the worrying up to me." He looked up at you as your eyes stayed glued to your ultrasound prints. His eyes flickered over your face, landing on the bruising mark on your cheek. He reached up, moving a piece of hair back of your face to get a better look. You flinched at the contact. Peter seemed taken back by your flinch.

"What happened? How'd you get that?" You kept your head down with a small frown.

"I invited Chris over to get his stuff. He thought I was taking him back. He didn't take it well." You explained and his eyes widened.

"He hit you?!" You reached Peter's hand as he started to jump up from the bed. "I'll kill him. I swear to you-"

"Peter, please. It's over with now." You assured him, tugging his hand to pull him back to the bed to sit down again. "He's not worth it."

Peter frowned, letting out a deep sigh before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. He did not want to stress you any more than you had already been. "I'm sorry he did that to you. I wish I could have been there."

"Honestly, I needed this. It made letting go of him a lot easier."

"Was that all he did?"

You grew quiet.

"Did he..."

"No, he didn't." You shook your head after he could finish his sentence. "He saw that I was pregnant and left."

Peter tried to keep his composure as his fist clenches out of your sight. He could not imagine how someone could lay a single finger on you with intentions to hurt you. He was quiet. He was trying to hold it together for your sake.

"He didn't say anything?"

You stayed quiet for a moment, rubbing your thumb across the print. "Just that he was glad it was your problem and not his." You shrugged your shoulders slightly. "Even though it's not a problem, I am glad it's you and not him. I can't imagine what it would be like to have a baby with someone that selfish."

His clenched fist loosened at your words and his eyes softened. He could not believe his ears. Were you really saying this?

His cheeks blushed a deep shade of red. "You mean that?"

You smiled at him with a nod. "I do. You're so selfless and care so much about what you can do for others. Even though I've been selfish, you still stuck by my side. I honestly couldn't ask for a better father for my baby."

His smile widened as he looked at you, resting his hand on your small bump. "Our baby."

You rested your hand on top of his with a smile, nodding your head. "Our baby." You agreed.

---

It was not long after that the nurse gave you the okay to leave. Peter had stopped to get you something to eat before he took you home. He wanted to make sure you had been fed. All of the little things like this had slowly pulled you closer Peter. You were not used to how observant and patient he was. As much as you knew how wrong your whole situation was, you could not help but to give in to it. Despite your age, Peter had treated you better than any other guy you had been with. Even better than the one you had been with for years. Peter was the blessing you never knew you needed. He was the blessing in disguise.

He held onto your hand, walking up the steps to your apartment and using the keys to unlock the door for you. He didn't expect you to let him stay. All he wanted was to make sure you were okay before he left you alone.

"Thank you for everything." You looked up at him as you both stood in front of your door.

He smiled down at you. "You don't have to thank me."

"You know I owe you."

He rolled his eyes playfully. "You don't owe me anything. You're having our baby. I consider that payment enough." He teases, his hands resting on your waist. He could not help but touch you. In every possible, he would if he could. Your cheeks blushed at his response, looking down but Peter let his finger hook underneath your chin to tilt your head back up. Your lips were barely an inch apart when the moment was quickly ruined.

"What the fuck is going on here?!" A familiar voice pulled you from your moment, making your heart sink to the pit of your stomach when the realization hit. You did not even have to look over to know it was May. Her face was red in anger when your eyes met hers. "You ignore me for weeks and when I come to check on you, you're smacking lips with my nephew?! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Your lips parted to say something, but no words came out. You did not where to begin with explaining yourself to her. You knew this was all wrong, but it was all too late.

"I thought you were hurt, but obviously, you're perfectly fine." She was fuming.

You never wanted her to find out this way. You wished you had more time to think about it and figure out a better way, but this was it. This was the moment of truth and you were terrified to lose your best friend. You felt tears forming in your eyes and Peter frowned.

"Aunt May, stop."

"Stop?! I'm not going to stop! You're not going to use my nephew so you can get over your worthless ex-boyfriend."

"Aunt May!"

You fought to hold back your tears until you could not anymore. You felt the tears running down your face. As much of a low blow that was, you felt you deserved to hear it. "Peter, i-it's okay." You struggled to form your words. You were hurt, embarrassed, ashamed.

"No, it's not." He shook his head, pointing a finger at May as she stood only a few feet distance from the two of you by her car. "You've gone too far."

"I don't understand how you think this is okay, Y/n." She shook her head, ashamed at you.

"I didn't expect for it to be like this. I didn't mean for any of this to happen." You confessed.

"Just like you never meant for all those one-night stands to happen huh? I trusted you!" She yelled, making you flinch. You hung your head in defeat, glancing at Peter with sad eyes before going inside. You could not stomach the rest of the conversation without sobbing. You tried to calm yourself once you were inside.

"That's enough!" Peter yelled suddenly. "I am capable of making my own decisions. I don't need you to decide what is best for me, Aunt May. I'm not here against my will and neither is she."

"She's supposed to be my friend." She didn't know what to make of this.

"You're supposed to be my Aunt! You knew how hard I crushed over her. For years you knew."

"I thought it was just a crush."

He moved closer to her in the parking lot. It was never just a crush. He was head over heels for you. "I love her. I've always loved her. You're can either respect it or accept it, because it's either way, she's pregnant and nothing is going to change that." He stood by her car.

Her mouth fell open in shock. She did not know what to think. Never in a million years would have thought this would happen, but then again never would have you.

"Pregnant?" Her voice was quiet.

He nodded. "I'm gonna be a dad, Aunt May." He pulled his copy of the prints out of his wallet and showing them to her.

She was at a loss for words. He was right. There was nothing she could do about that. May stared at the prints for a moment, trying to process everything in the short time it had all happened.

"Peter... I don't understand..."

"She almost had a miscarriage today because she's been stressing herself out over Chris. You're not going to take this away from me." He looks down at her, taking the prints back from her." He looked down at her as she stared back with a small frown. "Go home, Aunt May before we both do something we'll regret. You can come back when you're ready to apologize for this." He held the car door open for her and she hesitated before slowly getting in the car.

She knew she was in the wrong for how she had handled things, but Peter did not give her the chance to even risk making things worse. Peter felt deep in his heart despite everything she would come around. She would realize how happy you made him and she would accept it, but for now, she needed to leave.

Peter walked back to your front door, knocking on the door with a sigh. After a few moments, you moved from your spot on the couch to answer the door. You opened it slightly to see Peter and you glanced behind him at May's car pulling out of the parking lot.

"How are you?" He frowned when he saw your red watery eyes.

"I feel awful."

He sighed when you finally let go of the door and he stepped inside of the apartment. He let the door close behind him. His arms wrapped around your body instantly, pulling you against mine as he hugged you, resting his head against yours and kissing the top of it. "I'm so sorry. I know it's hard to believe now, but she'll come around. Just give her some time."

"She was going to find out sooner or later. I expected that reaction. I just wasn't prepared for it right now." You pointed out as your head rested against his chest, letting him hold onto you.

You closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat. You relaxed in his arms. Your eyes were burning from all the tears shed. Peter scooped your body up in his arms bridal style, carrying you down the hall to the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed, sliding into the bed with you as his arms naturally found their way around your waist. Your head fell to his chest as you got lost in your thoughts for a moment.

"I'm starting to think I can never make the right choices." You admitted, laughing slightly to yourself and Peter tilted your head up to look at him.

His lips pressed a kiss to your nose. "Sometimes, the wrong choices bring us to the right places." He assured you before leaning in to close the space between your lips and kissing your lips.

He was true to word. No matter how much you held yourself back, every wrong choice you had ever made in your life brought you to this moment with Peter. This opportunity with Peter to finally get your life right. It was your chance to allow yourself the happiness you knew you both deserved.

End Credits Scene

He was not sure how long he had been sitting with his wrists and ankles restrained to a chair in the middle of a dark room. Maybe hours. It even could have been days. He was not sure. His eyes blinked rapidly to adjust to the light that poured into the room when he finally heard a heavy door open.

"Oh good, you're awake." He was covered in sweat from fear and the heat of the closed-off room. He could make out bits of a red and blue suit. His eyes must have been playing tricks on him. When his eyes finally adjusted to the light, his eyes widened at the sight of Spiderman in front of him. He did not understand what was going on. Spiderman is supposed to save people.

His mouth was covered with solid webbing so he could not speak.

"I'm sure you're wondering why you're here." Peter moved closer to him as he spoke. He leaned down, ripping the webbing from Chris' mouth and making him cry out in pain from the grip it had on his skin. "You see Chris if there's one thing I hate, it's people who hurt the people I care about."

"W-What are you talking about? I haven't done anything."

"Don't play dumb." Peter gritted his teeth underneath his mask, backhanding Chris across the face before gripping his jaw. "You know exactly what you did, but that's okay because it won't happen again. You'll never touch Y/n again. I'll make sure of that."

Blood dripped from Chris's mouth from how hard Peter hit him. "I should fucking kill you for putting your hands on her." He smirked to himself when Chris starts squirming under his grip. "But I won't."

"I won't. I won't touch her again. I swear-"

"Oh, I know you won't." Peter let go of his jaw before backing up towards the door again.

"W-Where are you going? Aren't you going to let me go?" Chris started to panic as Peter pulled his mask off for Chris to see his face. He wanted this to be the last thing he saw if he died and the thing he would definitely remember if he lived.

"I didn't say I was going to let you go. I said I wasn't going to kill you." He smiled and Chris's mouth fell open slightly at the sight of Peter Parker standing before him. "I was thinking we could make a game out of this. I hear you like games. Let's see just how important you really are. I'm gonna leave you here and we're gonna see if your friends succeed with their search party if they even send one out. I can't imagine what they would care about scum like you for, but I guess we'll see. I give you about 48 hours before your body finishes you off itself. That should give you more than enough time to think about what I've said. That's if you do make it and I don't really have faith that's gonna happen, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. I expect you to get the hell out of New York. I promise to you if ever see you again, I'll kill you."

Chris swallowed hard as Peter stood in the doorway once more, the sun outlining his figure at the door. He was scared of the possibility of not being found. He was furious that a guy like Peter was capable of putting him in a situation like this.

"They'll find me and when they do, you're a dead man, Peter Parker." He pulled at the restraints on his arms with all of his might but he did not stand a chance against the webbing. Peter made it look so easy.

Peter grinned at Chris's promise. He loved the challenge. The possibility that even if someone did find him, he would have the pleasure of killing him himself. It amused Peter that Chris could even have the nerve to threaten him in the position he was in.

"Well, let the game begin." He gave a wave as he started to pull the door closed. Chris yelled to the top of his lungs until the heavy metal door ceased his screams.

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

WORK FOR THAT

Prompt: Requested, by a lovely anon. Hope you’ll like it, sweetie

Word Count: Long-ish

Pairings: Rhea Ripley x Reader

Warnings: +18, smut, oral sex, dirty talk

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @sassymox , @waywardwrestlewritingwaif , @yungbludjazz360 , @placeoffreedom

Notes: If you’d like to check out my previous works, you can find them on my Masterlist 😉

“I think she’s into you” Asuka smirked, as she stared at Rhea, who was sitting down in one of the catering tables behind me “You should’ve seen the way she was eating you up with her eyes when you were interviewing Drew earlier” She giggled

“She is something! But also seems like trouble, so uh, no thanks” I laughed

“Come on, Y/N, how much trouble could a one night stand cause?”

“A lot when you know that it probably wouldn’t be a one time thing!”

“Oh” She smirked “And why is that?”

“Do you know me at all? If you think I could ride that face only one time and that’s it, then you don’t know me as much as I thought you did! Have you seen her? She looks like she knows exactly how to eat a pussy, ok?”

“I sure can” Rhea whispered in my ear “And if you ever want a free test drive” She slid a piece of paper on top of the table “Let me know, so I can prove it to you”

She stepped back towards the door, when she reached the doorway, she turned around and mischievously stuck her tongue out at me, the piercing in the middle catching the light

“I fucking hate you” I slapped Asuka’s arm

“Ouch” She dramatically screamed “You’re welcome! And let me know if she means it” She laughed when I got up from the table to go to the bathroom, so I could splash some water on my now burning face

……………………………………………….

My phone buzzed on top of the hotel bedroom’s nightstand

Rhea 😈: Good morning, gorgeous. When will you stop being so stubborn and come here to get that free test drive? 👅

Y/N 🍑: In your dreams, Ripley

Rhea 😈: C’mon, princess… Don’t pretend like you don’t want to 😏

Y/N 🍑: It’s not a matter of wanting, it’s a matter of doing what’s right

Rhea 😈: Exactly! And what’s right is for you to come to room 635 right now and ride my face 👅💦

Y/N 🍑: 🤦‍♀️ You’re no good...I gotta go now, I need to shower

Rhea 😈: Can I join you? You know, just in case you need some help of course 😇

Y/N 🍑: Yeah, that’s exactly why you want to join me 🤥

…………………………………………………

Later that day as I was heading to hair and makeup, I heard someone wolf whistling at me. I turned around to find the blonde and female version of the Devil, right behind me

“You scared me”

“Sorry, princess” Rhea leaned against the wall “I just had the perfect view of your ass and fuck, it looks so good that I couldn’t help myself” She smiled

“You are so filthy” I tried to hold back my laugh

“But you love it, don’t you?” She roamed closer “I know you wanna laugh” She teased “Or at least giggle”

She dipped her head down towards my neck, nuzzling her nose against my skin

“You drive me crazy” She mumbled

“Rhea...” My words died on my lips when her arms circled around my waist and her hands rested against my ass, pulling me even closer to her

“I know you’re playing hard to get, but I’m reaching my limit here” Her hands caressed my ass “I’m starting to wonder if I’m doing the right thing, because it feels like I’m pushing you into wanting something you’re not in the mood for”

“You’re not doing anything wrong” I caressed the back of her neck and let my nails lightly scratch her scalp, which made her growl

“So I’m not overstepping here?” She asked

“No, you’re not”

She lifted her head up, and tightened her grip around my waist

“So you won’t mind if I do this?” She leaned down, brushing her lips against mine, testing the waters but also giving me a chance to pull back if I wanted to.

When she realized I wasn’t going to stop her, she fully captured my lips in a breathtaking kiss. Biting my bottom lip, until it slid out of her teeth. I opened my eyes to find a dumb smile glued to her lips

“Oh, you like me” She teased, kissing my lips once more “You like me a lot” She smirked

“You’re so childish” I cackled, as an intense pink shade took over my cheeks

“And you’re blushing?” She hugged me tightly “You really like me” She attacked my neck with several nips, making me squirm and laugh loudly

“You’re so cute together” We heard Asuka say, as she passed by our side in the hallway

We both startled when we heard her voice “Fuck, I thought it was boss lady” Rhea chuckled

“I know, I almost shit in my pants thinking I was going to be fired” I laughed along with her

“Come get dinner with me tonight?”

“I don’t know, Ree...I don’t like to think someone can take a picture of us together and put it on the internet, just so then people can say that I got this job because of you”

“But you didn’t!”

“Yes, but you know how people are, they just assume things, and suddenly fiction becomes truth, even when it’s the farthest thing from it

“Ok...my hotel room then? We can order some room service, have a chit chat, make out” She growled playfully

“That’s all you want me for?” I teased

“No” She giggled “But I’m not gonna sit here and lie to you either! I feel very attracted to you and would love if we had sex, but that’s not the main reason why I like you”

One of the things I loved the most about Rhea was her raw honesty, she’s always one to tell you the truth, no matter how harsh or sappy it is

“Ok, I accept your invitation”

“Really?” She smiled widely, spinning me around the hallway

“Rhea, you’re gonna make us fall!” I laughed

……………………………………………………….

“It looks fine, Y/N!” Asuka said, chewing on a handful of popcorn

“Right” I rolled my eyes in annoyance, staring at the full length mirror in front of me “It displays my pouch beautifully” I poked my belly

“First of all, you’re beautiful! Stop putting yourself down like that!” She stood up from her bed and stopped by my side “Secondly, you could be wearing a trash bag and Rhea still would think you are the most beautiful woman on the earth! Trust me, I know what I’m saying” She smirked

“You heard her say something?” I asked, hopeful

“I heard a thing or two” She smiled wickedly “But I’m not telling you anything!” She laughed when I scowled

…………………………………………………………

I knocked on her door, already regretting my choice for an outfit (which basically consisted of a pair of yoga pants, with a loose crop top shirt and some sneakers), but before I could run back to my room and change outfits, she opened the door and her whistle was what made me get out of my self deprecation daydream.

“Fuck, you look hot” She smirked

See what I meant about the raw honesty?

Shaking my head while chuckling, I said “Thanks”

She offered me her hand, pulled me inside her bedroom and pressed me against the closed door, kissing me as if her life depended on it

“What happened with the ‘food first, sex later’ rule?” I laughed, as she pulled me towards her

“That was before you showed up at my door looking like this” She smacked my ass “This is your fault, princess, not mine” She hugged me tightly

I stepped away from her, turned around and walked towards the bed, giving her the perfect view of my ass in the light grey yoga pants

Do I know my ass looks insanely good in those pants? Yes!

Did I do it on purpose? Hell yes!

When I reached the bed, I placed myself in all fours on top of it, wiggled my ass in the air and looked over my shoulder at her

“Come, Rhea” I purred, and cackled at the low growl she made

She ran towards the bed, grabbed my hips and pushed me down on the mattress, locking me there with her body weight

“You’re in some big trouble, missy”

“Am I? What did I do?” I batted my lashes innocently

She chuckled “You’re no good, woman!” Her hands dipped underneath my crop top, and grabbed my breasts through the bra “And to think I was worried about corrupting you, when in fact you’re as dirty as I am” Her tongue traced patterns along my neck

“Rhea, please” I moaned

She pushed my pants down, but suddenly stopped to sit up

“Where are your panties?” She smirked

“Oh damn it! I knew I was forgetting something” I smiled devilishly

“Fuck” She panted, dipping her head down to my core

I sighed deeply in content, when her tongue met my clit “You’re so fucking good” I looked down and she winked. My hand quickly grabbed her short blonde locks at the same time she pushed two fingers in

“Oh my fucking -” I pulled on her hair when her fingers inside of me curled and her lips began to suck on my clit

I looked down to find her gaze glued to my face “I’m gonna cum” I moaned “Fuck you’re gonna make me cum so good” I bit my lip in order to control my moans

The next touch of her tongue piercing against my bundle of nerves was what made me explode around her fingers.

Rhea’s fingers and tongue actions became softer and softer as I came down from my high. Smiling, she made her way up, towards my lips and kissing me softly

“Why are you so good at this?” I asked, completely mind blown

“Told you I could eat pussy” She chuckled

“Fuck, I think you ruined me” I panted

“Oh no, princess” She grinned “I’m not even close to ruining you yet”

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