#a general lack of direction? never had that stop me before

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

WAIT TOMORROW IS SUNDAY WHAT THE FUCK

that means i will be gone for a few days btw :] clear my head. hopefully. nothing better for that than being completely off the grid woohoo

[fanfics-with-coffee]

Wants

More ramblings of an insomniac, still not proofread but i wanna throw this out here. We're back on our smut roll as well!

No one really cared what Astarion wanted or didn't want to do. He'd stopped resisting at some point, just letting whomever had higher status overrule him even when it came to his own body. But you, you didn't do that. You never asked him to do something he didn't want. So he asked himself; what did he want? You. He wanted you. Could he have you?

Genre: Smut Pairing: Astarion x (fem)reader Kinks: PiV, little bit of orgasm control, biting, marking, dirty talk Words: 7400+ Need something to listen to? This is what I listened to while writing this: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4XkxtmnNB3RI55o414xpdx?si=ef01f7ab913f4a26

Astarion wouldn’t say that you liked him per se, it’s doubtful you even enjoyed his company unlike how you enjoyed the company of say Wyll or Shadowheart. Yet you couldn’t possibly dislike him either, after all; who let’s a vampire drink from them if you didn’t at least tolerate him. 

“Is he yours? He’s quite handsome, that can’t be a coincidence, you know how to pick them.” Her eyes scanned him, a smile tugging at her lips as he seemed to evaluate his very existence.

“...You mean Astarion? I didn’t pick him, he’s here ‘cus he wants to be. Besides, if I knew him beforehand it’s doubtful I’d pick him anyways.” You replied, arms crossed over your chest.

“Hah! You’re funny, well he’s clearly under your command anyways. Won’t you let me borrow him? I’ve always wanted to be bitten by a vampire you see…” She drew closer, her eyes still looking him up and down. Nausea grew in his belly, his throat closing up.

Astarion wouldn’t say he liked you either per se, you didn’t make yourself the most personable exactly. You were blunt, which he enjoyed, as long as it wasn’t directed at him. Yet you weren’t afraid to speak your mind when he tried to play with you. Every and all attempts to get under your skin was answered with distinct indifference, not full rejection but without skipping a beat you continued whatever line of thought you had started. The most he could pull from you was the occasional laugh at his antics, mocking his clearly practiced recitals of lines he’d used dozens of times on hundreds of other people. You often replied with your own dry sense of humor. Sometimes though, he could swear that your cheeks flushed ever so slightly, but it was hard to tell since these few times were also those when you promptly turned your face away from him, suddenly a lot more interested in a bird or bush. And if he pushed, you were suddenly convinced you heard Karlach break something or Gale needing help with supper. He considered giving up, treating you with the same distance he kept to the other companions, yet you always seemed to gravitate back to his tent, to the spot next to him or simply to wherever he was. He wouldn’t say he liked you, but he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed your company.

“Well, I’m a spawn technically so you know, not a true vampire.” He managed to keep his voice light and comical, a half-hearted attempt at dissuading her, to keep her hands to herself. “Besides, I think I’d like to keep my teeth to myself this time.”

“Mh… Well no matter, you’re pretty enough to make it an overseeable difference. But I didn’t ask you, spawn.” The word was an insult. “I was talking to your commander here, or is it master? I can make it worth your while.”

The bite in your words and the general lack of give to his pushing and pulling gave him a weird sense of comfort. He could spew whatever lines he’d used before, chewed up and spit back out over and over again and you just… moved past them. You were bored by them, but not by him. He felt comfortable telling you about Cazador, about his scars, both physical and mental. You’d never gone too deep, but you had listened and you hadn’t let it color the way you treated him. There was a certain respect to the way you kept him at a distance, he couldn’t trap you under his thumb even if he tried. Yet you stayed besides him.

“Why in the nine hells are you asking me? I told you, I don’t own him, he can do whatever he wants. Mostly anyways. But he seems to be disinterested in whatever you’re offering so.” You didn’t spare him a glance, instead keeping your eyes on the drow woman. You were cautious too.

“Tsk, well if you’re unwilling to barter, I guess I’ll just have to go directly to the source.” She looked annoyed for a second before putting a face of seduction, temptation. She sensually moved her hair away from her neck, draping it over her opposing shoulder and tilting it towards him. She began to walk closer. Astarion could feel panic rise in him, instinctually taking a step back, unsure of what to do. “Come on, spawn, isn’t this what you were born to do? Feed?”

And when he was desperate, hungry and weak that night in the forest, his first instinct was to feed from you. Not because he hated you, far from it. But because he respected you and because he knew that if you found out; you might not judge. He hadn’t been careful enough when he hovered over you, accidentally waking you from your slumber. He had scrambled, fearing that this was it for him. He had slipped up and now any and all trust he had accumulated, though perhaps unfounded, would be wasted and he’d be banished if not worse. Yet you understood. He doesn’t know why, but it seemed like you did. And that night you let him feed from you, despite the pain it undoubtedly caused. And in the morning, you pretended like nothing had happened, like last night was as peaceful as all the others.

Maybe he did like you, just a little bit. You’d at least earned that much. But he had done nothing to earn that same sentiment. 

Yet…

“One step closer to him and I will be the one to spill your blood instead. He said he didn’t want you or whatever it is you’re offering.” 

You had taken a single step to place yourself between the woman and Astarion, keeping her from getting any closer to him. It was doubtful that you’d actually do anything against her in the very center of Absolutist territory. But he wasn’t certain, the way you firmly placed your feet on the ground and the way he could see your muscles tense beneath your armor from this far away told him that you just might. There’s the distinct tension of magic in the air, crackling just beneath the surface of the weave but enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand. It lasts only a brief moment before the drow relents.

“Fine, do as you wish. What use do you have for a vampire that won’t even do something as simple and natural as bite a willing victim? Even if he is a spawn.”

“What reasons I have for keeping him around is none of your damn business. Now did you have anything more interesting to say or are we done here?”

There was nothing else you needed from her and as quickly as things had escalated, it had passed. It was still a couple hours before you decided to call it a day and lead them back to the camp to plan your next move and eat dinner. Astarion hadn’t brought up what had happened with Araj the whole time, yet it kept replaying in his head. If he could dream, he would’ve assumed this was the pleasant relief of sleep. But it wasn’t, you had stood up for him. Not only that, you had kept him from doing something he would regret, because he knows that if you hadn’t stepped in or even asked him to do it… He would’ve. Weak willed as he was after all the times he had broken his own boundaries for others. 

Night in the Shadowlands was somehow darker than the days, despite the lack of sun no matter the time. And as if the darkness could swallow any sound, silence lingered in the camp. Everyone either occupied with their own issues or idly putting their hands to work managing their gear. Astarion had wandered away from his tent and from the campfire, safe thanks to the pixie’s blessing and comforted in the shadows. It was a sense of familiarity that was bittersweet after todays events. 

The air was cold, the breeze rustling the blood red leaves of the few trees that could survive this darkness. The temperature didn’t bother him, he had long ago forgotten how cool the nights got. He could smell the dampness of the earth and of the rotting trees, the smoke of the campfire a vague note beneath it all. He surely smelled of smoke as well, it stuck to his clothes and hair despite how much he tried to cover it. ‘Rugged’ had never been a good look on him, he much preferred the sweet notes of incense and wine. But the worries of everyday issues were forgotten as he let himself fill his lungs with the fresh air.

Crack

The sounds of footsteps brought him back to the moment and he quickly turned around, the thought of a shadow cursed boar or harper still a relevant danger. Instead he was met with a friendly face. A friendly frowning face.

“What are you doing out here? You didn’t even bring a torch or anything, no one knew where you had gone.” You stopped a few meters away from him, half expecting to be able to return to the warmth and glow of the campsite since you had found the lost vampire. A light cantrip had been cast on the crossbow you kept strapped to your back, you always kept it within reach.

“Oh it’s just you, hah I thought I was about to be ambushed for a second. Were you looking for me? Awh you even asked the others where I was, how cute.” He teased, giving you a playful smile before turning his back to you once again. He heard you sigh before your footsteps grew closer.

“You shouldn’t wander off while we’re here.” Your words held no weight, you knew you couldn’t stop him if he was to actually wander away from camp. They were more like an attempt to keep any guilty conscious from getting to you if he did get hurt. But he still liked the thought that you might actually have been worried. “...Are you looking for something to feed on?”

“Around these parts? Gods no, I wouldn’t even touch a dead squirrel with a ten foot pole around here, not after that damned raven. I’ve accepted that I’ll just have to make do until we’re in sunnier parts.” He could feel his stomach writhe at the thought of something to dig his fangs into. He knew you had let him feed from you before but he had never been the one to ask, it’d feel like breaking an unspoken rule.

“Makes sense, those things came out of nowhere. Even the corpses have been cursed…” There's a pause and hesitation to you, an abnormality in your conversations. “Why didn’t you drink from the drow?”

He knew you’d ask, yet his face grimaced at the mere thought of her and her blood.

“Bah, she’s a blood alchemist, who knows what kind of stuff is running through her blood? I’m sure I wouldn’t be allowed to keep anything down if I drank from her.” He quickly recovered from the unintentional show of genuine disgust. “Besides, what’s the fun in a willing victim?” He turned his head to look at your face finally, putting on another playful smile and hoping you’ll take his joke as a response.

You don’t. Instead you cross your arms and raise your eyebrows ever so slightly at him, waiting for the real response. He’s unwilling to give it and instead looks away, gazing down into the valley beneath the cliff you both stood on. 

“C’mon, give me a real answer Astarion.” You lightly bounced your shoulder against his, the casual touch a surprise but not an unwelcomed one.

“Ah, you always have to dig your nose into things, don’t you… Fine, I simply didn’t want to. But that’s no reason to turn down whatever aid she might’ve had…”

“It’s as good a reason as any.”

Silence.

You hadn’t judged him. You just… took his choice at face value. Did you really nearly spill blood on the floor of Moonrise towers simply because he didn’t want to bite her?

“That’s it?”

“...What? Is there another reason you didn’t want to? You should’ve just told me from the beginning then, but go on.”

It’s almost funny how seemingly clueless you are. A dry laugh escapes him.

“No, it’s true. I simply didn’t want to. But you’re just so casual about it! Who knows what kind of powers she could’ve given us? But you decided to threaten her instead, it’s highly unlikely she’ll sell us as much as a health potion or even an antidote from now on.” He waves his hands around, frustrated by your seeming lack of care.

“You said no.” You shrugged.

“I-” He pauses, dumbfounded. “I said no… I didn’t want to bite her and you respected that… You even stood up to her for me, even though you don’t like me. I just can’t seem to understand you.”

You suddenly look just as confused as he did a moment ago, turning to fully face him for the first time since you joined him in the dark.

“...Who in the hells said I didn’t like you?”

“Well… Well no one said it, but I mean it’s not like you enjoy my company. It’s obvious everytime we talk. You don’t even give me as much as a smile when I tell you you’re beautiful, and when I try to playfully ask you to bed you just mock me. Yet you always come wandering over to me and so I try again, I mean why else would you want to talk to me? I may not be a mindreader, darling, but you’re sort of sending mixed signals here. I thought we just acted on the basis of respect here.”

Did you want him to try harder? Or stop fully with his advances? He really didn’t know what you wanted.

“I… Well…” In the darkness, with you backlit by your crossbow, he might be mistaken but there seems to be a blush creeping onto your features. “Didn’t you ever think that maybe I just don’t know how to respond?”

Oh.

Oh.

Aren’t you just adorable? Smugness builds in his chest and he opens his mouth, about to speak but you’re quicker.

“Besides, it’s obvious you’re just a flirt and I… I didn’t like being so affected by someone who isn’t serious. It’s embarrassing falling for something that's so fake, so practiced. So I ignored the flirting, I knew it was just lighthearted fun after all.  And I still like you outside of the compliments and teasing.” You hold your crossed arms even tighter together, unable to look at him. Instead you watch the slow fog rolling across the barren land. Your face lit by the soft glow of the moon just above Last Light Inn.

Astarion hadn’t even had the thought that you simply hovered around him because you… liked him. It was such a simple answer and yet it would’ve been the last thing he could’ve guessed. 

He liked you too.

A lot.

A lot more than he had previously allowed himself to feel. Could he even allow it now? What if he had ruined his chances of something more than… than what already was. The status quo had grown comfortable, predictable.

“I see…”

It’s all he can say. He can see that it wasn’t what you had hoped he’d say even if you weren’t looking at him.

A moment passes in silence.

There’s a look on your face suddenly, it looks almost pained or embarrassed, maybe it was both but just as quickly as it had flashed over your features it was gone. You let out a sigh and let your arms fall to the side, turning away from the outlook, clearly about to leave.

“Well that was… the worst. Anyways, I’m heading back to camp. Take your time, I’ll make sure there's supper left for you when you come back.”

Astarion realizes in a heartbeat that he was allowed to want something more.

You don’t even get one step away from where you stood before a hand grabs your arm with unnatural speed, holding you back from moving any further away. You nearly jump out of your skin by the motion, staring at the rogue. His face and eyes now lit by your crossbow, his eyes are wide as he watches you like prey. A shiver runs up your spine, he’d never looked at you like this before.

“Earlier today, when Araj asked you to let me bite her, you said I could do whatever I wanted.” His eyes don’t leave yours and there's something about their intensity that makes your cheeks heat up.

“Mostly, anyways…” You repeat what you had told Araj.

That seems to have been all the confirmation Astarion needed, suddenly closing the gap between you as he takes a step closer and pulls you into him. You catch yourself on him, the sudden movement taking you by pure surprise. Before you can register what has happened properly, his other hand has grabbed your chin in between his thumb and forefinger with a firm grip and tilted your head up to face his. His unnaturally cool breath hits your lips as he’s leaned in, inches from yours but he stopped there. You’re trapped in his presence, it’s overwhelming in a way you always tried to avoid. But you wouldn’t dare move now, afraid to ruin whatever was happening.

“Then I want to kiss you…” His words are low, soft even.

“...I’d like that…”

In an instant his lips hit yours, soft and velvety. They feel just like you had thought so many times when you’d watched him talk. They’re cool compared to yours, something you hadn’t thought about but it somehow made everything feel so much more alive. Every soft stroke of his lips against yours was vivid as they parted and pushed up against each other, over and over again. The hand that had grabbed your face had smoothly slid to the back of your head, making sure he had you where he wanted you. The other hand had left your arm and was pulling your body against his, keeping you as close as he could physically keep you.

Astarion pushed into your body with a want, a need and a hunger you hadn’t ever seen him exhibit before.

He pulled away from your lips too soon. You didn’t realize how much you needed air before it filled your lungs abruptly in a labored breath.

In the glow of the moon and your makeshift light you could see his face. He was smiling at you, his fangs just barely peeking out from behind his lips. His eyes weren’t as wide anymore, instead crinkled at the edges from his smile but the look of predator remained in them still. He needed you.

“You taste divine, my dear.” You try to scoff, the comment was stupid in relation to simple kisses after all. But you don’t get much of a chance to react to his flirtatious attitude before he’s leaned back in, this time hovering over your neck with his mouth. His nose nudges the underside of your ear as he keeps your head still with the hand still firmly holding the back of your neck.

“But I want to taste your blood, if you’ll let me.”

Goosebumps spread down your arms and your breath catches in your throat. The hidden meaning of what he’s asking of you isn’t lost, not after today’s events. He wants your vulnerability, your submission, your blood. You had always been the one to tell him when he could feed from you, now he’s asking directly to do so. He wants to see your trust in him. That even when he’s a starving animal, he won’t hurt you, won’t take more than he needs. 

And he wants to show you how much he wants you.

His teeth graze over the soft skin of your neck, waiting for you to give him the sign. You nod.

His teeth pierce your skin, familiar pain shoots from the bite. You clench your teeth for a second before you relax, letting out a shaky breath. The pain dulls with his hands slowly starting to roam your body, one carefully tangling in your hair as he brings it up. He takes a soft grasp on it, using it to meaningfully guide your head to the side and giving him more space to drink from you. You don’t provide any resistance, all hesitations towards his advances were being washed away with each wave of pleasure and pain.

There’s no rush to him, no tension as he takes his time to enjoy you. Instead of the usual controlled and precise way he usually fed from you, when you both believed it to simply be an act of survival. Now he lets his tongue lap over the wound, the odd feeling of your hot blood and his cool tongue intermingling against your skin. He momentarily leaves the spot to kiss up your neck, intentionally letting your blood drip down and leave a trail as you shudder from the pleasure. His body is still firmly pushed against yours, his free hand carefully sneaking under your shirt to push against your bare skin. He’s pulling you against him and you've realized there's a rhythm to it, a slow and teasing tact to his grinding. It feels good, being so enveloped in him. When he feels ready again, he dips down to lick up the strip of scarlet that had formed, finishing with an open mouth kiss back where he started. The sharp inhale you make is punctuated by a soft moan, giving away your feelings and you realize you’ve been caught enjoying this maybe a little too much.

Embarrassment burns through you as Astarion pulls back to watch your face, a chuckle rumbling in his chest and spilling out between his lips, putting fuel to your fire.

“Now wasn’t that just adorable, I never expected you to make such cute sounds. Why haven’t you let me hear those when I’ve fed from you before?” He’s messing with you, a playfully mean glint to his eyes.

“You know why.” You say defiantly.

“Maybe…” He pretends to think about it, leaning back into you to place soft kisses along your jawline. The hand in your hair keeps you in place as he does. “But I want to hear you say it.”

“It feels good… this time…” You whisper but you know he’s heard you by the way you feel him smile against your skin.

“Is that so? I didn’t know you were such a masochist but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, who else would be so turned on by being bitten by a vampire.” He mocks you, the way he laughs leading to even more embarrassment and frustration coursing through your body. Partially by the way his laugh makes desire shoot right to your core.

He’s mean but it somehow turns you on even more, though you’d never tell him that. This is what you were trying to avoid after all, being so easily wrapped around his finger and put under his control. A part of you is still fighting his control and you try to step on his foot as payback.

Your foot only hits soft dirt as he quickly moves his own. Suddenly the grip in your hair is tightened and he pulls your head back further, forcing you to stare into his eyes directly. You’re scared that you were going to be met with anger or even hurt over your sudden and involuntary rejection. Yet all you’re met with is delight when you look into his eyes, his heavy breathing filling the night air with the smell of blood. 

“There it is, I always did enjoy the way you pushed back. I was worried you’d have gone soft on me.” He seemed ecstatic by your actions and you flushed again, he really did like it. “But just to make sure, darling… What do you want?”

For a moment you’re frozen, your head spinning from everything happening and partially from the blood loss. Not to mention the blood that had pooled somewhere further below. Yet worry brewed in the back of your mind and without thinking you blurted something out.

“What do you want, Astarion?”

You needed to know that this was what he wanted, despite him having taken the main lead, you wanted to make sure he had an out and that your own desires wouldn’t shackle him too.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re too considerate. But I strongly believe we want the same thing right now.”

“I want you.” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could think again and Astarion drank them up like wine spilled from the bottle.

“That’s what I thought,” he kisses you again, the taste of iron still fresh on his lips. “I want you too, afterall.”

His kisses distract you as his skillful fingers leave your hair and skin, instead grabbing the buckle of the crossbow holster that was strapped across your chest. He can't seem to keep his mouth quiet while he does it though, not that you should expect Astarion to be able to keep his mouth from running.

“I want you below me, I want to hear you gasp and cry out in pleasure…” He’s breathless, wrangling the strap of leather over your head, mindlessly chucking the crossbow somewhere nearby. The light still reaches you two, if just barely. Darkness claws it’s way closer, you pray it’s enough to keep you hidden away from wandering companions who wonder where you’ve gone. “I want you exposed and naked, darling, I want to dig my teeth into places only you and I will see.”

His fingers dig the rest of your tucked shirt out of your pants, his nails pleasantly scratching against your skin as he grabs bunches of the fabric and pull it up over your head as well. The cold air is suddenly intruding on your warm skin and you gasp. Astarion is quick to place his lips onto the newly exposed skin, placing kisses across your collarbone and to your shoulder.

“I want to feel your warmth against me, I want you to take me as you dig your nails into my back. I want to push you down just to feel you push back.” Your hands find purchase on his shoulders as his own hands grab your behind, using the leverage to once again pull you in close. You can feel the hardness that had grown between his legs. He keeps going, talking in a daze in between the kisses. You don’t know if he’s drunk on your blood or just aroused, maybe it’s a combination of the two. He’s grown warmer to the touch thanks as your blood reinvigorates him. “I want you to feel me, feel every thrust as I ruin you. I want to tease you until you cry, I want to punish you for holding back on me this whole time. I want you to feel what you’ve done to me.”

You don’t get a moment to respond to him, you don’t even know what you could say. He takes your hand in his as he helps you both lower yourselves to the ground, the grass tickling the palm of your hand as you find purchase. He pushes himself over you, his knees firmly placed between your thighs, still holding your hand to push you down until you're laying below him.

“I want you to want me, just as I am.”

There’s a vulnerability to his voice and his eyebrows knit together ever so slightly as he takes a moment to take you in. You look up at him, his white curls a little more messy than when you arrived and his lips a little more flushed. The moon is still high in the sky and though not as bright as usual, it’s enough to shine down on him and he looks… Ethereal. 

You take the pause in the flow to heave yourself forwards, pushing back and he lets himself fall back to sit on his knees as you kiss him again, slightly surprised. 

“I do, Astarion, gods be damned I do.”

You can’t take it anymore, he’s still fully dressed and you're desperate to see more of him and tired of being the only one exposed. Your hands grab at his shirt, messily working it out of his pants with a furrowed brow. A smile grows on his face and he laughs at your clumsiness before deciding to help you out. It only takes a moment for his own shirt to be discarded in the grass somewhere nearby. 

“You’re so forwards, did I really rile you up so much? I thought you didn’t like it when I ran my mou-” You interrupt him with a forceful kiss and he doesn’t hesitate to lean into it. Your hands finally touch his bare chest, letting your nails lightly scratch his skin as you run them further down. You feel him shudder.

“I like hearing you talk and you can run your mouth for hours but…” Your breaths are heavy as your hands reach his thighs, softly grabbing his legs. “I need you to touch me while you do it…” You’re trying to be bold but the desperation seeps through your voice and you look up at him through your eyelashes, unable to fully face him.

“Shit… Aren’t you just perfect? Who am I to deny you what you need…” He gives in to you, pushing you back enough to let him untie the lacing on your pants. It only takes a moment of shuffling until he’s rather expertly slid your pants off of you, leaving you in your undergarments. His hands grab your knees and part them enough for him to settle back inbtween them before they slide up your thighs. You're already working on the lacing at the front of your bra, pulling and tugging on the ribbons hurriedly. It gets even harder when Astarion decides he wants to taste you again, his lips finding your neck and hungrily licking for the taste your blood as left. He’s sucking hard enough that you’re rather certain there will be a bruise in the morning but you don’t care enough to reprimand him now. 

“Having some issues there, darling?” He teases as he feels you continue to loosen your bra, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh.

“No, it’s fine, ah! There, I got it!” You finally get it loose enough to pull over your head but Astarion doesn’t waste any time. As soon as you’ve managed to get it above your chest, his mouth has found your breast and taken a nipple inbetween his lips. Your reaction is instantaneous as you arch your back into him with a loud gasp, your arms freezing above your head with the bra still tangled between them. 

His cold tongue swirls around the bud skillfully and you're sure you can almost feel his fangs grazing against the sensitive skin. You're unable to keep quiet and even when you purse your lips together, the sounds betray you. But Astarion prides himself on his multitasking, one hand finally reaching below the edge of your panties. You’re already drenched thanks to his previous actions.

“My-my, you’re soaked. How often have you imagined this? Everytime you’ve let me feed from you? Everytime we’ve been alone together? Or just when I’ve put the thought in your head, hm?” His fingers slide between your wet lips, slowly spreading them as a finger found and began to circle your clit, not quite touching it.

“It’s not like tha- ah!” He doesn’t let you finish, instead taking the moment you opened your mouth to slide two fingers into you, curling them ever so slightly.

“What did you say?” He mocked confusion, continuing to slowly thrust his fingers into you.

“I… I haven’t…” You manage to get out between moans and heavy breaths, your brain going into overdrive trying to focus on what you’re saying. Astarion clicks his tongue and suddenly his free hand has pinched your nipple inbetween two fingers and his thrusting has gotten quicker.

“Lying is a sin, didn’t you know that my dear? Are you afraid of hurting me? Here I was, hoping you’d think of me daily. The thought of you touching yourself just because of my bite would simply delight me.” He rolls your nipple inbetween his fingers and you can’t think anymore, all you can do is roll your hips against his hand and writhe underneath him. “Come on, confess to me, beautiful.”

“I…” You struggle to formulate any sentence but his attention doesn’t falter, instead he looks like a cat whose playing with a mouse. He shifts his body so your leg hooks over his thigh, pushing further up as he keeps pumping his finger into you. The new angle lets him hit that spot you can never quite reach yourself. The closer you get to formulating words, the quicker he goes until the lewd sound of his hand hitting your soaked pussy is all that can be heard. You’re getting so close. “Fuck- I have, I-I’m sorry-”

Suddenly he laughs, loudly and with a sharp edge of ridicule. His hand slows to a near stop, simply pushing and curling his finger as he grinds the palm of his hand into your clit, keeping you close to that edge of cumming. You’re dazed and confused when you look at him, why is he laughing?

“Oh you are simply a riot, you sweet thing.” He smiles too kindly as he pulls his fingers from you, leaving you clenching around nothing. He leans back as he sucks your juices from his fingers and push yourself up on your hands.

“Did I say something wrong?” You’re nearly panicked, worried you messed up and told him too much.

“No, no, not at all. The opposite actually.” He gives you a grin that clearly shows off his fangs.

“T-then why..?”

“You were close to cumming on my fingers, right?”

You nod, dumbfounded.

“I don’t want you to.”

“Huh? W-what, why?” Your brain is still hazy and you can’t think straight, his confusing answer didn’t make it easier for you either.

“Simply didn’t want you to.” You consider that maybe you did this to yourself, teaching him the power of simply refusing. You wanted him to have agency, but in this very moment you also wanted to cum. You wanted him to want you to cum. You can only guess that you looked especially conflicted because you were pulled from your thoughts by Astarions laugh again. When you look over to him, he’s untying the lace of his own pants. “Okay, no, I didn’t want you to cum on my hand because I want you to cum on my dick, simple as that actually.”

“Oh you’re such an asshole…” You mutter under your breath but his grin tells you he heard you as he pushes his pants and underwear down his legs. You take the moment to pull your own panties off.

“Ah, did you want to cum at all tonight, pet?” He threatens playfully as he finds his place between your legs but whatever reply you had died in your throat as your eyes land on his cock. You had imagined it before yet embarrassment had kept you from thinking of any details, yet there it was. Hovering over you, Astarion used one hand to hold himself up, the other softly tracing up your thigh as he took in your reaction and in turn observed your beauty. You laid beneath him, bare and vulnerable. Trusting and turned on. Just like he had wanted you. “Hm? Cat’s got your tongue? Come on now…”

He leaned in, kissing your lips once before once again lavishing the skin of your neck in open mouth kisses and playful nips that had you jolting under him. His cock just barely rested on your pussy lips as he slowly and softly moved back and forth.

“Fuck… Ah…” You sigh in pleasure but it’s not enough to satisfy Astarions ever growing need to embarrass you.

“Words, darling, use them. What do you want?” he whispered against your skin, pressing his cock further into the softness of your cunt with the base of his thumb, slowly fucking the space between you and his hand. Your slick coats him and he can’t help but sigh in relief. “Tell me, or I’ll just use you like this until I cum and leave you as you are.” It’s a threat without any truth, but it’s enough to push you to speak up.

“Maybe you should just… Shut up and fuck me, Astarion.” Your hand grips his hair, pulling it enough to guide his head back up to meet your eyes. The spark of your rebellion to his teasing thrills him to no end. “I want you to fuck me, is what I’m saying.”

Lips and teeth and tongue suddenly clash as he presses his mouth to yours. It’s messy and rough, you bite his lip and he moans. Your arms wrap around his neck. He finally guides himself to your opening and pushes the tip in. You both shiver, momentarily pulling away to whimper. And then all at once, Astarion pushes the rest of himself into your heat and you feel divine. You're forced to pull away and the feeling makes you drop your head back as you take a sudden, sharp inhale. Pleasure crashes over you and just as you feel like you can recover, Astarion is already ahead of you and starts to thrust. Whatever recovery you thought you could get is quickly washed away as moans and whimpers are all the things you can utter in that moment. His desire and desperation can be felt in the pace he quickly falls into, his mouth finding your breast once again but this time his earlier control seems to be gone. He bites into the soft flesh, his fangs sinking into your skin and you gasp. The pain and pleasure is overwhelming, the signals getting mixed up and all you know is that he feels good.

You lost count after the first three bite marks Astarion leaves on your body, you weren’t even sure if all of them broke skin or would leave any marks but surely some were. The thought crossed you, of meeting your companions when morning light comes and the view of the marks up and down your neck. And you, who had worked so hard to keep your attraction to Astarion pushed so far down, suddenly it’d be obvious you’d become his plaything. And yet the thought made you clench around Astarions cock, ecstasy taking over whatever shame you had just felt. 

Your peak was quickly building back up, and you repositioned your arms to grab around his shoulders and up his back. Letting your nails dig into his marble skin just like he had wanted.

“Hah, to believe you’d take me so well… Especially after all that grandstanding about- hah, fuck… not falling for the sweet things I say.” The smugness in his voice was annoying yet you felt your core tighten even harder at them. You dug your nails even harder into his back in response and you felt him stutter in his pace, a pleasured whimper slipping out from under his breath. “Shit,  yeah just like that, sweet girl.”

Of course he’d like it. You hide your face in his neck, unable to do anything else. You’re getting so close again.

A hand pushes inbetween you two as Astarion slips his thumb where you two are connected. He quickly finds your clit and presses down.

“Come on, I want you to cum on my cock… I want to push you over the edge, watch you cry out in pleasure…” You’re both dazed as he starts to rub your clit. Your back curves and you gasp, letting go of Astarion as you push your hands into the grass over your head, gripping it. “That’s it, cum for me, beautiful.” 

The last thing you register is his smile and his fangs glinting in the moonlight as you finally tip over the edge. You're flooded with white, hot pleasure as you screw your eyes close and arch your back off of the ground. Astarion doesn’t stop, his thumb relentless as he rubs you through your orgasm. He’s pounding into you, fast and rough but as you keep clenching around him he can feel how he’s losing himself. You’re still riding your high when his hands hit the ground on either side of your head and you can barely register his face as it hovers above you. He’s breathtaking, mouth slightly agape and eyebrows scrunched together. You see his white eyelashes as he closes his eyes, fully focusing on how good you feel around him. His pace becomes an uneven mess fueled by a frenzy and his feral need for you. Each hit of his cock against your inside sends another intense wave of pleasure bordering on pain and you take it, whimpering.

And as he pushes into you as far as he can the scales finally tip and he cums, flooding your insides with his cum. You can feel the pulsing inside you as he collapses over you, you both breathing heavy and slowly coming back down from your highs. 

It takes a minute before you're both in any condition to move, using the little energy you had gathered to roll over to your sides, facing one another. There's a comfortable silence as you let whatever happened to tonight soak in. Astarion is carefully watching your face, looking at the myriad of marks he’d left on your neck without even thinking. He never left marks usually, the proof of the nights spent with others made him nauseous. But his brain had been telling him that he should… that he needed to. He wanted you, after all. Reaching out with his hand, he carefully traced one of the bite marks. Your eyes suddenly widened.

“By the gods- What in the hells am I going to tell Shadowheart…” You groaned and hid your face in your hands. Astarion raised an eyebrow.

“...Was there something between you two I had just missed? Cus in that case I might not be able to come back to camp for a while.” He joked.

“No, no not that. I had just… mentioned to her that I wasn’t falling for your stupid flirting and how it was obvious you liked to fuck around and I just… Didn’t want that to be me. I’m pretty sure I called you annoying as well.”

Astarion once again laughed at you, the fact that you would both be facing a very judgemental Shadowheart was very amusing to him. He’d rub it in her face if he could, but the hickeys and bitemarks on your neck was probably enough.

“But now that is me… Ugh.”

“... You know I didn’t bed you just because I could, right?” Astarion spoke up, awkward in his approach.

“Well yeah the whole ‘I want you’ thing was pretty consistent. But what do you want with me?” And there was that straightforwardness he always found a little intimidating.

“I… I don’t know, but I want you. That’s all I know.” He studied your face before turning to lay on his back and look into the starless night. “Do I have to choose what that means now?”

“...No. Just… Tell me when you know I guess.” You shrug and turn to look at the sky as well. 

“Can I want you to come closer?” Astarion spoke into the night, his voice barely heard over the breeze in the trees.

You don’t answer, just shuffle closer to him, putting your head on his shoulder. He smiles, it felt nice having someone close even after you were… done.

“Though we shouldn’t stay here too long, I’m pretty sure I have grass up my ass crack and it’s colder than the hells out here. Sorry but you don’t exactly help either.”

“Oh aren’t you just charming, didn’t you ever learn some manners?” You both laugh and the shadowlands feel a little less… bleak, at least for tonight.

[serosluv2]

obsessed bf x pretty gf trope hcs w sero & shoto pls & ty 😁😁 (seperately pls)

It’s only 7 months late but here u go anon 😘

a/n: I wrote this in an hour in the bathtub so if it is shit- don’t tell me bc I’m just getting back into writing 😭😭

Shoto Todoroki

He fits this trope so well.

He is THEE resident pretty boy of UA so it makes perfect sense that he has the prettiest girl in all of Japan. (The world)

He is the teeny weeny ist bit dense on like how to take proper photos of you for the ‘gram but trust that he WILL be searching up everything about lighting and angles and exposure and zoom- all that nonsense.

If you’re a social media girly he may leave like one or two comments. He isn’t the best about being outwardly obsessed with you, he is all about those private small moments. Not being able to take his eyes off you anywhere. Always needing to be beside you. If he can’t be with you then trust he is texting you at every free moment and expects a response within 5 minutes.

He loves shopping with you and helping you pick out outfits or jewelry or how to style your makeup that day. He has no real opinion on what looks better tho he just loves seeing you get all prettied up. (Yk that tiktok where the girl is trying to decide on a dress color and her bf is just like “wtv u want mama u look breathtaking in both” ?That’s him.)

I feel like he doesn’t really buy you anything in the beginning of your relationship bc he doesn’t really see the point/value or something in that BUT all it takes is for kaminari to get you some product you’ve been wanting for a while for secret santa and seeing how touched you were by the gesture sends him into over drive:

“OH MY GOD! KAMI!!” You exclaim- wrapping your arms around him. “How did you know? I’ve been looking for this everywhere!” Shoto notices how big your eyes got and the slight blush on your cheeks from excitement and he feels, something unpleasant. Jealousy? Envy? Possessiveness? Whatever it is he doesn’t like how grateful you’re acting toward the blonde. I mean sure, he got you something nice you’ve wanted but that’s not his job (he just so happened to get you for secret santa so he kind of had to get you something) he’s not your boyfriend only your boyfriend- HIM- should be gifting you stuff. Then he kinda has a “ohh.” Moment and realizes he has never really gotten you anything just because.

Anyways after that whole interaction he is getting you anything and everything you look at for more than a second. You keep looking at some necklace at the store? Bought. He sees you liking tiktoks about girls getting flowers? Now you’re getting a bouquet every date night. Does he himself have money? No, but that No.1 hero daddy sure does. And let’s be honest he kind of owes shoto for making his childhood - for lack of a better word- awful.

In conclusion, Shoto loves his pretty girl and will do anything she asks of him without question.

Hanta Sero

Clawing at my cage for this man.

Now sero has been… infatuated with you since he first laid eyes on you one faithful morning. You were ordering at some coffee shop he passes by on his way to school and just one glance had him stopped dead in his tracks. The way your hair framed your face perfectly, your face in general because holy shit- you were gorgeous. Straight out of a magazine. He quickly took notice of the little embellishments you made to your uniform.. uniform? The same one Mina has. OH MY GOD YOU GO TO UA AND HE HAS NEVER SEEN YOU BEFORE?

He literally cannot stop thinking about you and boom you appear again in the halls. Your going the opposite direction has him with your friends and he sees you all have a little cafe cup. Did you buy them all a drink before class? So you’re stupidly gorgeous and nice. Great, he, for sure, has no chance with you now.

But oh that’s where he is wrong.

When you guys start dating he actually cannot believe it. He is very guarded at first because- now it’s my personal hc that sero is a bit insecure- he can’t fathom how you, YOU, would actually want to date someone like…him.

But once those walls come down he doesn’t shut up about you. Seriously all his friends are so annoyed:

“Good god soy sauce if you mention your little girly friend again I’m hurling you across the city.”

“You’re just mad you don’t have a girl as pretty as mine- don’t worry baku-man, I’m sure one day some poor person will take pity on your soul.”

Sero did in fact get hurled across the city that day.

Now where he differs from Shoto is that this man is a GOD with a camera. He has that artistic eye and is able to capture you being your baddest/cutest/authentic self.

Literally ya’ll

He also has a good sense of style. He never thinks you look bad in one thing versus another but he will take into account the vibe of where you’re going and what’s you’ll be doing and give his opinion based on that. Because he grew up with sister and knows how to get around the “which one looks better?” Type question without hurting you.

Now sero doesn’t have money to spoil you senseless but what he does have is the forever lasting instinct to put your comfort above his own. It’s freezing and you didn’t wear a jacket because “a hoe ever gets cold”? Don’t worry sero will give you his and be visibly growing icicles on his body to keep you warm. Feet hurt from those impractical shoes? He’s caring you all the way home even if he is still terribly sore from a killer arm workout the day before with kirishima. A no a mudy puddle and you’re wearing your new white shoes :(! Well sero is laying his jacket down over it or simply caring you over the puddle. He isn’t the type to roll his eyes at how “ridiculous” or “spoiled” you’re being. You are y/n freaking l/n. He’ll do whatever you need to make sure nothing in your life goes wrong.

He also is the type to spam comments in your TikTok or Insta post and makes all his friends do the same. Not that you need it- he just loves fueling your ego.

[livwritesstuff]

for @steddie-week day 5 | exes to lovers

fully and completely inspired by @emchant3d's divorced dad's post [x] from a few weeks ago bc i did not once stop thinking abt it

tags: modern day, artist!eddie, finance guy!steve, steddie as rich gay divorcees, sort of an accidental parent trap situation

They were too young, Steve thinks in retrospect – married at twenty-three, their daughter born when they were twenty-five, and then divorced before his twenty-seventh birthday.

He gets to think retrospectively because in a few years it’ll be a full decade since the papers for that last bit got signed. Now, Steve is thirty-four and sweating his ass off in a red polo and crisp jeans, the stiflingly hot July sun beating down on him as he scans the perimeter of a crowded playground for a familiar head of curly brown hair – not his nine-year-old. He found Rosalind already, wreaking havoc on the jungle gym. No, he’s looking for his ex (-husband, technically, but Steve usually stops at ex; the -husband part just makes him sad these days).

It’s custody swap day, which is either his favorite or least favorite day of the week depending on who the swap is favoring.

Today it’s favoring him which is why he’s slowly making his way around the edge of a playground in Bushwick, keeping an eye out for his ex, Eddie.

“Steve,” he hears from somewhere behind him. Steve turns towards the sound and sees not that curly head of hair he’d expected. Eddie’s hair is completely buzzed (which, for the record, was not the case last week when Steve dropped Rozzy off with him) and he’s wearing a paint-splattered white t-shirt tucked into old jeans and all that combined is making it reeeally hard for Steve to pretend he’s not crushing hard on the guy he divorced eight years ago.

“Dude,” Steve started, eyeing Eddie’s hair (or lack thereof) as he made his way to the section of fence that Eddie was occupying, “What–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie rolled his eyes, “Rozzy already hit me with all the good zingers so you’re too late.”

“No, I don’t –” Steve stopped, “It’s…not a bad look, just…you know. Why the change?”

Eddie looked away.

“Long story,” he replied as Steve remembered (yet again) that he doesn’t get full access to Eddie’s world the way he used to.

Luckily for Steve, Rozzy runs up to them and spares him from having to figure out a response for that.

“We should get pizza,” she says. Steve’s eyebrows fly up.

“We should get pizza?” he repeats.

“Please,” she adds, her eyes shining, “At Dad’s? And we play Mario Kart? Dad said I’m getting good at 200!”

“He said that?” Steve asked, and he glances over Rosalind's head to see that Eddie is making a so-so gesture with his hand.

He’s never been all that good at saying no to his daughter (or anyone), so it doesn’t take much more convincing on Rozzy’s part for the three of them to head off in the direction of Eddie’s loft, with a pitstop planned for the pizza shop down the block.

They actually have a nice time.

It’s true that Rozzy is getting better at 200cc – good might be a bit generous, but Steve’s fine with that (he doesn’t know if his ego could handle getting crushed by a fourth-grader).

Just as they’re finishing their second grand prix (the Star Cup, because Rozzy likes the dolphin race), one of the other kids in the building knocks on the door and invites Rozzy over for a sleepover, which Steve agrees to because he remembers the illicit kind of joy in a summertime Monday night sleepover.

Eddie doesn't show Steve the door after Rozzy's gone. Rather, he pulls a bottle of wine from the fridge – an expensive Sémillon he says was given to him by a client.

“So the art biz is still going well, I assume,” Steve comments as Eddie pulls two vintage wine glasses out of a cabinet and pours them each a healthy serving.

Conversation about work manages to sustain them through the first few glasses (Eddie actually remembered that it’s been just over a year since Steve left his dad’s Fortune 1000 for a CFO position at a marketing company that had just graduated from small to midsize status). They work through the second quarter of the bottle talking about Rozzy, and the third vanishes even quicker while Steve spills some of the latest Harrington family drama.

While Eddie is updating him on how Wayne is doing, Steve finds that he isn’t really listening, distracted in the way he can’t help but notice how Eddie’s paint-stained t-shirt is actually more like an undershirt, and a size too small for him, the torso and sleeves tight around lean muscle, and there’s a thin silver chain around his neck and a scruff of facial hair around his jaw, and –

Steve doesn’t immediately realize when Eddie stopped talking. When he does, when his eyes finally unstick themselves from the buzzcut and drop back down to Eddie’s, he sees that Eddie is staring at him too.

Eddie’s tongue darts out to wet his lip.

“Ask me again why I buzzed my hair,” he tells him.

“Why’d you buzz your hair,” Steve asks, because he’s obedient like that (and because he really does want to know).

“Steve–” Eddie stops, a giggly, wine-induced hiccup of a laugh slipping out before he shakes his head, “An entire can of paint tipped ov–” He cuts himself off with another half-hysterical laugh, barely managing to say, “Spilled on my head,” before he was completely doubled over, and Steve is laughing too because he can totally picture it and because he had a bit more wine than he planned to and this is honestly the first time that he and Eddie have hung out without their daughter in…Steve doesn’t even know how long.

“Steve,” Eddie says again when they finally both recover, and his tone is completely different this time around and there’s a vulnerability in his eyes that wasn’t there before and something is happening, something is happening, “Please don’t kill me for saying this, but…fuck, it’s really kinda pathetic how badly I still want it to be you and me.”

Steve thinks he tries to respond, but then he was too busy kissing Eddie to do anything else, too busy scraping fingernails over Eddie’s scalp, too busy choking back a moan as Eddie sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, too busy tugging Eddie’s shirt out of his waistband to shove a hand up underneath and finding that he’s built more solidly than Steve remembers from the last time they touched like this, but something is telling him that’s true about Eddie – true about himself too – in more ways than one.

And if Rosalind comes home the next morning ready to ask how she’s getting back to Daddy’s house only to find that he’s already there, stealing Dad’s mug out of his hand for a sip of coffee when his own is right there…that’s a conversation for another day.

part 2

[chvoswxtch]

part five: the ghost from the past

[series masterlist] | [previous part] | [part six]

pairing: billy russo x fem!reader

summary: it's time to confront the ghost from the past, and the truth.

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, explicit sexual content (minors dni), domestic violence, graphic violence & gore (this is a slasher people)

word count: 6.4k

a/n: welcome to act three. I want to reiterate that this is a slasher. if gore is not your thing, or even reading about it makes you squeamish, this is your final warning before you get into this part. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

Billy’s penthouse was spacious and luxurious, a far cry from the simple apartment you could never return to. It looked like it had been ripped right out of a page of some high end magazine, from the neutral color scheme to the expensive looking furniture, the minimalist decor and artwork, and the large floor to ceiling windows that had a dazzling view of the Manhattan skyline.

You couldn’t see the beauty in this city anymore. 

Staring out the windows, all your brain could detect from the magnificent sight was the impending threat weaving through the villainous shadows, coming closer and closer. As you stood in front of the thick glass, you almost didn’t recognize your own faint reflection in it. You swore to yourself you would never feel helpless again, but that’s exactly what you felt tonight. 

Footsteps sounded behind you, growing louder the closer they came, until they stopped and Billy cleared his throat. When you turned around to face him, he held his phone in his right hand and regarded you with a cautious look, holding it up slightly.

“They found John’s body.”

You should’ve felt sad. You should’ve felt something. But you didn’t. Billy was eyeing you warily, trying to decipher your reaction, or rather lack of one. He didn’t know if you were simply still in shock, and you didn’t know either. You didn’t know what to feel. You weren’t quite numb, but you weren’t raw.

“He’s not gonna stop.”

Billy didn’t break eye contact with you. His apprehension shifted into determination, and he took a step closer, his tone unwavering when he spoke.

“I’m not either.”

You wanted to ask why. Why Billy cared so much. Why he was risking his own life to protect yours. Why was he still here and not running for the hills. But before you could voice any of those questions, he placed his palm on the small of your back and gave you a gentle nudge in the direction of the expansive kitchen.

“C’mon, I’ll make you a drink.”

A few moments later, he held out a small glass towards you, with one clutched in his other hand, both generously filled with a dark amber liquid.

“I don’t have tequila, but I do make a decent Old Fashioned.”

The faintest of a smile graced your lips as you nodded, reaching out with your bandaged hand for it.

“Thanks.”

The strong scent hit your nose before your tongue, making the flavor that much more intense as it slid down your throat, turning into molten lava in your stomach. There was a faint citrusy aftertaste from the orange slice floating between two square ice cubes.

As he took a sip from his own glass, Billy watched you intently while you glanced around the kitchen, taking in the black granite countertops and dark marble flooring. After following your line of sight for a moment, he eventually looked at you again with a small amused smile and chuckled. Turning your attention towards him, a look of confusion settled over your features.

“What?”

“I can hear the judgment on your face.”

Granting him another tiny smile, you shook your head slowly, glancing around again.

“It’s…nice”

Billy lightly chuckled, rubbing his hand down his bearded face.

“You never fail to keep me humble, sweetheart.”

“Sorry. If I spent years in a tent in the desert, I’d probably want a fancy penthouse too.”

Billy tilted his head to the side slightly, tapping his finger against his glass. His dark brown eyes slowly moved around the space, like he was taking in his own home for the first time. He had a thoughtful expression on his sharp features, and you were about to say something to break the silence when he finally spoke.

“I grew up in a group home.”

Billy met your eyes again, and he could see the shock and surprise in them. That was the last thing you had been expecting him to say, and he could see it. 

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be. Made me who I am. Made me more tenacious in goin’ after I wanted, no matter what it took. And now, everything I want is right here.”

He gestured around loosely with his hand holding onto his glass, and you weren’t sure if it was a coincidence or not that he ended that statement while looking right at you.

“Everything?”

Your voice was quiet when you asked him that, but it sounded loud in your ears due to the silence in the grand space. Billy didn’t look away from you. He gave you a faint nod of his head, and there was a look in his dark eyes you couldn’t quite read, but it made you shiver.

“Almost.”

Maybe it was the grief. Maybe it was because you were scared. Maybe it was because Billy was the only person you had in this city right now, in the whole world it felt like. But you felt vulnerable, exposed to the chill of loss and bite of terror that nipped at your bones that had been stripped bare. You were exhausted, not just from the attack, but from running and looking over your shoulder for so long. The emotional burden of your past and present was growing so heavy it felt like you couldn’t breathe. There was this massive weight on your chest, and all you wanted to do was let go, just for a little while.

Feeling the familiar warm sting pricking at the corners of your eyes, you set your drink down on the counter and surged forward, and Billy didn’t hesitate to abandon his own drink to pull you in with both arms. For the first time in so long, you felt safe. You felt secure enough to let the facade drop, letting all those pent up emotions out, flowing freely to soak through his shirt. You didn’t have to pretend with Billy, and you hadn't realized just how exhausting it had been to keep holding up your own carefully crafted mask. 

Billy didn’t owe you anything. He had every reason to stay out of this, and every reason to leave you to fend for yourself. But he didn’t. He chose to be here. He chose to do all of this. And despite everything, he was choosing you, and you couldn’t wrap your head around that.

“I’m sorry-’ “Don’t. It’s alright.”

Pulling back slightly, Billy gently cupped your face in his hands, brushing the tears away from your cheeks. There was no pity in his gaze, no flicker of regret or apprehension. The tone in his deep voice was firm, and the cadence was smooth as ever as he delivered reassurance you hadn’t even realized you were craving. 

“You ain’t gotta hide. Not from me.”

All the conflicting emotions rushing through you currently were so overwhelming, and so many of them were negative.

You just wanted to feel something good.

Staring up into his dark brown eyes, searching them for answers to questions you didn’t even know how to ask, a wave of longing crashed over you, carrying you away from the logical side of your brain to float in the middle of just pure feeling. Grabbing onto the back of his neck, you swiftly pulled Billy down to kiss him. It wasn’t soft or tender; it was deep and needy, insatiable with a hunger only he could satisfy in that moment. It didn’t grow steadily like an ember being wafted beneath perfectly positioned kindling in a fireplace, controlled and contained. It blazed all at once like a lit match being tossed onto gasoline soaked wood, erupting in a hasty bonfire, burning hot and high enough to reach the heavens.

Billy allowed himself a moment to enjoy tasting your lips before abruptly breaking the kiss. He pulled back to catch your eyes, both of you already lightly panting.

“Sweetheart-”

Whatever in his voice was supposed to sound like a warning or concern just sounded like barely concealed desire, and it fueled your need further. You didn’t want rational thinking. You didn’t want figuring out the next step. You wanted out of your own head. 

“Please.”

Billy couldn’t deny you a damn thing if he tried, certainly not when you begged in that breathless voice. Immediately his hands tightened their grip on your waist, and he pulled you flush against his body. With all the consent he needed to continue, he leaned in and kissed you like he was trying to steal the very elixir of life from your lungs. He backed you up until your back hit a wall, parting the seam of your lips with his tongue, demanding entry. His hands were everywhere, roaming over your lower back down to your ass to squeeze firmly, slipping under your shirt to brush against the soft skin of your waist, grabbing your hips once again to lift you without warning.

Instinctively your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, and one of your hands slipped through his gelled back raven strands that were surprisingly soft instead of stiff, while your other kept a tight grip on the back of his neck. Billy caressed your tongue sensually with his own, his teeth gnashed against yours in hunger, and he nipped at your bottom lip almost hard enough to draw blood. He blindly carried you down the hall towards his bedroom, bumping into walls and doors along the way, kicking his bedroom door open with his foot.

He refused to let go of you or break the kiss, keeping one arm securely wrapped around your back while his other reached for the bed, laying you down beneath him as he instantly climbed on top of you. The two of you seemed to be lost in a dark red cloud of lust, driven purely by instinctual and primal desire, in a frenzy to satisfy your mutual craving.

Billy’s bedroom floor was quickly decorated in each of your articles of clothing, until there was nothing left separating his heated bare skin from yours. His firm chest brushed against your sensitive nipples when he covered your body with his own again, and it drew a soft noise from the back of your throat. He forced your thighs apart with his knee as his teeth grazed over your pulse point before sinking them into your neck, making you grip his biceps and let out a sharp gasp, arching your back slightly in the process. 

His warm tongue snaked out to glide over your flesh, soothing the sting of his bite, causing you to shiver and goosebumps to prickle your skin. Billy reached down between the two of you, grasping his achingly hard cock, teasingly gliding his thick girth through your soaked folds to coat himself in your wetness. He pressed his forehead against yours, and his pupils were blown open so wide with lust that his eyes looked black as night.

“I’m not gonna be gentle.”

A shudder went through you at the husky warning in his deep voice, and a rush of excitement tingled in your nervous system at the potential of that promise. You didn’t need gentle. You didn’t need slow and sweet and romantic. You needed to be fucked, hard. So hard you wouldn’t be able to think about anything else other than him. So rough you wouldn’t be able to feel anything other than him. You needed this.

“I don’t want you to be.”

As soon as those words left your lips, something in Billy snapped, and he transformed right before your eyes. He wasted no time in forcefully pushing his hips forward, filling you in one swift thrust, nearly knocking the breath out of your lungs as he abruptly buried himself deeply within your snug warmth. He didn’t give either of you a moment to adjust or savor anything. Pulling your legs around his waist, allowing him to angle his hips and thrust even deeper, Billy quickly started to fuck you at a brutal pace.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

Billy grit out through his teeth, his face contorted in absolute hedonism. He tore moan after moan from your parted lips with every powerful snap of his hips, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the spacious bedroom, almost rivaling your vocals. Billy grunted in your ear, gripping onto your hips and thighs, digging his blunt fingernails into your skin, grasping at whatever he could and embedding himself in every inch of you. His teeth left several more marks on your neck and shoulder, decorating your skin in bruises like he was draping you in precious jewels.

“This what you wanted, sweetheart? Huh? This what you needed?”

Billy brought his hand up to wrap tightly around your throat, applying just enough pressure to capture your full attention. It didn’t send you into a panic like Roman’s hand around your throat used to. Billy wasn’t squeezing hard enough to hurt you. He wasn’t trying to hurt you. He was giving you what you wanted, what you asked for. Billy was in control, but he was willingly submitting to your desire.

His forehead was pressed to yours, and he was staring down into your eyes that were wide with raw desperation, reveling in the way that your mouth was hanging open, nothing but echoes of the pleasure that he was bringing you leaving them. All you could do was nod, but that was enough for Billy. He wanted more. He needed more.

“Say it.”

His voice came out in a low growl, and your nails sank into his back in response, leaving your own crescent shaped marks behind in his skin that earned a soft hiss from Billy.

“Y-Yes…yes…”

He nuzzled his nose against yours, making a low sound in his throat, capturing your top lip in a messy kiss.

“Good girl.”

You didn’t know you could be affected by two little words so much, but the praise sent electric shocks right down to your core, and the only signal your brain could send to the rest of your body was more more more. 

“Billy-”

His name left your lips in a strangled moan that seemed to get caught in your throat, and the sinful sweet sound made Billy’s cock twitch inside you as he continued to piston his hips. 

“Say it again.”

“Billy-“

This time it didn’t get stuck. It erupted from the depth of your chest, carrying with it a note of exigency interwoven in a clear plea. Hearing it again made something dark sparkle in Billy’s eyes, his top teeth raking over his bottom lip before he leaned in to drag his tongue along the underside of your jaw.

“That’s my girl. You need to come, don’t you sweetheart? This pretty pussy needs to come all over my cock, doesn’t it?” 

Managing to slip his hand between your bodies, Billy’s fingers found your sensitive clit and began rubbing furiously back and forth, making you jolt and cry out as your jaw went slack. He was relentless, fucking you hard and fast without mercy while rapidly strumming your clit at an inhuman speed, causing a tremor to spread in your thighs.

The relief you so desperately needed was right there, just within your reach. You clawed at Billy’s back, the only way you could communicate for him to not stop. Your moans were incoherent, rising in pitch and volume, becoming more and more breathless as that balloon of pleasure grew and expanded within you, taking up space in your ribcage and pressing against your lungs.

“Be a good girl and come for me. Don’t you dare hold back. Let it all go. Let the whole goddamn city hear you. C’mon, pretty girl. Let me have it.”

When that balloon finally burst, your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head, and all at once, the tightly coiled tension in your body melted away into pure bliss, leaving you feeling completely boneless and relaxed. The waves of ecstasy that had been built up catapulted you into the stars when they finally crashed down, causing you to explode like a firework, raining down in tiny burning sparks of white hot gratification.

Billy let out a feral grunt in your ear as his hips stuttered, slamming into you hard one final time, tightening his grasp on your neck with a groan of relief when he reached his own climax hearing the way you called his name like a sacred prayer. It was the most intense orgasm you’d ever had, shattering you into a million pieces in his silk sheets. 

The bedroom felt ten degrees hotter, and it smelled like sweat and sex and Billy’s expensive cologne. He nuzzled his nose against your neck as he slowly let go of it, the coarseness of his beard rubbing against your sensitive bitten skin making you shiver. His lips were considerably more gentle as they trailed along your jawline, his voice murmuring sweet nothings into your ear that your fuzzy brain couldn’t focus on at the moment. 

All you could do was feel.

»»———　　———««

“Billy?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you say six cameras?”

Billy’s hand that was slowly carding through your hair paused, and you lifted your head from where it was laying on his chest to look up at him. His lips parted before a furrow nestled between his dark brows.

“What?”

“Earlier, at the hospital. You said there were six cameras in the apartment. I thought there were only five.”

Billy looked at you silently for a moment, that same indecipherable look in his eyes from the kitchen. Softening the creases along his forehead, he brought his other hand up to run through his raven strands, pushing them back into place with a faint shrug.

“I meant five. I don’t know why I said six. There was a lot goin’ on, guess I got confused.”

A faint buzzing noise abruptly sounded on the nightstand, and Billy glanced over at his phone, turning his body slightly to pick it up and read the notification before muttering under his breath.

“Shit.”

“What is it?”

When he sat up, you had to untangle yourself from him, and you looked at him curiously as you sat up too, holding the sheets over your naked chest. Billy typed something on his phone with a serious looking expression before locking it and turning to look at you. 

“I gotta head to the office right quick.”

“What? Right now?”

Glancing at the digital clock on the nightstand, the red glowing letters showed that it was eleven thirty at night. Billy gave you an apologetic look before he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead, softly cupping your face in his hand. 

“Downside of ownin’ your own company sweetheart, you gotta be available at all times to put out the fires. I’ll be quick, I promise.”

Watching as his naked body slipped out of bed to start getting dressed, you glanced down at the silk sheets you were tangled in for a moment, feeling a pit of unease at the thought of being left alone. Your mind started to wander, and in a matter of seconds, you were spiraling with worst case scenarios. Lifting your head to look up at Billy, you hesitated to ask the question you didn’t know if you wanted the answer to or not.

“Does this…does it have anything to do with-”

Billy immediately paused in the middle of zipping up his pants, turning his head to look at you. He could see the worry written clear as day on your face. Pressing his knee onto the bed, he reached out and cupped your face in his hand once again, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone.

“Hey, everything is alright, yeah? Just relax, sweetheart. Don’t worry your pretty little head. I’ll be back in an hour, tops. I promise.”

»»———　　———««

In the midst of rummaging around in Billy’s fridge, you heard the front door to the penthouse open and close in the distance. Glancing at the clock on the microwave, you saw that it wasn’t even midnight yet. Billy hadn’t even been gone twenty minutes. Closing the doors of the stainless steel fridge, you started to walk out of the kitchen, your bare feet padding along the cold floor as you rounded the corner and headed towards the foyer.

“That was fast. I guess it wasn’t that-”

The second your eyes landed on him, you froze. Fear trickled through your nervous system, leaving your limbs numb, and your feet seemingly rooted to the floor. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Roman’s voice had a hint of humor in it, but his face showed no signs of amusement. His eyes roamed over your figure, slowly looking you up and down, taking in your bare feet and legs, and the wrinkled white dress shirt covering your body that clearly did not belong to you. When his intense stare landed on it, the edge of his top lip curled faintly in a snarl, and then he quickly met your shocked and terrified expression again.

When you had first met him, you’d thought Roman had the most beautiful ocean blue eyes. But then you’d seen them cold and full of rage so many times that they lost their beauty. They no longer looked like two sparkling sapphires; they made you feel like you were staring into the eye of a perilous storm. 

He’d grown out his light brown hair, and it was messily slicked back, a few curls sticking out around his neck. Instead of the usual clean shaven face you were used to seeing that made him look deceptively harmless, he’d grown out a mustache and the facial hair on his chin. Somehow it made him look older, and more menacing. He didn’t look like the unassuming nice guy you’d once believed him to be anymore. He looked more like the volatile angry man you knew he was.

“Roman-”

“So this is what you wanted, huh? This is what you left me for?”

He completely disregarded the fear trembling in your voice, tilting his head to the side as he looked at you in disdain, gesturing around to the luxurious penthouse with his hand.

“You were never such a shallow bitch before, Cassia.”

“That’s not my name anymore.”

A flicker of surprise registered in Roman’s eyes when you snapped back at him like that. You had never done that before. It was just a split second of surprise, but it quickly became clear that it only incensed him further, and he clenched his jaw as he took a step forward.

“I don’t give a shit what your name is now. You can change your name a thousand times baby, but you’ll never be able to change the fact that you’re mine.”

Swallowing thickly, you clenched your hands into tight fists, ignoring the sting of the pressure it inflicted on the stitches in your palms.

“How did you find me?”

“Oh I’ve been looking for you for three years, baby. I never stopped. Had a little help, too. And last week, I got a picture of you with two words. New York.”

Roman had a smile on his face, but it wasn’t warm or loving. It was a predatory smile a wolf would give a sheep. The knowledge that someone had sent him your picture and told him where you were filled you with confusion. Had he hired people to locate you? You had been so careful for the last three years, at least you thought you had, but someone managed to find you. 

And it was a terrifying thought that you had no idea who. 

Someone had been watching you, for God only knew how long. A sinking stone of uneasiness settled in the pit of your stomach with that knowledge. But Roman didn’t allow you a second to overanalyze every moment of the last three years to find the mistake that led to this one, to find the face that had been lurking in the background of your new life. He took another step forward, and the inauthentic smile slipped from his face like it had never existed.

“You’re coming home with me, where you belong. Tonight.”

There was an imbalance of emotions warring within you. Even though you were terrified of the man standing in front of you, there was an overwhelming hatred and anger you felt towards him. You weren’t going to cower, not this time. You weren’t going to willingly submit to him and the fate he had planned for you, not like you used to. The old version of you he knew was gone, and you were going to make goddamn sure he knew she was never coming back.

“No.”

Roman looked genuinely taken aback by your refusal, his anger faltering for a moment with shock. You’d never told him no. You’d never stood up to him. But your defiance clearly enraged him. 

“Excuse me?”

“I said no.”

Roman stared at you like you’d grown two heads. His face was a murky mess of perplexity and irritation. He let out a harsh exhale through his flared nostrils.

“I don’t want to fight with you-”

The audacity he had to say that instantly set you off, and you didn’t allow him to finish his blatant lie.

“Yes you do. Because it makes you feel powerful, doesn’t it? Hurting me? Makes you feel like a big, strong man? Is that why you killed them, Roman?”

The question seemed to reduce his vexation momentarily to pure ignorance. His face twisted up in puzzlement that was entangled with annoyance.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You murdered four people, you sick fuck. You’ve gone completely psychotic-“

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about! I didn’t kill anyone-”

The accusations seemed to piss Roman off, lighting the short fuse on his temper that was sure to explode at any second. You weren’t sure why he was denying it here right in front of you when he’d already confessed over the phone, but you were done playing his bullshit games. 

“You want me to leave here with you? You’re gonna have to kill me too you fucking coward. Because that is the only way in hell I would ever go back to Woodsboro with you, you sorry ass mama’s boy.” 

Immediately, Roman lunged for you with a growl. He grabbed you by the arm and struck his fist against your face hard, sending you to the floor. Pain instantly started to throb in your cheekbone, but when Roman grabbed you by your hair to tug you up to your feet, you mustered all the strength you could to throw a punch of your own, your knuckles colliding with his nose resulting in a sickening crunch.

He let go of your hair and stumbled backwards with a loud grunt of pain, clutching at his nose. Pulling his hand away to look down at the evidence of your defiance coating his fingers, Roman turned his head to look at you in shock and rage as blood leaked from his nose.

“You fucking bitch.”

Grabbing you once again by the throat, he punched you right in the stomach, nearly knocking the breath out of you, and then he struck you across the face again, sending you backwards to crash through a glass coffee table that shattered into several glittering pieces. Pain shot through so many different parts of your body, you couldn’t even tell which part of you was injured the worst. Roman was on top of you in a flash, wrapping both of his hands around your neck, gritting his teeth as he started to choke you.

Your eyes went wide with panic, and you struggled to breathe, your hands frantically clawing at his arms and reaching up to grab at the collar of his shirt, and eventually his face. He pulled his head back and away from your reach, letting out a grunt as he lifted your head to slam it back down against the floor, causing a throb to resonate in the back of your skull. In a split second, you were transported right back to the night you ended up in the hospital.

It was all too familiar. Roman holding you down, staring down at you with toxic rage in his eyes, his hands restricting all air flow to your brain as he choked the life out of you. Somehow, you’d ended right back up in the place you’d worked so hard to avoid. This time, there were no neighbors to call the police on your behalf. This time, no one was coming to save you. Blackness was slowly closing in on your vision, like the Iris shot of an old movie, signaling the end. 

But this wasn’t your ending.

Blindly feeling around on the floor beside you, glass shards got stuck in the gauze that was still wrapped around your injured palm, and your fingertips brushed against a large jagged piece. Grabbing it tightly in your hand, you used every ounce of remaining strength to drive it into Roman’s thigh, and he roared in pain as he let go of your throat, looking down at where you’d just stabbed him. Taking advantage of the moment, you grabbed one of the heavy decorative pieces that had been on the coffee table and struck him across the face with it. Roman fell over onto his side with a grunt, bringing his hand up to his temple that now had a gash in it.

Immediately you began to cough and suck in deep gasps of air, clutching at your chest. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a revolver tucked into the waistband of Roman’s jeans, and your eyes widened with panic when you saw him start to reach for it. Scrambling to your feet, ignoring the sharp sting of glass shards scratching and piercing your bare skin, you took off running towards the bedroom, slamming the door shut  and locking it before dashing into the large walk in closet. Billy had to have a gun somewhere. You began searching through drawers and cabinets in a frenzy, searching for a gun or a knife, anything.

As you pulled open one of the bottom drawers of a dresser and started to search through it, a flash of white caught your eye, and your breath hitched in your throat.

Grasping the chin of the mask, you tugged on it to pull it out from underneath a thick piece of black fabric. It was the very mask you’d seen earlier. The white rubber stretched in a ghastly expression, emphasized by black soulless pits for eyes and a mouth. Your breathing grew heavy as you grasped the black fabric, and your blood ran cold spotting a tiny shard of emerald green ceramic embedded in it.

All the color drained from your face in horror, the truth spreading confusion and betrayal through your bloodstream like a poison. 

It wasn’t Roman.

It was Billy.

You didn’t have time to process that revelation before a loud banging started sounding on the bedroom door, Roman’s angry voice yelling out your name as he tried to break it down. Your eyes frantically darted around the large walk in closet. You still hadn’t found a gun, and you were panicking when the glint of something caught your eye. On one of the shelves, a diamond shaped thick piece of glass sat proudly, engraved with Billy’s name and the details of the award. It looked heavy, and the pointy tip appeared sharp.

Hearing the wood start to splinter under the weight and force of Roman’s relentless effort to break it down, you snapped out of your panic and shock, and in a split second, you made a decision. Pulling the black robe on hastily along with the mask, and the gloves that had been balled up in the middle of the fabric, you stood and swiped the award off the shelf. Slipping out of the large walk-in closet, you pulled the door shut just slightly, leaving an intentional crack in it. Just as the bedroom door had burst open, you’d snuck into the dark bathroom, hiding in the corner behind the door, the black robe keeping you concealed in the shadows.

Roman’s footsteps were heavy and angry, and you could even hear how hard he was breathing.

“You stupid whore. Where you gonna run now, huh? You got nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. You’re locked in here with me baby.”

You kept your breathing as quiet as possible, and the mask aided in muffling the sound. A humorless chuckle sounded from Roman, and you heard his footsteps leading him exactly where you wanted him.

“You know, you can pretend all you want, but you haven’t changed. You forget baby, I know you. Better than anyone. You haven’t changed, and you haven’t learned a goddamn thing. You’re still that stupid little girl, always running for the fucking closet-”

Roman kicked the door of the closet open, aiming his revolver towards where he thought your cowering form would be. A crease of confusion nestled between his brows as his stormy blue eyes glanced around, finding the space empty. Gripping the door handle in his other hand, he yanked it forward and pointed the gun towards the corner behind it, but to his annoyance, you weren’t there. Shoving the door against the wall, he angrily looked around the large walk-in closet, looking over spots he might have missed while blinded by rage.

Silently slipping out of the bathroom, you slowly stalked towards him, the thick glass heavy in your gloved hand. Roman was standing in the doorway of the closet, his broad shoulders taking up most of the frame, his back to you. Clutching the award tight in your hand, you raised it slowly, and with a feral yell, you drove the sharp end right into his back, making him drop the revolver and shout in pain as he reached behind him. As soon as he turned around, you let out another yell as you struck him across the head with it as hard as you could, knocking him down to the floor.

Blood immediately started to flow from a fresh cut above his eyebrow, and Roman grabbed at his head as he turned onto his back, grunting in pain. But as soon as he looked up and saw you standing there in the black robe and Ghostface mask, the bloodied award grasped in your gloved hand, his blue eyes widened, and his face paled. You saw an emotion paint his features you’d never seen in Roman before.

Fear.

Power surged through your body, electrifying every nerve ending inside you. Grasping the mouth of the mask, you slowly pulled it up and over your head, staring down at him in pure hatred, your chest heaving from how heavy you were breathing. The anger pumping through your bloodstream was more intense than anything you had ever felt. Standing above Roman, staring down at him and seeing him being the one cowering on the floor looking scared, it awoke something dark in you that had always laid dormant, waiting for this moment.

“I have changed, Roman. The girl you knew, is dead. I fucking killed her.”

Roman slowly held his bloodied hands up, his wide blue eyes staring up at you as he began to plead.

“Cass…baby…just let me-”

“And I am not locked in here with you. You’re locked in here with me. Only one of us is walking out of this room alive, and it is not fucking going to be you.”

Before he could say another word, you dropped to your knees and struck him with the thick glass again. Climbing on top of him, you let out another feral scream as you started to strike him, over and over and over, unleashing every ounce of pent up rage that had been festering within you, bubbling up to this eruption. Everything all came rushing back at once. Every sharp sting from a slap, every taste of blood in your mouth from his fist connecting with your face, every broken bone from being thrown to the ground, the physical and metaphorical loss of your voice when he crushed your windpipe, the paralyzing fear that had caused you to uproot your life and change everything about yourself, the isolation that had come with it, and the fear for your fucking life; all of it fueled your unhinged retaliation.

You didn’t stop. Not when he begged, not when he held his hands up in defense, not when he cried out in pain. He had never stopped, not with you. You repaid him in the exact same ruthlessness he’d always shown you, until your arms ached and the face you used to be terrified of in your nightmares was reduced to a disfigured pile of meat and bone.

Dropping the award to the ground with a loud thud, your eyes were wild and your pupils were blown wide open, like a feral animal after an attack. Your chest was heaving from the physical exertion and your lungs felt like they were on fire. A twisted sense of euphoria spread through you like a wildfire, and that heavy weight of fear that had been suffocating you was finally gone.

A sudden noise made your head snap up. Billy was standing in the doorway of the bedroom, his gun grasped tightly in his right hand. His dark brown eyes glanced down at the lifeless body beneath you and the puddle of blood surrounding the carnage. His gaze slowly wandered over the sight of you in the black robe, the Ghostface mask forgotten on the floor behind you, the bloodied award of his on the floor beside you, and the splatters of deep maroon on your face and in your hair. 

When he finally met your gaze, he was struck by the untamed rage burning in your eyes.

He slowly slipped his gun into his holster, raising his hands up in a show of surrender. But he didn’t look scared. Staring up at him, you saw a flicker of what looked like…pride, in his eyes. He was staring at you in awe, like you were the most magnificent creature he’d ever seen. All of a sudden, his lips slowly spread into a wicked grin.

“I knew you had it in you, sweetheart.”

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @ferns-fics @danzer8705 @to-thelakes @simonsgirl @sweetserendipity65 @zomtart @day-dreaming-goddess @caroblogsthings @thomasshelbyswife @snowkestrel @hallowedtangerine @ameliaswife @dreadfulxives18 @ebsmind @lllla717 @slumnit @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @nolita-fairytale @oliviaewl @r1kk @unlikelystarlightcowboy @imperihoe-writes @dumb-fawkin-bitch @merc12-us @moonyinthestars @sweetttart@i-caught-a-pidge @fruityfucker @strangerfromketterdam @whosprettynow

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[halcyone-of-the-sea]

You know, all I want is to spend some time with Nikto on his off-days and have him read Dostoyevski to me, if you don't want to make this like a single fic you can maybe incorporate it into "ravishing allure" some time later 🥹

"…and there can be no love otherwise."

PAIRINGS: Nikto x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: If anyone could make the bad days better, it was Nikto.

WORDCOUNT: 2.3k

WARNINGS: Stress from work/life, lack of sleep, mostly fluff, comfort, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

There were times you wondered if putting up with your job was really worth it. Sure, you needed the money to pay rent, food, and bills, among a laundry list of others that just seemed to never end, but was the cost of your sleep the metaphorical soul you had to hand over? 

Every day you came home tired to your little apartment—neighbors loud and the light in the bathroom flickering because the electrician had never shown up to fix it. Tired, but unable to fall asleep until everything else was done. So, you’d make dinner, clean, shower, sit down to mindlessly watch a show on TV for half an hour, and then stumble into bed. 

Only to stay awake and stare at the ceiling. 

You can’t say why you do it, thinking over the things you did wrong and the awkward conversations you have with coworkers; you shouldn’t care about it—really, you shouldn't. Yet you can’t stop your brain from slipping like a slide to every instance, every millisecond where you felt the air of the interaction change. Side-eyes and confused looks. 

And then at six o’clock, you’d drag yourself out of bed with bags on your face and a drained expression to do it all over again. 

“Hi, how can I help you today?” 

“Oh, of course, we have some in the back—I’ll go grab it for you.”

“Thank you! You have a good day now, Sir. Come back soon.”

It just felt fake. Greet, help, take money, wave and smile, repeat, repeat, repeat. But maybe today would be slightly different, by the second pair of shoes that were placed in your apartment entry as you slowly opened the front door. 

Boots—black and set an equal distance apart with a cleaned surface despite the places they’d been and what they’d probably stepped through. They were neatly situated under the small bench you had for convenience, and you blink at them as you softly shut the door and lock it. A large, and matching in color, jacket was folded and placed atop the flat surface—keys sitting in an indent. 

Nikto, ever the neat and tidy one. He must be back then. 

While the two of you didn’t live together, the bear of a man had made a habit of coming over when he returned from deployments with KorTac—you’d given him a key the second year you’d been together. 

Your ears faintly twitch to the sound of cooking, nose moving just a second later to the scent of something on the stove. Clinking pans and silent footsteps. He knew you were here, sure as anything. Weakly sighing, you shift out of your jacket and shoes; tossing them in the general direction of the bench as you rub at your eyes and drop your purse to the floor with a slap of canvas. 

How do you explain looking like shit? 

Shuffling into the kitchen, you undo some of the buttons on your blouse to let yourself breathe, dress pants running along the carpet as your feet pad like a hound’s slapping paws. Vision blurry and eyelids threatening to close on you, you find the tall man in front of the stove, moving something in a pan with sizzling oils with the wide flex of his shoulders.

On another burner, there’s a large pot of simmering water—the counter has already been cleaned up of flour and mess, a tidy pile of dirty items sitting in the sink to be washed. You stare for a second before you grumble a hello, forcing your body to sag into his back as you walk over and slap your forehead into his spine. 

Nikto grunts lowly in response and continues what he’s doing. 

While it wasn’t rare to find him in the kitchen—in fact, you prefer it when he cooks—but usually when he got back you opted to order supper. He always insisted, gruffly, that he wasn’t tired, but you just wanted him to relax.

It was fun to baby him. 

“Didn’t know you were going to be back today,” you whisper into him, arms hanging by your sides. 

“We were released early,” his voice is deep and harsh—a bark of his Russian accent and rasp. Every word is thought out and said with purpose. “Conflict in schedule.”

You hum lowly, and it’s immediately after that Nikto stiffens, back going straighter. It’s the fact that you don’t even notice that you’ve completely screwed up your own routine that tips him off; how your change in pace had made him initially suspicious as he’d heard you enter the apartment. 

You hadn't commented on his eyes. Hadn’t tried to get him to turn around to see them. 

There was a running gag that Nikto tolerated—you’d grab him carefully by the chin and tilt his blank eyes to you in all of their icy glory. Sparks of glass and chilled storms inlay near the pupils. You’d stare, smile, and then say, “Yup, he’s still in there.” 

Even if you couldn’t see it under his balaclava, Nikto’s lips would part and he’d study your face for a minute in silence, before lightly bonking his forehead to yours. A strange and unique kiss that only he could perfect in his intimidating way. 

You hadn’t even attempted that. 

Nikto puts down the fork he was using to push around the fried potatoes and mushrooms; Pelmeni still simmering in the pot for another five minutes. The cut-up dill and melted butter on the counter are pushed from his mind with a purpose in his veins.

“What is wrong with you?” Nikto turns and you stifle a fatigued snort as you look up at him. It wasn’t his fault, of course. English isn’t his first language, and you found his broken, or sometimes bare-bones blunt, sentences to be endearing.

“Such a way with words, hm?” You can’t help but tease, and you can see the annoyed furrow of his brown brows, nose huffing a breath. “Just tired, Nikto.” Your words make his gaze slide along the very visible bags and the red veins of your eyes. 

He mutters something in Russian under his breath, lids narrowing on you as he grasps your shoulders and moves you back so he can look you up and down slowly in a near clinical breakdown of atoms. As if he can peel back clothes and splay nerves to light. 

“You look horrible…Sickly.” You can see the brain working as your lips go into a line to stay off your loud laugh. “Like dead woman walking.”

He was so much better with actions than words, this beast of wide shoulders and shifting thighs that could crush your bones to dust in an instant. You liked that about him—you never had to guess when he was being genuine or not.

“Work’s been rough,” you chuckle lowly, sliding on a fake smile that doesn’t fool him for a second. “Nothing I can’t…figure out, okay? Thanks for making supper, I love when you cook.”

Nikto’s eyes soften just a smidge, his hands holding your flesh just the littlest bit tighter. His expansive chest rises and falls in a heavy sigh, the bulk of his stomach and pecs visible under the tucked black t-shirt and his spare cargo pants.

Without a word, you’re being lifted with little more than a huff of, “моя нежная девочка… keep awake.”

You squeak as you’re settled onto his shoulder, hanging off like a sack of grain as his arm wraps over the top of your tailbone—large other hand on your thigh and fingers firmly grasping your skin. 

“Nikto—!”

“Hush,” he grunts, a bark of a chuckle wafting out as your hand playfully hits his back with a pathetic slap. The man raises a brow, smirking under his face covering. “What do you expect to do with that, girl?” 

“To let you know,” you poke at his spine and he shifts your farther down his shoulder in retaliation as you scramble and grasp at his shirt; giggling as your head sways to his steps. “That I won't go quietly!” 

“Good to know,” he grumbles. “I would want nothing less, eh?” 

His hands make sure that you don’t fall, even if you were to start wiggling or slipping.

You go limp and let him carry you into the living room, face burning with appreciation as your limbs let themselves rest. Nikto slings you back over his shoulder and drops you to the couch as you laugh, head purposely hitting the pillow as your chest rises and falls with breaths. 

The man stares down at you as you chuckle in gasps, always one to stare at any chance he gets. His arms crossed at his chest, feet apart, and shadow slipping over you from the overhead light. You gaze up silently, a smile on your lips, and quizzically raise to your brow.

“Stay,” is what he says to you, icy vision sliding down your body with a hum of approval. He sends a teasing slap to your thigh before striding back into the kitchen, narrowly missing your leg kicking out at his arse. 

Nikto scoffs at your attempt and disappears.

Normally you’d run at him and jump on his back, hanging off like an animal, but being as fatigued as you are, you call a mumbled curse at his name and curl sideways. Your face nuzzles into the pillow, smiling lightly before you let your eyes momentarily close.

You must have taken a quick nap because it seemed not even a second later that you were being shaken awake by a hand on your arm; spreading up to run over your cheek as your lashes flutter. “Милая.” You sigh, vision blurry and your head pounding. A strong scent hits your nose and you perk—rubbing at your eyes and face. “Eat.”

A plate of fried potatoes with mushrooms and another bowl of Pelmeni are on the coffee table, and the former is shoved into your face by a strong hand, the small dumplings topped with melted butter and dill. 

“Pelmeni,” Nikto states in a monotone, blinking at you as if you don’t know his own culture’s food by now. He made them often enough, which was why you liked him so much—food was truly the way to your love.

You’d taken up baking some of Nikto’s favorite desserts once, had failed horribly, and left most of the kitchen work to him—but the funny thing was that whenever you did bake, the man still always cleaned his plate. You’d never seen him turn down your food, even when you could see his eyes scrunch with restrained aversion.

“Да,” he would grunt out, “good.” It was so strained you always laughed so hard your lungs hurt after. On the off-hand, Nikto’s skills in the kitchen were enough to get you to sell your car for just another bite. 

Sitting up, you carefully take the bowl and look up at him, smiling deeply. 

“Thank you, Nik.” The man hums and turns his head away, still unused to outright affection even two years in. “Nikto~” you draw out his name, tilting your head to the side and trying to catch his gaze again. 

“Silence, woman,” he growls with no real heat, huffing before carefully placing his forehead to yours again as you expected him to. You giggle and stare into his eyes smugly. 

You knew what he was waiting for. Your blood runs hot, face going into a picture of care. His blues blink at you as snowflakes mingle with mist; a mix of cold and desolate landscapes that offer no reprieve from harm besides the small glint of fire they gain when they lock with yours. 

“Yup,” you whisper, and Nikto’s shoulders loosen as he presses more deeply into your skin. “He’s still in there.” 

He stares intensely, and the faintest of twitches under his balaclava tell you all you need to know. 

Nikto makes sure you eat your fill and when you’re done he takes the dishes and washes them while you shower and get into pajamas. Sluggish, but warmed by a full stomach and your boyfriend’s care. You come out to find he’s already reclining on the couch, book in hand as the other bends behind his neck. Lights were low and the heat turned up. Nikto opens his side to you and your body snuggles next to him—it had taken a long time to earn his trust like this; to be near him and to freely give affection.

It would be longer still until you saw his face, but you can live with that. There was no rush, and you knew it was a large soft spot even if he’d never shared the details as to why.

You sigh deeply and Nikto grunts, moving his arm behind your back and keeping you to his chest as he reads. 

This is a common sight from him, and he begins reading to you in his mother tongue from the works of Fyodor Dostoevsky, the grit and gravel of his voice sliding into words and sensations as you practically feel it coming from his chest and throat. Your head situates itself under his chin, feeling his free hand playing with your hair until you go brain-dead except to the way he feels and sounds. Harsh words had never been more gentle.

Halfway through he switches to English, his sentences now more slow and thought out and your lashes flutter; breath soft as you take in his scent of oakmoss and amber. His heart beats steady and true. 

“‘To love is to suffer,’” he reads, fingers rubbing circles into your clothes and letting you sleep as the day grows faster into a cold night. He glances down with easy eyes, gripping you just a bit closer as your body entirely goes limp in his embrace. “‘...And there can be no love otherwise.’” 

He silences himself and watches for a moment before he closes the book, dropping it silently to the coffee table and staring past you at the ceiling. The man feels your warmth bleed into his scarred and damaged skin and whispers something akin to vindication.

Nikto listens to your steady breathing and holds you. Steady. Noiseless. 

He grunts to himself and only presses you closer.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[mitsvriii]

"Nothing's New"

In which your partner is never going to pay attention to you, because they’re too focused on their dead lover

Bell’s notes: “writer bell goes too far with this fic-” im /j no ones gonna say that, angst powers pls work tho, like im asdlkfjawel;fjsd;jf;lska, i cant write dude, let me like, plan this out in my head before writing nonsense, LIKE BRO, feral over angst LORD, 100k likes and you get part 2 /jjjj, growling i love angst, MWHAHAHA, sorry ely, yuka, mhie, snob, and zee if you read this 😔😔😔, i listened to “IT Girl” while writing this 😋, got carried away with Ayato’s part oopsies, i believe Guizhong for the ladies but whatever 😔😔😔, cut out Wanderer & Childe in the end because i’m TIRED, not proofread

Story details: Ayato lowkey a bitch, scratch that highkey, reader has self-doubt, Neuvilette doesn’t mean to be mean he just ISSS, GUIZHONG DID NOTHING STOP MAKING HER THE ONE IN BLAME IN THESE ZHONGLI SCENARIOS, oh and I couldn’t be bothered with Xiao’s part like a quarter through he’s such a flexible yet straight character, it’s the way you can tell when I got lazy with each part, chance Xiao & Zhongli are gonna be ooc as i’ve never written anything but short headcanons for them before

Characters & Triggers: Ayato, Neuvilette, Xiao, & Zhongli;  reader has self-doubt, mention of death, mention of martial neglect

Reader details: female reader in Ayato’s part is explicit. female reader in Neuvilette’s part can be interpreted with the way you read it. the other parts, however, shouldn’t have a specified reader type. reader’s personality, race/ethnicity, height, physical descriptions, or anything of the sort is not mentioned. if anything is let me know and i’ll edit it. 

Ayato: No surprise the Yashiro Commissioner doesn’t pay attention to his new wife, the one that he didn’t marry first. You knew that he didn’t love you, and most likely never would because you were, in fact, the second pick. Actually, it was probably in the hundreds based on the amount of marriage arrangement offers Ayato had gotten considering he was one of the biggest figures in Inazuma. It didn’t matter, but he most likely picked you because your clan was a small one to put it lightly, so he most likely chose it, and you, because it wouldn’t be a hassle with the press. But of course, he would choose the person and clan that seemed, “easy”. It hurt seeing some of the people’s sympathetic stares, such as Ayaka’s, Thoma’s, and a few of the older women working in the estate. You got used to the lack of greeting from Ayato when he got off work, the lack of warmth beside you at night. You found it hilarious, although you were hysteric at the time as you had just found out that Ayato was off that day and neglected to see you, that he never, ever laid down in the same bed as you. It doesn’t matter no matter how hard you work around the estate, how long you sit up doing his work, which you soon quit once he yelled at you like a homeless dog, or even the distinct flower you made out of one of Ayato’s favorite sweets that he ignored. Not even a glance at your general direction, either. After a while, you decided to do some digging on his past wife, only to find out that she was in fact near perfect. Perfect reputation, perfect everything, to put it shortly. Shortly after asking Ayaka what happened to her, by pulling the sad, guilty wife card, you found out she was a victim of an assassination attempt that turned into a success. Of course, Ayato and his perfect wife would only be torn apart by death. It was poetic, and it made you sick. So what were you to do but endure the slow torture that you and Ayato’s marriage was? After all, nothing you could do could change how he felt about you. 

Neuvillette: The famous hydro dragon, at least to those who knew his ‘secret’. His past lover, unfortunately, died before him, no doubt to his immortality. Of course, you would soon die, maybe in a few decades but, hey, it wasn’t like he would miss you. You could only wait awake at night as Neuvillette went to fix himself his own meal, despite you staying up to cook him one and await for his return from work. It’s not that was the only time he never paid attention to you, after all the man had most likely been grieving his wife for centuries at this point in time. So what were you to do besides stay and watch this man be emotionally constipated around you? Why did he even marry you in the first place, then? It couldn’t be because his past wife resembled you, and it certainly wasn’t because you both acted the same. Was it because he needed someone to cling to? I mean, you weren’t exactly someone who seemed to not fit the criteria of a compassionate co-worker who would comfort Neuvillette in his times of distress. Did Neuvilette only come to you because you were his way of grieving? It would make partial sense, to cling to the nearest piece of comfort to help with the pain of loss. It made you feel like nothing but an object meant for his emotional wants, but in reality, that’s all you ever are and will ever be to him. 

Xiao: The famous adeptus long ago, had someone close to him. Shame they fell to waste during the archon wars, along with the other adepti. It was no surprise that everyone familiar with Liyue stories knew about the two of them together, which unfortunately included you. It didn’t pain you that much until your oh-so-loveable boyfriend got distracted by two kids playing with a Xiao lantern and one of her. After that, it only devolved into more. The lack of visits to your room in the inn, the lack of responses whenever you left your little notes for him near your meet-up place, and the extreme lack of thank-you-notes whenever you left Xiao almond tofu. It didn’t matter that you started to skip and completely ignore doing all of these things just to see if he would notice because the adeptus failed to appear in your room just to check in to see if you were okay. This behavior was unlike him, at least in the sense of him completely ignoring you. The only answer you could think of, that logically made sense, of course, was that he was reminded of his past loved one because of the run-in with the lanterns you two had while out in Liyue. So in terms, he seemed to disconnect with you because of the memories of his past significant other? You knew the adepti didn’t die peacefully, you could tell that much from the stories, so it wouldn’t be surprising if that also applied to Xiao’s past lover. There was nothing you could do about it though, because if you knew Xiao, he wouldn’t talk about her to you nor push her aside for you.

Zhongli: Guizhong. Of course, you were familiar with the name, everyone in Liyue was. Everyone might be a stretch considering the visitors and children, but the point’s been made. Morax and Guizhong were close. Close in a sense of possibly having relationship affairs but that was only explicit to you because of the way your lover would glace at glaze lilies. You couldn’t call him your lover, could you? Not with the way he would hum to the glaze lilies, the way his eyes would also drift away from you whenever you talked as you took strolls through Guilu Plains, and the way he would opt to tell stories of specific tales of his time as Morax, ones that included Guizhong in some way. It got to the point where you had to make up tasks that you had to do daily just to get away from the walks you two took, not to hear the different-yet-similar stories of Morax and totally not Guizhong. It was childish of you to be doing so, you had yourself convinced, as you couldn’t blame Guizhong for any of it. She had no part of this besides well, besides being your number one stressor for the past few weeks. It was tiring yet somehow for the sake of not wanting a glare or side-eye from Zhongli about his stories, which you never thought you’d get that tired of hearing, you kept your mouth shut, despite how hard it was. You knew it would only take so much more, though, before you said something about it. 

[gay-dorito-dust]

can I request jealous Wednesday x fem reader? Wednesday gets jealous of Xavier and the reader so she's more passive aggressive than usual and has the urge to pull pranks on Xavier. But when Wednesday sees reader and Xavier painting the reader chases after her

Summary: Wednesday is reluctant to accept that she’s jealous of your friendship with Xavier until it all comes ahead.

A/n: Also due to the fact of how fucking long I made this fic, I had to relegate pranks (plural) to a singular prank. I rambled a little bit ngl.

Wednesday hated the gut feeling she’d get whenever she saw you and Xavier within extreme close proximity of one another; As though you were trying to fuse into one being with how pressed against one another you were. It felt like she had a stone stuck in her stomach that refused to dissolve and was starting to cause external as well as internal issues the longer it went unresolved. Normally Wednesday viewed herself above expressing emotions should they not provide beneficial results to her in the long run for the remainder of her stay at Nevermore, or everyday life in general.

However it seemed to Wednesday that you were the peculiar exception to this golden rule she had lived by since the passing of her pet scorpion. She felt fluttery in her chest whenever you laughed, her clothed skin burned with the remnants of your accidental touches and she felt most anticipating when she made plans with you after classes. You’ve managed to brought fourth emotions Wednesday long thought she had killed in order of bettering herself whether you were aware of your effect or not.

She hated it, she hated not being in control of her emotions and by that logic, Wednesday should hate you for being the reason for her lack of self control but she didn’t. Instead she directed all her hatred towards Xavier to the point that castration was a considered punishment but knowing how Nevermore operates; Wednesday knew that short of thing would’ve be allowed to fly without repercussions. ‘A pity really,’ she thought to herself as she maintained eye contact with the back of Xavier’s head as he playfully nudged you with his shoulder, ‘a shame even.’

Enid wished she could see the inner workings of Wednesday’s head but with how brutally she was stabbing the lunch table with her blunt knife, she quickly changed her mind in fear of that knife being directed at her next. “Wednesday, remember what we talked about when we get urge to stab something.” Enid spoke hesitantly as she tried to safely remove the knife away from Wednesday’s hand. When it was brought down harder then the previous times, blade lodged deeply within the table that once Wednesday lets go of the handle, the knife however remained standing straight up. Her eyes never departing from you nor Xavier as they blazed with silent fury. “Keep stabbing until it stops moving.” She replied blankly before standing up.

“Hey! Wednesday! Where are you going-“ Enid tried calling out to her friend when her words got caught up in her throat when her eyes followed the direction she was heading; You and Xavier. “Oh no.” Enid whispered as she rushed after Wednesday in hope of preventing someone’s (read: Xavier’s) death. “I do not want to be caught in the midst of a murder today, I just got these clothes recently and blood would not go well with them.” She rambled under her breath as nervousness got the better of her when she finally managed to catch up with Wednesday who was looking straight at you.

“Y/n.”

“Oh shit.” you almost jumped out of your chair at the sudden voice beside you had Xavier not caught you by the shoulders to stabilise you. Giving the boy your thanks you looked to your side of the table to see Wednesday and Enid standing there. “Hey Wednesday! Hey Enid, what’s up? Me and Xavier here were just-“ “I need you to come over to my-“ “our” Enid interrupted, flashing a smile when Wednesday looked at her with almost murderous intent before bringing her attention back to you. “Our dorm,” she shot enid a glare, “to look over some studies that were assigned to us last period.”

“We did?” You questioned as you, Xavier and Enid share a look of confusion as all four of you had last period together and to your recollection, there was no tasked assignment. So either you had shit memory or something else was at hand here that you were oblivious towards. Xavier shrugged his shoulders, “beats me and I tend to pay attention in my classes.” You shoved him by the shoulder as you laughed, “you fucking liar, no you don’t you always end up copying my notes or worse!” Xavier chuckled, extending his hand to pat your sympathetically on the shoulder.

“I make it up to you don’t I?” He asked innocently, making you scoff as you swat away his hand. before bringing his attention to Wednesday who by now has her jaw so tightly clenched behind a deadpan face that she swore she felt some teeth crack under the pressure she was putting them under. “Are you sure we got an assessment Wednesday? Me and y/n here have made plans to go beyond and explore the realms of possibilities of which through art later tonight.” Xavier iterated the last part in a tone he knew would get to you, in the end you couldn’t help but snort as you smacked his shoulder. “Stop talking like that, I’ll think I’ll piss myself.” You croaked through your laughter as you leant against Xavier for support.

“Too much information y/n,” Xavier grimaced but he sucked at keeping it up as his lips cracked into a bigger smile, “just too much information.” Whilst you both were distracted with your laughter, Enid could see that Wednesday was gesturing for something lurking under your table with her head and when she went to angled herself better to see what it was and to her surprise; Thing could be seen unlacing Xavier’s shoelaces before tying them back together again in a fashion that would have him take a personal greeting with the floor before scampering off back to where he came.

Now Enid never pegged Wednesday as the prankster type, considering the fact that she had told her time and time again that she was above such childish shenanigans. Yet here she was, having Thing pull pranks on her behalf all because she was jealous. “You’re right,” Wednesday uncharacteristically admitted, “must’ve got my dates incorrect, how foolish of me.” She then shrugs but before she leaves your table; Wednesday looked back over her shoulder, “Xavier.” She said. “Yeah?” He replied, albeit confused. “Watch your step.” Was all she said before walking away, leaving Enid to hastily bid you both goodbye as she rushed to catching up to her before mouthing something neither of you could decipher.

“What did she meant by that?” Xavier asked as he looked at you, watching the back of Wednesday’s head as she faded from view. “No idea but hearing that come from her? It’s probably not a good thing.” You admitted, sensing that something was off with Wednesday but you knew better then to openly confront a hostile animal. She wouldn’t budge an inch. So you decided that it would be best to let her work through whatever it was that she was going through in her own time. “Well that’s real reassuring.” Xavier said glumly before slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“We better get going before we’re late to herbology class.” He adds as he goes to stand up but as he attempts to move out from his seat; Xavier notices a little too late that his shoes were mysteriously tied together, causing him to trip over himself and fall flat on the floor with a yelp. “Oh my god, Xavier are you alright!” You exclaimed as you scrambled to help him up off of the floor, dusting him down of any dirt that might’ve lingered. “I understood what she meant by that now.” Xavier grimaced in pain. You both ended up being late for class by a couple of minutes due to Xavier stopping to unlace his shoes and tying them back up properly before practically sprinting across Nevermore towards your next lesson.

The next time Wednesday walked in on you and Xavier bonding, it wasn’t until nightfall that she came across the sound of laughter filling the air, growing louder and louder the closer she got to the abandoned shed Xavier had tricked out into an art studio. Her blood still boiled with how at ease Xavier seemed whenever he got physical with you and how you never seem to bask in his affection. She despised her Achilles heel which was you and the illogical thoughts you brought up within her head, causing her to loose rational train of thought and sleep as she now wandered the school grounds late at night in hopes for sleep to greet her. However Wednesday found herself stood outside the shed where she could hear yours and Xavier’s conversation loud and clear.

“You messy pup! Your getting paint on everything except the canvas!” Xavier exclaimed though it was in good nature considering how quick he was to laugh. “We’ll maybe if I had more to go on then the bullshit excuse of ‘painting with my heart.’ Then I wouldn’t be such a messy pup then would I?” You replied, reduced to a laughing fit of your own. It was obvious to Wednesday that you were both having fun, so much fun in fact that she believed that she was the last thing on your mind. You rarely visited her and Enid in their dorm anymore, too busy having Xavier occupying your time. Seemingly possessed by the betrayal she was feeling in that moment, Wednesday forcefully opened the door in time to see Xavier stand a breaths width away from you, holding your face in his hands as his thumb rubs away at some remnants of paint.

His gaze seemed a little too intense for Wednesday’s liking as she took into account of the way he looked at you that same exact way she caught herself looking at you; as though you’ve painted the night sky of which you hung the stars from. Your eyes darted to hers as they widened at the realisation of how this looked to other people but before you could open your mouth to say anything. Wednesday had already slammed the door shut behind her as she left. Xavier knew there was something between you and Wednesday and he wanted to help you in expressing your feelings in a way that didn’t suffocate Wednesday. However it seemed that she might’ve misunderstood this as him making a move on you which couldn’t be further from the truth. “Go after her.” Xavier said, stepping away from you.

“She won’t believe me-“ “well then try to make her believe you.” Xavier stopped you before you could admit defeat. “You like this girl don’t you?” He asked, “of course I do Xavier, I like her very, very much.” You admitted, feeling the tears of frustration well up in the corner of your eyes. Xavier smiled softly as he cross the room to open the door, “Then go get her, tiger.” He urges as he gestured towards the silhouette of Wednesday that was slowly fading away from view the further and further away she got. You smiled at Xander, “thank you.” You said to him before bolting out of the art studio and after Wednesday as fast as your legs could carry you.

“You got this!” You heard Xavier exclaim from behind which only pushed you even further forward as you darted past trees, bushes, the archery range until you could vaguely make out Wednesday making her way to the front of the building that lead up to her dorm in Ophelia Hall. “Wednesday!” You called, uncaring of who you woke up in the process, the only thing that mattered to you was setting things straight. “Wednesday wait, I need to talk to you!” You saw Wednesday stop at the doors and you almost felt like collapsing when you finally caught up to her, leaving heavily on the door as you struggled to filling your lungs with the sufficient amount of oxygen.

“What do you want.” Wednesday snapped. She hadn’t meant to stop but something within her told her that she’d be better off hearing you out. “I’m going to cut the bullshit and get to the point,” you said through gasps, coughing briefly before taking a deep breath, “I like you Wednesday Addams. I like you a lot, I’ve been meaning to find ways of telling you how I feel that wouldn’t overwhelm you or make you uncomfortable. So I’ve taken to asking Xavier for advice because he’s and artist and shit as you know.” Wednesday felt a familiar fluttering in her chest as you continued to explain yourself when all she really cared enough to hear was that you liked her and only did what you did as to not force her out of her comfort zone for you.

So instead of letting you continue your long winded explanation, Wednesday merely grabbed ahold of your shirt, pulling you into her lips as she gave you a chaste kiss before shoving you away slightly. Your wide eyed expression had a smile creep up on Wednesday’s face as she quickly composed herself. “I like you too,” she headed you silently cheer to yourself, “however you can start repaying me for sacrificing our time together by joining me on the astrology tower tomorrow night.” Your eyes widened and your smile stretched across your face. “Like a date, a date date?” Wednesday couldn’t help but scoff at your choice of words before replying, “yes, like a date date.”

[b1rds3ye]

Hi! Hello! I'm not sure if I can make a request, but if I can here's my request!

Can you do an LED mask reader who has a workshop underneath the base that the 141 doesn't know about (except Price, he approved it he just didn't tell the others, he didn't tell Shepherd too)

And when someone breaks something (like a gadget) they tell them to come to their workshop so they can fix it

It's okay if you don't do this! I just really like the idea :)

YES YES YES PLS THIS IS SO CUTE!! (Also PLEASE don't be afraid to invade my askbox, it's always open for brainrot, requests and the such~) Unfortunately I couldn't really incorporate the mask into this, just reader being a lil gremlin I hope that's okay 😭

The base has bunkers in case of an emergency and evacuation, but there are some passages and dead-ends that have become completely neglected. Price doesn't know how the hell you caught wind of those abandoned rooms but with his authority combined with Laswell's, they manage to allocate a space for you without the knowledge of any stuffy generals like Shepherd.

While it takes some months until anyone else in the 141 is invited to your underground workshop, they do know something is up. One minute you're around and then the next you've disappeared and unreachable (the first few weeks when you cleaned up the bunkers there was absolutely no signal underground). However they had enough faith in you and Price's lack of concern was signal enough to calm down.

It was only when Soap had come back from a mission, he could only groan in despair at his battered hardware. He's normally a clean demolitions expert, but a mission going south quicker than he could blink meant that his typical tools had succumbed to the explosions he set off. Unable to say no to Johnny's pout as he looked around at everyone like a kicked puppy, you eventually give him a reassuring pat on the back.

"See me downstairs, I'll fix it."

... what?

Johnny - as well as Gaz and Ghost who watched the exchange - just stare at you silently as you walk away. Downstairs? You mean the run down evacuation tunnels that are so run down and poorly maintained they're probably more of a death trap than whatever could be up above? But sure enough, you walk in the direction to one of the known entrances to the bunkers and they hastily chase after you (Price also following a little behind because he just knows this is going to be entertaining).

When they find you downstairs, even Price is in awe of what you've done with the place. It's filled with various forms of high-end tech. An impressive blend of both software running automatically on clean screens and gritty hardware that's sprawled across various workbenches and occasionally forgotten on the ground. There's only a singular hanging light at the center of the ceiling, but with a fresh bulb and the ambient light of all your other technology, the place is lit more than enough.

"Bloody hell..." Kyle pulls away from the rest of the 141 and joins you, his eyes following the curves and dips of a nearby piece of machinery he has never seen before but the general shape has him half convinced it's a bloody bomb.

"Like what you see?" You turn to the rest of the task force. You can't stop yourself from straightening your back in pride as the boys were clearly in awe of your handiwork.

"You were hiding this from us?" Simon asks. His voice always has a bite but you could tell that he was just stupefied, his question not just directed to you as he shoots a look to Price who stifles a smug smirk.

"We had some spare space," Price explains. "Thought it could use the renovation."

"Renovation? You rebuilt this from the ground up," Johnny exclaims, taking in the room as if it was a hidden hoard of treasures.

"Say, you'd let us pay you a visit down here, yeah?" Kyle turns back to you, eyes gleaming. The rest of the task force join in their own way. Johnny's nodding enthusiastically, John cocks an eyebrow at you, and even Simon tilts his head in curiosity, waiting for your next words.

"Hm..." you look away, bringing a finger to your chin and tapping it in contemplation. Eventually you let out a huff as you snatch Johnny's broken gear from his hands and start shooing them out. "I'll have to think about it. I'll get back to you in five to seven business days."

Johnny starts animatedly protesting but lets himself be pushed by you out of the door. Kyle laughs while Price hushes them all. Below all the commotion was an underlying understanding and agreement. You don't even need to say it aloud but they'll all certainly be crashing at your underground workshop and they were more than welcome to. In truth, as much as you loved having your private workshop, the only thing that could make it better was entrusting it with the dearest people in your lives.

Call of Duty Masterlist

[genshin-side-piece]

Tell Me You Are Mine

Hopefully he'll leave me alone now.

Sequel to : Love Me Tender & Love Me True

Warnings: Yandere Content, Dark themes, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Captivity, Implied Stalking, Somnophilia, Non-Consensual Touching, Sexual themes, not smut (sorry),Not Fluff, Uncomfortable themes, not a portrayal of Stockholm Syndrome, but can be interpreted that way, my bad writing, anything else I missed, 18+, Minors DNI

“Good afternoon.” As if by instinct, your jaw tightened at the sound of his soft voice. A swift glance out of the window told you he was early. Way early. Normally, it was closer to dinner when Neuvillette made his presence felt.0 The golden light of the setting sun seemed to herald his return. The second it began to peak through the soft sheer curtains that hung on all the windows, you made every attempt to hide. Drawing room, breakfast room, the back corridor that led to the servants quarters. It didn’t matter. He always found you. Even after you slipped your little wardens or convinced them to give you privacy, he still found you within minutes of his arrival. It was almost like he had a sixth sense in that regard.

As of late, you had taken advantage of the mild weather, opting for one of the more out of the way spaces so that you might enjoy your novels in peace. You had read the one that was currently in your hand a hundred times before today. It was one of the few pieces of fiction you were permitted to read, therefore it brought you the greatest joy you could muster. The escapism was a much needed break from the monotony you faced on a day to day basis. Which was why his gentle voice breaking your train of thought at the best part was nothing short of annoying. Especially when his presence was neither expected or invited. “I see that with the change in season, you’ve adopted a new spot. This room does keep the afternoon light longer than the drawing room. With the days becoming shorter, I imagine it is exemplary for reading before dinner.” You tried not to visibly roll your eyes as you made every attempt to ignore him. The faster this was over, the faster you could enjoy your solitude before you were forced to perform the abhorrent ritual that was dinner. “I wonder if you are at a stopping point. I have something I wish to show you.” There was an unusual giddiness that his calm voice generally lacked. He was uncharacteristically excited about something. That generally meant one thing. “A present, of sorts.” A heavy sigh was your only reaction. He had already tried to shower you in presents as a lame attempt at an apology. Aside from the book in your hand, all the others had fallen flat. The only time he got to see them was when you felt he was in need of punishment. Where you forced him to see and be near the version of you that he so desperately wanted, the version that you would never let him have. “Please, I have been working on it for quite some time. Will you let me show you?” The sheer hope in his voice grated on your nerves. Every instinct in you said no. Mentally you wanted to crush that hope he had. If you did, then perhaps he might finally see there was nothing to gain in keeping you here beyond your mutual misery. Once he realized that, then he might grant you the one thing you so desperately wanted, which was to let you go. “Is it not something you can leave on the table for me?” You didn’t bother to take your eyes away from the page you had been reading. Instead, you made a half hearted gesture in the general direction of the rest of the room. “I am afraid not.” Gods above you hated he sounded pleased, but you supposed he got something he wanted from the brief interaction. You had avoided speaking to him for weeks now. “This gift has a bit more permanence to it.” You furrowed your brow in confusion. Permanence? Another sigh escaped you, this one smaller than the last. You couldn’t deny that after months of trying, he finally didn’t something that made you want to know more. 

With zero flourish you closed your book, giving him what he truly wanted, which was your full attention. The soft smile he offered you as a reward for your compliance was no less annoying than his voice. “I will need to escort you to it, but afterwards you are free to go there on your own.” He toyed with his fingers for a moment, a tick you had noticed whenever he was nervous. Your eyes narrowed at it, momentarily focusing on his hands, questioning the action. On closer inspection of Neuvillette you noticed he was as rigid as a board. His frame lacked the somewhat relaxed countenance his normal posture tended to have. From your vantage point, you could see that small beads of sweat had begun to form on his brow, while his eyes swirled with what you could only guess were the emotions he refused to acknowledge or show. Neuvillette was always so calm, so collected. He never exercised anything but absolute control over himself around you. The only time he had come close to losing that control was when someone had dared to threaten one of the melusines. The weather had seemed to match the fury that filled him as the storms lasted for days. 

Now was nothing like that time. His mood, his posture, even the slight shakiness in his speech was nothing short of bizarre. You blinked, a realization washing over you. God, it couldn’t be, could it? Was he nervous? Another look at him told you all you needed to know. His handsome face was strained, struggling to hold the disarming smile he was wearing. The sweat on his brow was growing by the second. He actually broke eye contact with you long enough, to allow his smile to fall into a slight frown. What made his present state so curious was that he never got nervous when giving you something. It was often left for you in your room or he would drop it on a table nearby and wait for you to open it. Why was this different? “Will you allow me to escort you?” The expectation in his voice grew. He sounded almost desperate for you to say yes, for you to take down the invisible barrier between you long enough for him to get close to you. Based on his proximity to you, he had already broken it, but given that he had you cornered there wasn’t much you could do other than say no. “Please?”

Again it was a chance to hurt him beyond all measure. To just absolutely crush him, possibly once and for all. The longing in his eyes alone would make it worth it, but for once, your better judgment granted him a reprieve. While Neuvillette was many things to you, the one thing he was not, was intentionally cruel. He had never been abusive, nor had he ever raised his hands to you to bring you harm. Even at your worst, when you could do nothing but scream at him, he just took it. He never interrupted, never raised an objection to a single thing you said. He just let you rage at him until the anger that had possessed you left your body, reducing you to a quivering, sobbing mess. Then he would still be there; a glass of cold water and handkerchief in hand, ready to comfort you should you wish him to.

His compassion for your situation, despite being the cause of it, was the only reason you bit your tongue now. Over the many months you had been with him, you had come to the realization that while you loathed his actions, you did not necessarily loathe him. At least not entirely. You were still angry. You still sought your petty revenge. You still denied him all that you could, but crushing his hope, crushing him felt needlessly cruel. His motives had come from a decent place, as had his actions. At the time he had believed something horrible had happened to you. With a serial killer lurking, you could make yourself understand it. In some way it was almost flattering. The Iudex of Fontaine cared enough for you that he came to personally rescue you from harm. What you resented was not what he had done before, it was what he did now. You despised being kept, but your abhor at your own situation was not a good enough reason to harm him like that. Deep down, you knew it would not bring you the outcome you desired, nor would it bring anyone any satisfaction. If anything, it may make things worse for both you and the nation as a whole. Living with a kind man was easy, you often shuddered to think what kind of man Neuvillette could be if he wished to see someone suffer. Given his place in the world, it wouldn’t be difficult at all if he wished that upon you. His little friends were all too happy to tell you about the caverns and caves and oubliettes that lurked in the darkness beneath the waves. It would be nothing for him to disconnect from your world completely and send you to live in eternal darkness for the rest of your days. Your entire body involuntarily grew cold at just the thought. 

It was easy to forget Neuvillette was dangerous. His calm nature and gentile manners were a clever mask for the power that laid just beneath the surface. You had heard the rumors, same as all the rest. It was all the melusines had talked about for days. They had fretted and fawned over the events that had taken place. Neuvillette had recently had to suppress an outburst in court. The offender had managed to land a blow, but it had only been by luck. Not even a blink of an eye later and the individual in question had been subdued thanks to Neuvillette’s strength. The entire interaction had lasted seconds. You knew based on your own experiences with him that he wouldn’t even need that for you. It was another sobering reminder that his treatment of you was a choice. He chose to love you, just as he chose to be gentle with you. But you knew, even gentle people had their limits. You briefly wondered where his actually were, if rejecting him now would push him past the point of no return. You silently worried if you could weather that kind of storm. 

Reconsidering your options, you took a second look at the current situation. Unlike past gifts that were left for you, this one was different. He had arrived unexpectedly, nervous and hopeful, with something he could not simply hand you. Neuvillette had to escort you. It possessed permanence. To say that you were cautiously intrigued more than you were worried was not an understatement. It was impossible for you to imagine what it could be. “Petit?” The intrusion of his voice, distracted you from your thoughts. You looked at him again, his nervous feelings were clear as day now. The smile had fallen in favor of pursed lips and concerned eyes. “Will you walk with me?”  “Will it take long?” You did your best to sound disinterested, quickly using your book as an excuse. “I was at the best part.” A breathy chuckle escaped Neuvillette’s lips, followed by what felt like a sigh of relief. “Not long at all petit chou. In fact, bring it with you. I believe it may come in handy.” That statement only served to encourage your curiosity further.

The walk was a quiet one. Neuvillette either wasn’t in the mood for small talk or thanks to the situation, he had been rendered silent thanks to his nerves. You found that fact irksome. The one time you wanted him to speak to you, to tell you what was going on, he wouldn’t. Neuvillette was stalwart in his silence. The only sound that passed between you was the sound of his robes moving in time with his body as he silently led you to wherever you were going. His home in comparison to yours was quite large, but in reality not so big that you wouldn’t be able to reach a set of locked double doors within a few minutes. You noted there wasn’t anything particularly special about them. The only thing unique to them was that they were on the north side of the house, a place you rarely ventured as Neuvillette’s office and chambers were located on this side. It made complete sense the object in question was on this side. If it possessed any sort of permanence, then it was logical that he would keep it close. 

There was no fanfare when he unlocked the doors before you. No music. No confetti. No shouts or utterances of the word surprise. Just an open door and second set of doors, that led to a walled garden. To what you gathered later was his extreme pleasure, your jaw hit the floor. 

It was a peace offering between you and him. A cage within a cage really. The stone walls were far too smooth and far too tall for you to scale, but that didn’t detract from the meaning behind his gift. Neuvillette was expanding your privileges, offering you a semblance of freedom in a world where you had none. Here, you would have the feeling of the sun and the wind and rain on your skin. You could hear the sounds of the court, albeit at a distance. You could even detect the faintest scent of the sea as it hung in the air. All the things you had lost the day he had taken you. All the things you had yearned for since being locked behind the heavy stone walls of his home. After the first few weeks of being here, you hadn’t asked for them to be returned to you. Neuvillette had made it clear that they wouldn’t be. His personal matra to you was that the outside world was dangerous. You were not safe. He had done his best to protect you from afar, but it had not been good enough. Your trip outside the city had triggered him to the point that he felt the only solution for his dilemma was to keep you in a place where you could be monitored full time. If you wanted sun or rain, then you could gaze at them through the filtered light of the windows. If you wished to smell the sea, then you would have to be near him to do so. As of that moment, you would never be in the outside world again. It had absolutely crushed you. “I know it is quite late in the year to gift this to you. I offer my apologies for that oversight. The meulsines and I were in agreement that it should be nothing short of perfect. Some of the flowers were also quite difficult to grow. It was insisted upon that as many of them as possible were to be in bloom when this was presented to you.” He hesitated. “I do hope you like it.” 

The trepidation in his voice pulled your attention back to him. There was a pang of guilt for how you had treated his gifts in the past. Your lack of appreciation where he was concerned had made the act offering anything to you, gift or otherwise, a challenging one. It was another sobering reminder that Neuvillette himself wasn’t a bad man. His intent towards you had not and was not malicious. Everything he had ever done for you had come from a place of admiration, of love. Even now, as he stared at you, almost bracing himself for the negative reaction you were sure to have, he still looked at you like the moon and the stars hung by your hands. For the first time since arriving, you felt cracks form in the ice around your heart. “It’s-” You paused, allowing yourself a moment to take the entire space in again. “It’s wonderful.” You bowed your head slightly, doing your best to hide the genuine happiness that was bubbling up from inside of you. It was wonderful. You would never deny that. Outside of letting you go, this was the best thing he could ever give you. “Thank you.” Your downcast eyes missed the look of utter relief that washed it’s way across his face. “I am glad then.” There was a breathy laugh that followed that. “Cosanzeana has been so worried over the flowers. She cultivated many of them, just for you. It will be a great comfort to her to know that you like them.” You nodded, bringing your eyes up to meet his once again. “This is not just for today. Going forward, it is reserved solely for your own use. No one will trouble you here unless it is for an emergency or we are preparing to eat.” You didn't know what to say to that. What could you say? Your own place? Your own private place? Better still, you could use it whenever you wished. You felt as if you had witnessed a miracle. While the garden certainly wasn’t the freedom you desired, it was a giant step towards achieving it. Allowing you this was a sign of trust. One that you were sure to take complete advantage of as time went on. “I only ask that you be mindful of the weather, especially when winter arrives. It would be most disagreeable if you caught a chill due to overexposure to the elements.” You nodded, silently agreeing with that sentiment. Becoming ill would be incredibly disagreeable considering he and the meulsines would be the ones to take care of you should you become that way.  He had already gotten close enough as it was. Giving him a legitimate reason to be so near you, to touch you, was something you couldn’t bear. “If you are content, then I shall take my leave until this evening.”

“Monsieur.” You thickly swallowed, watching him pause as you called after him. The look in his eyes made you falter slightly. They were brimming with adoration. Instinctively you knew he was pleased as punch that this had gone as well as it had. That he had done something to make you happy. Even if it was only for a few moments, he had managed to pull a genuine smile out of you. It had been the point of all of his gifts. He wanted to make you forget that for that moment he wasn’t your keeper. That you weren’t a captive. He wanted to paint the illusion for himself that you were both happy. Up until now, you had resisted. All the fine things he had presented you did little to achieve the lie he wanted. They did nothing to change the circumstances in which you lived. Clothes would never open the locks that kept you here. Jewelry could never help you get away from the walls that surrounded you. Only the book in your hand had given you even the slightest hint of escape. It was why it was your favorite and you imagined that now, like your book, this too would become a favorite. That should have been enough in your eyes. He gave you a garden, you would use it on the days that the weather would permit. That should be the end of it. Your conscience, though, disagreed. Maybe it was your own guilt for how you had acted, but in your mind a step deserved to be met with a step. The use of the space didn’t seem like a proper thank you. Even if it would bring you his unwanted attention, in this instance, you decided to make an exception and go one step further. “We have a while before dinner. Perhaps-” You gently sighed as he continued to stare at you with those eyes of his. Damn them for being so beautiful. Damn him for being as he was. Damn yourself for making you say what you were about to say. “The weather has been very nice as of late. It seems a shame to enjoy it alone. Would you care to sit with me?” His normally pale skin flushed. Neuvillette looked as if you could knock his lithe frame over with a feather.

“I-” He cleared his throat, the blush on his cheeks growing as he visibly fought his own surprise at the invitation. “I had thought of catching up on some work before dinner.” You raised your eyebrows almost stunned for a moment. He wasn’t going to refuse, was he? Surely he couldn’t. Not when you knew the invitation alone was something he yearned for. Briefly, you considered he would be well within his right. You had given him a rare chance to pay you back for your behavior for the last few months. To your surprisingly great relief though, he did not. “But I believe it can wait until after we eat.” The spirit of peace between you continued, with Neuvillette accepting your olive branch, just as graciously as you had accepted his. “I would be all too happy to join you mon petit.”

[bobbyseyesmile]

Come again?

Morgan’s dark eyes followed you around the room as you stopped to pour yourself some more coffee to properly start the day. You ignored him when you sat down at your desk but you couldn’t ignore your best friends huge smile so you looked up from your laptop.

“Okay, what is it?” you asked, directed at Morgan and Emily. Both shared a quick look before their eyes shifted back, right at you.

“New hair, huh?”

You rolled your eyes but got excited; of course your very attentive colleagues would notice but would the very weird nerd across the room notice it as well?

Just when you opened your mouth to give Morgan a sarcastic reply Garcia walked into the room, her eyes cold and concentrated. Uh-oh, this would be a bad case. But as soon as her eyes met you a smile curled around her lips.

“Meow, mama! What’s with the sexy hair? And is that a new top as well- jeez, you look hot!” You felt your cheeks redden but couldn’t hide your amusement. “Thanks… you think it’s too much?”

“Oh sugar, it’s never too much pizazz. In fact, the world lacks it-“ she sighed which made Morgan shook his head while laughing “But! I know you didn’t dress that sexy for me, which makes me, to be honest, a bit sad but I get it.”

“Get what?” you turned your head towards Emily who had her eyebrows raised. “You got dressed up for someone in the office?!”

“Of course she did…” Morgan smirked “Should have known. So, tell us, who’s the lucky fella?”

Garcia giggled. “World best profilers in this room and you don’t know??” You turned red again and jumped from your seat. “Shouldn’t we discuss the new case? I bet Hotch is already waiting for us.” You gathered some papers and walked away, ignoring their snickering in the background.

“That woman is mysterious.” Morgan whispered but turned his head when Garcia put a hand on his shoulder. “Oh not at all, my love. That woman is just madly in love.” The quirky blonde turned her head and the friends followed her glance to the curly-haired man across the room.

“Seriously?” a small snort escaped the black man “It’s Reid?”

Spencer walked into the circled office when he noticed all eyes on him. Well, not all eyes because yours were fixed on the file in front of you. You didn’t even look up for a second and it gave him a bitter taste in his mouth. You hated him, he was sure… or maybe it wasn’t hate but surely a strong dislike of some sort.

You always turned red when he made a joke or the one time he complimented your hair- you must have been so angry with him, why else turn red?

“Hey wonder boy, we’ve waited.” Morgan turned in his chair and gave him a cheeky smile which Spencer tried to dismiss. “Sorry, I got lost. I’m currently reading Finnegans Wake again; my bookclub decided to study the consciousness writing style as well as the abandonment of narrative conventions to determine-“

“I’m sorry-“ Morgan raised his hands “I’ll never criticise you again but please for the love of all good, stop talking.”

Spencer noticed the way your fingers trembled against the papers. Great, he did it again. He bored you.

“Why study a book that’s literally so complicated that the general public didn’t even read it?” Emily asked and Spencer opened his mouth but was interrupted by Hotch.

“LA needs us-“ he clicked on the small remote control and a series of gruesome pictures filled the screen “They got an Unsub who hunts young women for their hearts. He cuts them out while they’re still alive.”

“Cuts them out? Dear god….” JJ mumbled but that wasn’t even the worst part.

“The coroner determined that he uses a dull knife. These women lived through the whole ordeal.”

Two days later and the team already presented a profile but couldn’t find a viable suspect so the mission continued into nowhere until Hotch came up with a plan.

“Y/N?” he asked and you looked up “Please come see me.” You walked in the small office and closed the doors as your boss presented you with his idea on how to catch this Unsub. The small hairs on your back stood up but you did exactly what Hotch thought you would: You accepted.

“So, did I get this right? We use Y/N as bait for this guy?” Morgan asked once again and you nodded.

“I’m his type. This will work.” Your voice was a bit shaky but you were still determined to stop this utter psychopath.

“Excuse me but we’re dealing here with a deranged psychopath who’s most likely a cannibal and you want Y/N near him?!” It was the first time that Spencer Reid lost his cool in front of Hotch and questioned his very decisions.

“He’s not going to hurt her, Reid-“

“Yeah, he better not.” the younger huffed “This is bullshit.”

“Spencer-“ you said softly and touched his arm “We need to catch this guy, you said it yourself how dangerous he is.”

“Catching him is not worth to put you in immediate danger.” he shook your hand away and angrily ran his fingers through his hair.

“We leave in ten minutes.” Hotch mumbled before getting up and signalling the others to leave you two alone.

“Spence-“ you tried again but he shook his head. “There has to be another way.”

“Of course there could be another way but this is the fastest. No other young woman should die.”

“You don’t understand” His voice was shaky and he let out a small laugh “I can’t lose you.” Spencer noticed your reddened cheeks and sighed. “Doesn’t matter how angry you get and how much you hate me but-“

“Woah, Spencer, hold up. What do you mean?”

“I know you’re always angry at me and usually I try to ignore it or, or I don’t know, blame it on my weird nature but this? I can’t let you do this.”

“I’m never angry with you, what are you talking about?” You raised your eyebrows in confusion and it made him stop in his tracks.

“You know, the reddened cheeks, your flared nostrils and always looking at the ground when I’m talking. Those are clear signs of hate or disgust.”

“For someone that smart you are pretty dense, Dr. Reid.” you gave him a soft smile and he looked at you in confusion. “Spencer, I like you. A lot. What you’re describing is me being shy and embarrassed.”

“Come again?” he asked and you took a step in his direction.

“I like you, dumbass.”

Spencer was frozen when he felt your lips on his own. You liked him? The moment he felt you withdraw, his hands were on your hips, stopping you. He felt you smiling against his lips and he smiled back. „Guess I need some profiling tipps, huh?“

„I can help with that.“

You’ll only find my work posted here and and on my AO3 blog. I don’t give consent for my work to be re-posted (in any language) onto any other platform, even if it is with credit. Thank you.

[tiredfox64]

Let’s Keep This a Secret

Prior notes: I like my men a little scary. He got me giggling, kissing my feet, and crying in horror. Also I just really wanted to post something of mine and change it up.

Pairing: Reiko x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: Do you fear skin to skin contact?

You were only a baby when your mom married General Shao. You never viewed him as your stepfather, he was always your father. He raised you as if you were blood related to him. He promised to protect you and love you as his own.

And protect he did, from any and everything. Especially boys.

The older you got, the more attention you attracted. Not only were you the general’s daughter but you had your mother’s beauty. Many men wanted to get with you for the fact that you were pretty and they wanted the general’s admiration. That never happened. Shao would never allow a boy to step close to you at all. The only one who would ever get close was Reiko. Yet even Reiko had a hard time getting to know you.

When you both were young he rarely cared about getting to know you. He was an orphan who lost his parents to the war. All he cared about was what General Shao had to say to him. He listened well to every order he gave. After a while Shao almost started to see him like a son. Still not a good enough position to let near his daughter.

In fact, Shao thought you shouldn’t be seeing the grueling and harsh conditions it takes to be part of his army. It’s better that you don’t know. But you did want to know. You have the right to know. Plus you wanted to know a thing or two since Shao didn’t want to teach you anything. He said he would protect you, he meant it. Why do you need to know how to protect yourself when you got him. It just pushed you away from Reiko even more.

You would find reasons to go over though. Every time you would come around to the training grounds you would always look for Reiko. At this point he was the lieutenant to your dad’s army. How could you not be drawn to a man with power and authority. When he was the only man in your life that your dad somewhat let you close to, you started to be attracted to him. Seeing those milky white eyes take a glance at you made you excited. However, no matter how old you got your father would not allow you anywhere near.

You had to take matters into your own hands. You went out with friends one night. As you were out you realized no one would be able to stop you from talking to any boys. The only person who could stop you was yourself, and you did stop yourself. You were too nervous to be around other guys or even say a word to them. Shao was to blame for your lack of social skills when it came to men. The only person who you could fathom talking to was…Reiko! Of course! Why didn’t you think of him before? You should go see if he is anywhere around.

Your friends were not too keen on sticking around and running to the training grounds. They didn’t want to get in trouble and they were actually scared of Reiko. Not many women go after him believe it or not. They begged you not to go but you were determined. You walked off on your own, your heart pumping with nervousness and excitement. As you expected you saw Reiko at the training grounds. Lucky you.

You hid behind a tree, not wanting to disturb his training. You looked with curious eyes as you watched him get some extra training in. His shurikens would strike the wooden dummy. His aim was precise. Every time he would fling them he would let out a grunt that made your stomach do twirls. The way the sweat on his muscles glistened in the moonlight and how his hair slightly blew in the light breeze made you think you were looking at nature’s finest specimen. You didn’t realize you were being drawn towards him in that moment and you stepped over a stick. It snapped and Reiko’s head snapped towards your direction. You gasp as you went back to hiding behind the tree. You were worried you had ruined everything. Closer and closer you heard him make his way towards you in a quick pace. Then there was silence. In one fell swoop he turned the corner and was right in front of you, pushing you against the tree. His knife was out but once he realized it was you he made sure not to have it too close.

“Oh, it’s just the general’s daughter. Why are you out here so late?” He spoke to you in his usual gruff voice.

You couldn’t say anything since you were so excited that he actually spoke to you. You stared up at him all stupid-like but with eyes filled with awe. Reiko was very confused but he backed away from you once he realized he was way too close. He put his knife away and was thinking of just leaving you be before thinking for a second. If somehow you got hurt while out here alone his ass could be on the line. The last thing he wants is for the general to see that his daughter got hurt and find out that his loyal lieutenant let her walk away all alone in the night. Yeah, no, not willing to risk it.

“Come on, let me get you back home. Your father won’t like this.” He warned you but you didn’t care.

He yanked on your arm and dragged you away, gently though cause he can’t hurt you in the slightest. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his arm. He flinched and was about to push you away but he stopped himself.

Don’t hurt the general’s daughter. Don’t hurt the general’s daughter.

He groaned but kept walking while you clung onto him. You kept staring up at him all starry eyed. He looks even more handsome up close. He felt your eyes on him and he had no idea what was up with you. Actually everyone’s eyes were on him and you. The general’s daughter was clinging onto a man? Impossible! Reiko was letting a woman cling onto him? That’s even more impossible! It was so frustrating to him to be in this position but he had a task and he had to finish it.

The moment he brought you to the door of your home and the door opened you were off him immediately. That dazed expression was gone and you looked focused as you looked up at your dad. Reiko was confused but carried on as he explained that he was just bringing you home. Shao thanked Reiko for bringing you back home safe and before he could scold you, you gave him those sad puppy dog eyes that get you out of most situations. And then the excuses came about how you lost track of time, you got separated from your friends, some of them bailed on you, blah, blah, blah. Shao just took all that you said as a fact. His sweet girl could never do wrong. You walked inside your home, giving Reiko a wave goodbye before closing the door. That smile on your face was full of joy. You were up in your room kicking your feet and thinking about your moment with Reiko. You’re definitely doing this again.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

It’s like every week at this point. You go out with friends, you sneak off to see Reiko training, he catches you and brings you home, you make up your excuses, rinse and repeat.

Reiko caught on that this was definitely intentional. He started letting you stay with him for a bit, not wanting to cut his training time just for you. Then y’all started talking. You talked about your home life, what you like to do, your hobbies, your friends, etcétera etcétera. He first ignored you but the moment you seemed hurt by the fact he wasn’t listening he got his act together and started listening. Once he did he realized you weren’t that bad. You weren’t annoying or stupid. In fact you were even kind of cute when you told him about your life. Woah, did he just find someone cute?

He started opening up to you, speaking about his past and his present. It actually made him feel better to have someone listen to what happened to him other than Shao. He was surprised that even when he said something negative about your dad you wouldn’t judge him or having him punished for speaking his mind. Even he who is loyal to Shao can get upset by the things he does.

You and Reiko grew closer and closer to the point you guys would forget how late it was getting. He would immediately rush you home, holding your hand to guide you back. At this point Shao was getting highly suspicious of you. Why were you coming back so late and never coming back with your friends? You just shrugged it off and told him he was getting too worked up. You pushed your way inside and the moment your dad turned his back to you, you swiftly turned around, grabbed Reiko’s face, and placed a light kiss on his lips. He was stunned but couldn’t say anything in that moment. You just waved goodbye like usual and closed the door. So you just gonna leave a man hanging like that?

Alright clearly there was much more going on between you two. You made it clear to Reiko that you wanted to be something more. That explained your strange behavior from the beginning. You just had a mega crush on him. You got him hooked he won’t deny that. He’s never loved someone and he didn’t know how. All he knows is fighting and war. But you can teach him, and teach him you did. You both were learning and you found out what felt right for you two. The kissing, the touching, the love language. It slowly became clearer and you two were compatible. You were over the moon. Finally, you had a boyfriend. A man you can trust and felt safe with. Hopefully whenever your dad finds out he won’t kill Reiko. He can’t kill his best lieutenant, right?

Oh just remembering it all gives you butterflies. Sigh

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Did you have a good time going down memory lane? Good! Cause someone is knocking on your window. Go open it!

You yank the curtains away and see Reiko at your windowsill. You quickly open the window and he leaps in. You are surprise by the fact he managed to climb all that way up to your window just to see you again. It was risky since you should be asleep at this time but you were up thinking about Reiko nonstop.

“What are you doing here? I thought you would have already left.” You whisper to him.

“How could I stay away from my woman. We just can’t get caught.” He picks you up in his strong arms and starts to kiss you.

He was much more rough in every sort of way. That means his kisses are too. You don’t mind at all. You like it. You like how rough he can get considering you were always treated so delicately.

Your legs wrap around his waist and your arms wrap around his neck while you two keep kissing. Your hands hold his face, letting your fingers feel his stubble. He walks over to your bed and places you down on it. You look up at him with the same sense of awe you got when you first saw him training.

“I think I’ll stay for the night. I did put in the effort to sneak in here, I think I deserve to stay.” He whispers in your ear.

You don’t say anything, you just smile and nod your head frantically to say yes. You two have done this before but you always get super happy to get the chance to have him sleep in your bed.

You know what makes it even better? Skin to skin contact!

He starts to take his armor off and places it down gently on the floor. Too much metal on there, it’s gonna freaking wake up your parents if it hits the floor. You take off your clothes as well. You thought you would be more nervous to get naked in front of somebody. You can’t even talk to other guys how are you gonna strip in front of them. But seeing how Reiko shows off his body with little shame since his armor exposes him quite a bit you felt that there was nothing to be worried about. If guys can have their chest out why can’t girls? Same thing, different structure.

Once you two were both naked you guys got into your bed, the sheets being the only thing to cover you both. He brings you in closer, his rough skin contrasting with your soft skin. His hands wander as he goes back to kissing you. Your hands went up to his head let down his hair. Your fingers rake through the thick strands. You wish he could always have his hair down. He looks so hot when he has it down.

You spend the rest of the time talking to each other, whispering to prevent anyone from hearing you. The close contact combined with the loving eye contact made you realize how lucky you are. Though Reiko is not perfect when it comes to love he does his best for you.

At the end of the night you two slowly succumb to the tiredness. He holds you close to him while he lays his head on your chest. It’s like his own personal pillow. He listens to your heartbeat as it slows down. Your arms are wrapped around his head as you caress him to sleep. Before you fall asleep yourself you have one more thing to say to him.

“I love you.” One more kiss to his forehead and you’re out like a light.

After notes: I want that man. I want that scary man. I wanna lick him. My fiancé pointed out that his nipples are too dark I don’t know why he ever pointed that out. It sent me into a spiral and I asked him who else got dark nipples and he said all of them. Fucking…really?! Anyways yeah I just wanted to switch it up cause I was doing SO MUCH when it came to the Lin Kuei brothers. I have no issue writing for them but it’s like I gotta do something else or I’ll start hating it. Not anyone’s fault that’s just how I am. Hope y’all can enjoy this. Adiós!

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 17

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16

M!troll x f!reader

1.7k words

Zen is nothing if not happy to learn. What he lacks in technique he definitely makes up for in sheer enthusiasm, for better or worse.

(I am feral over my own character, ask box is always open for talking about my writing or just monster fucking in general!)

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Even while tipsy Zen moved quickly. The moment you gave him a “yes” Zen had scooped you up from his lap and was nuzzling your face to the point of nearly knocking you over. You had never had a partner so eager and it was rather exciting to say the least.

He helped you undress, seemingly torn between going as fast as possible and taking his time enjoying the intimacy of it. His hands lingered on your waist once you were completely bare before him.

“How should I…” he trailed off and you were not sure if he was asking you or thinking out loud. Gently he guided you to lay back and he sat between your legs, his hands on top of your thighs while just just took you in. He leaned down until his tusks rested on top on you, sadly whining when he realized that it would not work and he could not reach you like this.

You reached down and ruffled his hair, though he just looked sad looking back up at you.

“It’s ok if it doesn’t work out” you reassured him.

“I want to” he insisted. He reached under you and gently lifted your hips to instead tuck his tusks under you, which seemed to work a little better. His lips brushed against your folds and you could feel just how hard he was purring. Tentatively he ran his tongue up between your folds, stopping just shy of your clit.

You let out a soft sigh and tangled your hand into his hair to scratch his head a bit.

“Is that alright?” he asked, the vibrations of his words against your skin and his purring felt incredible. It was nothing intense, but his gentleness with you combined with how he was looking up at you was definitely doing something.

“Mmhmm” you managed.

He continued slowly just licking you up and down, each time stopping just short of your clit and you could not tell if it was purposeful or not. You had not given him any directions, but you were hoping he would be a bit more adventurous with figuring it out. As his tongue got close to your clit again you gave his hair a firm tug to pull his face up farther.

Something between a yelp and a moan left his lips, clearly startled and he looked up at you in confusion.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rough” you quickly apologized.

“It is okay, you did not hurt me, just startled me” he leaned his face over to nuzzle your leg, “But did I do something you did not like?”

“No, no, you’re doing good, I just was hoping you’d go a little higher”.

Wordlessly he dragged his tongue up your center again, reaching as far as he could which only made his tusks dig into your backside more and made you squirm uncomfortably while he still could not reach.

“Can you try sitting up? That might help” he asked.

You sat up a bit, but with how he was lifting your hips and how his tusks were under you it was not particularly possible or comfortable.

“Can we change positions then? I have an idea” he asked.

He released his grip on you and helped you sit up before guiding you to be on your knees at edge of the bed. Kneeling before you on the floor he nudged your legs farther apart and wedged his tusks and face between them and pulled you down to rest your weight on his tusks. Slowly he helped you sit down on your feet with his tusks wedged under you, your knees bent on his shoulders, and now a much better angle for him to reach you.

Once more he ran his tongue between your folds, this time making contact with your clit and causing you to heave forward at his touch. You tangled your hands into the back of his hair and leaned on the top of his head for stability, which only seemed to encourage him.

He focused on your clit, experimenting with pressing his tongue against you firmly or flicking his tongue across until he found what made you just melt and collapse onto your arms on his head.

There was no precision or technique to his movements, it was sloppy, wet and drooly, he had no idea what to do and it hardly mattered. You could feel his purring through his tongue on your clit and it felt like he was trying to mimic how you made out with him earlier. His mouth was opened probably too much as he covered most of your cunt and lapped at your clit making an absolute mess but it felt incredible and made a warmth pool in your belly.

Your grip on his hair tightened, which only made him moan against you, adding to the vibrations from his purring. There was nothing elegant or sensual about it, it was messy and clumsy, but what he lacked in experience he more than made up for in enthusiasm though. He whimpered and moaned through his purrs. Occasionally he paused to gulp down air as he remembered to surface, tilting his head back to look up at you with a hazy and unfocused, but utterly happy expression.

The sight of him like this made your heart race. Him kneeling before you, face covered in your juices, and so happy looking, so happy to just be focused on you.

You leaned down so your lips brushed his ear and gave his hair a firm tug like he liked, “Good boy” you cooed at him.

You did not think you have ever such an incredible sound as the way Zen moaned from your words. He nuzzled the side of his head against you, his breathing was ragged as he continued to whimper against you while you tugged on his hair and played with it.

His tongue pressed against your entrance and this time you were the one to moan. Just like when he had kissed you back earlier, his tongue was larger than you were used to and took up a lot of space, pleasantly stretching you and reaching to your most sensitive spots.

“That feels so fucking good Zen” you moaned into his ear.

He continued working his tongue into you, exploring whatever he could reach and adjusting what he was doing until he was hitting your g-spot every time. With your arms wrapped around his head you pressed yourself against him, grinding against his face and panting praises into his ear, which only made him whimper and moan more.

It did not take you long to finish. The way he purred against you, the way his tongue filled you so perfectly, the sweet needy little whines and moans he made, it all added up to an intense experience. You felt how you clenched around his tongue, barely able to make a sound as the pooling pressure that had been building up finally released and you shuddered from the tingly waves of pleasure that dispersed through you.

There was also a new feeling, a gush of fluids that sprayed out. You were aware of the concept but still surprised, after all you had had plenty of sex in your life and never squirted before. It did not seem to phase Zen though, who was still happily eating you out all the same.

You drew in deep breaths and kissed the top of his head as you came down from your high, though he still showed now signs of stopping. You could feel your own fluids mixed with his saliva dripping down your legs and making a puddle under you as he continued.

It felt good for a while, and he seemed to enjoy it. You clit started to throb in an unpleasant way from his face still pressed against it rubbing, and his tongue still in you started making you feel raw, though he was still absolutely caught up in it.

“Zen” you scratched his head affectionately to get his attention, “You can stop now”.

He did not seem to hear you, he moaned something against you and continued.

“Zen” you said firmer, “It’s getting to be too much, you can stop now”.

Still he was too caught up to hear you.

“Zen!” this time you got a good handful of his hair and tugged his head back to look up at you, “I need you to stop now”.

“Oh” his expression was hazy and unfocused as he looked up at you, trying to piece things together, “Was it alright?”

“Absolutely perfect, just a little overstimulating at the end. Did you not hear me?”

“Hear what?” he asked.

“I asked you to stop a few times and you didn’t until I made you”.

It was amazing how an eight and a half foot tall man, the avatar of a god, could look so much like a sad, wet cat from just a few words.

You sighed and started playing with his hair again, “Don’t give me that look, you’re not in trouble or anything, but you do need to be more present. You did really well, like the best I’ve ever had, and I’m really happy you enjoyed it so much too, but what if I was asking you to stop because your tusk cut me or something? Or because there was a serious problem? That can’t happen again, ok?”

“Ok” he nuzzled against your thigh, “I am sorry”.

“It’s ok, I know you weren’t ignoring me, but we’re going to have to work on that. I need to be able to trust that you’ll always stop if I ask, and that if you ever ask me to stop I will too”.

“I promise”.

You kissed the top of his head, and with some difficulty managed to untangled yourselves from each other. You heard him laughing as you stood up.

“What’s so funny?” you asked.

“You have marks on your butt from my tusks, I can even see the indents from the carvings”.

Part 18

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Tag list

@blushycadaver @hazyspacefairy

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

can i be honest? im a fan of azul but his dream felt like it lacked impact. there were some very interesting moments and its better than the prediction that he would already be rich and own the world

like really? azul becomes a famous athlete and bullies others, then he takes over night raven? i feel like his struggles with his own identity and food could have been further explored and he is based off of ursula, which should extend to vanessa, right? it was the perfect reason to give him a total makeover and show that he has to be comfortable in his own skin before anything else, even if his other ness was what made him a target of bullying in the first place

your thoughts and worries on book 7 post has affected my perspective and i cant help but feel like something is missing 🥲 maybe all the budget went into Jade and Floyd?

[Referencing this post!]

As I’ve previously expressed, I have a lot of my own complicated feelings about the direction book 7 is taking, specifically with how the OB boys’ dream segments are presented and resolved. Azul’s dream is no different; it felt very contrived due to the formula TWST insists on running with in every new installment. It’s becoming even more apparent with each update, and it is really grating on me.

But!! Before I get to what I believe are shortcomings with Azul’s dream, let’s review what Anon has to say.

I feel like, no matter what, there will always be people claiming that the OB boys’ dreams are “missed opportunities”. This is simply because these characters have much more deep and complex issues than the rest of the cast, so we will naturally scrutinize them more. TWST is basically only able to go with one angle when they tackle the dream, leaving the other threads unexplored. This will surely annoy or disappoint people who wish that TWST would have addressed a different issue instead, or perhaps something closer to their personal interpretation of the events. In Azul’s case, I feel like some people (particularly in the west, not so much in the east) see Azul’s weight concerns or relationship with food as a prominent part of his character, so they wish that book 7 part 10 had looked into that more. However, that was never a big focus in canon, so it follows that TWST would want to dedicate its time and resources to the most pressing thing (which would be more centered on Azul’s general self-confidence, greed, and how those tie into his sense of identity). At the same time, they probably wanted to avoid a lens that is too broad. Having the focus be on Azul’s “otherness” or being an octopus might veer too heavily into something way beyond the scope of the ~10 parts of the story he has to himself.

We also need to consider that these dreams are meant to be shallow interpretations of what the dreamer desires (according to Idia). Only the OB boys get to go more in depth due to bring dragged down into deeper layers of their dreams. Azul wants to be accepted by his peers and is insecure about his lack of athleticism (as one reason why he was bullied was due to not being able to swim as fast as other merchildren). So of course the surface level of his dream makes him a star athlete beloved by all. The whole “his plan succeeds, he steals everyone’s magic, he takes over NRC” thing happens in the second layer of his dream, which, like all previous OB boys, is a dark display of what would have happened had they not been stopped. And finally, Azul being a bully is nothing new—we saw this behavior back in book 3 as well. He became the very thing he despised back when he was a victim, and now he continues to perpetuate that cycle of bullying in an effort to affirm confidence in his “cool” new identity. I think the dream was very intentional in trying to entice him with the promises of power and acceptance. That, in turn, shows us that the desire to be a successful businessman (the thing many of us thought would be his dream) actually hinges on Azul’s longing to be accepted. His struggle with his identity and how it depends on how others perceive him was portrayed. I’m just not sure if the idea was executed in the best way, since it sounds like the message may have gotten muddled along the way and it definitely requires some reading between the lines.

I noticed that you cited my original post where I detailed my concerns about book 7 and how that has influenced your own thoughts 💦 I hope that it just… informed or supplemented your opinions rather than suddenly altered them to be more “in line” with my own. I never want to be the kind of person who claims their interpretations are the “most correct” I’m not Riddle’s mom, okay?? 😭

About Jade and Floyd’s dreams, I feel like those are less heavily critiqued because they, by virtue of not being an OB boy, have fewer stakes and are predominantly there to be silly. It’s like contrasting Epel wanting to be big and buff to Vil literally murdering Neige; there is just no comparison. Even then, I wouldn’t necessarily say Floyd’s and Jade’s parts received “all the budget”… They seemed like pretty basic storylines to me, perhaps dressed up slightly better thanks to the new undersea assets and bioluminescence reveal.

My issues with Azul’s dream segment is how… ham-fisted several elements were. All of it, for the sake of sticking to the pattern already established earlier. It feels so unnatural and stilted because you just KNOW it’s written this way to fit the template 😔 For example:

Why did Jade become SO dumb when they were trying to figure out where Azul had moved the contracts? He’s supposed to be much smarter than how he is presented here. Wouldn’t his immediate thought be to check Azul’s room? But NO, Jade can’t come to that conclusion on his own because we need a contrived reason for each student to use their UM before the ending :/ so Jade has to waste time using his UM to get the truth out of his dream!self.

Jade and Floyd sitting around and going “………….” while they watch Azul make an ass of himself was such a time waster. Clearly you have enough brains to know what would trigger him, so why are you not acting on it???? Oh yeah, because we need to show more cool stuff in this dream like La Grotta!

Azul literally turns to the camera and tells his OB self, “Unlike you, I’ve changed.” It’s way too on the nose with what it’s trying to communicate. It breaks immersion and makes it so obvious the characters are outright stating their character development to make sure we all “get it”.

What was the purpose of Azul using his UM to get the mermobs to sign a contract to give all their power to him???💀 Bro can just say “excuse me, I forgot something back at the Coral Rush field” and they’d probably let him pass. But again, Azul isn’t allowed to do that because he MUST use his UM before the ending. Because Azul’s UM requires that another person willingly agree and sign a contract, his mandatory UM use before the grand finale feels particularly forced.

How many times do I need to listen to Idia/Ortho or other characters warn us about how we can’t have too many people dream hopping or else bugs might happen or Malleus might notice… It’s almost like the devs realize how long this is being dragged out for so they have to remind us every so often.

Not only that, but we get such poorly constructed explanations to keep characters behind while a new character goes with the main group. Why don’t you just leave them all behind once they’re awake then?? Oh yeah, because we NEED to drag along the current student into the next dream so everyone gets a cameo. It’s so inorganic how the characters are chosen to stay behind, Jamil just conveniently volunteers himself while we also listen to another spiel from Silver and Sebek about how their training makes them more stable than the twins to keep dream hopping.

I would actually consider Azul’s dream… serviceable? Like it isn’t fantastic or anything but for what it is, it works. It’s cohesive enough. But god, did I dislike how rigid it was… Nothing happens because it’s natural, it happens because the script demands it happens. To quote another post:

If anyone has played the first Ace Attorney game, this feels a LOT like that part in case 2 where Phoenix is too dumb to check the back of a receipt until Mia literally tells him to. The [characters have] to actively be made stupider because the scenario calls for it, and that really rubs me the wrong way.

[slashersgostabbystabstab]

Object of Obsession

Ghostface x Reader Smut

Mmm...old fic from my old, deleted blog...felt like posting it cause why not. I remember if anybody remembers this fic.

Warnings? SMUT. And everything else you would expect in a DBD fic (I'm sorry it's midnight and I'm posting on my phone,I'll fix this whole post tomorrow)

I stg if this gets a decent amount of notes(just to show people wanna see more) I will post the other fics I had deleted (these involve the Blight, more Ghostface, and possible Wraith ones...)

Words: 6,021

"Hello?”

“Hello there.”

It had all started with a call, a mere and simple call.

“Who's this?”

“Soon you’ll discover.”

You assumed it was a telemarketer, or some kind of prank perhaps.

“I'm sorry, sir, but I think you have the wrong number.”

Now that you thought about, you had wished it was some stupid teenagers or some guy offering to buy some stupid prodcut.

“How are you so sure? Tell me your name, and I'll tell you mine.”

“My name? But why?”

Yet it wasn’t either of those.

Had it been one, you wouldn’t be limping through the lone yet crowded streets of this neighborhood.

“I want to know who I’m looking at.”

Putting aside the lack of doors and completely run down homes, one could have said the neighborhood...was normal looking.

Normal.

That was what you could now consider the life you no longer lived.

A life in a neighborhood not too different from the one you found yourself in.

Everything had been going well, even if life was shitty, it was no doubt better than this.

“You sick fuck!”

In your mouth you perceived the taste of iron, one you knew belonged to the blood smeared over your lips. Thinking about it, you weren’t even sure if the blood came from your lips that you bit to contain desperate whimpers of pain, or from the blood that was found nearly everywhere you limped through.

“I’ll gut you like a fish!”

That voice, you despised it with every ounce of remaining blood in your body. You weren’t even sure how much you had left after everything you had endured. All you knew was that your complexion had indeed turned into a paler one, your loss of blood evident as you unconsciously continued to bleed.

It had all started with a call, a mere and simple call.

Why did you have to pick up the damn phone?

Why did you pick it up all the following times that bastard called?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a scream that prompted you to skid to a stop, nearly crashing into one of the trees you were now surrounded by. With the hand that was not holding your impaled side, you clung onto the tree as your teeth now released your lip and you allowed yourself to pant after so much running.

Another scream was heard, a voice telling you to look to your right. Once you did, there he was.

In a panic, you shut your mouth as tightly as possible before rushing towards the direction you had just been coming from. You gulped and concealed whimpers that were created by the pain coursing through your ankle. As you fixed a generator earlier with one of the many people suffering the same, neither of you ever realized the looming presence that failed to strike your shoulder, instead hitting the generator that further damaged it.

You and the other person saw him, that bastard who was brought into this world of chaos with you. A man with a ghostly mask and dark clothing that helped him blend in with his surroundings. And he stared you down after you had fallen onto your bottom, already raising his blade above his head to strike upon you. But to your relief, the person behind stood in between the two of you, flashing the ghostly mask with a light so bright that made him loudly groan before your teammate helped you up and away.

The woman ran to the left as you ran to the right, never realizing that your footsteps were enough to have the ghostly figure chasing after you once more. However, before he had the chance of piercing your skin, you jumped through a window before falling to the harsh floor, injuring your ankle in the process. As you got up, you stared up at the window where you saw the figure peering down at you with a tilt of his head, deciding that now was not the time to continue your chase.

Obsession.

That was what the other survivors called you, as well as others like one who you learned went by the name Laurie Strode.

According to the others, there was more than one being with the goal of killing, and each one was somehow matched up with a being with the goal of survival.

You were one of the poor souls who had been matched up with a killer obsessed with their survivor.

Even more unfortunate was the link created with this obsession, brought to life by the very being that brought you and that bastard into this world.

“What do you want!?”

“What do you want…” you muttered through grit teeth, remembering that those words were the last you cried out after being chased in your own home. You remembered being cornered in your bedroom with the obsessed predator standing between you and your freedom.

“I want to see what your insides look like!”

Those words the last words he shouted, right before the lights in your bedroom turned extremely bright and blinded the two of you. You brought your arms up to shield your eyes, realizing that the lights had turned into swirls of red that flashed once and quite intensely, all the while a thick fog engulfed you and the figure.

Once the light show had ended, you opened your eyes, finding yourself alone and in a strange place.

A strange place you eventually learned was one of the realms conjured up by The Entity.

Your thoughts were once again interrupted, this time by the sound of a phone ringing.

You cursed under your breath and immediately pressed the ‘answer’ option, pressing the device against your ear as you heard the same ringing coming from one other location that had previously been three others, one for each survivor.

Two had now been sacrificed, and the third...well, the latest scream was more than enough information.

From the other line you could hear a dark chuckle, making your eyebrows furrow deeper and your teeth grit harder.

“I always feel like somebody’s watching me.~”

“Fuck you! Fuck you!”

“Aw, Dollface, no need for that kind of language.~”

You angrily ended the call before resuming your limping around, having to stop for a moment to wince in pain and grit your teeth even harder, causing a new pain to be created. Right then, you heard the phone in your pocket ring again and this time only yours, making you the last survivor again. But, it also made you the only one around with a phone, making you much easier to locate.

“You sick, sick fuck!” you hissed into the phone once you replied, frustrated how this so-called Entity made it so that you could never rid of the phone unless you were given a moment of peace or faced against another one of those bloodthirsty predators.

“Why so angry? All I want is to play a little game.”

“Well game’s over asshole!” you gripped onto the phone, scouting the area while being cautious, knowing how well this man hid. “I’m gonna find that damn hatch, and I’m living another day!”

“Oh, is that so?” the man chuckled once more. “That’s not what happened last time.~”

Death was something nearly inevitable in this realm, and it was something that you and the others were able to experience multiple times.

The last time you were faced with this man, you finally had a taste of sweet, sweet death, deciding that that would be the first and last time you would.

So you ended the call in a fit while scanning every inch of the overgrown grass you currently ran through, hurriedly searching for the hatch you hoped he hadn’t shut back. Without a key, the hatch was useless, especially because you still needed two more generators to power up the gates.

The phone rang again, further irking you before you answered.

“What do you fucking want!?”

“The question isn’t, what do I want.”the killer cooed at you, somehow being heard over the sound of your heart rapidly beating in your ears.“The question is, where am I?”

“Where, are you?” you jeered, holding your side with your fingers digging deep into your ripped shirt that had been slashed earlier.

“Heads up.~”

At the sound of that, a feeling overcame you...a dreading feeling that you were completely exposed.

You felt your eyes widen as you ever so slowly turned to look up, lips quivering upon the sigh of the ghost mask looking down at you from one of the roofs. You gasped as the killer waved at you with a tilt of his head, then rushing away from the home for you knew he had jumped down with ease and no pain.

Not that there was no need to hide your sounds, you panted loudly while sprinting down the empty street, never daring to look behind you for you knew the killer was just a few feet away.

Had it not been for your racing heart, you would have heard the heavy steps coming from the killer’s boots as he continued to chase. Yet you knew those running steps were heard, so you made your way towards a sidewalk that was placed between a tree and a fence.

Of course, the killer followed right through but was immediately thrown back when you cleverly pulled down one of the leftover pallets.

As the killer tried to recuperate, you took your chance and ran through a space between the homes before making a right and continuing until you found yourself limping into the front entrance of one of the far houses.

With the feeling of exposure gone, you silently made your way towards the living room where you found a pair of lockers. Carefully grabbing the handle of one, your bit your lip while attempting to open it as quietly as possible, something quite impossible.

And this you witnessed like several other times, ignoring it and placing your body in the space before shutting the door to then be immersed in a darkness. The only light came from the three slots on the door, giving you the slightest view of the outside world.

With a hand clasped over your mouth, you tried to steady your heart pace and your heavy breathing, ignoring the pain on your side and ankle that you found it impossible to stand on. Your eyes were shut tightly as you gave a slight wheeze, the stab wound on your side continuing to bleed out.

“I want to see what your insides look like!”

Those words replayed in your head, especially as you heard muffled breaths outside your locker, making you gulp and clench your free hand into a fist, ready to strike if needed.

You opened your eyes, feeling your hand shake but forcing it to stop once you saw the killer just outside the locker.

He stopped walking as he was a few feet away, deciding to crouch down with one of his hands holding his blade as his other dialed something into his personal phone, prompting a deep panic to course through your body as you readied yourself for whatever happened after your phone began ringing.

Yet...your phone never rang.

“Fuck!”

Through the slots you could see the man stand in pure frustration, kicking a leftover couch as you both realized that your phone had run out of juice. Thankfully, the Entity kept things considerably fair.

You saw as the killer angrily made his way out of the house, giving you a chance to sigh in relief before placing your hands on the locker’s doors, opening them in an instant before looking to your right and feeling the relief once more.

“The hatch!” you whispered to yourself, grinning ear to ear before making your way over to it.

Another day-

With the sound of a loud creak and then slam, you skid to a stop before your grin fell into a frown oh terror once you looked into the void-like eyes of the ghost mask, it’s owner just having shut the hatch before your eyes.

“No!” you barely cried out, turning before trying to make a run for it until you felt the back of your shirt be grabbed and pulled, making you fall backwards and onto the hard, wooden floor.

After wincing in reaction for the briefest of moments, you looked up and immediately reacted with your healthy leg, kicking upwards to where you saw the killer ready to strike his blade.

You heard an ‘oof’ from behind the mask, right before the killer dropped down after having been kicked in the abdomen. After rolling onto your stomach, you attempted to drag your body out of the house as the killer took his time, but you shrieked in pain once you felt a leather glove wrap around your injured ankle.

Soon you were pulled backwards by the ankle and then turned onto your back again before feeling a hand be placed on your chest, keeping you down as you attempted to move it away. Instead, you felt something heavier hold you down as your wrists were held above your head, realizing that your waist was straddled by the killer. You saw as he felt his hands above his head again, ready to plunge to blade deep into your heart several times.

Memento Mori.

You gasped at the memory of that phrase, shutting your eyes and covering your face with your arm as you expected an immediate kill rather than sacrifice.

However...it never came.

Hesitantly, you opened one of your eyes and to look up at the man who’s blade was no longer above his head but already down. Now with both of your eyes opened, you glanced up to where your pinned wrists were, seeing as the knife had been struck into one of the aging wooden planks.

“Gotcha there, didn’t I?” the killer spoke through his mask, chuckling at the sight of your helpless form. “Thought to myself, how fun would it be to stab you like the game before? But then I thought, no...maybe not this time.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, blinking up at the man who tilted his head like every single time.

“I’ve seen the way you stare.” he started once he retrieved his blade, still never releasing your wrists. “That glint in your eye when I grab another one of those pathetic idiots, slinging them over and onto a hook like nothing.”

“What?” you finally spoke up.

“Don’t play dumb Dollface.” he presented his blade, holding it horizontally before it teasingly made its way over to your neck to now graze over your skin, threatening to break it. “You think I know nothing, but I know everything about you.”

“Because you’ve been fucking stalk me even before we were brought here?” you attempted to move your arms, but the man’s hold grew stronger.

“You could say that.~” he purred while sliding the tip of his blade up to your chin, now gliding it against your jaw as he leaned down and close to your ear. “Kitten.~”

Fuck.

Fuck no.

“Oh, don’t tell me you liked that.~”

You squirmed beneath the killer’s grip, then choking out a gasp once you felt both of his hands place themselves on your body after he had repositioned himself.

With the knife being no more but instead an accessory on the ground, you found a gloved hand wrapped around your throat while the other ever so casually placed a finger on your thigh as he kneeled in between each one.

“What are you-” you croaked out as your hands wrapped themselves around the one on your throat, attempting to remove it as you felt its grip tighten.

“Drop the act.” he purred right into your ear, taking notice of how your breaths and heart rate quickened, prompting him to slide his lone finger up and down your thigh in a teasing manner. “You fucking love this shit."

“I-” you wheezed out, feeling as his finger on your thigh was now joined by the rest of them, squeezing your denim covered leg. “Fuck!”

“Look at that,” he pressed his mask against your ear as you shut your eyes, digging your nails into the hand that refused to let go of your neck. “Just a small squeeze…”

“Stop…” you tried to gulp, now feeling as his hand sank to the inside of your thigh, caressing it soft enough to make you squirm beneath him.

“Stop?"

“Y-yes!”

No.

Never.

“Stop!” you exclaimed as best as possible, especially as his hand now squeezed your thigh, basically massaging it before his hand traveled under it to hold it securely.

“Is that really what you want?” he lifted your leg into the air, pressing the cheek of his mask against it to rub himself. “You want me to stop and hook you?”

“Yes, I-I mean...no?” you stammered, finally breathing in peace when the man released your neck and instead placed his hand on your leg so that both of them gripped on.

“You’ve kept me waiting for this long, better make up your mind now before I do.”

“W-waiting?” you blinked at him a few time, then feeling something...somewhere.

Your eyes trailed down his body that kneeled in between your legs, then making your eyes widen once you noticed that beneath all the dark clothing was a bulge pulsating right in front of your crotch.

Wow.

Fuck.

“Whoa…” you started as you attempted to sit up, only to be pushed down in a rough manner. “Whoa, whoa-!”

Soon you felt as your leg was lowered and the killer’s hands were instead placed on your waist, dragging your body so that the bulge between his legs poked the opening you unintentionally provided.

“Crap…”you muttered out once a heat came upon your cheeks, this being due to the newfound heat in between your legs.

Before you could react any further, you felt as your body was hoisted up and onto the killer’s shoulder. There was no time to attempt and wiggle out of his grasp, for you now found yourself being thrown onto the nearby couch, purposely having been put in a slouching position as the man once again kneeled in front of you and between your legs.

“What are you…” panted words escaped your lips as the killer placed each hand on each of your thighs, spreading them further to lean in extremely close to the in between. “Hey..!”

“What?” he asked, never turning away from your area as you felt your cheeks burn hotter.

“A-At least take me out on a date first!” you semi-joked, grateful for the mask he still wore and the jeans covering you, for if neither of those hadn’t been in the way, you would have felt his hot breath over your… “Shit…”

“First you’re fighting and trying to kick my ass,” the man dragged his hands closer to the center, making you squirm a bit more. “But now, you’re here squirming under my grip, shy over the big bad killer being in between your legs.”

“Big? As if.” you scoffed as you attempted to regain your composure, instead giving a slight gasp when he dug the fingers of one hand into your leg, just as the other reached up to the hem of your pants.

“Take them off.”

“W-what?”

“Pants.” he posited in a deep voice, squeezing your thigh once more before his tone grew much more assertive. “Now.”

With a shaky nod, you reach down to unbutton your jeans, soon feeling as they were quickly being slid off your legs before being flung to the side like nothing.

“I-”

“You never know when to stop talking, hm?” the man shushed you as his hands grew close to your center once more, this time taking their time to taunt you. “You never know anything.”

This time, you kept quiet as you felt him press one of his thumbs on your briefs, rubbing a few circles that made you hiss through your now grit teeth.

“You’re a stupid one, but maybe not that stupid.”

You could tell this bastard was licking his lips right behind that mask, eyes watching your every move and getting off it.

“You don’t know just how long I’ve been watching you.” he continued as he rubbed the slight dent on his mask against you before sinking it further. “How long I’ve craved for you.”

“Craved?” you breathed out with fluttering eyelashes, not daring to look away from the man who snuck a finger under your panties, tugging on them to only tease and expose your opening.

“I thought that after all our previous encounters you would have figured it out by now.” he finally placed two fingers onto your entrance, making your arch back as he went under your folds to encircle your bud by dividing and reuniting his fingers various times. “I thought, maybe all this chasing and slashing was enough to tell you."

With your mind in a haze, you kept what could have been considered quiet, not being able to speak a comprehensive response, let alone word.

“But fuck you’re an oblivous one.” the killer stopped his motions, making you give the slightest whine as you looked down at him with half lidded, pleading eyes. “But now that I have you here...I sure as hell am gonna have my way with you.”

You bit your lip at the sound of his husky tone, hands desperately reaching to the couch as you now felt as your bud was roughly rubbed, but in such a satisfying manner that made you throw your head back.

“I know you’ll love every second of it.” he continued to tease your clit, now using his other hand to open your folds and breathe heavily against you.

Wait.

“Moments ago you were ready to run, but look at you now.” you heard his voice, realizing it was no longer muffled. “So wet already.~”

You managed to look down at the man between your legs, surprise filling you as you saw that his mask had been slid up and away from his face that was unfortunately not visible to you.

At his words you shut his eyes: he was right, he was so right.

Maybe...just maybe when you first saw the news with a picture of this man’s mask...just maybe…

“The Ghostface Killer” was what the news said, and just maybe you...

“No…” you shook your head to yourself, not realizing that the man had looked up at you with a quirked eyebrow.

“No what?"

“Huh?” you glanced down at him, barely being able to see a scruffy chin after he had lowered his head again. “N-nothing-!”

You immediately clasped a hand over your mouth and shut your eyes as you felt something wet against your entrance, a moan muffled right behind your palm.

“Fuck…” you whispered as your other hand attempted to grab whatever, just so you had a hold on something while the wet appendage continued to move against you.

Seeing as the killer no longer made any comments, you could guess that he was now using his tongue as his hands held you down and open for him.

You managed to grab onto the top of his head, the man not minding nor worried that you would see his face due to how you arched your back and even rolled your eyes to the back of your head as he continued to lick your bud.

“A-ah…” you whimpered, digging your nails into the man’s hood as his tongue moved in a circular manner before moving up and down, making you choke out a sound of pleasure. You especially moaned at the feeling of one of his fingers teasing below that, right before plunging itself into your hole that made you bite your lip intensely.

But what made you a complete writhing mess was his lips planting themselves on your clit, sucking on you, making gross, sloppy sounds that turned you on even more and made your toes curl inside your shoes. Now, both of your hands were gripping onto the killer’s hood as one of his held you down with how much you moved around.

“Fuck, fuck, f-fuck-!” you wailed out, the man’s hands on your hips as you felt a knot in your stomach, something that was ready to explode at any moment. “Oh fuck, oh...Ghostface!”

Now that was enough to make the killer reach down to his crotch, cupping his bulge as you said that name.

“Say it again.” he paused his treatment on you, allowing you a moment to recover and grasp a bunch of your own hair.

“G-ghostface…” you wheezed, then shrieking in delight once you felt him suck on your clit once more. “Ghostface! Oh, fuck, yes!”

Squeezing your eyes even tighter and your legs attempting to repeat the action, you felt oh so close to sweet, sweet release.

And that moment finally came, right after Ghostface went back to licking you as his fingers wiggled inside you, mimicking a ‘come hither’ motion before he detached his lips from you and instead rubber his thumb on your clit.

You weren’t sure what it was you said, but you swore and you screamed into the cold air as one of your legs kicked up. You didn’t know how long this moment lasted, but it was a blissful moment that had you seeing white whether you had opened your eyes or not.

Ever so slowly, you returned to your senses and could hear the faint sound of your juices being slurped by Ghostface as you felt the slight stubble of his chin brushing against your wet skin.

You heaved with a euphoric sigh as your eyes fluttered open, then glancing down at the killer who adjusted his mask enough to cover his face while making sure to keep a space open.

He lifted his two fingers that he had used on you, bringing them up and into his lips as you heard him sucking on the remainder of your juices.

“Look at you,” Ghostface cooed as he stood up, now fixing his mask so that it properly covered his face. “So worn out, and I haven’t even finished.~”

“What?” you lifted your head to look at him, seeing as one of his hands cupped his throbbing bulge once more. “M-more?”

“After all the chases and kicks and punches,” he reached down and under his top, and you could hear the sound of a belt unbuckling right before an unzipping noise followed. “I think I deserve a little more.”

Your eyes fell onto where his hands were, widening at the bulge that he now unfurled out of his pants to reveal an erect member pointing right at you.

One of his hands held onto it, slowly pumping the member as you noticed trickles of precum at the tip, threatening to spill onto your abdomen once he had stepped closer towards you.

“Such hungry eyes.” Ghostface breathed out a chuckle, not realizing that he himself had grown desperate, nor that he began rubbing his tip over your drenched briefs. “Such a good hole...just for me.”

Before you could say anything, you felt his free hand grab under your right leg before he lifted it and set it on his shoulder which opened your entrance even more. Once that was done, he kneeled on the edge of the couch while still supporting himself on the ground, leaning in until the forehead of his mask was pressed against yours.

He tucked his arm under your raised leg to keep it in place, placing his hand on the couch to hold himself as his other hand guided his member, using it to move your undergarment to the side before he rubbed himself at your entrance. As he breathed deeply, he felt you wrap your arms around his neck before he finally brought himself inside, making you arch right into his chest that provoked a deep growl in his throat.

“Fuck…”you heard him grunt behind the mask, especially as he sunk himself deeper inside you which made your toes curl once more. “Fucking, hell…”

After a moment, you brought your left arm to his back and eventually slid it down to his bottom, unconsciously pushing on it so that he could continue.

“What are you waiting for?” you sighed out, staring into the lifeless eyes of his mask before you felt him pull out and thrust into you rather harshly.

“Quiet.” he commanded, just as he felt your other hand claw at his hood, grabbing a bunch that nearly removed it. “No...don’t keep quiet...scream. Scream for me.”

“Scream…” you gulped before feeling Ghostface repeat the same action from before, this causing you to give exactly what he wanted.

“That’s better.” his voice sounded through your ears over the sound of your heart beating fast. “Say my name. Scream my name.”

“Ghostface,” you panted out as you felt him slowly pull out again, then thrusting back inside at the same teasing pace that made you give a whine. “Please...Ghostface, please.”

“Ghostface what?” he questioned as he continued his movements in a slow manner, creating a new knot in your stomach that was instead bothersome, ever so irking with this terrible, terrible taunting. “Say it Dollface, tell me what you want me to do.”

“Ghostface,” your bottom lip quivered as you dug your nails right into the killer’s back and neck now. “Please...f...fuck me.”

“Thought you’d never ask.” the killer purred against your neck, right before he quickened his movements, feeling your left heel dig into his back as well.

“Ghostface,” your voice grew louder. “Ghostface, oh fuck-!”

“Mmm, Ghostface. Oooh, Ghostface!” the killer mocked you, now pressing his right hand on your throat as he squeezed. “You fucking like that, huh? Tel me how you fucking love it.”

“Ghostface,” you started, removing both of your hands from his body to place them on his wrist. “Ghostface, I fucking l-love it.”

“Of course you do.” he laughed as he squeezed your throat. “You love it when Ghostface fucks your little hole; nobody knows what you want but me.”

You breathlessly nodded while tightening your grip on his wrist, especially as his thrusts became even faster and roughed.

“Fuck!” you choked out, feeling as Ghostface did not hold back in the slightest bit.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head once Ghostface finally removed his hand from your throat, instead bringing it down to your clit to rub it with a pace that matched his thrusting.

“Oh, fuck, oh my-” your hands once again returned to Ghostface’s back before one went to his head yet again, clawing at his hood which you accidentally lowered, the man not seeming to care. “Ghostface-!”

“I’m so fucking close.” he whispered into your ear, hand clawing into the couch that neither of you heard squeak and creak with every rough move. “But not yet...not yet.”

Before you yourself were able to come to another release, you gave a disappointed breath once you felt the man’s member missing. You turned down, giving somewhat of a pout as you saw him hovering just above your entrance.

“Ghostface…"

“Move.” the man told you after having lowered your leg and sat on the opposite end of the couch. “Now.”

You gave a shaky nod before getting on your knees, looking at his exposed member that dripped with a mix of your and his juices.

Ghostface spread his legs before patting his lap, you already knowing what he wanted.

So, you carefully climbed onto his lap, straddling him as you held yourself above his member, only the tip touching you.

His hands were placed on your hips and they forced you down onto his cock, making you gasp in surprise once you felt your skin smack against each other despite him still wearing his pants.

You stared down at the killer, once again pressing your forehead against his mask before you felt him move under you, prompting you to bite your lip to contain any other sounds.

He moved his hips in a way that made you plant your hands on the couch as he began to move you upwards, right before his hands brought you down again. Ghostface watched every expression you gave, a chuckle rumbling in his throat as he had you panting against his mask. His fingers dug into your hips, no doubt leaving bruises that would eventually match the ones he had caused on your thighs earlier.

Ghostface huffed as he now moved his pelvis upwards so that your body wasn’t the only one moving, his thrusts becoming sloppy yet remaining rough and quick.

“Say my name.” he aggressively grabbed your chin, squeezing you as he brought you to a more appropriate eye level. “Scream.”

“Ghostface!” you finally opened your lips, wrapping your arms around him again as his hugged your frame tight against his chest. “Ooooh, fuck! Faster!~”

You struggled to do anything, you didn’t even know if you were still calling out to him or gave all kinds of shrieks and moans. All you knew was that the knot from before had returned, and you were having a hard time both hiding and restraining it.

“Such a tight little-” Ghostface had to stop himself, hips continuously clashing against your bottom that was probably also bruised at this point. “Squeezing my cock, you fucking love this, don’t you?”

“Y-yes!” you managed to cry out, nails once again digging into what you could only assume were Ghostface’s shoulders or arms. Considering the pads he wore, it was probably the latter.

“I’m, I’m close!”

“You don’t finish until I fucking tell you to.” Ghostface hissed at you, one of his arms still holding you tight while his other hand snaked up and inserted two of his fingers into your mouth.

With his fingers in your mouth, you choked out all kinds of sounds, never realizing that a bit of drool dripped out and down your chin, making Ghostface lick his lips.

“Yeah...yeah…” he breathed out, marveling at such a sight he waited far too long to see.

He picked up the speed, grinning like a deviant once he felt himself twitch inside you.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop…!” you mewled after his fingers were pulled out of your mouth, once again on your chin to pull your gaze down after you had thrown your head back lost in ecstacy.

“I’m not fucking stopping.” he gave a few grunts, pulling you face even closer to press himself against you. “Oooh fuck. Should have waited to kill the others, just so they could hear your cute little moans.”

“Mmm, Ghostface!” you whimpered as you felt yourself even closer, the possessive hold on your chin and body making you clench around the killer’s cock that continued to pound inside you. “Ghostface, G-ghost-”

“Do it, fucking do it.” he teased right into your ear, practically licking and nibbling you as you finally released that tension inside you.

With a scream, you wrapped your arms around the man who let go of your chin to wrap both of his arms around you again.

His thrusts became faster before you felt a hot liquid be shot inside you, eventually dripping out and sliding down your thigh as you once again had that hazy feeling.

You held onto Ghostface like your life depended on it, feeling your bottom half tremble as his speed slowed down with every final thrust until eventually there was no more.

Ghostface bit his own lip, both to hide his slight pants and the cheeky grin that crept onto his features, now leaning his head to the side where you panted exhaustively into his ears. His hands slid down from your back and waist to your bottom, supporting you so that you wouldn’t fall backwards after such an experience.

The killer squeezed your body, chuckling once more into your ear as his muffled voice spoke.

“Our film’s finished, but you can hope for a sequel.~”

[female-hysterics]

Ninebluehearts asked:

I'm here to talk about Cecil 😩 I feel like while he does enjoy cuddling, he also sees it as an opportunity to touch you. You're finally all relaxed and pressed against him, enjoying a quiet afternoon together. But he just can't help but run his fingers around your tits and slowly make his way down to your thighs.. 🥴

I love taking about Cecil 😩❤️

Cecil is extremely handsy and will use any excuse he can to touch you. Sometimes he won't even bother with an excuse, just mumble out a "c'mere" or he just grunts, and next thing you know you're in his lap as he happily nuzzles you.

While Cecil is extremely handsy he is also extremely horny. Like all the time. You wouldn't expect it from someone who looks like they were just rudely woken up from a nap no matter the hour and who is generally a pretty chilled out guy (when he's not partying) and it gets to the point where on some days you just forgo any undergarments because they spend more time around your ankles or pushed aside than actually covering anything. Cecil always preens happily when he realized you weren't wearing a bra or panties and those days he got even more touchy.

But in reality he pretty much is a nymphomaniac, especially since you demanded monogamy from him as a stipulation for your relationship. So now all his pent up desires are directed at you and, coupled with his lack of self-control, you often find yourself in situations just like this.

Relaxing on the living room floor in a little mini fort you two made earlier, enjoying the lazy afternoon and the soft buzzing of the TV. You were almost dozing off, so warm and comfortable curled up next to Cecil who was tracing random patterns on your stomach underneath your baggy sleep shirt. You had your eyes closed but you didn't bother opening them when you felt his warm fingers drift up towards your breasts and gingerly roll your nipple between his fingertips until you sighed. You sleepily chalked it up to him just wanting to touch your body like always. Then those fingers skipped over your body, pressing into a ticklish spot on your stomach that made you flinch and grumble, before they delved underneath your shorts. Your eyes flipped open and you popped you mouth open to admonish him when he pressed his thumb against your clit and slipped one finger into your slick hole. You were still dripping and aching for him from your earlier activities, Cecil had pinned your hips to the sink while you did dishes and licked you out until your knees nearly collapsed, and he used that to his advantage.

"You want me again, kitten?" he murmured while steadily pumping his finger, adding another before you could properly respond, and you just gasped his name while kicking your head back against his shoulder.

Cecil mouthed against your shoulder and jaw and even nibbled against your ear before letting you pant against his lips in an open mouth kiss as he added a third finger. His thumb never stopped it's lazily circles and, coupled with the thick fingers fucking you roughly, you knew that your quickly approaching orgasm was going to be brutal.

"Go ahead and come, kitten. Come on my fingers so I can get you to come on my cock next," he said softly with a little smile and the orgasm that stole your breath away was only the first for the night.