#girl i thought we were doing group costumes

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

girl why the hell WEREN'T you at the devil's sacrament 👀 that's three sacraments in a row you've missed 👀 👀 👀

[keeryhours]

teen pregnancy series - steve harrington part 1

Steve Harrington x female! reader

Main Masterlist

Teen Pregnancy Series Masterlist

Steve Harrington Masterlist

Summary:

You find yourself pregnant with your best friend Nancy’s boyfriend’s baby after a drunken mistake.

Part 2

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), pregnancy, angst, sort of cheating but not really

Word Count: 11.7k

A/N:

I have worked SO HARD on this fic y’all. I really wanted to post the whole thing (27k words) but tumblr wouldn’t let me. So here we have part 1! Part 2 will be out tomorrow! I also want to give a big shoutout to my bestie @punkrockmlchael for the banner and for my friends and beta readers @glassbxttless @lesservillain @fizzing-imagines @the-witty-pen-name!

‘King’ Steve Harrington never paid any attention to you until he started dating your best friend, Nancy Wheeler. It had been a surprise when he asked her out - you, Nancy, and Barb had been quiet and stayed off to yourselves. You were a tight knit friend group, but certainly not popular. So when Steve asked Nancy out, you and Barb had been skeptical.

“Are you sure he has the best intentions?” Barb asked. “Because it’s Steve Harrington. He goes through girls like crazy.”

“Agreed,” you added. “I’m suspicious.”

“Guys, he’s actually really nice!” Nancy always defended him. “And it’s not even that serious. We just made out once…or twice.”

You and Barb exchanged a look. You didn’t really believe Steve had changed. You feared your best friend was going to get her heart broken, badly.

“What do you guys have in common anyway?” Barb asked. “He’s not, you know…exactly an honor student.”

“Barb!” Nancy scolded with a laugh. “He’s actually really sweet and funny. And a good kisser.”

You and Barb got lost in a fit of giggles at that. It was the first time any of you were having any kind of experience with a guy. The three of you were always overlooked by the guys of Hawkins High, but you didn’t really mind. There were more important things than high school relationships. It was a little exciting, though.

“So is he your boyfriend yet?” You asked, a teasing smile on your face.

“No,” Nancy said, blushing. “I don’t know if he-“

You were all surprised when Steve came seemingly out of nowhere, wrapping his arms around Nancy and making her squeal as he lifted her off the ground. It was sickeningly sweet.

“Steve!” She mock scolded him as he sat her down, and she playfully slapped his chest.

“What? I haven’t seen you in forever,” Steve said, suave grin on his handsome face.

“It’s been like 2 hours,” Nancy laughed.

“Tell me about it,” Steve said, pulling her in for a kiss. You and Barb looked away, feeling awkward.

Finally Steve acknowledged the two of you, giving you both a polite smile. “Sorry. Can I steal Nance for a few?”

Before either of you could say anything, Steve was leading a giggling Nancy away, leaving you and Barb alone. 

“I just hope she doesn’t forget about us,” Barb said.

—

“Steve wants us to go to Tina’s halloween party,” Nancy said at her locker before lunch. You and Barb exchanged a look.

“All of us?” You asked, skeptically.

“Yes, all of us,” Nancy said, attempting to reassure you both. “I wouldn’t want to go at all if you guys couldn’t come.”

“It’s not exactly…our scene,” Barb said. Her brows were furrowed as she pushed her glasses higher on her nose. “I don’t know if they really want us there, Nance.”

“Who cares?” Nancy said. “We should just go and be stupid teenagers and have fun for once.”

It took some convincing, Barb more than you, but finally you agreed to go together. You picked out a costume - a short, sexy red dress with devil horns on your head. You thought about someone maybe being interested in you at the party - you had to admit to yourself that you were a little jealous of Nancy’s relationship with Steve. It got lonely, sometimes.

Steve was picking all three of you up. Your house was the first on the way, so he picked you up first. You felt nervous as you walked down the driveway and got into the passenger seat of Steve’s car.

“Hey,” he greeted you, giving you his usual charming smile. You definitely understood what Nancy saw in him - Steve was handsome. “You look great.”

“You too,” you said, and he did. He and Nancy had gone with a couples costume - Risky Business - and he looked very good. He had a pair of sunglasses stuck in the front of his black shirt.

You mostly rode in silence on the way to the Wheeler’s house, Steve’s radio playing softly in the background. When Nancy came walking out of the house, Steve’s face lit up, and something in you sunk as you climbed out to slide into the back seat.

You felt a little better when you picked up Barb and she joined you in the back, making you feel less like an awkward third wheel. She was dressed like a librarian, which was honestly very normal for her.

The party was already in full swing when you arrived. You and Barb trailed behind Steve and Nancy into the house, following them straight to the punch bowl. Steve made a drink for all three of you. Barb took a tiny sip of hers, making a face. You tried yours, but it wasn’t too bad. Strong, though.

The party was less painful than you’d feared. You mostly stayed off to the side with Barb, drinking on your own. You watched the partygoers dance together, including Steve and Nancy, and you longed to join them. But you couldn’t bring yourself to.

At some point you lost your friends, leaving you standing in the kitchen alone. Nancy and Steve had disappeared into a bathroom, Nancy wiping at a big red punch stain on the front of her shirt. You’d watched them go, wondering what happened between them.

You continued sipping at your drink, watching the party rage on around you. The alcohol was making you less self conscious and more loose, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to join in. You wished you could. You wondered what it would like to be popular, or even to just be a normal teenage girl.

It wasn’t long before you spotted Nancy again, drunk as hell and angry.

“Where are you going?” You asked her as she drunkenly stormed through the party with Jonathan Byers and Barb trailing behind her.

“Home,” she slurred, stumbling over her own feet. You were too drunk to properly question it, simply watching as she left with Jonathan and Barb in tow. Jonathan seemed sober, at least. No one asked you if you wanted a ride, too. You figured you would ‘enjoy’ the party a little longer, figure out how you were getting home later.

You turned around and walked right into Steve Harrington.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, looking way more upset than the last time you’d seen him. He looked like he might have been crying, his eyes red rimmed.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You asked, looking him over with concern.

He shook his head. “Nothing. It’s…it’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” you said softly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Steve considered your offer. He didn’t know if he wanted to talk about Nancy right now, but getting back to the party didn’t sound like much fun either. He also didn’t really want to go home and be alone. “Sure. Okay.”

That’s how you ended up alone in a bedroom with Steve, sitting awkwardly next to each other on Tina’s parents’ bed. Steve sighed, rubbing his hands on his thighs.

“Me and Nancy…I don’t know,” he started, like he couldn’t find his words. “I know she’s your best friend. I’m not trying to say anything bad about her. I love her. But I think we might be over.”

“Why do you think that?” You asked softly. You knew Nancy really liked Steve. This was their first real argument, and it seems like it was a big one.

“She just��” he sighed again. “She said we’re bullshit. What does that even mean? That she doesn’t love me?”

“I don’t think that’s true,” you said. “Nancy really cares about you-“

“But does she love me?” He gestured with his hand then let it flop onto his lap in defeat. “I don’t know. I don’t think she does. I don’t know why she would.”

“What do you mean?” You furrowed your brows at him. “Why wouldn’t she?”

“Because I’m…” He gestured again, like he didn’t know how to articulate what he was trying to say. “I’m me. I’m an asshole. I’m dumb. I care too much about being popular. She’s too good for me.”

“Steve, that’s not true,” you said, laying your hand over his. “You’re an incredible person. I mean, sure you have a reputation, but since you’ve dated Nancy I’ve gotten to see some of the real you, and…I like the real Steve.”

He slowly looked up at you. “You do?”

“Yeah, of course I do.” You smiled gently. “I like the real Steve a lot.”

Steve’s eyes searched yours. His gaze darted down to your lips for only a second before meeting your eyes again. Then he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours.

You were shocked at first, your eyes going wide. But you quickly melted into his kiss - it felt so right. Steve moaned against your lips as he deepened the kiss and you grabbed onto his shirt, pulling him closer to you. The kiss turned heated fast, Steve’s tongue slipping into your mouth and pressing against your own. Your tongues danced together in a sloppy rhythm, your kisses hungry and desperate for one another.

His hands trailed under your dress, feeling the smooth skin of your plush thighs, one hand sliding between your legs to tease you through your panties. You gasped - you’d never been touched there before. It was new, exciting. You were wet already, and Steve could feel it.

“Wet for me?” He mumbled against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip and making you gasp. “I can feel you.”

You blushed deeply, feeling ashamed. What if he didn’t like it? What if he thought it was gross?

He didn’t seem like he thought it was gross. He seemed like he liked it. He pressed against something that had you moaning against his mouth, your grip on his shirt tightening. 

“Have you ever been touched before?” He asked, hand slipping beneath your panties. His fingers traced between your folds, collecting your wetness on his fingers before he started rubbing against that bundle of nerves again.

“No,” you admitted, your voice shaky. “Never.”

“I’ll be gentle,” he promised. “You’re so pretty, you know that?”

You didn’t know that. No guy had ever said that to you before. You thankfully didn’t have to say anything because Steve pressed his lips to yours again, kissing any words away. It felt weird to have his tongue pressing against your own, the way his hands grabbed at you, like he wanted you.

“Can I take this off?” He asked quietly, pulling at your red dress. You heart thundered in your chest, wondering what was going to happen, if you were really about to lose your virginity to Steve Harrington. Who was your best friend’s boyfriend - or, used to be.

You nodded, and Steve smiled, pushing you back onto the bed. He climbed over you, slowly kissing from your legs upwards as he pushed the dress higher and higher. You were shaking, nervous even through the haze of the alcohol. But his touch was so nice, it felt so good, you wanted to keep going.

He pushed the dress over your head until you were left in nothing but your bra and panties, suddenly horrifically self conscious. You crossed your arms over your body on instinct.

Steve gently grabbed your arms, moving them down. “You’re beautiful,” he said. “You don’t have to hide from me. I love your body.”

He sat up then, removing his shirt. His chest was muscular, and he had a lot of chest hair. It was hot, manly. You rubbed over his chest, feeling the ridges of his muscles, the skin beneath your touch. He shivered on instinct, a low moan coming from his lips.

You could feel how hard he was from where he was pressed against your thigh. He grinded against you, moaning, and you felt scared - he seemed big. You didn’t know how you were going to take him - you’d never taken anybody before, and Steve seemed like an advanced place to start.

He reached behind your back and unhooked your bra, removing it completely. His lips found your nipple right away and you let out a mix between a gasp and a moan - it was unexpected and new, but it felt good. Steve sucked on it, running his tongue around it, making you arch your back into his mouth. His hand played with your other nipple until he switched, giving them both attention.

When he was done, he kissed down your chest and stomach, back down to your panties. He hooked his fingers in the waistband, looking up at you. “Can I?”

You looked at him. “Can you what?”

Steve chuckled. “Taste you?”

You didn’t really know what he meant by that. “Um, sure?”

Steve smiled at you, then he pulled your panties down your legs. You felt infinitely more exposed now - no one had ever seen you there before. There were a lot of firsts tonight. Steve spread your legs, and you would have been embarrassed if he hadn’t groaned at the sight.

He lowered himself between your legs, and you gasped loudly when you felt Steve’s tongue between your folds. He groaned again as he began to devour you, sucking at your clit and running his tongue over it.

The feeling was like nothing you’d ever experienced in your life. You moaned uncontrollably, hands shooting down to tangle in Steve’s hair. He moaned against your pussy as he ate you, loving every moment of it.

Steve was grinding his hips against the bed, his cock rock hard and aching beneath his pants. He lapped up every bit of wetness you gave him, you were the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. 

“Christ,” he moaned against you, truly burying his face into you and breathing in your scent. “You taste so good. I can’t get enough.”

You were losing your mind. Pitchy moans spilling from your lips, body writhing on the bed. Whatever he was doing was incredible, it made your body feel like it was full of electricity, a coil tightening deep in your belly.

“Steve…Steve…” you moaned, pulling on his locks. You started grinding yourself against his face, desperate for more more more, desperate for him to never stop. You thought you might die if he did.

You felt something pressing against your entrance, making you jump. “What…what are you…?”

“Jus’ getting you ready,” he hummed against you. “‘s okay?”

You were too out of it to think much about it. “Um…yes.”

You gasped loudly at the intrusion of his finger pressing inside you. You’d never even done this to yourself before, the feeling completely foreign. Weird, but good. He slowly pumped his finger in and out of you, you were so wet there was hardly any resistance.

You were so lost in the pleasure he was giving you that you barely noticed when he began pushing a second finger inside. But suddenly you were even more full, his fingers curling deep inside you and pressing against something that had you moaning his name even louder.

“Steve! Oh, fuck-“

“That’s it,” he moaned against you, “just like that. You gonna cum for me?”

You whined in response, shaking hand tightening in his hair. He chuckled, moving back to suck on your clit again and sending you reeling. He pumped his fingers faster and faster, your back arching off the bed as your vision began going white.

“Oh, god- fuck! Steve, ohmygod, holy shit-“

Steve put his all into it as your orgasm hit you, working you through the most mind blowing experience of your life. How was he so good? You felt like you’d died and gone to heaven.

“That’s it, baby, cum f’me,” he encouraged you, but as the orgasm intensified you began grinding against his tongue, shutting him up happily. He moaned against you, sending vibrations through your clit.

He rode you through it until you couldn’t take it anymore, until you were pushing him away and he was grinning with the confidence only King Steve could possess. You suddenly understood the nickname.

He kissed up your body, working his way back up to your lips. He quickly undid his pants, shoving them and his boxers down his legs. You were right - he was huge. He wrapped a hand around his massive cock, slowly stroking it as he looked down at your body.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he slurred, and he wobbled a bit as he sat up on his knees. The room felt like it was tilting back and forth, like you were on a boat. It was not helping the nausea building in your stomach.

Steve spread your legs, settling himself between them. He grinded his cock through your folds, coating it in your wetness as he nipped and sucked at your neck. “Y’ready?”

“Uh…yeah,” you said, holding onto Steve’s shoulders. It made you feel safer somehow.

His thick tip pressed against your entrance, and you let out a loud gasp as he pushed through, stretching you around his cock. Your nails dug into his back, making him hiss as he slowly pushed deeper inside.

“Fuck. You are so tight.” His breath was coming out in huffs of hot air against the skin of your neck, quiet moans beginning to spill from his lips as he bullied his cock further into you. “Shit. You can take it. I know y’can take it. Just let me in, baby.”

You tried your best to relax your muscles, trying to just lose yourself to the feeling and let Steve have you. It was starting to feel good, the deeper he filled you the more full you felt. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt.

Steve moaned loudly into your neck once he bottomed out, pumping into you shallowly a few times before he pulled farther back, slapping his hips into you. You let out a mix between a gasp and a moan, your eyes squeezing shut.

“You okay?” he asked, but it was obvious in his expression that he was desperate to keep going.

“I’m okay,” you said. “You can keep going.”

Steve smiled down at you before pressing his lips to yours again and setting a quick pace fucking into you. The sounds of your skin meeting and the bed - Tina’s parents’ bed - creaking from Steve’s movements filled the large bedroom. You worried people would be able to hear you from the hall.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Steve praised, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs. “So good f’me. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you, baby?”

You whined in response, brain complete mush as Steve fucked you and the room spun around. You closed your eyes, hoping to calm the situation.

Steve pushed your legs up higher, pressing your thighs into your body and spreading your legs wide. This allowed him to get way deeper than before, and now he was letting out desperate moans, losing himself in the pleasure of you.

“Shit…I’m gonna cum,” he said as his thrusts became sloppy and fast, his cheeks, neck, and chest flushing red. “Fuuuck, I’m gonna cum. Fuck, are you gonna take it, baby?”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, not even processing the question. There were no thoughts of condoms, no thoughts of pulling out even. Neither of you thinking, Steve neared his release inside you, holding onto you tightly.

“Take it, take it,” he cried out, biting down on your neck as he let out one last guttural groan, spilling his cum into you, every last drop as he rode out his high. You held onto him, feeling all of him.

Steve’s chest was heaving with his breaths as he pushed up on his arms, placing a kiss to your lips before he pulled out, collapsing on his back. You didn’t know what to say. You just laid there for a few minutes until Steve eventually rolled over to the side of the bed, standing and pulling his clothes back on. He tossed you your dress and you used it to cover your body, suddenly feeling self conscious.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” he said as he slipped his shoes back on. “It’s been a long night.”

—

The next Monday, Steve and Nancy walked into school hand in hand. Your heart stopped in your chest at the sight, guilt eating you from the inside out. You tried not to get sick over it as you went through your day, until you got to talk to Nancy and Barb at your lockers.

“He came to my house with flowers,” Nancy said, smiling. “He said he was sorry and he didn’t want to be without me.”

“Aww!” Barb said, hand over her heart. “That’s so cute. He really cares about you.”

“Yeah,” was all you could add, because you knew you were the worst friend on the planet.

You were even more surprised later that day when someone grabbed your arm on the way to lunch. You turned to see Steve, looking at you seriously. “Can we talk?”

You hadn’t seen Steve since he’d been inside of you, you know, taking your virginity, a couple days ago, and that was the only thing going through your mind at that moment. “Um, yeah, sure.”

Steve led you down the hall and into the library, opening the door for you to one of the study rooms. You followed him inside and he shut the door, turning to you with an expression that told you how stressed out he was.

“Look,” he said, “about Tina’s party - what we did - I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have done that. I…really care about Nancy, and I don’t want to hurt her. I want to be with her.”

You just listened to him speak, his words only intensifying the ache in your chest. You knew it was coming, but it still hurt. You didn’t say anything, waiting for Steve to continue.

“I just don’t want this to get out,” he said slowly. “So…is it okay if we keep this between us? Never to repeat or be talked about?” He looked at you hopefully, praying you would keep the secret.

“Oh,” you said. “Sure. I won’t tell.”

“Awesome,” Steve said, breathing out a sigh of relief. “You know, it would just hurt Nance if she knew. And it’s never going to happen again, so there’s no point in her knowing, right?”

You weren’t sure you truly agreed, but you nodded along anyway. “Okay.”

“Good.” Steve smiled softly at you. His large hand rubbed your upper arm. “Thanks for understanding.”

The rest of the school day was extremely awkward - at least for you. Nancy and Barb were totally oblivious to what you’d done, and Steve was acting like he barely knew you.

You wondered if this was something he’d done before - taking girls’ virginity’s and then acting like it never happened, leaving them behind. When you slept together, you hadn’t exactly thought you and Steve would be together after (well, you were drunk so you weren’t thinking much at all), but you didn’t think he’d just go back to Nancy like nothing happened.

Something about it stung.

And they stayed together. This wasn’t the fling you had originally warned Nancy it might be. They seemed really into each other, which was really unfortunate for you, because you realized something that left you horrified.

You had developed feelings for Steve Harrington.

You always thought it was bullshit when they said in church as a kid that every time you have sex with someone you give a piece of yourself away, but you had truly given Steve a piece of yourself you couldn’t get back. But he hadn’t done the same for you.

Maybe it was different for guys? Or maybe you were just an idiot who fell for her best friend’s boyfriend after having sex with him.

It was hard to look Nancy or even Barb in the eye at all. Steve may have been able to forget what you did, but you couldn’t. You had betrayed your lifelong best friend. How were you supposed to keep this to yourself? You didn’t deserve their friendship.

Of course Nancy noticed your extreme self loathing - she was always perceptive. Steve’s just lucky he was better at lying than you.

“Are you okay?” She asked you after school one day while you and Barb were studying in her bedroom. “You seem upset lately.”

Oh, god. It was going to come out. You were going to blow it.

“I’ve just been kinda sad,” you said. “Just…stressed with college applications coming up.”

“Oh yeah, me too,” Barb said, a weary sigh coming from deep in her chest. “I’m worried I don’t have the grades. I want to go to Emerson with you guys, but I don’t have an extra curricular either.”

You were grateful as the conversation easily transitioned into college applications and the upcoming test in Mrs. O’Donnells. Your brain was elsewhere.

Not only were you consumed with guilt, but also the memory of Steve all over you, his hands, his mouth, his cock-

“Are we still having our movie night this weekend?” Barb asked a bit later as you were all preparing to leave.

“Oh,” Nancy said sheepishly, a blush rising to her pale cheeks. “Actually, Steve planned a surprise date this weekend. I’m not sure what we’re doing, but…” she giggled. “I don’t know. He might want to do more.”

Your head snapped up then. “You guys haven’t had sex yet?”

Nancy blushed even deeper. “No. I’ve been nervous. I want it to be with the right person at the right time. But I think we might this weekend.”

You felt sick. Not only had Steve slept with you before Nancy - your best friends couldn’t even know you’d lost your virginity - but now he was probably going to actually have sex with her. You wanted to say something, to stop it, but what could you say?

Nothing.

So you watched Nancy gushing about Steve and pretended it wasn’t killing you inside, pretending like you didn’t have feelings for him and never had. You were pretty good at pretending, after all.

—

It had been two months since the hookup when you started getting sick. You assumed it was a stomach bug at first, to the point that you let your mom take you to the doctor - only to get the biggest news of your life.

“You’re pregnant,” the doctor said, and you were suddenly grateful you’d told your mom you didn’t need her to go back with you.

The news had sent you reeling. There in the doctor’s office, your head spun, your vision dotting like you might pass out. Because this could not be happening. There was only one potential father, and he couldn’t be, he was with Nancy, you couldn’t do this-

The doctor gave you pamphlets on your different options, which you hastily stuffed into your bag. You weren’t ready to tell your parents about this yet. When you walked out of the office and your mom asked what the doctor said, all you could say was “Nothing, just a virus.”

“Did they give you any medicine?”

Yeah, a prescription for prenatal vitamins. “No, mom.”

Your mom looked worried. “Maybe we should go somewhere for a second opinion, you’ve been so sick it’s not normal-“

“Mom, I’m really fine,” you attempted to assure her. Please, you were not ready to come out with this yet. To anyone.

“I’m just worried,” she said, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t want you to be sick.”

“I promise I’m okay.” You gave her the most encouraging smile you could muster. “I’m feeling better today already.”

That was not true. You were getting sicker by the day, the “morning sickness” (more like all day sickness) kicking your ass. You knew this was your fault, but you still found yourself mad at Steve. Both of you had drunkenly agreed to sex without a condom, so it wasn’t really fair to put the blame on him, but when you were on your knees in front of the toilet for the 15th time that day, you didn’t care much about fair.

You were utterly panicked over the idea of being pregnant. What did this mean for your future? College? Falling in love one day? What guy your age wants to settle down with a step kid?

You considered abortion, but ultimately decided not to. Adoption was also considered, but you figured this was your baby, and you wanted to keep it. You felt bonded to it. Like whatever came, you were in this together.

What about Steve? How would he feel about this? Not good, you could imagine. He was still going strong with Nancy, and- 

Oh god, Nancy.

She would never forgive you. Your friendship was over. You ruined everything. Barb would probably hate you, too. You would be friendless, boyfriendless, and pregnant.

Great. Good decisions, you thought to yourself.

You kept the news to yourself for weeks. You couldn’t bear to tell a single soul. Who could you tell? No one would be happy for you. Every person you had to tell would end in disaster.

It was weird, seeing Steve with Nancy, happy and like you never even existed, while you carried his child. You felt an internal longing towards him, like maybe the baby knew who their father was. Which was crazy, because it was still only cells working to become a human being.

You had your first ultrasound before you told anyone. You borrowed the car and drove yourself, stomach in knots as you waited in the waiting room. The ultrasound itself was uncomfortable - you always thought of them like they were in the movies, the little wand on your belly, but they explained that this early they usually do an internal ultrasound, which is just as unpleasant as it sounds.

You watched as the image showed up on the screen. The tiny little vaguely human shaped blob, wiggling around in there - inside of you. Alive. The tech took measurements, and you even heard the heartbeat. It took your breath away. You wondered what Steve would think if he knew, if he’d been there to experience it.

The tech said you were 9 weeks pregnant, due in July, which lined up perfectly with Halloween night. Not that there were any other possibilities. She printed you a bunch of photos, showing the tiny baby from multiple different angles.

As you left with the photos clutched in your hand, you wondered how long you had before you were forced to come clean about this. Not long, you figured. Would it be better to just come out and say it now?

No. You weren’t doing that. You were not ready for that.

Going to school with this secret held deep inside was a lot already. It felt like everyone who saw you knew, even though that was impossible. Like it was written on your forehead.

Having to face Nancy and Barb was even worse. They treated you just like normal, like their best friend, meanwhile you were hiding the biggest secret possible beneath your sweater.

Seeing Nancy with Steve was even worse. They were so happy together. You knew they had to be sleeping together by now. You were nothing but a distant memory, a cheap hookup, another one of King Steve’s conquests.

Except that wasn’t true. The baby growing in your belly proved that. This was one hookup he’d never forget.

—

When you were 13 weeks pregnant, you noticed the smallest bump in the mirror. It took your breath away as your hand rubbed over it, the firm mound of your stomach seemingly popped overnight. This was bad. This meant you were out of time.

You dressed in a loose sweatshirt and leggings, which was not your usual style whatsoever. Nancy and Barb immediately noticed something was up when you met them at your lockers.

“Are you sick?” Nancy asked, reaching for your forehead with the back of her hand like your mom.

“A little,” you admitted. “I’m just not feeling great.”

Nancy looked at you sympathetically. “Maybe you should go home. I can bring you some soup after school.”

You shook your head - “I can’t. I’ve already missed too much school.” Between the days you’d missed with your morning sickness and the days you’d have to miss for appointments, it was woefully true.

Nancy still looked concerned. “I’m just worried about you. You look rough. I don’t want you being sick at school-“

She was cut off with a squeal as Steve came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. He whispered something in her ear that had her giggling before he turned to you. His brows furrowed like he was thinking something, but he didn’t say anything to 

you.

“Ready to get to class?” he asked Nancy. He’d taken to walking her to every single one of her classes. It would have been sweet if not for your current situation.

“Oh, sure,” Nancy said, closing her locker. She turned to you. “You’ll let me know if you feel any worse, right?”

The guilt ate at you. Yeah, Nancy, thanks for caring about me, I’m just sick because I’m carrying your boyfriend’s baby. “Yeah, I will.”

Steve gave you another lingering look before he walked off with Nancy, arm wrapped around her shoulders.

It was later that day when you caught Steve alone. You approached him quickly, taking your chance before you could talk yourself out of it. “Steve. Can I talk to you?”

There was a certain dread on his face that almost made you wonder if he already knew what you were going to say. “Um. Yeah, I guess.”

You found yourselves back in the library study pod you’d had your first conversation in, which felt…poetic. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, fidgeting and uncomfortable as he leaned against the study table. his gaze darted around, like he didn’t want to meet your eyes.

“What did you want to talk about?” he asked. He was ready to get this over with, whatever it was.

“I…” you thought for a moment about what the best way to break the news would be. You realized you probably should have planned your words, that would have made this a hell of a lot easier.

Steve looked at you expectantly. He didn’t want to say get on with it, but at the same time…. “What is it?”

You fiddled with your bag strap, feeling sick to your stomach. “I’m pregnant.”

Steve just looked at you like he didn’t even hear you. He just blinked. Then, finally, a grin spread across his face, which had you confused.

“Ha, ha. Good one,” he said, bowing his head as if he respected the joke. “You had me scared for a minute there.”

“Steve, I…” you tightened your grip on the strap of your bag, wishing you were anywhere but in your current situation. “I’m not joking. I’m being serious.”

His smile dropped immediately. He started sweating, feeling like his shirt was too tight and he couldn’t breathe. His head was spinning. He leaned on the table for support. “No. You’re not.”

“I am,” you said, frustrated at the way Steve seemed to be choosing to not understand or believe you. “I’m pregnant, Steve. For real.”

He shook his head. “No. No way. It’s not mine.”

You jerked back as if you’d been slapped. “What do you mean it’s not yours?”

“It’s not…there’s n-no way it’s mine,” he said, his voice shaking as he stuttered over his words. He scrambled desperately in his own brain for any way out of this, anything that would disprove his involvement in all of this, but he came up with nothing.

“Steve, you’re the only person I’ve ever had sex with and you know that,” you hissed at him through gritted teeth, having gone from scared to pissed off that Steve really had the nerve to deny this baby.

“I don’t know, maybe you hooked up with someone after me. I wouldn’t know. And then you come telling me it’s mine because my family has money? Well-“

“Are you serious?” You raised your voice slightly, making Steve look around in a panic as he tried to shush you. “You know it’s yours. And you’re really accusing me of wanting your money? I don’t give a fuck about your money. I just thought you deserved to know you’re gonna be a dad.”

Steve paled. “I-I…there’s no way, there’s-“

“I know this is a lot to take in,” you said. “Believe me. I know.”

“Can you prove- can you prove it?” he asked, but it was obvious he was just scared, grasping at anything that would make this go away, anything that would make this not real.

You lifted your sweatshirt. The bump was obvious, perfectly round, and not at all in a ‘maybe you just gained some weight’ kind of way. Steve somehow went even more pale, and you suddenly worried he might pass out. 

“Shit,” he hissed. “I- what- how far are you? How long have you known?”

“I found out a month ago. I’m 13 weeks.” You fished the ultrasound photos out of your bag, handing them over to Steve. His hands were shaking terribly as he took them from you, looking over the distinctly baby shaped blob growing inside of you, and sure enough your name was printed at the top.

“How…how many weeks are there? In a pregnancy?” Steve asked, feeling like a total idiot.

You didn’t treat him like one. “40.”

Steve let out a rush of air. “Okay. There’s time. Okay.” He ran a hand through his hair, messing up the style that probably took him an hour this morning. “What…do you want to do? About the baby?”

“What do you mean?” you asked. “Like, do I want to keep it?”

“Well…yeah,” he said. “Do you?”

“It’s too late for an abortion,” you said. “But…I had decided I wanted to keep it. Him or her. I couldn’t…I don’t think I could carry a baby and give them up.”

Steve nodded slowly. It wasn’t what he was hoping to hear, but what he expected to hear. He understood, in a way. He didn’t love the idea of an abortion or adoption either. “Okay. Um. What happens now?”

You didn’t know either, to be honest. “Well, um…do you want to be…are you going to be involved?”

“With…the baby?”

“Yes, Steve.”

He looked around, took a deep breath. “Well, like. It is my kid, right? So…I’m not going to abandon it. Or you. I’m not…I’m not like that, I swear. I own up to my shit.”

“You just tried to tell me I was lying about it being yours for your money-“

“Okay,” Steve said, holding a hand up, “I get it. I’m sorry. I just panicked, okay? This isn’t exactly great news right now.”

“What about Nancy?”

Those words were like a bomb dropped in the tiny room. No one said anything - it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out, like a vacuum. No one knew the answer to that question. What about Nancy?

“She’s going to kill me,” Steve finally said, burying his face in his hands. “Fuck. She’s going to break up with me for good.” He began rambling, his internal monologue spilling from his mouth without filter. “And what about my love life? No girl is going to want to go out with me with a kid on the way. No girl is going to want to go out with a dad at our age. And my parents? Jesus, what a fucking disaster-“

“Steve,” you said, cutting off his frantic rambling. “Calm down.”

He nodded, taking a few deep breaths. You’d never seen him so worked up. “Yeah. Okay.”

“We’ll take it one step at a time, okay?” you said, wondering how you ended up being the one comforting him. “We have time. There is a rush, but we have like 6 months. We…look, Steve, we’re gonna be okay, I think.”

He sniffled, and you wondered if he’d started crying. “Have you told your parents?”

Silence. “No.”

Steve nodded again. He ran both his hands through his hair this time, a nervous laugh spilling unprompted from his lips. “Oh, fuck. We are fucked.”

The bell rang, signaling the start of the next class you were now officially late for. You subconsciously rubbed a hand over your belly, adjusting your sweatshirt and high waisted leggings back to cover it as well as you could. Steve watched you, his eyes locked on the bump the entire time.

“Can I…feel it?”

The question caught you so off guard, you thought you might have imagined it. “What?”

“The…your stomach?” He felt so awkward. “Can I touch it?”

You blinked at him. The question was so out of nowhere, the last thing you expected him to say. “Oh…sure?”

You lifted your sweatshirt again and pushed down the waist of your leggings, exposing the skin again. Steve walked towards you hesitantly, extending his hand. Finally he reached you and placed his hand on your stomach. 

His hand was so big, the entirety of the bump fit beneath his palm. It felt weird to have him (or anyone) touching you like this. Steve had a look of awe on his face, his thumb caressing the firm skin. It was a tender moment, one you didn’t expect.

“It’s really real, huh?” Steve said quietly, almost to himself. “There’s really a baby in there? …My baby?”

You smiled gently. “Yeah. There is.”

Steve stayed there for a minute longer, just feeling. When he finally pulled away he didn’t say anything, just lowered his hand and watched as you readjusted your clothes. Just watching you.

“I guess we better get back to class,” you said. “We’re late.”

“Yeah. You’re right.” Steve laughed humorlessly again. “But I don’t think it matters much anymore. College is out the window.”

You hadn’t even thought about that. That made you feel sick, the idea of throwing away all the hard work you’d put in throughout your years in high school. Watching Nancy and Barb go on to Emerson without you. Not that they’d want you to come with them, anyway. They were going to hate you soon enough.

God, Nancy and Barb. How were you supposed to tell them? Hey, Nancy, I have some news - I’m having your boyfriend’s baby. You felt the panic rising in your own chest now, for about the millionth time since you’d found out. Steve stepped forward, a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, “it’s okay. Calm down, it’s…it’s not good for the baby. We’re gonna figure this out.”

His words surprised you, the way the tables had turned. He took deep breaths with you as you calmed yourself. “I just don’t know what we’re gonna do. I don’t even know where to go next. I’m-“

Steve said your name, grounding you to the moment. He pushed your hair behind your ear, eyes roaming over your face. He wondered if you had been this beautiful all along, or if you being pregnant with his child made you even more luminous.

“It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna take care of you. Both of you. Okay?”

You just nodded, stray tears escaping down your cheeks. “Okay.”

You had to trust him.

—

It was gym class that fucked you over in the end.

You had managed to get out of class since you’d started showing, with excuses about your period and headaches and stomach aches. But eventually your gym teacher got tired of it.

“You’re changing into your uniform and you’re running with us today,” she said. “No excuses.”

So you changed in the bathroom stall, which was already strange enough. You waited until the rest of the girls had left the locker room, including Nancy and Barb, before you walked out and stood in front of the mirror.

Oh, god.

It was worse than you thought. The bump was clear as day below your shirt, perfectly round beneath the soft thin material. You looked at your reflection in horror, smoothing your hand over it, wondering if there was anything you could do to hide this. But when your gym teacher yelled through the door for you to hurry up, you realized you were out of time.

It was coming out. Now.

You walked out of the locker room with your arms crossed over your stomach. You had never felt more exposed in your life. The girls were all sitting on the basketball court stretching, laughing and giggling with each other. You approached Nancy and Barb and slid to the ground next to them.

“Are you cold?” Nancy asked, immediately giving you a strange look. “Because I have a sweatshirt in my locker you can-“

You were about to take her up on that kind offer when the teacher blew her whistle, calling everyone to line up. You joined the rest of the class, and she gave you a look. She called your name - “Arms down. What are you doing?”

You felt like you were on stage with a spotlight directly on you. Every girl in your class was looking at you, wondering what the hell you were doing. You had no choice. You lowered your arms, and there was a collective gasp.

“Holy…shit…” Tina said, not even attempting to hide her laughter.

Nancy said your name softly, and you turned to face her and Barb. “What…” Nancy said, looking at you wide eyed and shaking her head like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “What did you do?”

It was fight or flight, and your brain decided for you. You turned and sprinted back into the locker room, tears falling immediately. You were sobbing by the time the locker room door slammed shut behind you, but it opened again seconds later.

Nancy called your name again as she and Barb hurried to your side, wrapping their arms around you. You wanted to push them away. You didn’t deserve their comfort.

“How did this…” Nancy began, but she was at a loss for words. “Who…when did you…”

“I’m 14 weeks,” you sniffled, wiping at your eyes. “It was…Halloween.”

Nancy gasped. Her and Barb exchanged a look. “Why didn’t you tell us? Who was it? Does he know?”

Your hands were clenched into tight fists. “Yeah, he knows.”

“Who’s the father?” Barb asked again, since you hadn’t answered Nancy either time she had said it.

What could you do? It was time for the truth to come out, ready or not.

“It’s…” you drew in a gasping breath, choking on your own sobs. “It’s Steve’s.”

The room went silent besides the sound of your crying. No one moved. No one dared to move. It was like the calm before the storm, the peace moments before the tornado rips the roof off the house.

“Steve?” Nancy said finally, looking at you like you were dumb and had said something completely outlandish. “Steve…Harrington? My Steve?”

Her Steve.

“Yes,” was all you could say, your voice barely a whisper. “It was…Nancy, I’m so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. It was at Tina’s stupid party, after you and Steve had that fight, we were talking and- just- one thing led to another, and-“

Nancy held her hand up, stopping you. Barb just looked between the two of you, her expression one of absolute shock. Nancy’s normally calm face had been replaced by a mask of pure fury, rage and disappointment and hurt. Betrayal.

“You…you slut!” Nancy spat, and she might as well have slapped you in the face. You recoiled, jerking back as if she had truly struck you.

“Nancy, I-“

“I don’t want to hear anything else you have to say,” she said, standing to her feet. Barb looked between the two of you before she stood, too. Her side chosen.

“I can’t believe you,” Nancy said. “You were really that jealous? You couldn’t stand the thought of me having a boyfriend - of me being with King Steve Harrington - so you had to jump in the middle, huh? Take him for yourself?”

“Nance, that is not it, we were both so drunk-“

“But you knew it happened,” she said. “You knew it happened, and you both made a fool of me. Pretending like you hadn’t…fucked each other, like everything was fine between us, like you weren’t keeping the hugest secret in the world.” She shook her head. “You know what? You two deserve each other.”

She turned them, leaving the locker room and going back to class with Barb following behind her. You stayed there on the floor, alone. You pulled your knees to your chest as close as you could and sobbed, burying your face in your arms.

You cried, and cried, and cried. But you had no right to feel like this. No right to be hurt. You were the one who fucked up. You really betrayed your best friend.

You were the scum of the earth.

Lunch was right after gym, and you didn’t know what to expect. You knew you weren’t going to be happily sitting at your table with Nancy, Barb, and Steve. But on your way to the cafeteria, in the deserted hall, you caught Nancy talking to Steve.

“Do you have something to say to me?” she asked him, her face just as angry as the last time you’d seen her.

“What?” Steve asked with an awkward chuckle. “Babe, I have no idea what you’re talking about-“

“Don’t call me babe,” she snapped, making his eyes go wide. “There’s nothing you think you should tell me?”

He noticed you then, standing off to the side. His wide eyes landed on you, then dropped down to your stomach. He looked back at Nancy. “Oh, fuck, Nance, listen-“

“No, you listen, Steve Harrington.” Nancy pointed a finger in his face, her own twisted in pure fury. “No one treats me like a fool. You think you can go around, fucking whoever you want, being as reckless as you want, then come to me with flowers and lies and act like nothing happened? Like you didn’t fuck my best friend?” Her voice broke at the end of her sentence, and your heart felt crushed in your chest. You realized the gravity of your fuck up - the cherished lifelong friendship you’d lost.

“Nance-“

“Don’t.” She looked up, trying to stop the tears threatening to fall. “I don’t want to hear it. Whatever excuse you have for me, I don’t care. I don’t care that you were drunk. What you did is beyond forgiveness.” She turned and met your eyes again. “For both of you.” When she looked back at Steve, there was resolve in her eyes. “We’re over.”

Steve watched, dumbfounded, as Nancy turned and stomped towards the cafeteria. He felt helpless as he watched her go - the potential love of his life, at least that’s how it felt - over one, stupid, massive mistake. He turned around and punched the locker with a loud “Fuck!”, leaving a large dent in the grey metal.

You approached him cautiously, not sure what you should do, if anything. He turned to you with tears welling in his brown eyes. He looked devastated. You felt guilty about that, too.

“Steve, I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Not now.”

You watched helplessly as Steve stormed off, leaving you alone in the hallway. You really were alone. Completely.

—

You had pretty much resigned yourself to the fact that your life was over. No friends, no boyfriend, the father of the baby possibly not involved. You didn’t know if you could trust Steve to stick around like he said, especially with the way he had left you earlier.

After school, you had to call your mom to come pick you up. You made up a lie about Nancy having a doctor’s appointment, and your mom told you she’d be there after work.

With time to kill, you ended up in one of the study pods again. You flipped through your physics textbook, no homework to be done. You had nearly fallen asleep when the sound of someone walking in startled you.

You looked up to see Steve, giving you a sheepish look as he settled into the small space. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey?” you said back, cautious of whatever he had come to say. With the way things were going for you, it couldn’t possibly be good.

“I just…” he sighed. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry, about earlier. I shouldn’t have stormed off and left you like that.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s okay. I’m sorry about…Nancy.”

“It’s not your fault. Well, not any more your fault than it is mine.” He huffed a short laugh. “We both knew this was coming, though, didn’t we?”

You supposed you did. It didn’t make it any easier.

“She was my best friend since kindergarten,” is all you could offer. Then, like a dam breaking, you burst into tears. You covered your face with your hands as you sobbed, wishing you could undo everything.

“Hey, hey,” Steve said gently, wrapping his arms around you. He pulled you into a tight hug, his large hand rubbing your back soothingly. It helped, surprisingly. You knew you were soaking his polo shirt. “You’re okay. Breathe for me, alright? You’re okay.”

You tried to breathe slowly, following the slow up and down of Steve’s chest. Eventually you were breathing with him again, slow and steady. “Good,” Steve said, and even the rumble of his voice through his chest was soothing. “Can’t have my baby mama freaking out on me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. Steve was good at getting you to smile when it felt like you never would again, that was for sure. He put his hands on your shoulders and pushed you back slightly to look at you. His face was etched with worry as he took in your puffy bloodshot eyes. “I mean it, you know. It is going to be okay.”

“What about Nancy?” you asked, lip wobbling as you thought of your former best friend again.

“Nancy…” Steve sighed. “I hope she’ll come around. You know, things won’t be the same, but…”

But she might not hate your guts, you finished the thought in your own head.

“You’re not upset that she just broke up with you?” you asked.

“Of course I am,” he said, letting out a sigh. “But you’re my main concern.”

“Me?” You were taken aback. “Why me?”

Steve let out a disbelieving laugh. “Really?” He placed a hand on the bump, an affectionate gesture. “That’s my little nugget in there.”

Something about the way he said it sent heat to your cheeks. It was the most affection you’d received from him since you told him. And it was…nice. You hadn’t had anyone to be excited about this with you, to talk about the future and baby names and whether it would be a boy or a girl. You wouldn’t have any friends jumping to throw you a baby shower or anything, but maybe Steve could be that support for you.

“Yeah,” you said simply. “It is.”

Steve smiled softly at you. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to either of you. I hope you know that. You have my word, and I don’t go back on my word. I was a boy scout.” He held up a salute. “Scout’s honor.”

You laughed. It was incredible to be feeling lighter than you had in months. Steve had that effect on you, somehow.

“I may not know how to be a dad,” he said, “but I guarantee I’m going to be the best one.”

—

Steve kept his word. He stuck by your side. It didn’t take long for the news to spread around the entire school - not just that you were pregnant, but that it was Steve’s, and that he and Nancy had broken up.

Nancy was still furious. You hated that you had dragged her into this with you, that the whole school was laughing at her for being so clueless. It wasn’t her fault and she didn’t deserve that.

Steve didn’t let anyone say anything to you. The first time Tommy tried to give you shit, Steve punched him in the face. Somehow, they were still friends.

Steve walked you to every class, carrying your books for you and not letting you lift a finger. You sat with him at lunch, ignoring the dirty looks from Carol. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to be friends with her. That was okay with you.

He started picking you up for school and bringing you home. Usually your parents weren’t home in time to see him, but on this particular day, 16 weeks into the pregnancy, they were.

“Maybe you should come inside,” you said, looking at Steve with your brows furrowed, worry etched in the lines formed on your face. “Meet my parents. Maybe…maybe we should tell them.”

Steve took a deep breath. “Look, parents usually love me, but I’ve never had to tell some I got their daughter pregnant.”

You laughed lightly. “Yeah, well…I figure we have to.”

You climbed out of the car, pulling your sweatshirt back on. Steve followed, placing a hand on your back as you both walked up the sidewalk to the front door. When you entered the house, the smell of pasta greeted you instantly. Your mom was in the kitchen and your dad was sitting in his recliner, watching TV.

“Hi, honey,” your mom greeted you without looking up as you walked in. When she finally did look up, she let out a little “Oh!”! at the sight of Steve. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know we’d be having company tonight.”

Your dad looked over, suddenly interested. He eyed Steve, like he was thinking or he knew him from somewhere. “Mom, Dad, this is Steve,” you said, hands in the pockets of your sweatshirt. You could feel the bump beneath your hands,

“Hi. Steve Harrington,” he said in his usual charming way, moving to shake your mom’s hand first and then your dad’s.

“Harrington?” your dad asked, eyebrows raised. “Are you related to Richard Harrington?”

“That’s my dad,” Steve said, his cheeks turning red. You wondered what Steve’s relationship with his dad was like.

“I work for your dad,” he said. “Have since before you were born.”

“Oh,” Steve said awkwardly. You cringed - that was going to make this whole situation even more uncomfortable.

“So what’s the occasion?” your mom asked with a smile as she put the lid back on the pot. You hated that you were about to ruin their good mood.

“Um…Mom, Dad, I have something I need to talk to you about.” You gestured between you and Steve. “Something we need to talk to you about.”

Your mom was instantly concerned, your dad suspicious. “What about?” she asked.

“You might want to sit down.”

That made their worry even worse. Your dad turned the TV off as you and Steve took a seat on the couch, your mom coming in to sit on her chair. “Okay…” she said, “should I be scared?”

“Yeah,” you admitted. Your dad reached over and grabbed her hand. You looked at Steve, who gave you a soft reassuring smile before grabbing your hand. He squeezed it, and you squeezed his back. You took a deep breath and looked back at your parents. The guilt ate at you. “I’m pregnant.”

There was only silence. Your mom covered her mouth with her free hand, tears coming to her eyes. Your dad looked dumbfounded, neither of them knowing what to say.

“And…Steve is the father?” your dad finally asked.

“Um…yes, sir,” Steve said, blushing furiously. Because wasn’t announcing a pregnancy basically telling people ‘hey, we had sex!’? There was only one way we got here.

“Oh, jesus,” your mom said.

“Are you intending to marry her?” your dad asked.

It went silent again.

“S-sorry?” Steve stuttered, his eyes wide.

Your dad looked angry now. “Are you planning to marry my daughter? Make an honest woman out of her?”

“I…I-“

You knew your dad was traditional, but you didn’t expect him to demand you get married. You were only 18. You and Steve weren’t even together.

“Dad, come on,” you said, pleaded. “Don’t do this. It’s humiliating.”

Your dad said your name sternly. “You don’t understand how serious of a situation this is, clearly. Your reputation is going to be drug through the mud. Both of you.” Your dad looked between you. Steve felt as if he was being scolded by his own father - no, that would be worse. “You need to get married. Be together for this child. I know the Harringtons can take care of you.”

“Dad!”

“Look, we’ll revisit this,” your mom said, drawing everyone’s attention. “What’s important right now is this baby. Do you have a doctor? Have you been going to appointments? Taking prenatals?”

“Yes, yes, and yes,” you said.

“No, I’m not done-“ your dad interrupted, but your mom cut him off.

“No more. You’re stressing her out. It’s bad for the baby.”

“Stressing her out?!”

“Steve,” your mom said, ignoring your dad entirely. Steve was grateful for the interruption. “Are you planning to stick around? Be a dad?”

“Of course,” he said instantly. No hesitation whatsoever.

Your mom smiled. “Good. That’s what matters. We can talk about marriage later.” 

Steve paled again.

“This is ridiculous,” your dad said. He stood, walking over to the phone on the wall. He angrily dialed a number, then pressed the phone to his ear.

“Dad…?” you said, dreading whatever he was about to do. “Who are you calling?”

He ignored you. Then, finally- “Mr. Harrington!” he greeted the man on the other line.

Steve looked as if he might pass out. You gripped his hand tighter. “Dad, don’t do this. Please don’t do it like this.”

“Mr. Harrington,” he said into the phone. “Did you know your son is at my house? With my daughter?” A pause. “Yes. Well, apparently, we’re going to be in laws.”

You closed your eyes, the embarrassment and dread physically painful. Steve was nervously bouncing his leg so hard the whole couch was shaking. Your mom stood up, trying to talk some sense into your father, but the damage had already been done.

Your dad held the phone out towards Steve. “He wants to talk to you, son.”

Steve walked over to take the phone like he was walking to his own execution. His hand was shaking as he took it from your father’s hand, then held it to his ear. “…Dad?” He held the phone away from his ear as you could hear the man screaming from where you sat across the room.

“Dad, listen…I-yes, I did, but it-…yeah, I was seeing Nancy. It’s a long story. I-…she’s not a-…okay. Yeah. Okay. See you at home. Yeah. Bye.”

Steve hung up the phone, looking completely dejected. This had gone way worse than you expected. Steve was horrified. You felt guilty once again, that you were putting Steve through this and that you had let your parents down. They didn’t even know about the whole Nancy’s boyfriend thing yet.

“I gotta go,” Steve said to you, looking apologetic and sad. He put his hand on your upper arm, thumb caressing it over the material of your sweatshirt. Then, surprising you, he put his hand on your belly. He smiled down at it affectionately. “Bye, lil’ nugget.” He looked at you again. “See you tomorrow.”

Even with Steve gone, the tension in the room was still high. Your mom was looking at you like she couldn’t believe her baby girl was doing things like having sex and getting pregnant. Your dad looked at you like you’d disappointed him greatly. You didn’t know which was worse.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and freshen up for dinner,” your mom finally said, forcing a kind smile onto her face.

“Okay,” you said. You were grateful for the excuse to get out of this room. You hurried up the steps, heading into your bathroom to pee for the millionth time that day and then take a shower. You stared at your body in the mirror when you got undressed - it was weird, the changes it was going through. You looked so different already, and it wasn’t even halfway through yet. Almost, though. That thought was terrifying. 

After your shower you blow dried your hair, then walked into your bedroom wrapped in a towel. You collapsed back onto your bed. Your back hurt, your feet hurt, and you still weren’t even that big yet. God, how embarrassing will it be to go through graduation super pregnant? You hadn’t even thought of that. The whole school watching you knowing what you did. And Hawkins was small. This would follow you forever.

You dressed in a t-shirt and comfy pants, brushing your hair out and doing something with it. You didn’t have the energy to put in much effort. You didn’t even put on any makeup before you went downstairs, taking a seat at the table and putting a serving on your plate. It was still tense, like you’d interrupted a heated conversation. You didn’t want to put stress on your parents’ marriage, too. You had already caused so much collateral damage.

After dinner, you waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, just as you were starting to doze off, the phone next to your bed rang. You snatched it off the receiver so fast it barely had time to make a sound.

“Steve?” you said quickly, praying it was him and that he was alright.

“Hey,” he said, his familiar voice bringing you a weird sense of peace. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” You couldn’t believe Steve was worried about you first amidst all of this. “Are you okay?”

He sighed deeply. “Yeah. My dad is pissed. Both my parents are furious.”

“Oh,” you said. “I’m so sorry, Steve.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. But, uh…they want to meet you.”

You froze. “They want to meet me?”

“Well, yeah. You’re having their grandchild.”

When he put it like that, it sounded so much bigger. You put a hand on your stomach, rubbing in circles around it. “Okay. We can do that.”

“It’s not just to yell at you, I promise,” he said with a slight chuckle. “They got that out of their system with me tonight I think. They just want to know you. They want to be involved with the baby.”

“Okay,” you said again. “Um…when?”

“Friday maybe?” he asked. “You can ride home with me after school.”

“Alright.” It was quiet again for a while. “I’m glad you’re okay, Steve. How are you feeling with the whole…Nancy stuff?”

He sighed. “It sucks. I’m not gonna lie to you. I miss her. I miss her, like, a lot. She won’t even look at me. It hurts.”

You felt terrible. “Steve, I’m so sorry. This is such a mess.”

“Yeah, it is.” You could almost hear a smile in his voice when he spoke again. “But it’s not all bad. I’m…kind of excited to be a dad.”

Your eyebrows flew up. “Really?”

“Yeah. I always wanted to be a dad.” A beat of silence. “It’s earlier than I wanted, sure, and I’m not even sure what we’re going to do, but I know that we’re having this baby and I’m going to love them and be the best dad. Better than my dad.”

His speech made you feel fuzzy inside, your heart beating hard in your chest. You hadn’t thought about the good parts yet. You’d been too stressed with Nancy, Barb, your parents, Steve’s parents, college…maybe being a mom wouldn’t be so bad.

“You gonna coach little league?” you asked, smiling. You felt giddy, like a teenage girl kicking her feet and talking to her crush. Only, you didn’t have feelings for Steve like that.

“Oh, yeah,” he laughed. “I am! I’m looking forward to it. I played baseball, basketball, I was the captain of the swim team…”

“Wow. I knew you were a jock, but I didn’t know you played so many sports.”

“Good at them, too.” The pride was evident in his voice.

“Are we gonna have a little sports prodigy?”

“God, I hope so.”

You laughed. Steve made you feel a way you truly didn’t understand. It was like butterflies in your stomach, goosebumps on your skin. You remembered what it felt like to kiss him, to-

“What if they’re more like me?” you asked. “Will you be disappointed?”

“Like you?” he said. “What, smart as hell? No, of course I wouldn’t be disappointed. I’d be so proud to have a genius kid.”

“Genius?” you laughed. “I am not a genius.”

“You’re super smart.” A pause. “Our baby would be lucky to be like you.”

Your heart beat harder. “Steve-“

“Oh, shit. I gotta go. My parents grounded me and put me on a curfew.” He scoffed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” When you heard the click of him hanging up the phone, you felt disappointed. Like you missed him immediately. Your fingers itched to call him back.

You made yourself turn off the lights and get into bed instead. Your head was plagued with thoughts of Steve. You couldn’t think of anything else. You had visions of him holding a newborn baby, playing with a rambunctious toddler, playing baseball with a kid, smiling with a teenager. You had a whole life ahead of you with Steve. You, Steve, and your baby.

You wondered if it would be a boy or a girl. You didn’t know if you had a preference one way or the other. As cliche as it was, you just wanted a healthy baby. You felt like you needed to grow up fast now. It wasn’t just you you had to worry about, you had to think of this baby all the time now, first.

You thought you liked being pregnant. It felt nice to carry the baby with you, to be so impossibly close to them, having them inside where they’re safe. Despite the morning sickness (which had thankfully come to an end), you would maybe miss being pregnant after having the baby.

You drifted off eventually to those thoughts- feeling content.

sorry i forgot the taglist!!

@crispystarfishhottub @luveediary @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @melaninjhs

[naburi]

HAVE YOU DONE IT BEFORE?

HUH YUNJIN X READER

FT. LE SSERAFIM, NEW JEANS MINJI AND AESPA GISELLE

TAGS: VIRGIN, SIZE KINK, MOUTH CUM, CREAMPIE

3K WORDS

College is a different world. Girls celebrate when they take someone’s virginity. Body counts became a social status. The campus finds out that one of the freshmen in the basketball team is still a virgin. Yunjin, a popular sophomore, takes this as a challenge. On Halloween night, she sought to have your first time.

“How can I get the basketball team’s attention?” Yunjin is laying on a bed with her friends, brainstorming what costume they will wear at the Halloween party. “Let’s wear some Jerseys!” Kazuha sits up, surprised herself that she came up with that idea. “That’s not a costume,” chaewon interrupted. “It doesn’t matter, what jersey will we wear?” Yunjin is excited with the idea.

All heads are turned when Yunjin and her group sets foot in the Halloween party. For this year’s Halloween. It will be celebrated in one of the frat houses. It is a big house, and selected people can go to a few rooms to have “privacy.” They don’t need to look for the basketball team as they are the loudest and the most chaotic boys on the campus. They are seated in the lounge area of the house surrounded by girls who're also shooting their shots.

“The fuck?” Yunjin blurted when a girl who was dressed in a punk princess costume bumped into her. Minji, a freshman who looks too young to be in college, apologizes quickly. She’s looking around her friends who left her to be with some boys. “Watch where you’re going! Gosh,” Yunjin let it go just because she doesn’t want her mood to get ruined.

The girls walk up in front of the players, wanting to get noticed. A senior saw the girls wearing Lakers jerseys. “Lakers! Lakers!” The team erupted in a chant. “Do you know the lakers?” Another senior asks the girls. “Tell us about them for tonight” Yunjin rebutted with a smile. Kazuha’s plan of wearing a basketball jersey just worked. Now all she needs to do is to have private time with the freshman.

She’s looking around to find the Freshman as he only saw him in pictures. The freshman is in the corner in between some sophomore’s players. Yunjin’s eyes widened when she noticed that the freshman was bigger than some players. The freshman has been recruited in the basketball team based on physical aspect alone. You are the back up center of the team as they ought to develop your skill set with his 4 year tenure in college.

You are taller and bigger than anyone your age, that’s why you grew up being an outcast as everyone feels intimidated by your sheer size. This hinders your social skills, thus being shy around people. Yunjin pauses for a second, thinking if she still will pursue you. She is not a stranger to taking big cocks but your body tells you that you might have the biggest cock she will ever see.

Chaewon notices the brunette girl’s hesitation. “Can you imagine how popular you might get by taking the virginity of the biggest guy on the campus?” The short-haired girl said. She might not be able to walk properly for a few days but the fame she will have is enough for her to continue on her pursuit. “Hey, big boy~” Yunjin said to you as she sat on your lap. “Damn you got this boy!”, “don’t let us down big boy!” The basketball team cheered in excitement as one of their freshmen just got a chick for tonight.

“H-hi,” you said awkwardly as Yunjin was sitting on your right thigh. The brunette smiles as she thought it would be easy to get you tonight. “I heard a lot of things about you,” She said while holding the guy’s arms, gently feeling his muscles. You took a big gulp as this is the first time girls advance on you like this. “I heard you were strong…” she continued as her fingers ran all over the guy's arms. “I heard rumors on how strong you are!” Your teammate said. Yunjin’s friends are now in between the players.

But one girl has caught Yunjin's attention, she has long pink hair and is wearing a Spider-Man costume. One of the senior players has his arms around the girl as they are obviously flirting with each other. The girl looks familiar but she doesn’t know her name. She has seen her a few times in the hallway before, concluding that the girl is also a sophomore like her.

“Lift her up!” Your teammate shouts. “Lift her up, lift her up!” The rest of the team chant in unison. You look at Yunjin waiting for a response. She just smiles at you before whispering: “lift me up like a trophy.” The way she said it turns you on. For a brief moment, you forgot how socially awkward you are. You put your hands on her armpit as you lift Yunjin before standing up. Yunjin is surprised at how easy it is for you to lift her. She felt something… knowing that you can just toss her around like a rag doll. Pools of fantasies flash on her mind.

The team erupts with the display of your strength. The pink haired girl has been also lifted up in the air by the player she’s flirting with. Yunjin felt annoyed as she doesn’t like sharing the spotlight with another girl. Giselle doesn’t care about what’s happening around her. All she cares about is that getting lifted in the air might be the last straw. She wraps her legs around the basketball player and hugs him into a kiss.

The basketball team and the crowd pause for a moment before the crowds erupt in a roar. They are all shook by the sudden show of affection between the two. The crowd continues to cheer as Giselle has been put on top of the guy's shoulder, carrying him like a sack of potatoes. She carries Giselle upstairs to get a room of themselves.

“You should also get a room!”, “carry her as well!” Your teammate said excited for you to bag the brunette. Yunjin see’s this perfect opportunity and took it. “Yes! Let’s get to know more about each other upstairs!” She said giggling but her eyes were hinting at something else. This makes you nervous but you don't want to disappoint Yunjin. You pick her up by the waist and legs, carrying him upstairs like a princess.

“Have you done it before?” Yunjin asked as if she didn't know the answer. “D-done what before?” You know what she’s insinuating but you don’t know how to answer her. You can lie and tell that you have an experience but she may sense your inexperience or you can just tell the truth but you thought this will turn her off. “Hmm, let’s ask a different question, have you kissed a girl before?”

“Y-Yes,” you said feeling guilty. You have been kissed on the lips by your highschool classmate before. “No no, I feel jealous,” Yunjin pouts, her face looking sad. Yunjin doesn’t really care about it, she is just acting jealous to get a reaction from you. Not knowing what to do, you try to explain yourself to her. “Can you kiss me as well?” Yunjin said hoping she can start the action by making out with you.

Agreeing with her, Yunjin sits on top of you again. She puts her two arms around your neck. You can’t look her in the eye as you don’t know exactly how to kiss a girl. “It’s okay, just close your eyes, let me kiss you,” she assures you. You close your eyes waiting for her lips, she closes the distance between your lips before giving you a peck in the lips. You thought that’s it and tried to open your eyes but you felt another kiss from her. The kiss lasted longer in your lips, and you felt her tongue trying to go inside your mouth.

Her kiss becomes more passionate and now her tongue is being persistent in entering your mouth. You feel your cock twitch as it gets harder. Yunjin notices this too as she felt your buldge. She smiles as she knows that what she’s doing is working. She continues to kiss you with now holding your face, she tries to make it as passionate as she can. She’s initiating a make out session with you.

Opening your mouth, trying to kiss her back. Her tongue finally enters your mouth as it’s inviting your tongue for a torrid kissing. This is your first time having a make out session, you try to follow her rhythm as you move your tongue but Yunjin just kisses you deeper, having her tongue exploring your mouth. Your kissing has now become a sloppy one. Mouths are wetting as you’re sharing saliva, Yunjin finally pulls back to take a breath.

Yunjin heard a loud bang that came from the opposite room but she didn’t mind it. Giselle got pinned against the wall in the other room. “Let me see your cock,” the brunette said. You froze for a moment, you don’t want to but you don’t want to turn her down as well. Yunjin continues as she didn’t receive any disapproval from you. She kneels to pull your pants down to your feet. She got shine on how big it really is.

She is expecting you to have a big cock based on your height and body but your cock is more massive than expected. It has a grit as big as your forearm. Yunjin gulps in nervousness, she is in too deep now to go back. She spits on your cock multiple times before smearing it all over your cock. She’s trying to lubricate your cock to make it easy sucking it.

You moan just by her touch, your cock is being touched by a girl for the first time. Yunjin finds it cute that you’re already moaning, she strokes your cock faster to elicit more moans from you, she doesn't get disappointed. The brunette is now looking at the thick tip of your cock, thinking if she can take it. “Imagine how popular you will get,” are the words that ring on her mind before putting your cock in her mouth.

With just your tip, Yunjin's mouth is already stretched. You’re looking at her intensely, this is the first time you've had a blowjob, you don’t want to miss any details of it. The girl got motivated by your enthusiasm. She tries to lower her face, to have more of your cock. She’s halfway through your shaft but she finally gag. Your huge cock is too much for her mouth. Her cheeks are filled up by the girth of your cock. Your dick could compete with the biggest dicks on porn sites even Yunjin knows that.

She looks back at you with helplessness written on her face. She can’t take more of it. She pulls her head up to take a needed break. Tears are forming on her eyes as she coughs. The brunette looks defeated. She worries that if the campus finds out she can’t take your cock, she might lose her popular status. She gathers herself, ties her hair up and puts your cock on her mouth again.

Yunjin tries different approaches to swallow your whole cock. First, she tried to go as slow as possible, she wanted to make herself get used to the size of your cock. This doesn’t add inches on how much of your cock she can take. Second, she tried to go fast, her head bobbing faster on your cock. With this method, she forced herself to take more than just of your massive cock. This also feels good to you, her tight mouth is sucking you over and over again.

“Mhmm! WTF?!” Yunjin was surprised by your sudden release. You don’t know how to hold it yet and she’s sucking you too good. This made the girl pull away. Her mouth is full of your load, some of it drools down on her face. She thought that she should have anticipated that you will cum fast because you’re still inexperienced. Yunjin doesn’t want to spit it out, she opens her mouth to show you the amount of cum you released on her, she puts her tongue out to show more of it before finally swallowing it.

“Ha Ha, did I suck you that good? Tell everyone I give the best head!” Yunjin hysterically laughs, she might not be able to deepthroat your whole cock, she takes your orgasm as a victory. She strokes your cock again, surprised as you didn’t lose any hardness after you just released. Yunjin hands look way too small when holding your massive cock. Even when she holds it with two hands, it will only cover a half of your cock.

The brunette stands up to remove her jeans, she makes sure to turn her back against yours to give you a good view of her ass. She pulls down her underwear, bending down as she lowers it. Yunjin has a well shaped ass. You were surprised that she has a nice ass in her petite build. The girl sits on your lap again. She sits directly on top of your cock, you can feel her wet slit grinding against your cock as Yunjin tries to tease you before taking your virginity.

The girl squats up while reaching your cock, it aligns it to her slit. You already moan as your tip enters her pussy. This made her laugh for a bit, Yunjin tries to hide the fact that she’s nervous. The girl lowers herself slowly, you can feel her tight slit hugging your cock. Just by taking the tip and some of your shaft, Yunjin struggles to sit deeper as she is already stretched out. The girl doesn’t like being in a vulnerable position, she doesn’t want you to think that she’s weak because she can’t take your cock.

she lets out a war cry before carelessly sitting deep on your cock. This made the two of you moan loudly. Yunjin is stretched out more than even, she moans in pain as your massive cock is stretching her walls to the fullest. You moan loud as this is the first time you felt your cock being inside of a pussy. Her walls are tight and warm, it’s hugging your cock like it wants you to cum already. Even with her desperate attempt, Yunjin hasn't fully sat on your cock as a whole. She just just sits on it more than how deep she deepthroat you.

The brunette is contented by this, she can just make an excuse that no girl can take your cock as a whole and this is the deepest anyone can get. Yunjin is holding on your chest as she tries to pull herself up. This made the two of you moan again loudly. Yunjin feels her walls are collapsing as your massive cock is going out of her. This sensation feels too good for you. Yunjin doesn’t care anymore. She repeatedly sits on your cock. Not caring about how painful it is.

Yunjin looks determined, she looks you directly in the eyes with glimpses of hatred. She hates how massive your cock. Yunjin keeps moaning as she continues to sit on your cock. She removed the Lakers jersey as she felt her body heating up. Yunjin's boobs are in front of you. She has small but well shaped boobs that perfectly compliments her frame. She reached for your two hands to put in her boobs.

She feels your cock twitch as you hold her boobs, Yunjin smirks for a bit, even though she's struggling with your cock. She still has full control of the situation. You grab her boobs, squeezing them gently. Yunjin unlocks her bra and removes it to give you a better view of how perfect her body is. She is a confident woman, she knows that one of her strengths is her sexy petite body. She holds your fingers trying to teach you to pinch and play with her perky boobs.

The brunette who’s on top of you knows moves faster. It doesn’t hurt her as much anymore as she gets used to your girth. She tried to go deeper but her human body really has a limit. Yunjin knows find her rhythm, you are are speechless on how good this feels, paired up the sight of a orange haired chick who’s fucking herself in your cock while her boobs is on your hands.

The girl felt your cock twitching inside her. “Cum inside me, tell everyone that I have the best pussy!” Yunjin says loudly. She picks up her pace and guides your hand to her waist to help her get stabilized. Yunjin moans as this feels good now for her too. Your cock twitches more signaling you’re about to cum. Yunjin sits on your cock as deep as possible. She let out a loud moan as your massive cock stretches her slit more. Loads of your hot cum fill her slits. Yunjin feels your cock released more inside her as you cum as much as the first one.

Yunjin tiredly lay down beside you, her slit looks like a mess, her slit is still stretched wide open as loads of cum keep flowing out of her. She made it, she finally took the most massive cock in the campus. She took the biggest freshman’s virginity. Yunjin smiles while her eyes are still closed due to how tired she is. She is already basking on this achievement. Yunjin plans to lay down for a while before going back to the party downstairs. She felt that you already stand up

“Wait for me,” Yunjin said while still catching her breath. She wants everyone to know that you did it with her. She looks confused as you are now standing on the edge of the bed. The brunette’s eyes widen when you pull her close to you. Holding her legs up with your both arms. Yunjin looks horrified when you align your cock on her slit.

[happy74827]

Real Life Fairytale

[Robby Keene x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You tried so hard not to be that girl, but the more you were around him, the more you were convinced clichés could be a good thing.

WC: 712

Category: Fluff, First Kiss

Since Cobra Kai coming back later this month, here’s some fluff with the Marty Mcfly of karate.

『••✎••』

It was a typical cliché, and as much as you hated it, there was something that still pulled at you. Something that pulled you right into the arms of none other than Robby Keene.

Your relationship had been rocky at best; it had started out with him pickpocketing your purse and the two of you becoming friends because, at the time, you believed he was simply returning what you lost.

Of course, when your friendship officially became a friendship, he told you the truth and apologized. LaRusso had offered him a job, and everything he did suddenly became about changing his life and earning his place. He wanted to prove to his father that he was more than just some punk-ass kid from the wrong side of the tracks.

So, how did that bring you to where you are now? How did a guy like Robby Keene, dressed up in Marty McFly attire, become the center of your universe?

The Halloween Bash, of course.

Originally, the entire group of friends, the past feud between Robby and Miguel, had long been forgotten, so they decided to do one big group costume. Demetri thought it would be a good idea to go with the Power Rangers, which was fine, except for the fact that Eli was the only one who actually wanted to be a Ranger. Everyone else was either not impressed or completely clueless about who they were.

In the end, the group split off into their own individual costumes, and that's how you ended up with your favorite movie being used as the basis for your outfits.

It took a lot of convincing on your part. I mean, the dude looked practically identical to the real actor; he was the obvious choice. Throw a Walkman on him, and boom, the costume is perfect.

He blamed it on the hair, which it technically was. Ever since he ditched Dora's cut with Diego, he just became that geeky kid who freaked at the word 'chicken.'

And in all honesty, you truly believed he hated that word, too. Eli said it to bait him once, and he did not go down easily.

It only took you an hour to convince him, but after a while, he relented, and the costume was finalized.

So, obviously, when the two of you walked in with swag that only the 80s could pull off, you stayed for about an hour before Robby got bored and decided ice cream was the cure.

Now, the two of you were sitting on the steps of an apartment building, eating a gallon of ice cream and talking.

You swear, you didn't mean for it to happen, but the way he looked at you with those soft, blue eyes and the smile that could make a nun blush, you found yourself leaning closer.

"I had fun," he spoke quietly, his words dancing over your lips. "Even if I do look ridiculous."

You giggled. "Well, isn't that why we have Halloween? To look ridiculous?"

He shrugged and leaned closer, his eyes searching yours.

"You don't look ridiculous, though," you continued. "I think you look pretty good in a life preserver."

He grinned. "Yeah?"

It was something about the way he said that. The way you could hear the smile in his voice, but most of all, the way he looked at you when he said it. Like he was looking for permission to continue with what was already happening.

So, you answered by leaning in, connecting your lips with his, and giving him all the permission he needed.

His hands instantly flew to your hips, tugging you closer, and you found your own hands wrapping around his neck, deepening the kiss.

It was perfect, just like the movies. You regretted dressing up as Doc Brown, though. Not only was the radiation suit itchy, but you were acting like Jennifer Parker, and you didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Still, with the white hair off and his headphones finding their home around his neck, you figured maybe you'd force him to keep that part of the costume because, the way he was looking at you, you didn't want it to end.

You were sure it wouldn't, not any time soon.

[jirsungs]

first halloween... gone wrong? | dms drabble #4

word count: 1.6k words

pairing: drummer!jisung x girlfriend!reader

synopsis: halloween was never your favorite. you would choose christmas over it in a heartbeat, but with your dorky drummer boyfriend who absolutely loves it never leaving your side, you might just tolerate the spooky holiday. (set in the drum me, stupid universe but can be read as a standalone!)

warnings: a knife is mentioned, the dms!couple is flirty and GROSS, but most of this is just fluff.

a/n: HIIII 😭 jirsungs nation, rise! it's been 2 weeks since any story related post has been uploaded, and i just want to deeply apologize for not being here ): i missed writing and putting my delusions down in a google doc. but i hope you guys enjoy this short drum me stupid drabble and missed these cutie patooties as much as i did ☹️ as always, feedback is ALWAYS loved and appreciated! happy reading <3

You were never fond of Halloween. Sure, you loved being able to go all out in costumes and go to Halloween parties with your friends, but you knew immediately that once those plans were over, you were left in your own accompaniment once again.

Some people would be joyful with spending the rest of their nights after parties and such alone, but you? You were used to the party scene and loved it when it never ended. Lucky for you, your dorky boyfriend of a few months, Park Jisung, always kept the party going.

“Hey, have you guys seen Ji?” You asked Ningning and her boyfriend, Jeno, after finally spotting them dancing together on the dance floor. Your voice was louder than usual due to Michael Jackson's Thriller bumping from the party speakers.

“No, we thought he was with you." Ning looks over to Jeno. “I thought he came with you and the guys.”

You both wait for Jeno's reply, but he just shrugs. “He was supposed to, but he was the last one to get ready. If anyone knows where he is, that's Chenle.”

You click your tongue. “I figured. I'm going to keep looking for him. Thanks, guys!”

Ning’s shout of “Good luck!” was the last thing you heard before you committed to walking through the crowd of musty bodies. You were surprised at how many people went all out on their Halloween costumes this year. Your surprise wasn't a bad thing though; if anything, you loved it.

You almost second-guessed your choice of costume. With you and Ning being the only girls in the group, you felt that it was right if the both of you matched. The angel costumes were cute; you were wearing a black tight dress while she wore white, but taking a look at the decided costumes this year, you began to feel basic.

Once you're out of the crowd, you spot Haechan, Mark, and Yeonjun in the corner. You take notice of Yeonjun trying his best to impress some girl while the two boys next to him silently judge, taking occasional sips out of their red solo cups. 

Haechan, in his Pennywise makeup and attire, sees you walking towards them, tilting his head at your costume. “What are you supposed to be? A demonic angel?”

Mark snickers at his friend's comment, which you pout at. “No. I'm just an angel who happens to wear black. And says you, Pennywise, isn't your costume like... super basic?”

Haechan gasps, his hand on his chest for the dramatic effect. Mark rolls his eyes and answers your question instead.

“Every year, the Rockway guys do a group costume. This year, we somehow decided on iconic horror movie killers.” 

“Ahhh… So, that explains your Leatherface mask.”

With a nod of his head, Mark replies with a “Yup.”

You glance back at the party, and the sudden remembrance of why you came up to them in the first place hits you. “Oh! By the way, have you guys seen Jisung? I literally can't find him anywhere.”

Your body physically sulks at their answers, telling you they haven't seen him in a while. With your hope slowly decreasing and the urge to ditch the party increasing, you decide to call him one last time. If he doesn’t answer, you’ll cut the party short and head home, unfortunately finding the comfort of your bed more enjoyable than being here. You loved the company of your friends, but it bummed you out that you haven’t seen your boyfriend all night after him telling you that he’ll be here.

After bidding your goodbyes to the group and giving Jeno the responsibility to get Ning home safely, you make your way to your car. It's late October with the breeze finally coming through, resulting in you rubbing your arms in hopes for warmth. As you walk, your ears pick up on the sounds of your heels clicking against the sidewalk cement until they pick up another pair of footsteps near you. At first, you don’t sweat it, already aware of the scattered groups outside of the frat. 

But as you walk more down towards your car, the shuffling footsteps don’t leave you. Okay, you’ve had enough of this. Your slight irritation was slowly increasing due to this sudden interruption of your plans to waste the rest of your night away by changing out of this angel get-up and watching comfort films.

The only person you craved to see you in this costume was nowhere to be found, anyway. Finally turning around, you face the person but stay near your car for safety reasons.

“Who are you, and why do you keep following me?” You ask.

You didn’t mean to have your words come out sharply, but when you found out your culprit to be someone in a Ghostface costume, it only made you roll your eyes.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but if you’re just here to mess with me, is it okay if you can choose someone else? I really don’t have the energy for this.”

A beat passes and still no response from the person. It was almost as if their feet were stuck in the cement; you were starting to feel chills at the creepy mask staring back at you. But then, your brain starts to put the pieces together.

The replay of what Mark told you earlier back at the party plays in your head. “Every year, the Rockway guys do a group costume. This year, we somehow decided on iconic horror movie killers.” Would it be a coincidence that Jisung, who you haven’t seen all night, just happens to be right in front of you?

Your face softens at the thought of the mysterious Ghostface being your boyfriend. “Ji, baby, if that’s you, I’m going to smack you. Where have you been all night? I called you three times.” 

Still no answer, but now they were slowly walking towards you, revealing what they were holding behind them to be a knife. From where you’re standing, you couldn’t tell if it’s real or a fake replica, but that doesn’t stop your grip on the driver seat handle tightening, ready to pull on it and get the hell out of here. 

But you try one last time. “Okay, quit it. This isn't funny.”

By this point, the wondering thoughts of whether this was Jisung or not cloud your mind. You’re now close to each other, and the Ghostface still hasn’t said anything. 

You know what? Fuck it! You’re not dying today! 

You tug the car door open, ready to rush inside, but the masked John Doe shuts the door before you can. Their gloved hand doesn’t budge on the door, making their body lean against it and impossible for you to get inside.

The fact that they haven’t shoved the knife into your body by now has you suspicious and less frightened, but more agitated. Finally, they remove the mask from their face, revealing— 

“Hi, pretty angel.” 

Your stupid, cheekily smiling boyfriend. 

He has no time to lean in and give you an apologetic kiss on the lips before you smack him on the chest and punch his arm. “You motherfucker!”

“Ow! What the hell was that for?” 

Your eyes squint at him asking you that, resulting in another punch to his arm. “Don’t ‘what the hell was that for’ me! You scared the shit out of me!”

You’re about to smack his chest again, but Jisung’s reflex hits faster than yours. Not giving you another opportunity to hit him, he’s quick to take hold of both of your wrists, which you immediately try to get out of. You hate (love) how strong he’s been getting. With his constant drumming and going to the gym with the guys on the side, it became more and more difficult for you to get out of his grip. 

With your hands unable to move, he takes the chance and plants quick kisses all over your face. Your face flusters quickly with you trying to move away from his lips. He knows he got you when your tugging to get out of his hands stops and you start giggling.

“Ji, stop it!” Your giggles only increase when his kisses do, leading him to drop your hands and place his on your waist instead. 

“I missed you. I’m sorry I didn’t answer; I wanted to keep up the bit of scaring you.” He says after giving you a big cheek kiss and pulling you closer to his chest.

You can’t stop the giddy smile forming on your face. “It’s okay. Just never scare me like that again or I will—” you point your pointy finger on his chest, almost in warning, creating some space between you two, “cut your balls off.” 

But he pays no mind to your threat, smiling down at you like a loser in love. “Yes, ma’am. Never again.”

You encircle your arms around his waist, looking up at him doe-eyed. “Now, can we please go home and watch comfort movies?” 

“Can I first admire how fuckin’ gorgeous you look in this and then go home?”

Oh. You forgot you had this costume on.

Your cheeks heat up at his words. “Language, Park. You could’ve admired this all you wanted earlier if you didn’t leave me alone the whole night.”

He pouts, “Will I at least see this costume some other time, baby?”

"Hmm.” You pretend to think. “I guess, you just have to wait and see.”

“Why wait when I can see it on you tomorrow?” There's a glint in his eyes, and you know it can only mean trouble.

“Easy, drummer boy.”

Little did he know that his almost insulting prank on you sparked an idea in your head. But it’s best to save that for next year, right? 

You guess, with Park Jisung by your side, you wouldn’t mind waiting another year to see what other Halloween pranks he has in store for you.

[bakugoushotwife]

no, please don’t kill me mr. ghostface, i wanna be in the sequel!

>>> you didn’t think you were making it out of kinktober without a visit from ghostface, did you? all cute and sweet pieces, blegh. it's time to play...happy halloween—don’t hang up on me you bitch!

>>> cw: PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION. NO MINORS. dark content ahead. inspired by scream 1996. murder, blood, gore, stalking, yandere!characters, ghostface!characters, manipulation, major character death, alternate no curses!reality, physical harm to reader, manhandling, knifeplay, costumed sex, prone bone, dub con, non con just in case tbh, biting, choking spanking, face-slap, degradation (whore, slut, bitch, etc), praise, breeding, doggy, blood consumption, mating press, throat fucking, edging, double penetration, fingering/knife-fucking (?) (f!receiving) anal. threesome mfm/mmf, breeding. let me know if i missed anything. >>> wc: 15.8k >>> event masterlist: >>> playlist

you were starting to get majorly freaked out. the past year or so had been the worst of your life. your college professor was murdered last fall—sending the small town into a frenzy. some people were mortified. how could someone so brutal be lurking in the shadows of this cheery town? they stopped walking to school and carpooled instead, kids no longer played in the yards, and women rarely went out unaccompanied. some people thought it was funny—something interesting to talk about after years of mundane crimes barely making the news.

you were feeling something much more complex than just fear or interest; you were battling grief. grief that no one else even knew about, adding to the complexity of your feelings. toji was just your business professor—one that you paid frequent visits to on and off campus. you did a good job of covering your tracks, coming up with lie after lie to keep your friends well distracted from your taboo hook-ups with the community’s favorite teacher. they would bully you to tears if they knew you gave your virginity to dr. fushiguro—and between satoru and suguru’s relentless teasing, you would never know peace again. 

plus, it’s nearly been a year, and you were nothing more than the other woman, a young girl that caught his attention over the monotony of marriage. it wasn’t going anywhere, and you knew that. in a way, the emotions you grappled with weren’t grief at all—but guilt. toji had young children—what you did was wrong. you felt that way when he was alive and you were actively doing it—but something about him pulled you in. maybe it was your own naivety that was to blame for believing him when he promised you he would leave his wife for you–all just to get you to put out again and put off your friends. maybe it was the subconscious belief that he was the best you would get, the best you deserved. your parents were hardly winning any awards for their methods, and the only other men in your life have been around you since high school, the aforementioned relentless teasers: satoru gojo and suguru geto. 

you like to think that you put it all behind you, but you can’t stop this creeping feeling that toji fushiguro was murdered because of you. 

and that wasn’t the end of the weird happenings. your lab partner—kento nanami unceremoniously dropped out this month, so the rumors around campus say, but you have a bad feeling about it. you’ve been calling him for days with no response, he has no after school work presence, and his best friend looks like he’s seen a ghost anytime you’re around. it was all the school was talking about, especially approaching the anniversary of dr. fushiguro’s death. 

“i say he was murdered, just like the professor. we have a real serial killer on our hands, ladies and gents!” ieiri shoko—a haphazard extension of your friend group—wiggles her brows, reclined back on her hands to survey the rest of you as she puffs her cigarette. 

gojo rolls his eyes, giving the speaker an unimpressed look. “i think they gotta tick a few more boxes before it’s a serial killer, no? only two murders, and so far apart?” he shakes his head to discount the theory. he makes a good point, perhaps it was just a creepy coincidence after all. there’s no reason to freak yourself out over nothing.  

“yeah? well i think it’s connected too.” iori says from her spot on the ground, her head laying in your lap as you braid and unbraid her hair, just keeping your brain occupied on something other than the death that seems to follow you. 

“yeah? and that’s why you don’t get paid for thinkin’.” gojo snickers, utahime’s annoyed attempt to swat at him blocked by suguru’s body, the two of them sitting behind you at the picnic tables out in the open sun. it made you feel a little safer, surrounded by friends and in a place where you could keep an eye out. you trust gojo and geto to watch your back.

satoru continues to giggle on about it until shoko interrupts, taking her cigarette out of her mouth and pointing gojo down with it. “what if they just pick one of us every year–some kind of halloween sacrifice?” she posits, and your eyes widen. the boys exchange a look, and suguru’s voice of reason cuts in. 

“let’s leave the detective work to the police, yeah? i’m sure sheriff zen’in wants to solve his nephews murder.” he leans back against the table while gojo balances his weight with his elbows on his knees. 

“yeah right. the sheriff couldn’t give a damn. ” you scoff, biting your tongue at the fact you spoke on the subject at all, but especially something so vague—implying you know more about toji than the normal student, and your cautious friends are also perceptive, you fear. 

“what’s that s’pposed to mean? our loyal piggy doesn’t wanna protect the community?” gojo leans forward on his knees, bringing his face closer to yours. he’s studying you—every nervous shift of your eyes, the seconds you let pass before you answer, everything, and you know it. 

“of…course he does. i only meant—” 

“pshhh, everyone knows those zen’in families are weird.” utahime swings in to save you—feeling the way your body tenses under your best friends interrogating stare “why d’you think his last name is fushiguro instead, hm? probably left the family to be a better person—how dreamy of him.” she sighs wistfully, having been another one of the many girls that would have killed to be in your place. “and that old bastard probably doesn’t care. he probably did it himself, knowing how corrupt–”

“smoking on campus, are we, students?” headmaster yaga walks up to send the conversation to a screeching halt. shoko quickly snuffs out her butt on her boot, crumpling the evidence in her hand as the man comes closer. suguru’s never quite cared about the opinions of his elders, and he won’t start now. he keeps slowly dragging his—making eye contact with the headmaster as he comes to a stop before your group in the grass. “geto. you mind?”

he arches his brow in annoyance, sticking out his tongue to burn the ash on. gojo giggles. “what an anarchist!” he cheers jovially, nudging his friend with his elbow. “we didn’t see any no smoking signs sir, swear.” 

suguru cracks a lazy grin at the defense, looking at yaga patiently. “i’m sure you’ve heard the news about your fellow classmate.” he starts, and utahime sits up properly to question him more specifically. 

“that he dropped out? yeah–we heard that days ago.” she confronts with furrowed brows. you can tell by the clench of yaga’s jaw that there’s more news. your heart sinks to your stomach, that bad feeling you had making an ugly return with the shifting of yaga’s stance. 

“what–did they find him?!” you push yourself up to stand, heart pounding in your ears. if kento was dead, was it your fault too somehow? 

yaga turns to you with a sad and curt nod. “they did. he was…strung up outside of his house–brutally murdered. his parents found him. all we know so far is that he was on the phone when he died. his mother heard him.”

you cover your mouth with shaky hands. how awful, to hear your own son gargle his last breaths? what a horrible way to go, you can’t believe your stoic and stern lab partner was no more, meeting a fate so horrible you wouldn’t wish it on your worst enemies. 

“how awful…his poor family.” iori shakes her head, too stunned to speak further. shoko replaces her cigarette with a fresh lollipop, lost in her own head; no doubt contemplating the morbid horror film most closely resembling the current situation—she has a fixation with death.

“there will be a memorial fundraiser to help his family with the funeral costs.” yaga nods, arms folded over his chest. he was clearly at a loss for words, though what could one even really say? he settled for, “be wary, kids. the sheriff’s department will be issuing a curfew. please be safe.” 

iori nods as the headmaster walks away—turning back to look at everyone. you hug yourself, feeling a chill in the air that only reminds you of what time of year it is—halloween. you’re still lost in thought, wondering what toji and nanami could have possibly had in common outside of knowing you and being at this school. what motive could be, who was next. 

satoru and suguru exchange a look. they can see how wound up you are, noting that you seemed to know that something had happened to nanami before you were told. shoko breaks the silence first.

“this is just like scream, you know? spooky phone calls and brutal killings—says here that he was gutted and suspended from a tree.”  she shakes her head, reading the pixelated news article from her nokia screen—grossed out and intrigued at the same time. 

iori gasps, “that’s awful—don’t compare his death to a movie, ieiri!” she scolds, noticing you off in la la land. “earth to y/n…hellooooo? i hope this isn’t a scary movie because you are so dying first.” she snarks, and gojo arches his brows and grins mischievously at the sentiment. he gets to his feet, creeping up behind you–jerking you by the shoulders and gasping just to scare you. 

you scream and jump back—punching him in the chest. “you jerk!’ you huff as he covers his stomach with laughter, stumbling back into his bench seat. suguru gives you an apologetic smile, standing and offering you his hand. 

“c’mon, let me walk you home.” he tilts his head towards the path you take. gojo jumps up too. 

“i’ll come with! make up for my prank?” he pouts, resting his chin on your shoulder. his icy blue gaze stays trained on you until you finally give in and look at him, making a bright grin spread across his face. 

shoko huffs, “you’re an insensitive asshat—i’m sure you’re not taking this seriously because you always picked on kento. i wonder if the piggies know that!” 

“he was a nerd—that’s all!” he scoffs with an eye roll, “oh yeah, so now i killed the guy, huh?” he furrows his brows, insulted by shoko’s insinuation that he could stoop so low. 

“no one said that, satoru.” suguru claps his free hand down on the other’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “let’s all relax. i know this is scary, so make sure we walk in partners, at least.” 

utahime gags and rolls her eyes at the dramatics, stretching out before getting to her feet. you look to her, thinking you should make sure your fellow woman makes it to her dorm, but suguru’s voice cuts through your thoughts again.

“we just want to make sure you get home safely with all of this going on, you look…worried.” suguru comments, stretching his palm out to remind you that his hand was extended for you. your heart warms at his kindness. he’s always been a gentle giant–especially compared to satoru; who has his own charms to him like his sense of humor and his striking good looks. he takes care of you in his own ways—but suguru’s always been more traditional. you place your hand in his, smiling thankfully. he turns to the other girls, but yu haibara is already escorting them the other way, careful to avoid you entirely. your shoulders slump at the idea that he blames you for nanami’s death. 

gojo slings an arm around your shoulders and they steer you towards your off campus rental. it’s a little two bedroom one bath—no satoru mansion, but it does the trick. you’re rarely there anyways, bouncing between your friends’ residences for the “dates” you all go on—though ieiri and iori aren’t typically included. 

“so this stuff’s really got you messed up in the noodle, huh?” satoru asks, exchanging careful glances with his opposite. you hum so he knows you heard him, settling into the rhythm they were walking for you. you don’t know if it’s the question or the crisp autumn air that makes you shiver—maybe it’s the way they both watch you so intensely, though the longer you think about it the more you realize they’ve kinda always been like that, letting their eyes stay on you too long, analyzing your features to decipher how you really feel. you can’t hide a thing from them. you can only buy yourself time. 

“yeah. i guess so.” you settle on, tucking your cheek into your shoulder. you knew they would ask for more specifics, all in the due process of taking care of you. 

“were you even close to that nanami guy?” suguru follows up, brows raised in curiosity. you know this trap. it was a miracle you’ve ever been able to keep toji a secret. they’ve always taken a special interest in your love life—they’re protective over you, and wanted to vet any potential match for you. but the boys you met in high school were easily scared off by the strong and intimidating friends of yours, so you figured college wouldn’t be much different. hence why you didn’t try—taking toji’s affection like a gift that fell into your lap. 

“he was my lab partner, so we’ve done a few projects together. he seemed like a nice guy, never crossed any lines. responsible. the sort.” you shrug again, not wanting to seem too invested. “i guess it’s just…weird. he was here one day and now he’s not, and killed so brutally…it doesn’t feel real.” you explain, and suguru seems to reflect on the words. 

“people die all the time, sugar. maybe he got caught up in something he shouldn’t’ve, maybe wrong place wrong time, or maybe he was eyeing something that didn’t belong to him. who knows. no use troubling yourself over it.” gojo shrugs, sliding his hand up to pat the back of your head. 

“that’s easy for you men to say! if some serial killer came after you, you could fight ‘em off. i have no chance if he was…to pick me next.” you retort, trying to make them see why you were so amped up about it. 

“what makes you think that he would pick you next?” suguru furrows his brows, but gojo just tilts his head side to side to mull it over. 

“nanami was a man, right? i wonder why he died.” he thinks aloud, shrugging. you snap your head towards him to chastise him for such a statement, but suguru clears his throat. 

“you have nothing to worry about, right? like satoru said earlier. these are isolated incidents, and they’ve only gone after men so far. chin up, angel.” he insists as you three walk up the steps to your house. 

you take a deep but shaky breath, nodding. suguru was right. the only victims have been men. toji’s death and subsequently nanami’s had nothing to do with each other. it was just your guilt gnawing at you. if you didn’t get yourself together, your perceptive bodyguards would pick up on the fact that you were hiding something from them. “thank you. i…needed to hear that.” you nod in satisfaction. 

“i’ll call you later, just to make sure you’re still..doing alright.” he assures, patting your hand before he drops it. gojo squeezes you into him, ruffling your hair. 

“don’t worry, cutie. we’ll see you tomorrow!! dream of me!” he calls out as their figures retreat.

once the door shuts behind you, you sigh out a breath of relief. 

you get some homework and laundry done in the few hours you have before bed. it’s a regular routine, but that’s why you found peace in it. you make yourself some dinner and cozy up on the couch, flipping through the channels to find something to make some noise outside of your loud brain. nanami’s picture makes you pause on the news, the reporter droning on about the case. according to phone records from that night, someone called his house six times, calls various in length from where kento was allegedly hanging up and trying to ignore the killer. 

“it seems the young man was stalked from outside his home for the entire night—making a valiant effort to run according to forensics before he eventually succumbed to his injuries. the case is ongoing, and due to the nature of the crime, sheriff zen’in has ordered a curfew of 8pm, beginning friday.” 

you’re reeling at the report, stunned beyond belief. it’s hard for you to even envision something so horrible. he must have been so scared. when your home phone rings—you’re jumping out of your skin–scambling up the couch with a scream. you stare at the receiver on the little side table next to you, fear nipping up your spine. that reporter said that nanami had been called repeatedly the night of his death—but suguru also promised to call. you decide to take the chance, satoru lives close enough that you could call him for help if it was this mysterious serial killer instead of one of your best friends on the other line—plus, nanami’s slaughter showed that ignoring the call wouldn’t help a thing. 

you reach out a shaky hand, feeling your throat go dry and tight as your sweaty palm grabs the receiver. like it makes a difference, you quickly put it up to your ear, looking around frantically. you never realized how many windows your house has, and now it feels like you’re naked for the world to see. “hello?”

“hey, angel.” suguru’s luxurious voice calms your nerves instantly, like throwing water on a fire. you relax back into the cushions, sighing audibly. 

“h-hey.” you card your fingers through your hair in attempt to rid yourself of any lingering anxiety. 

“i take it you aren’t feeling better about the whole ordeal then?” he sighs with you, gnawing on his bottom lip a little. you were troublesome for his own nerves. 

you play with the spiral cord connecting the receiver to the landline. “i was, i swear! then i saw the news and they were warning about phones like yaga did earlier and then–”

“your phone rang. sorry about my timing then, sweetheart. did you eat?” he interrupts, but his concern makes you tingle with warmth. they may be overbearing at times, but it’s so clear how much they care about you. 

“mhm. i have some leftovers though, if you’re still hungry. i could…use some company?” you weakly excuse, slightly embarrassed to basically beg for his protection; but the truth was that you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight unless you had some comfort. 

he chuckles softly and smiles into the phone when he agrees. “of course. i’ll be right over. give me ten minutes—i’ll bring slushies.” he hums enticingly, and you give him a choked up chuckle of relief. he would protect you through the night–and make sure that you had a good time, too.

“kk, sounds good. i want the cherry one!” you tell him like he doesn’t already know everything about your preferences. 

“i know you want the cherry—i’m not a psychopath.” he chuckles with you, his car’s engine humming to life in the background. “i’ll see you soon angel. hang tight.” the line goes dead, but you’re no longer filled with a sense of dread, even if you were still nervous about the murderer on the loose. 

while you wait on suguru, you do some more channel surfing. you wonder what satoru’s up to tonight and if he’ll be peeved that he wasn’t invited to hang out. who are you kidding, of course he’ll be jealous. you reach over for the phone to call him—even with suguru’s headstart he would probably still beat him here if you got to him now. the high pitched ringing of the phone sounds off again just as your hand wraps around it, making you jump just slightly—it caught you off guard, is all. it’s probably suguru calling to tell you that 7/11 is out of cherry—they’re always out of cherry. annoyed, you put the receiver to your ear. 

“ugh, don’t tell me—”

“hello y/n.” the slightly garbled deep voice says. you don’t recognize it–and your heart drops to your stomach. this, this is who’s been murdering people, this is him. this is who they warned you about—why suguru is sneaking out to come see you through the night–suguru. you have to buy enough time for him to get here, if nothing else. 

“who are you?” you ask, trying to give your voice some bravado. you start searching the windows again, the eerie sensation that you aren’t alone was making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. goddamn you need to invest in a dog. 

“blegh–boring question. i want to know who you are, precious y/n.” the voice states, male in nature, but you can’t distinguish anything past that. your heart races at the avoidance. 

“you know my name, and my phone number. seems to me you know who i am.” you clench your jaw together to keep your teeth from chattering, willing yourself to be intimidating. the voice on the other end cackles in amusement. 

“you’re funny y/n. i mean the real you, silly girl! let’s play a game. for every question you get right, the longer i’ll let you live. every question you get wrong…one of your friends… dies!” he seems very entertained with himself over the threats, making the fear bubble up over your heart. 

“m-my boyfriend is on the way! he’s really big and he’ll beat your ass–” 

“and he’ll be the first one dead! question numero uno, and we’re starting easy!! oh, don’t cry now! you can do it, c’mon, iori and ieiri need you right? those are your girlfriends–and that’s not the first question!” he titters again, but his name drops make your rapidly beating heart still in your chest. “how far away is your little boyfriend?”

your chest heaves, the stranger’s wish for you not to cry was wasted. he knows everything–all your friends names—maybe the fact you hadn’t called satoru tonight was the only thing keeping him safe. you wonder how long this stalker must have been following you, listening to you. you wonder if he killed toji too—and why. 

“l-like…six minutes, or so. I-i don’t know!” you cry out, clutching the receiver. you think about the consequences of hanging up—maybe that is what angered him into killing nanami. you better stay on the line. 

“good girl. see? not that hard! just keep using that noggin’ of yours!” he encourages, breathing heavily into his side of the phone. 

you nod, sure he can see you anyway. you shrink into the couch as if it will swallow you whole and keep you safe, but the feeling of comfort is short-lived. 

“why was toji fushiguro murdered??” 

you blanche. he is responsible. this is…all your fault after all. your worst fears are coming true right in front of you, and suguru cannot get here fast enough to stop it. 

“i…i don’t know! i didn’t do it!” you put your hand over your other ear, trying to ball up and make this all go away. 

“wrong answerrrr. you’ll find out soon that i’m not bluffing, sugar. let’s try again. why was toji fushiguro butchered?”

how does he know? toji must have told people. that’s the only logical explanation—you know that you haven’t spoken of it to a soul. this man knew, and killed him for it? was he related to toji’s wife, here for revenge? where did kento fit into this—is it really all about you?

you can hardly hear yourself respond over your heartbeat echoing in your ears, pumping your blood in a rush. “i..i dunno!! because i slept with him!?” 

“ding ding ding! i knew you were a smart girl. but you do know that makes you a little slut, right? do you know that means you killed him, sugar!” he hisses the last part, as if personally hurt by the notion. 

“i..it was wrong–yes–but i..i–” you try to explain, but realize the stranger has no reason to allow it. he’s here to punish you, and you have to either accept this lying down, or try to put up some kind of fight. 

“is that two wrong answers? you’ll sentence your best friends to death over your pride, slut? how disappointing.” 

“no, no–i am!” you clench your eyes shut, finding it easy to beg for their lives. if this caller was to be believed, then you already knew he wasn’t bluffing. 

“you’re what? hmmm y/n?” his voice gets louder, like he’s closer to the device. 

“i’m a…slut!” your cheeks burn, you shift uncomfortably on the couch as you wait for the stranger to reply. “please sir.” 

“last question–speed round. what door am i at? your front door…or your porch?” 

thoughts stop and instinct takes over, causing you to drop the phone and run to your porch–a sliding glass door with flimsy locks. you turn on all the lights, hoping to ward off whatever evil lurked in the night hunting you. you click all the locks in place, sprinting now towards your front door, which stood open already. 

“no..” you say aloud, voice a broken whisper of realization. he was already in your house. maybe he had been the whole time, you don’t know anything anymore. all you can think about was suguru’s arrival—hoping you could last for a few minutes longer. you spin around, deciding to venture back the way you came. it was already cleared, he couldn’t have slipped behind—a gloved hand covers your mouth—leather thick enough to smother, and you throw your elbow back as hard as you can, stunning the captor into letting your face go. with a hurried gasp, you’re sprinting for your life. you run to your porch door, grappling with the lock that you just secured. you keep looking over your shoulder, waiting for the figure to reemerge, shaking the lock with all your might. you hear the footsteps, looking over your shoulder to see a tall monstrosity—cloaked in ghostface’s attire. you scream out and throw the door open. shutting it on him before he had the chance to grab you again. 

your heart is racing and you aren’t sure where to go next, attempting to clear your fence to get to the main yard of your house, maybe you could get to suguru first. the killer is faster though, both in mind and in body. he grabs your ankle before you can get all the way over, yanking you back to his domain. you scream for help, but there’s no one around to hear you. 

“my boyfriend—he’s scary, please mister!” you fight, kicking and thrashing to get all the openings to escape that you could. “let me go!” you throw your legs, connecting with his stomach. he reflexively clutched it in pain, giving you a window to scramble back to your feet and back into your house through the porch door you escaped from. locking it would be a waste, you just start throwing down whatever you could get your hands on to make an obstacle course for the masked man. you assume the cheap costume doesn’t have the best visibility, and you hope to use that to your advantage. 

you sprint for the front door, hearing the grunting and frustrated groans of the man chasing you. you blink through your panicked tears, grasping at straws for what to do next. it’s then that you hear the gravel of your driveway crunch under what could only be tires—and who could only be suguru. you shove your couch in between you and the killer, flailing yourself down your front steps and into the yard, sobbing and out of breath, scrapes and scratches showing the evidence of the chase. 

suguru is out of his car in an instant, by your side even quicker. he seems to put two and two together at the sight of you, running into the house just in time to see the ghostface impersonator sneak out of your living room window, fading into the distance. you can’t let suguru go very far, terrified beyond measure as you glue to his side and cry into his shirt once he assures you the scary man is gone. 

he holds your face, trying to soothe you the best way he knows how. “shh, shh, let’s call the sheriff, alright? this has to be reported.” he insists, holding you to his chest as he picks up your phone to call the police to your home, your kitchen and living room a mess of the night that would undoubtedly scar you for life. you nod, burying your face in his comforting scent. “just tell them what happened, and make sure you tell them everything.” he encourages, petting your hair as you wait for them to arrive.

your heart sinks at the prospect of revealing your secrets to the police. surely they don’t need to know every word exchanged on the phone. you can communicate the gist. you rehearse in your head what to say—but nothing prepared you for sheriff zen’in putting suguru in cuffs and shoving him in the back of a squad car. 

you protest, proclaiming his innocence–but the sheriff says if he’s truly done nothing wrong, then he can answer a few of their questions down at the station. you ride in a car too, like a passenger instead of a prisoner, to report what happened in detail that night. you can hardly get through an account of it—too nervous about suguru’s interview. he didn’t even wait for a lawyer, and had already used his phone call. deputy choso finally lets you go once it’s apparent you’re too shaken up to give them anymore than your scrambled memory, about being home and talking to suguru and then a very…summarized version of your call with the killer—and of course your run from him. 

you’re relieved when a just-rolled-out-of-bed satoru throws the station doors open, face stern as he scans for you. his features soften when they land on yours, and he’s pulling you into his arms before you’ve even really processed that he’s here. suguru must have used his call on him, to make sure you were taken care of in the event they want to hold him overnight—you’re touched. 

“y/n, what happened?! suguru said—a ghostface broke into your house?? are you alright, are you hurt—what are they talking to him for?” he asks, cradling your head on his chest after gawking at your bandaged ankle. you shake your head on him, just wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“i dunno, the guy chased me, satoru—i thought i was going to die!! suguru got there just in time, he saved me, and they’re treating him like he’s a criminal! get him out of there—call your dad or something this is bullshit!” you heave, panicky breaths shaking out over his shirt. 

he rubs your back, finding suguru’s eyes through the blinds over sheriff zen’in’s window. he takes a steadying breath, clearly trying to set an example for you to follow. “it’s gonna be okay, c’mon, you believe in your ole pal satoru, right?” he leans back, hands on your shoulders to give you a reassuring look. his nod gives you the faith to do the same, leaning back into his chest for that feeling of safety that seems so fleeting these days. 

satoru goes back and forth with the deputy about holding suguru overnight, threatening the mayor’s intervention. but deputy choso calls his bluff, rolling his eyes in clear aggravation. 

“even the mayor’s asleep right now, kid. unless daddy’ll come running at three a.m, geto’s spending the night.” 

“we have classes tomorrow you dipshit. y/n was literally expecting him—what can you even be holding him on?” satoru bucks, arching his brow. it’s rare that he gets serious, but when he does he comes correctly. 

“reasonable suspicion.” choso shrugs, leaning back in his desk chair. “doesn’t suguru know how to clone phone numbers? i seem to remember some trouble the two of you got in for prank calling.” 

“in eighth grade?” gojo scoffs, grabbing your hand roughly. you know it’s just because he’s wound up about the situation at hand. first your attack, then they cage suguru up like an animal, and now he’s dealing with dumbass deputy dewey. “prank calling to psycho murderer, huh? i suppose that is the only logical fuckin step!” he shakes his head in disbelief, dragging you from the station. “let’s go, sugar. time to get you back to bed—”

ice floods your veins. “what did you just call me?” you pull back out of his grip, looking at him with wide eyes. satoru’s face falters as he searches over yours, paused mid-speech. 

“what, sugar? i’ve called you that for years, y/n!” he rolls his eyes, sighing. “so paranoid, goodness. c’mon.” he pats your lower back, urging you into a steady stride alongside him. “let’s go to my place. wouldn’t want there to be a second strike or anything.” 

you still stare at him with that quiet unease, brain racing through your conversation with ghostface. “h-he called me that, too.” you mutter, stumbling over your own feet every few steps. satoru slips his arm around your waist to keep you close and to keep you from falling. 

“well, i didn’t exactly coin the nickname, i must admit.” he forcibly chuckled. “babe, please.” he rolls his eyes at your steady disbelief. “if i wanted to kill ya, do you not think i could pretty easily? i mean, my dad’s the mayor and you have no family. clearly, i only have your best interest at heart, y/n.” he raises his brow, and as blunt as his statement may be, it is effective. satoru’s strong enough to crush you in one hand, if he wanted to. plus they’d be the only ones that missed you if you were gone.  “i’ll…try not to call you that anymore.” he adds on the end, squeezing your hip in an effort to give you some peace of mind. 

you nod softly, processing. he’s always been sort of crude and a little brutal in his manner of speaking, always followed up by triumphant giggles at his own jokes. it’s his way of protecting you, of playing good cop and bad cop all at once, and over time you’ve gotten used to his bluntness. he was right anyhow, you shouldn’t doubt the only protection you have in times like these. plus, his offer of safety was too good to pass up. 

so you let gojo bring you to his huge estate, not affiliated with the mayor’s property downtown, no, this was just for satoru alone. it was expansive but still held onto that homestyle feeling. his bedroom was cozy, warm and safe like his arms around you, protecting you through the last few hours of the night.

news of your attack had spread like a forest fire around campus by the following morning. of course everyone’s in your face, all swarming around you in hopes they could get any bits of information—did the ghostface mention nanami? how did you escape? why was suguru still at the station if he rescued you? 

luckily satoru is there to serve as the buffer between you and the crowd, your other friends close in quickly as well, shoving and cussing until the path cleared and the rules to leave you be were instilled. you weren’t even sure how you were up and walking right now. you were exhausted between the chase and your collective two hours of sleep. your worry was weighing you down, the haunting anxiety of being attacked again, of causing more of your friends to be killed due to your wrong answers, of getting suguru into serious trouble just because this town wanted someone to blame for this. you felt like you’ve had too many iced coffees, body wired and fidgeting as you try to avoid all the lingering stares by making your way to the bathroom to hide for a bit—just long enough to let everyone settle into classes, so you can peacefully get to yours. 

you hear a couple of girls chit-chatting between the stalls, a voice you recognize saying your name followed by a near audible eye-roll. you quickly tuck yourself into a stall so they don’t see you when they come out, heart racing now that you seem to be the topic of conversation. 

“i bet she’s making it all up. i mean—a ghostface costume? really? that movie came out thirteen years ago! i mean if we’re getting in the halloween spirit, why not jigsaw?” she snickers, the metal door to the stall clanging open to signify that they’ve left—the water running at the sinks. 

“mei mei! that’s awful, why do you hate her so much?” the other girl teases, grabbing some paper towels. you bite your lip in wait, insulted beyond belief that she could think you were that big of an attention whore. 

“because gojo and geto follow that girl around like she has some kind of…spell on them! i wouldn’t be surprised if she killed dr. fushiguro. she was in his class last year—and he seemed to pick on her a lot. maybe he was some…witchy sacrifice to make the two hottest guys at this school fall in love with her! nanami was this years!” she reveals as if she’s solved the crimes herself, simply from being so self-aware. 

“that’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said, skank!” her friend dismisses with laughter, their voices fading as the bathroom door squeals shut, telling you they’ve left for good. you lean against the door of your stall for a moment, raking your hands over your face to cope with the cold sweat coating your skin and the disbelief gripping your heart. you fidget with the lock, stumbling out to the sinks for something to bring you back to life. you turn the faucet on, thinking some cold water would do the trick. it helps you perk up a bit even when it just hits your hands. before you can cup any and splash your face, a chill creeps up your spine—you’re being watched. 

you bend over, looking under the doors of each stall to make sure there weren’t any feet lurking behind the doors waiting to attack you. you don’t see anything, puffing out your cheeks as you exhale and right your posture. you make eye contact with yourself in the mirror. you have to snap out of this, you tell yourself, raking your hands over your face, tugging at your eyes and rubbing your cheeks in an effort to remind yourself of reality. 

“y/nnnn.” the distorted voice echoes in your mind, making you gasp and spin around to look at the stalls, look all over the bathroom, nearly flattening your chest to the floor to look under the stalls again. again, nothing. your brain is playing tricks on you. you’ve officially lost it. what was the likelihood of being attacked in your campus bathroom anyway—especially since he started at your house? you take a deep breath and gather your backpack up, hearing the clanking metal sound of one of the stall locks. “don’t ignore me, y/n.” 

you squat down, there had to be someone there this time. you knew paranoia could only go so far, that voice sending your heart into a fearful spiral. 

boots descend from the toilet, planting firmly on the ground. you start to breathe heavily, a jagged black cloak lowered to tell you that you were indeed being targeted by a ghostface impersonator, and you scream. he lunges out of the stall—a huge hunting knife clasped in both hands over his head as you duck, limboing under his attack and making for the door. 

“help me!!” you scream frantically, voice so shrill it hurts your throat. you feel the heat of his body against your back, so you fling your head backwards into his chest—surprising him enough to falter. you fling the door open, making that connect too, scrambling for any extra time and space you could get. your vision is blurred by the nervous tears that spring automatically, searching for an exit or someone to help. you see a few guys standing together at the end of the hall—one of which has stark white hair that you could recognize from worlds away. “satoru!! he’s here, help!!” 

the frantic desperation in your voice grabs all of their attention, satoru and naoya zen’in—grandson of the sheriff–sprint closer to figure out what’s going on. they see the masked man stalking after you, but you can only keep running for your life. your legs nearly give out as you make it to satoru, collapsing in his arms. his eyes are wide as he pushes you back behind him, turning to deal with the intruder—but the zen’in beats him to it. he tackles the figure, managing to wrestle the knife away even before the ghostface rolled them to win the struggle, punching naoya hard enough that his head bounced off the floor. you gasp–shoving satoru forward. 

“help him!!” you panic, not able to stomach the thought of someone else dying over you. satoru barrels forward and roughly pulls the ghostface off, turning to naoya to ensure he was still alive while the masked figure tumbles to the ground with a grunt. you’re paralyzed with terror as one of the other boys, a freshman named ijichi, checks on you, grabbing your attention with his shaky voice.

“y/n, are you alright? goodness.” he pats your shoulder, and you nod–turning back to the commotion. you catch the sight of the cloak slipping down the stairs, screaming out for gojo to warn him. he quickly moves to follow—but finds no trace of the man. he turns back to you with a shake of his head. he was gone. 

satoru moves to pull you to your feet, holding you securely to his chest as yaga and a host of other teachers bustle through the hallways looking frantic. 

“he came to this school. that is it!” yaga shakes his head, surveying your crying and terrified form. “classes are canceled until further notice!” he declares, instructing for the cops to be called immediately–and to bring a paramedic for the student injured in your defense. you feel so guilty when you look over at the zen’in boy holding his eye, wincing. he had no business with you and didn’t have to get involved at all, but he likely saved your life!

you sniffle, gently pushing yourself off of gojo with a weak smile. you give him a grateful look, nodding to him in a way that communicated your need to accomplish something. “i’m okay.” 

he nods a little, letting his hand fall off of your elbow. he watches you slouch over to naoya as he shoves himself into a seated position. you crouch to his level, giving him a gentle but still anxious smile. 

“hey..does it hurt pretty bad?” you ask, sympathetically frowning at the shiner. he scoffs a little at your question. you sure are lucky you’re stunning–and that he has a reputation to uphold. 

“yeah? it’s a massive bruise. i’ll live though.” he shrugs, brushing his hair out of the way. 

“well…thank you. for doing that, you could have been hurt worse.” you nod, standing. you reach your hand out to help him to his feet. he smiles, and takes your hold despite his usual pride, he’s able to capitalize on some arrogance. 

“i had it under control, don’t worry about it. what kind of man would i be if i didn’t step in?” he smirks, and the little look makes you blush. maybe you had a soft spot for the zen’in families good looks. 

“i see, well. thank you anyway.” you hum, turning back to satoru. “i guess we’re free to go home, huh? classes are canceled…” you scratch at the back of your neck anxiously, hoping satoru would let you attach like a little lost puppy in order to stay within the realms of safety. 

he rubs at your shoulders, wiggling his brows a little. “mhm, way to go, princess. you got us outta school!” he cheers, throwing his arm around your shoulders. “i say, party at my house!! everyone’s invited!” he yells out into the emptying hallway, the announcement of canceled classes causing the majority of your peers to spill into the schoolyard, escaping before the headmaster changes his mind. 

the idea of a party right now made you nauseous. anyone of these people could be the ghostface poser or his next victim. you wish you could just hole up in your house,  but being alone was hardly an option for you right now. satoru keeps a hand on your back to guide you out of the civics hall, assuring you that a party is exactly what you need to get your mind off of things. 

“there’s no way i’d leave your side anyway! plus the girls are gonna be there, and—look who the cat dragged in!” his long finger turns your head in the direction he was looking, and your eyes widen at the sight of suguru waiting against the group’s usual tree. relief floods your system. at least suguru was free, clearly they couldn’t pin this on him like they wanted. 

he strolls over to fall in line on your other side, giving you a sly smile. “hey angel. shoko told me what went down, and i am now on your side. that sheriff doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing.” he sighs out as he loops his arm around your shoulders. you give him a proper hug, letting him pick you up slightly to keep walking to satrou’s place. it was a normal happenstance, the two of them loved passing you between them like a toy football they tossed back and forth, this time it was suguru who lifts you from the ground. you wrap your legs around his thighs with a giggle—feeling a bit of lighthearted fun spring to your heart. 

“oh don’t tell me you didn’t get the honeymoon suite.” satoru mocks, reaching for your upper half to pull you into his hold, to which you and suguru insist in passing you over. it’s all part of the games they like to play with you. 

you roll your eyes. “we tried to get you out, well—sato did. that deputy was a big ole meanie about it.” you huff, being carried like a baby in gojo’s arms. he nods, pouting down at you. 

“totally. was gonna get dad on it and everything! but hey—this party will be epic, the girls are getting some snacks, we’re on beer duty!” he cheers happily, gently tossing you up into the air. you freely giggle, falling back into his protective hold. he passes you to suguru, who slings you over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. you playfully kick and giggle and that sweet sound prompts satoru into comment. “she’s always so happy with us, huh sugu?” 

he pats above your back, nodding. “of course. you’re our girl, right?” he hums, giving satoru a knowing smirk. you squeal a little and nod. 

“mhm, i just feel so…safe with you two!” you sigh, relaxing across his shoulder. he finally lowers you to your own two feet once it’s time to walk into the general store with that one boozy cashier that would let geto have whatever he wanted from that store—including his weight in beer probably two times the legal purchase amount. you stroll around the aisles with them, satoru urging you to pick your own snacks over whatever gross shit iori and ieiri brought over. 

for once, all seems to be well. you settle into a couch at satoru’s place, letting the boys fight over where they sat, deciding they’d just let you lay across them both. so your new couch becomes satoru and suguru, but they’re just as comfortable. shoko and utahime laugh at the sight when they come in, a few more stragglers that heard satoru’s invite making their way in for the free booze. 

shoko of course came with her bag stuffed with horror classic dvds, starting with the obvious scream given her recent comments, and you roll your eyes and groan at the selection. suguru pets your hair back at your reaction, chuckling down at you. 

“what, not a horror fan?” he raises a brow, the idea making gojo titter. 

“probably not enough lady killers for our princess’ liking.” he elbows geto playfully, squeezing your thigh with his other hand. “or too many bimbos. which is it?” he asks expectantly, blowing some hair out his eyes. 

you shrug. “what does sidney say, something about how insulting it is that all the girls are so dumb? always running upstairs when they should be going out a door on ground level. it’s annoying. and yeah—more girl killers!” you giggle back, finally settling into a decent spirit now that you knew you were safe with your friends. 

“totally!! carrie’s like all we have!” utahime complains from the floor. 

“well—all the victims have been dudes so far. maybe we have a lady ghostface out there.” satoru raises his beer to clink it with utahime’s. she’s already tipsy enough to toast gojo, so you know this night will be eventful, though you can’t help your unease at his statement. you felt like it was important to only pass around the proper information in regards to something like this, even though satoru’s only joking innocently. 

“it’s not a woman. he’s too tall.” you mumble, reminding your friends in the room that you’ve suffered at the hands of this killer not once, but twice. your friends shift around awkwardly at the realization that they’ve gone a little too far. 

satoru pats your thigh. “hey, y/n—” you assume he was going to apologize, but he’s cut off by the phone. your heart plunges. no, this can’t be happening. not here, not in the safety of satoru’s home–with all of your friends gathered around. your gasp makes a few heads turn to you, and satoru’s face falls at your jumpiness. “hey, it’s alright. probably just my folks. don’t worry. shoko—answer it?” 

she nods, though you can tell she’s a little nervous too. she puts the phone to her ear and hums–seemingly recognizing the voice on the other end. the room all takes a collective breath of relief, but that doesn’t last very long. shoko clamps her hand over her mouth as she gasps, turning to you all to repeat what she was just told. 

“it’s the sheriff’s grandson—naoya. they found him strung up the flagpole—gutted like nanami!” she whisper yells, sparking the intrigue of most of the mildly intoxicated young adults in the room. she nods a few more times with whoever’s on the other line, shaking her head at the grotesque crime until they hang up. 

“well—what are we waiting for, let’s go check it out before they pull him down!” some freshman suggests, getting whoops and hollers from the other nameless faces as the pile out of the room, shoko leading the charge. you’re gripped with fear. this is the last straw. there’s no room to deny it anymore. the only common thread is you. when would this man get gojo? get geto? get ieiri and iori—you? would you have to watch all your friends die in front of you before he finally got you? naoya was not a nice guy, he had wronged plenty of people and was toji’s cousin—but he had saved you that day. and been punished for it.

“i need to go lie down.” you declare, sitting up on the only two men you could trust these days—which only made you fear for their safety that much more. suguru looks up at you wistfully, seeming to understand. gojo pouts, but nods his head towards his room. 

“we’ll know where to find ya, sweet cheeks.” he assured, helping you slide off of their laps. you smile and nod at him gratefully, breaking out in that nervous cold sweat you were prone to as you creep up the steps towards satoru’s room. your heart thunders in your chest, so loud in your own ears you think it may be audible to everyone else. suguru ‘awwws’ as you walk off and utahime blows you a kiss, stretched out in the recliner. she’s invested in the movie—totally into billy loomis, naturally. 

you wish you could be so naive to spend your night crushing on the killer in an old horror film, but your mind is too preoccupied with the one you’re living. some comfort soothes at your heart as you enter satoru’s large personal space. it smells of his soothing sweet scent, and you melt right into his bed, looking up at the rotations of the ceiling fan. you aren’t sure how long you stare up at it, wondering what entertainment your classmates were getting out of seeing naoya’s dead body. it makes you shudder to think about it, you wish that this was some sort of nightmare. at least those weren’t real. but that can’t be, because you feel yourself fall into some kind of satoru’s scent-induced slumber. 

“you know, it is pretty spooky how similar these past few deaths have been to the movie.” utahime scrunches her nose as she looks around the remaining friends. gojo nods, lips turned down in a pondering frown. 

“yeah–like the disembowelment? totally creepy. awww i’m all out of beer. utahimeeeee?” he coos, shaking his bottle at her. she jiggles hers and rolls her eyes at the emptiness. she shoves out of her comfy spot on the recliner. 

“you’re lucky mine’s empty, you bastard.” she chuckles, shaking her head and making her way out to the garage. 

“let suguru beer-sit for me when you get back, i’m gonna go check on the princess!” he yells after her, using his own thighs to propel himself into a stand. he turns to suguru, brows raised. “she’s been so skittish lately. i’ll be right back.” 

suguru takes a swallow of his room-temp beer, making a face at the taste. he finds himself alone with the movie, no choice but to watch the corny film that the current killings seem styled after—at least in costuming. he sighs. 

some time must have passed by the time you blink awake. you think it’s the trees rustling in the october wind that rips you out of your brief reprieve, or maybe it’s the uncomfortable silence and stillness to gojo’s house. either way, you’re yawning—stretching out on your stomach as you remember what caused you to isolate yourself from the rest of the party in the first place. you close your eyes as if that will stop the thoughts in their tracks, but it’s no use. 

the scraping up the trellis outside of satoru’s room does plenty to wipe your mind, followed by what could only be the sound of the window being opened from the outside. you push yourself up, ready to flee the bed, but his voice stops you as if he had puppeteer strings controlling your limbs. the distortion is familiar, just like it was on the phone that day. 

“don’t move you little bitch, i’ll slice you to ribbons!” he cheers, boots scuffing against the floor. you’re holding your breath, still laying on your stomach, head faced away from the killer. 

“wh–what do you want from me?” you gulp, clenching your jaw as his weight sinks into the bed. your hands grip satoru’s pillow as the ghostface touches your back, hand resting in between your shoulder blades. he trails one finger along your spine, stopping at the curve of your ass. 

“ya mean you haven’t figured it out?” he slides his hand under your skirt, curling his finger in the waistline of your panties, pulling them out and letting them snap back against your skin. “i want that pretty pussy in exchange for another day on this spinning rock!” 

you shiver, fear creeping up your veins. you feel something sharper than a finger against your back—unmistakably the point of his hunting knife. your body straightens and you gasp, his gloved hand palming at your ass. while the blade keeps you in place. 

“p-please, mr. ghostface, i–i dunno what this is all about!” you breathe heavily, feeling a tingling warmth bubble in your abdomen at his touch—fear had to be crossing the wires in your brain. he uses one hand to shove up your skirt, slapping the skin, the leather covering his hand only intensifying the feeling. you squeeze your eyes shut at the pleasurable sensation–shaking your head in surprise with yourself. 

“i just told ya, sugar. open up those ears and those legs. you’re gonna let me fuck you dumb if you ever wanna see outside this room again, be the good little slut i know you can be.” he pops your ass again, causing you to make a strangled sound of enjoyment. your cheeks burn, you can’t be enjoying this, the stranger that’s been terrorizing your life for the past few months—even possibly the man that killed your lover a year ago—should be the last person on the planet that causes your pussy to clamp around nothing. 

you obey, spreading your legs wide enough for him to shift between. he repositions himself there on his knees, hooking his arm around to press the long blade across your delicate neck as he pulls your hips up slightly. you gasp at the sharp weapon pressed to your jugular, careful not to move or you’d slit your own throat. he giggles, using his free hand to leave the outline of his hand on your ass. your heart thrashes, blood pumping in your ears as a disgusting need burns viciously in your gut. 

“that’s a good start, see. you can do it.” he kneads your ass approvingly, big hands gripping the skin so tenderly you whine out, biting your lip immediately after. his laugh is taunting, and makes the anticipation shoot up like sparklers. you’re ashamed. this is a dangerous and scary murderer, and he’s in here fucking you, you can’t deny that it makes you feel a little special—as he’s only targeting males. “ohhh you’re an even bigger skank than i thought, wow. you like it!” he licks his teeth audibly, hooking a finger around the crotch of your panties, yanking off the soiled fabric. he delights in damp juices covering his fingers as he tucks the soiled undies in the back pocket of his jeans beneath the robe. “you’ll fuck anyone won’t ya?” 

you move to shake your head, feeling blade bite into the flesh beneath. you open your mouth in your defense, silenced by the feeling of his bare fingers playing around in the mess holding you at knifepoint has created. “no! that’s not true!” 

he slaps your ass, sighing. “yeah? why’d you give this pretty little cunt to your married professor then? eager? desperate? did he make ya feel special?” he inquires, making your pussy grip again. the possessive lengths this murderer went through clearly spoke to your pussy if not your heart or your brain. you feel the man move around, freeing his cock if you had to guess. you ask yourself why you did fuck toji, and you decide to tell the truth. with the way things were going, he’d know if you were lying anyway. 

“because i was horny and he was hot and there—and i…i guess i did feel special, he picked me.” you reply, earning a growl in return. the smack on your ass has you screaming this time, the force of it causing you to brush up against the knife a little, feeling the first layer of skin give way. 

“wrong answer.” he gruffs, not as jovial sounding as before. you know what comes next. you briefly wonder what he’ll feel like, how curved or thick he’d be, and if he’d actually let you live after he’s done. he answers most of your questions rather quickly, feeling like lightning had struck you and split you open—you realize he’s shoved himself all the way in while you’re still laying on your stomach. you sputter out gargled sounds from suddenly being so full, balling up your fists in satoru’s pillow. maybe it was his scent wafting in your nose that made you horny instead of the masked man plowing your insides, holding your ass cheek apart with one hand in order to reach top speed. “little slut likes getting ruined by a psycho, huh? maybe i will keep you around after all, gripping my cock like you love it.” he giggles, laying all his body weight into the thrusts. 

you’re mewling, gripping satoru’s pillow like it was the only thing tethering you to this earth. the ghostface was hitting every spot so rapidly and with so much force that you’re seeing stars. it takes everything in you not to slump forward—only the threat of imminent death keeping you awake enough. 

“you keep grippin it, lil slut. dont wanna let me go?” he chuckles at the way you keep lifting up to escape the blade. “cute slut though!! and a good one. gonna give you my load for being so obedient—i guess you didn’t have much choice though!” he laughs and pulls the knife from your neck, sickening slaps of his hips into your ass sound out across the room, growing slower in pace until he stills altogether, seed flooding your insides–his tip pressing it directly to your womb. his breaths are slightly ragged as he presses your ass back together, trapping his cum tight as he pulls out of you, humming at the sight of his slimy seed sliding out of your hole and pearling up on your pretty thighs. you heard his zipper at the same time you heard a knock at the door, a voice you recognize all too well kicking the panic up again. 

“y/n? i heard screaming, are you okay?” suguru asks, jiggling the handle. “everyone’s gone and i just want to make sure you’re alright. i’m coming in.” 

you shake your head, turning to scream out a warning, but the ghostface clamps a hand over your mouth. suguru pushes the door open— furrowing his brows at the sight, immediately rushing forward to intervene. he grunts his displeasure, snatching your hand to yank you away from the figure. 

“run y/n!” he commands, trying to shove the man away from you. you slide off the bed frantically, trying to get geto to run away with you as he and the ghostface struggle for dominance over the knife. he turns his head to look at you still standing in the room. “go, now!” he calls out, the sound of the blade making contact with his skin making the color drain from your face. his eyes widen as he looks down at the knife in his chest—while the masked murderer cackles wildly before he grabs the wooden handle. geto looks back up at you, eyes growing more and more lidded.

“yet another friend you’ve killed, little skank!” he cheers, yanking the knife out with a harrowing schlick before embedding it in him again for good measure—his form falling to the ground. the sound of geto’s body collapsing was enough to send you scrambling down the stairs in search of the only other person who could help you get away. your legs move faster than you’ve ever seen them go before, taking two steps at a time as you bound for the door. 

you hear the stomps of ghostface’s boots coming after you. you shudder out your cries of anguish, trying to figure out a way to put some space between you and him—not wanting to put any merit in his promise to keep you alive. you jump over the couch, slinging the tv down and once again throwing any and all obstacles in your path. it seemed to work well enough the first time you tried it, and based off of his hiss and a subsequent thump, you know you tripped him up a little bit. you sprint towards the garage, flipping on the light and pressing the switch to raise the door—screaming in horror at what the lights reveal. 

iori utahime was nearly unrecognizable, her head smashed in the refrigerator with a broken beer bottle sticking out of her chest. hot tears spring out of your eyes instantly—muttering your apologies as you dip under the opening the garage door gives you, full sprinting like your life depends on it. you’ve made it to an open field—somewhere you once felt safe now making you feel like a deer waiting to be pounced on. you keep your head on a swivel, trying to locate the black mass in the night—but it was virtually impossible. 

when he comes out of your peripheral—running at you from your right side, you see him in enough time to slide under his attempt to bear hug you, turning an about face towards the house. maybe you could make it back there, make it back to geto’s body—if you could just lock the doors and windows, you should be home free. satoru was still around–luckily you didn’t find his body. you struggle to get oxygen into your system through the chilly night air—feeling it squeeze at your lungs as you desperately fight to get back to some idea of safety, running in bursts and patterns to keep the masked man guessing and confused through the tiny holes in the mask. tears still sting at your eyes as you throw yourself up the steps, making it to the door which you deadbolt instantly. you sweep the house, making sure the other doors were locked before coming back to the front—hearing the beating of the ghostface rap against the door. 

“don’t lock me out sugar! we had such a good time!” he appeals, using the weighty knife handle to beat on the door some more. you grip the sides of your hair, out of breath and full blown panicking. if satoru wasn’t in the house, then you’ve locked him out, and who knows if suguru was clinging to life upstairs. noise behind you makes you wheel around to confront it—terrified that the ghostface snuck in through a window like he had earlier. 

instead, a heavily injured and bloody suguru limps out of gojo’s room, gasping out your name as he tumbles down the stairs, falling all the way to your feet. you cry out and crouch to him, face contorted up with concern and horror. he motions to stand, asking you to help him do so. 

“suguru! he’s outside–oh my god, are we going to die? where’s satoru? i need him to be safe too! we have to call the police—” you prattle on, doing your best to help lift his weight. he groans in pain, helping you to the best of his ability as you get him propped up against the wall. he keeps you from pulling away, holding your hand in both of his. 

“we’re going to be alright, angel. i’ll call the cops.” he assured, stumbling forward—toward the door. he nods to help you calm down, a bloody hand cupping your face to have you look him in his gentle eyes. “i’m going to get us out of here.” 

“don’t!! he’s gonna break it down or something—stand back, suguru! i’m scared!” you warn him as he looks out the peephole, shaking your head frantically. 

“you should be.” he says, leaning against the front door, giving you a cunning smile. gentle brown eyes shift into something much more sinister—though the lust that always swims in them remains. his words rock you off kilter—you’re sure you must be so paranoid that you’re making things up now. 

“wh-what?” you shake your head, furrowing your brows a bit as he lifts a bloody finger to his mouth, sucking the red digit clean with repeated swirls of his thick tongue—and making you step backward as the shock wears off. he was involved. you don’t understand how or why—but your best friend suguru geto was involved. 

“shame you don’t like horror movies, y/n. maybe if you had seen scream, you’d have known what to expect. high fructose corn syrup—just like in carrie.” he hums, trailing his tongue along his hand. you shake your head, steadily backing away from him. he wasn’t hurt at all—just theatrics to get you right where he wanted you. which means satoru—

“n-no…this is impossible. you…you came to my house!” you argue, trying to find a way for it to not be true. you back straight into another hard chest—and the figure dangles your panties over your face. your veins are frozen as you turn slowly—faced with the missing satoru. he’s beaming, wiggling the fabric in his hands. 

“surprise! look what we did for you, princess!” he cheers, stepping forward to make you back up—pushing you back into suguru with every calculated step. you blink rapidly, processing all that’s before your eyes. satoru and suguru? they were working as a team this whole time? a murderous, manipulative team?

“for me? what on earth are you talking about??” you shake your head incredulously, wondering how they’ve cloaked their insanity this whole time. “i–i never wanted this!” you begin to sniffle, the tears of realization starting the burn your eyes. 

“no? you know how we feel about boys around our princess.” satoru hummed, shaking his head. 

“after all of our years of devotion to you,” suguru shakes his head, stepping in front of you as well, leaning down to capture your vision. you avoid his eyes, too busy dealing with your racing thoughts. “you reward us by giving your virginity to a married man. what were we supposed to do about that angel?” 

“how–how did you find out–”

“you’re so loud in his office, pretty girl. we know what you sound like all too well—and you had been missing a lot that semester…we put two and two and two together!” he says shrilly, devoid of the costume though the large hunting knife was still in hand. 

“i…i didn’t ever get any attention from boys!!” you start to cry, the full weight of their words taking hold on you. everything was your fault after all, those haunting feelings were all true—and your best friends were the ones behind the whole scheme. 

“why would you need any other attention?? are we not more than enough?” he snarls, deeply wounded that you gave your body away after he’s spent so much of his time catering to it. 

you sniffle, recoiling away at his tone. geto was always so gentle and calm, but it seems like he’s finally snapped. you never thought they had any romantic intent with all their safe-guards, assuming they viewed you more like a tiny kitten that needed their protection. but it all makes sense now, their abnormal need to spend their time with you, the cuddling, the touching, even the carrying game—you were sure now that it was all about their feelings for you. geto grabs your face in one broad hand, jerking your chin up to look at him. 

“you’ll look at me when i’m speaking to you. answer. are we not enough?” he demands, clenching his jaw so tight that you can see the muscles twitch. 

“yes! you’re enough—i just didn’t think it was like that, boys–i didn’t think you both liked me, i–i just thought you were being nice–” 

“well. there’s no more of that, slut. if we didn’t kill the other two, who knows what you would have let them do.” he snarls, squeezing your cheeks together to keep you from speaking further. satoru claps his hands, tugging you to the couch. 

“it’s time we make you our final girl, sugar. aren’t you so lucky? who else would love you like us?!” he asks you, pushing you into the cushions. he holds the knife to your shoulder, pouting. “don’t make me use this on you, pretty girl. just listen to us and we’ll go from a scary movie to a happily ever after.” he hums, sitting at your side so he could keep the blade steady. 

you’re reeling, brain light and heavy all at once. they did this…for you? all to show you their love and devotion? it’s too much. his words are sweet but his actions have been anything but. you shake your head. “utahime…what did she do to deserve that?” you snap, tears slipping down your cheeks, you feel bolstered with the confidence that they won’t hurt you. this elaborate scheme has all been to make you theirs, after all. 

geto laughs, shaking his head as he comes over to the couch, the boner in his pants so obvious your pussy clenches involuntarily. you’re lucky your skirt has you covered enough that neither of them saw it, for you’d never hear the end of it. geto strokes himself over his pants, giving satoru some kind of direction with the nod of his head. gojo shifts you to your knees, forcing your head forward to stare at suguru as he unbuttons his pants. 

“utahime was in the way.” suguru shrugs, letting his endowment slap up against his red corn syrup stained shirt. he peels that off next. 

gojo scoffs. “you don’t need friends anyway, you got us!” he cheered, repositioning his digits on the back of your neck. suguru pushes some hair over his shoulder, gesturing to his cock with a simple look down. 

you shake your head no, trying to fight against satoru’s hold, but he points the knife under your jaw, following the line of the bone. suguru chuckles darkly. 

“this whore will fuck anything on two legs, but when it comes time to fuck the men that earned it, you wanna be shy?” he shakes his head with disappointment, “you even slutted yourself out for someone you didn’t know. what’s the problem? if he holds the knife against your neck will it make you drip again?” 

the statement makes you gasp softly, the pang in your core causing you to whine in disbelief. why was this turning you on? there’s no way you should be giving in to such a crazy stunt. they’ve ruined your life, killed anyone close to or interested in you—and now they’re here to claim their due reward. and your pussy is absolutely leaking over it despite the alarms ringing in your head. the way that geto grabs a fistful of your hair to guide your face to his drooling slit has you opening your mouth to welcome him inside without any more protests, causing gojo to giggle at the sight.

“told ya she’d give in. we know her better than anyone, yeah?” he dances the knife along the side of your neck as your throat bulges with suguru’s thickness. your eyes roll back at the feeling of his fat tip hitting your uvula, keeping you from speaking anyway. 

“there we go. you’re pretty when you listen, y/n.” he hums, cock jumping in your mouth. you felt better than he could’ve  imagined—and nothing could recreate the mix of fear and taboo lust that you look at him with, tears dotting the corner of your vision as he guides your head in bobbing along his thick shaft. gojo just keeps your hair from falling in your face–eager to see all of you as you arch up on your knees, wiggling your pretty ass in the air. “nasty little thing. you’re just as bad as us, you know. you made us kill all these poor people—if only you listened to us and left boys alone.” suguru grunts, watching as satoru pushes your skirt up, trailing the tip of the knife over your ass cheek, careful not to slice as he peppers slaps to your other side. you whine at the feeling, pussy tightening at his teasing even though suguru filled your mouth to the brim. suguru slaps you—medium intensity, but coupled with satoru’s spanks and his dick forcing your throat apart—it had your vision darkening. you never stop sucking his cock though, and that’s what he was testing for. 

“let her ride it.” he rewards you with his approval, and satoru snickers happily. suguru’s hand falls to grip your neck, loving the sounds you make when struggling to breathe. the pain is so delicious, you can feel the morale in you dying the longer they toy with you—your need to be touched outweighing your fear–transcending it into trust. you know that they love you, in their own fucked up way, so they won’t kill you. your drowsy eyes shoot open when you feel the cool wooden handle of the hunting knife nudge against your clit. gojo holds it carefully by the blade—too skilled to let it cut him even with your uncalculated movements. suguru chuckles at your reactions, letting your hair go to see how you swallow him up on your own accord. you don’t falter, not even when the handle slides around your hole, teasing you into steady rolls of your hips to find it. gojo loved this—watching you grow so needy you’d settle for fucking yourself on the weapon that slayed your professor, your lab partner, your white knight, and your best friend. 

“look who’s a needy whore now. you wouldn’t ever be satisfied without us, angel.” suguru insists, watching the pleasure on your face as satoru finally lets you sink down on the handle. it’s wide, stretching you open with a slight burn—but it’s delicious friction strokes against your insides, and you were eager for anything to relieve the ache in your stomach, the way they used you but loved you mercilessly has you clamping, wetness sliding down the weapon. the guilt pushing back against the pleasure was slowly fading—losing. “oh, no, no. don’t let her cum.” suguru tsks, sliding his cock free of your mouth. you whine at the loss, rubbing at your sore jaw, feeling gojo’s hands find your waist again. he pulls you to lay in his lap, his own excitement pressing against the tight seam of his zipper. you’re careful to lay your head on his thigh, looking up at him and feeling a sense of relief—even as he pressed the blade to your neck. 

“you liked this earlier, right? that’s because you’re just as fucking nasty as we are, cutie.” he snickered a little, cupping your clothed tit. suguru saddles between your legs this time, pushing your knees to your chest without pause, absolutely nothing but a feral need to claim you flashing in his eyes. he pushes your shirt up just to see all of you, “i’ve waited far too long to see these tits, angel.” he grumbles, palming at them in between squeezes from satoru’s large hands. you moan at their touches—so intense yet different and identifiable. satoru hums at the little noise, tweaking your nipple as geto parts your pussy lips. he doesn’t warn you before he sheaths himself, making you take his length all at once. your eyes widen at the feeling—so wide you don’t understand how your throat accommodated him. your back arches off the couch at the sensation, you think you can feel every vein and ridge along his length as he lets you get used to it. gojo’s enamored by the face you make, brows pinched and mouth dropped open—wide eyes flickering between them. he’s dreamed of this for so long—they would do all of this as many times as it took to have you like this now, but luckily you’re obedient. satoru cups your face with his free hand, trailing his fingers along your cheekbone in a touch reminiscent of his ghostface earlier. he’s gentler than suguru despite the blade he wields. suguru’s grip on the back of your thighs will bruise, it hurts even now—but in the type of way you want to feel forever. he’s not gentle with your pussy either, pulling his full length out, tapping your clit with his head to make you mewl. the force he uses to plow back in causes satoru to move the knife from your neck, drawing circles over your bouncing fat tits instead. 

“she’s so tight, huh? think she’ll stay like that between the two of us?” gojo giggles, looking up at the pretty faces suguru himself was making. his eyes are lazily lidded, but still serpentine and focused on the sight before him. you squeeze down on his cock, and he loves that he can’t tell if it’s from fear or your returned affection. 

“so tight, despite giving it up so freely. isn’t that right–our little slut?.” suguru mutters, watching the glint of the blade as satoru swirls it around your delicate skin. your eyes widen at his question, face burning at the fact that they knew. blaming them wouldn’t get you anywhere—it seems you had to own your mistake and hope that groveling can return you to your former glory, despite how you clench around him calling you a slut. 

you nod, “i’m sorry! i didn’t know that you two love me, i’m sorry, suguru!” you lean up a bit to appeal to him, causing satoru to knick your skin with the blade. you moan at the slight burn, beads of blood bubbling to the small cut. satoru curses at himself, though the noise you make has his eyes narrowing at yours in intrigue. you liked it, just like you liked fucking at knifepoint earlier

“you’re a dirty little bitch.” satoru chuckles, looking up at an intoxicated suguru. his eyes were nearly blacked, pupils fully dilated. he leans over, running his fat tongue along the shallow wound, humming at the few drops of your blood that he got to taste. satoru arches a brow, fascinated by the reaction. it makes him want a taste for himself—but suguru’s still hungry for more. his thick hand steadies your jaw, his tongue licking a thick stripe up the side of your neck. you shiver at the feeling—all the feelings. the warmth threatening to spill over at the cock splitting you in half, the slight dizziness that came from the cut—how lewd and chill-inducing suguru’s tongue felt, the intense desire behind satoru’s groping. it was all consuming, and you were losing sight of yourself relatively easily—after all, you felt your safest with them. they’d never hurt their final girl. 

“let’s see just how dirty, satoru…” he hums, never faltering with his hips as he moves his lips to your neck, licking and sucking spots into your skin almost romantically. you’re so undone that you even move your hips, circling to try to get closer to suguru, teetering on the line. 

“oh–it feels so good, suguru..” you mumble, and satoru giggles at your blissed out face, dick throbbing in his jeans. 

“i’m sure it does, pretty slut.” satoru sings to you, his normal taunting voice was layered with the sick affection he holds you in. he watches your cut pearl up with blood again, the sight so pretty to him. he’s seen plenty of blood eradicating all the threats to your happiness, but yours seemed so much better. like you were more pure than those that he’d eliminated on your behalf. he wanted to see some more—and suguru does too. satoru makes a matching cut below the accidental one, swiping his thumb over it to collect the hot crimson. you watch him, lengthening your neck to tilt your head back—eagerly following how his tongue wrapped around the slender digit to suck the tangy taste off. 

the opening you give suguru is so delicious he can’t repress his chuckle as he picks the perfect spot between your neck and shoulder. he bites down and you can feel his canines pierce the skin deep, screaming out at the painful bliss. your red blood covers their white teeth, leaking out of their pink lips. suguru looks like a vampire instead of a masked murderer with his chin dyed burgundy, satoru’s tongue darting out to collect the remnants on his own mouth before he leaned up–grabbing suguru’s jaw so he could lap up the stain, letting your blood mingle together on each other’s tongues as they wrestle together. gojo holds the knife carefully away from suguru’s head as he puts his other hand on his face, the two clearly just as into each other as they were you—a fact that was terrifying and insanely hot at the same time. you shudder—feeling your heartbeat echo through the cuts and your bite, pussy throbbing around suguru. he breaks away from satoru—yanking him back by a fistful of his white hair. 

“our little bitch thinks it’s time for her to cum.” suguru sighs, and satoru grins down at you with a mix of blood and saliva dribbling from the corner of his mouth. satoru shakes his head. 

“but i haven’t even touched her!” he protests, pouting down at you. it makes you feel a pang of guilt in your stomach—but not because you were fucking two serial killers, no–because you hadn’t given one of them enough attention. 

“you did take her earlier—without permission.” suguru growled a bit and looks over your slightly bloodied chest and fucked out face. he knows exactly what will perk you back up and get satoru back in line. he releases his hold on his hair and slips out of your sopping folds, moving to slip the knife from satoru’s grasp while taking your chin in his other hand. he nods satoru to you. “prep her ass—i wonder if she ever let the professor in there. wait no…i’m sure he only fucked your ass.” he gently pulls on you, prompting you to get back to your hands and knees, facing him. he strokes your cheek with the back of his hand, tilting your chin up with the blade to look at him. 

the intense knowing in his eyes makes a shudder trill down your spine—and your pussy clench. how did he know that? knowing about the affair—hearing it—was one thing. but how did they know the intimate details outside of…being there. the puzzle pieces click into place and suguru can see it in the way your eyes widen. he chuckles, nodding to confirm your fears while satoru jiggles your fat ass cheeks in his hands. he’s admiring the recoil, the leaking pussy he had to spread your ass to see—it was all such a wonderful and worthy reward for him. 

“you think we’d miss a show like that? tsk tsk.” he pouts, keeping you engaged so satoru could warm you up on the other end. “professor fushiguro didn’t want any more children? how sad.” he teases slightly, running the knife over your plush lips, watching the way your skin gives in to the metal, bouncing back up as he moves it to a new spot. satoru gathers the arousal pooling down your thighs, adding his spit to the nasty mix on his fingers. you gasp softly, feeling his digits prod around your puckered entrance. “could have made a pretty little thing like you his baby mama? hm. maybe if he’d been smarter about it, his existing son wouldn’t be fatherless. though that’s on you too—”

you whimper, shaking your head. “n–no, don’t say that!” you protest, feeling the humanity in you lash out at the statement. 

“why? hard truth? don’t worry princess—we’ll give you plenty of kids. you won’t be left wanting, poor thing.” satoru pouts with you, giving you the first finger down to the knuckle. you squeeze around it, any combativeness dying right back down as the brain fog returns. he’s slowly thrusting it, letting you rock your hips back for more, the unrelenting need in your gut yet to be satisfied under geto’s punishments. 

“and your kids will have two fathers just to keep you extra safe. can’t you see? we’re the only ones who can protect you and make you happy.” geto implores, stroking your cheeks and watching your reaction to satoru’s second finger, tucking his lip between his teeth. 

“oh she already knows that, sugu. c’mon sugar. tell him.” he encourages, defending you in his own way. he scissors his fingers in your ass, giggling at the wet squelch that accompanies his movements. “you’ll be so happy–just tell him, princess.” he appeals, your brain mushy with the feeling of their hands on you and their promises swimming around your brain. they have protected you from so much over the years, between your average bullies and boys that truly crossed the line back in high school—you know that in their own deluded way, they’re right. 

“you guys are the only ones that make me happy!! i feel so safe here–i know you won’t hurt me.” you whine, nodding. it appeals to both of their hearts–the sultry call of your voice had them eager to fill all your holes. 

“oh we’ll hurt you, slutty princess.” satoru hums, sliding his fingers out of your choking ass. he repositions you, hands fitting into the handles of your waist to right you in his lap, angling his proud length at your hole. “see, this will hurt a bunch! but you’ll love it.” he assures, pulling you down on him a few inches at a time. you scream out, looking up at geto for rescue. he only steps in front of you–fisting his own cock in the angle he needs it. your eyes widen when you realize that they plan to fuck you at the same time—and they don’t have the decency to let you get accustomed to one before giving you the other. 

gojo hisses, your ass was still so tight despite all his hard work, though the amounts of spit and your own slick he slathered around were making it easy to sink into you. as soon as you hit the hilt of his dick—absolutely shaking from the pressure in your ass, suguru’s nudging your pussy lips apart to bully you some more. 

“you can take us both—you’re a slut, remember? you can do it for us.” suguru reminds you tenderly, holding your face as they get used to the feeling of you and each other through the thin wall of tissue that keeps them apart. you sputter, grabbing onto suguru’s shoulders in an effort to not fall over. satoru uses his hold on your waist to propel you to move, making geto’s work minimal. the pace he sets is brutal, picking you up and slamming you back down while suguru just rocks his hips to add to the sensation of two cocks fucking you open. 

if you thought either of them were big and splitting earlier, then this was what you got in return. white hot pain and pleasure courses through your veins, replacing the fear and unease that has been haunting you for days. they were taking care of you, and if you didn’t have to fear their wrath—why wouldn’t you squeeze their cocks, scream for them, and make them feel just as loved?

this is what they deserve, what their hard work has earned them: your silken walls being beaten into the shapes of their dicks and nothing else—your tits and ass bouncing with the impact of their brutal thrusts sending you back and forth like a tug of war. 

“it’s too much!” you cry out, feeling the heat in your stomach burn as bright as a star–you felt like you were on fire. pleasure tingled up your veins, the gummy spots of your cunt being abused perfectly by suguru’s thick cock—your insides being rearranged by gojo’s unrelenting brutality, despite his sweeter speech. 

“d’awh, no it’s not. look at you—you’re doing it.” he encourages, putting his lips to your neck. “you’re takin’ it so good.” 

“squeezing us even. stop lying–you want even more.” suguru huffs, grabbing your throat. you sputter a little, erotic moans turning higher in pitch. he chuckles at his prediction—cock twitching in your walls. 

“toomuchtoomuch—need to cum, please, please boys—wanna cum all over you!” you plead for yourself, though it’s not exactly a performance. they were fucking you mindless, and at this point you would do whatever it took to have them—even lying to the police about what happened here tonight. 

“aw sugu, listen to her. i wanna see it, let her cum.” satoru adds on your behalf, balancing his chin on your shoulder. he bats those crystal blues at suguru, knowing he surely can’t deny you both—and he won’t. 

“tell us you love us, angel. tell us who fucks you so good, then you can cum.” he grunts, laying his hands over satoru’s to feel you move your hips on them both, fucking into geto just to throw your ass back on satoru—it’s so fucking good. 

his demand isn’t even a challenge—you’ve succumbed to their desires for you some time ago, accepting their brutal form of love as the one that you’re deserving of—men who would kill for you. what more could you ever want? 

“i love you, fuck—i love you both so much! i always have–i always have, you’re my boys!” you pant, your voice begging plead. “you fuck me so good–let me cum to show you, please–suguru!! satoru!!” you cry their names so sweetly that satoru can’t hold himself back anymore—hot cum fills your ass before you even finish saying it. he’s shuddering, nodding to give you his permission, though you wait for suguru too. 

he leans forward—jerking your chin up into a proper kiss with him, gnashing on your lips and giving you a taste of his tongue. he holds your face still as he pulls away, nodding. “cum, angel. you’ve been so fucking good.” he drawls in your ear, giving satoru a rewarding kiss too as your hips spasm under his command. it strokes his ego, the way you scream and jerk as your orgasm overtakes you—the ones he’s denied you factoring into the toe-curling sensation of this one. he follows after you—his hot seed spurting out in bursts, so so much cum. it’s clear suguru and satoru have planned this for some time—and now that delights you instead of invoking the fear it should, if you were normal. 

satoru rubs at your shoulders, pulling away from suguru’s lips with a loud smack. you can feel your heart pounding—hearing it in your ears as they turn to you—cocks still plugging you full. “now princess…” he hums as suguru picks you up off of him. he looks so pretty, you think, his skin slightly red from excitement—blue eyes wild with adrenaline. “we’re gonna get you cleaned up—and then it’s your turn to attack.” he giggles, making you snap your tired head up to suguru who holds you like a baby. 

“the police. we have to be believable survivors after all. didn’t you watch any horror movie, y/n?” he shakes his head, a fond grin on his face as he takes you to the kitchen, sitting you on the counter for satoru to wipe down. gojo kneels between your legs to clean you carefully as suguru tucks the knife into your hands. 

“aim for the stomach. you’ve got our hearts already.” suguru smirks, dialing 911. 

[roc-haze]

I have a really rough idea that I think only you, my fave Will writer, will do justice and bring to life ! Inspired by Whatta Man by Salt-N-Pepa, I’m envisioning a 90s themed party! Perhaps reader and Will (intentionally or unintentionally) in matching outfits? I really love the way you write Will and the friendship dynamics, particularly w Becky my qween

Whatta Man | WillNE

Clothes were strewn across the floor and chaos had absolutely ensued in Y/N’s apartment. Up until recently, she had lived with both Arthur and Flo. Flo had found a place she’d absolutely fallen in love with, subsequently moving out and taking her incredible wardrobe with her. Fuck it, I just won’t go.

Great, she thought. Becky will be pissed if I don’t go.

Rummaging through her wardrobe, Y/N pulled together the outfit she’d worn to her friend Ada’s dirty 30’s party. Throwing on the signature Rachel Green fit of stockings, skirt, high neck tee and a handmade Central Perk apron courtesy of her Cricut machine, Y/N met Arthur, Liv and Bach in the kitchen for a fireball shot.

“Well. Hate to break it to you Isaac, but we’re gonna have to break up for the night.” Liv whistled in her direction, wrapping an arm around Y/N as she got within close proximity. Y/N pulled Liv into a sweet hug, wrapping her arms around her shoulders as Liv’s embraced her torso.

Isaac looked over, mock look of disgust on his face. “So who does that leave me with? Arthur?”

“Give me a wig and a couple of shots. I could be a solid replacement.” Arthur laughed, pouring out a shot for everyone. “Alright, give us a toast Y/N.”

Keeping an arm around Liv, the two girls raised their shot glasses and led the group in a toast. “It’s been a hectic few months, but I have a feeling 2025 is our year. Here’s to all of us - may we stay positive and test negative.” They all clinked their glasses, downing their drinks.

Isaac looked at Liv. “I’ll have to get tested if I spend the night with Arthur.”

The group erupted in laughter.

-

Walking into the party, they were met with all sorts of costumes. TLC’s ‘Waterfalls’ was blasting, Chip and Freezy were absolutely tearing it up on the makeshift dancefloor. Becky could be seen waving Y/N and Liv over.

“I’ll get us a drink and meet you in one sec.” Liv squeezed Y/N’s arm gently, making her way to the bar.

Y/N ran over to Becky, who was dressed as a spice girl. “Becks… you look stunning.”

Becky pulled her friend into a warm embrace, placing a kiss on her cheek. “I had to go with Sporty Spice.. pretty sure there’s a girl here somewhere dressed as Posh.”

The two stood gossiping before Liv joined, holding her hands together to carry over three cans of gin and soda. “I just saw the Arthur’s messing around with the DJ, I wonder what we’re in for.”

Becky had just launched into a story about the latest episode of her show when Chris walked past, doing a double take.

“That’s really clever, Y/N! I didn’t realise you and Will had coordinated costumes.” He smiled brightly before making his way through the room.

The three girls stood off to the side of the dance floor, puzzled. “Becks, have you seen Will’s costume?”.

“No, I haven’t seen him yet. He can’t be that hard to spot though.” She peered around the room.

Liv stifled a laugh. “Imagine if he’s come as Gunther”.

The girls had spent the next hour dancing, managing to drag Bach, ArthurTV, Cam Kirkham and Chloe onto the dance floor. Both Lux and Tobi had approached Y/N, hyping up her costume and letting her know she had matched Will perfectly. Yet, there was still no sight of the man. Y/N looked to Chloe, using her hands to fan her face.

“I need a minute… it’s getting bloody hot in here.” Y/N made a gesture to the bar.

“I’m right behind you, girlfriend.” Chloe gave her a salute.

Making her way to the bar, Y/N veered off to the side to pull her phone out and reply to a few messages she’d received throughout the night. She was mid text when she felt eyes on her. Looking up, she met Will’s gaze as he made his way over to her.

The lanky Geordie was decked out in a tight cropped shirt with ‘Frankie say relax’ written over it, tan pants and a pair of his signature Converse. He grinned, pulling her into a hug. “You must be the Rachel to my Ross.”

“Well, that depends.” Y/N smirked. “Were we on a break?”.

Will laughed, his smile reaching his eyes. “As if I’d ever let you go.” The blood rushed to Y/N’s cheeks as she blushed. “Pretty sure I owe you a pint from our last night out.” He grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the bar. Will ordered for the both of them, before taking both drinks and finding them an unoccupied chair to sit in.

Seating options were limited, which worked perfectly for Will. They took up real estate on the closest love seat, sitting facing each other, legs touching.

Y/N mirrored Will, pint in one hand and the other resting on top of the sofa. They shared recaps of their weeks, laughing between the two of them. To onlookers, they appeared to be totally giddy over one another.

Becky stood chatting with Cam Kirkham, the two of them analysing the couple in front of them.

“I really like them together! He seems real smitten when she’s around.” Cam said, letting out a playful gasp as Will moved a strand of hair out of her face.

Becky nodded. “You know Harry’s been keeping an eye out.”

“Oh what, Wroetoshaw?”.

“Yeah. I hear he’s in the market for a lass.”

Cam tutted. “Not this one. Lenney’s marriage material.”

Arthur Hill emerged, throwing an arm over Becky’s shoulder. “What are we gonna do about those two? The sexual tension is fucking unreal.”

Cam’s eyes lit up. “Maybe we just throw a spicy song suggestion to the DJ. Might inspire them to pash or something.”

“Ooh, I’ve got just the one.” Arthur made his way over to the DJ, throwing him a song suggestion before being met with a nod and thumbs up. Making his way back to the group, Becky called out. “What’d you suggest, Mr Hill?”

“Salt-N-Pepa. Last time we went out for karaoke, they got steamed and performed their own rendition of it.” Arthur laughed, pulling his phone out of his pocket to show Becky a video of their karaoke efforts.

Meanwhile, Will and Y/N sat on the love seat exchanging anecdotes. Pints abandoned to the table in front of them, Y/N sat with her head resting in her palm. Will mirrored her, his free hand resting on her knee.. pinky fingers just touching.

Moments later, Salt-N-Pepa’s ‘Whatta Man’ flowed through the speakers. The two looked at each other, knowing smiles stretching across their faces. Will stood up, holding his hand out for her to grab. He intertwined their fingers, bringing her to the middle of the dance floor.

They gravitated toward the middle, taking turns singing line for line.

I wanna take a minute or two and give much respect due. His hands are on her waist.

To the man that’s made a difference in my world. She’s grinning up at him, singing directly at him.

And although most men are ho’s, he flows on the down low ‘cause I never heard about him without another girl. He’s tracing circles with his thumb.

But I don’t sweat it because it’s just pathetic, to let it, get me involved in that ‘he said, she said’ crowd. She rests her hands on his forearms.

I know that ain’t nobody perfect, I give props to those who deserve it. And believe me y’all, he’s worth it. He’s searching her eyes for even a hint of reciprocity.

So here’s to the future ‘cause we got through the past. I finally found somebody that can make me laugh. She runs her hands along his arms, resting them on his chest.

“You so crazy, I think I wanna have your baby.” Y/N sings, looking straight at him. She lets her gaze flicker from his eyes down to his lips, and just like that, he’s hooked.

Will keeps one hand on her waist, pulling her in as close as he possibly can. His free hand makes a home in her hair, thumb resting on her jaw. Their lips meet. Y/N leaves one hand on his chest, the other coming up to copy his movements - fingers tugging gently on strands of hair, thumb resting on his jaw. They were pretty much parallel. Mirrored on either side. Very Ross and Rachel of them. Will let her lead, and she was going to savour the moment. Y/N laughed into the kiss, trying to keep her mouth closed and make him wait.

Becky, Cam, Chloe and Arthur Hill stood off to the side, clapping and cheering as their friends kissed for the first time.

Freezy walked past, sussing out the commotion. “Why are we cheering?”. He spoke loudly over the chorus.

“They’ve just kissed for the first time!” Becky shouted.

“That’s not the first time!” Freezy spoke directly in her ear.

Becky furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”.

Freezy pulled up his WhatsApp chat with his editors and Chip, showing Becky the screen.

Chip: Just a heads up boys, should maybe cut this out.

*1 video attachment*

The video showed Will and Y/N on a night out filming pub golf, heavily intoxicated. The two were sitting in a booth together, her head resting on his shoulder. She lifted her head to look up at him, gingerly taking his head between her hands and placing a sweet kiss on his lips.

“What was that for?” Video Will had asked.

“Just felt like kissing a handsome man.” Video Y/N replied, resting her head back on his shoulder. Moments later, George had approached to let them know it was time to move on.

Freezy: Yeah, cut it out. Might be a fun story for their wedding someday though.

Becky stood with her jaw dropped, before a grin slowly took over her features. “Let’s just let them believe this is the first time.”

Freezy nodded. “Yeah, I’ll save that footage for a rainy day.”

——

Author’s note:

Thank you for your request! I LOVED the idea and I hope this is kind of what you envisioned 🤭 I love the idea of a somewhat niche costume so this is probs a bit specific. And thank you, my fave anon!! You are very sweet and I’m glad you enjoy these fics 🥹 I was feelin a little discouraged and you have absolutely made my week 💕

Here’s the playlist I listened to while writing and proofreading this one if you’d really like to immerse yourself in the 90s vibes 🤍⭐️

- Loser by Beck

- Bitch by Meredith Brooks

- Waterfalls by TLC

- Linger by The Cranberries

- Angels by Robbie Williams

- One Headlight by The Wallflowers

- The Look by Roxette

[ghouldump]

Trick or Treat | Lestat de Lioncourt x Reader

ෆ sneaking into the supposedly empty townhouse, you are met by a surprise

literally something fun and random since we’re officially in spooky season 😆🎃

“what are you supposed to be?” the random girl asked, as you stood in the mirror, applying the burgundy lipstick.

“a vampire,” you said, sitting the stick down to reach and tighten your corset.

“could've had me fooled, i thought you were a hooker,” she cackled, while you frowned.

“and you are?”

“poision ivy-

“are you sure though, because it’s giving fiona in shrek forever after,” you said, the rest of your friends laughing, while she frowned, storming out of the crowded bathroom.

“bitch,” you mumbled, watching the door as she walked away.

you had allowed your friends to drag you to the nightclub, the prices were half off for those with costumes, which is why you dressed up to begin with. you loved to party, but not tonight, not when you intended on binge-watching all of your favorite halloween movies you'd seen too many times to count.

“i’ll be back, i need some air,” you mumbled, leaving the restroom before any of your friends could stop you.

stepping outside, you sighed, it was refreshing to be out of the humid building. the wind blowing in the night sky, as the tourist crowded the french quarters. you didn’t see the hype, everything was always overpriced — but your friends insisted, claiming all of the potential hook ups would be in the club tonight.

“y/n, are you okay?” kasey, a close friend, came out of the club, her eyebrows slightly raised.

“i’m fine, i’m just not feeling it, i think i’ll catch an uber home,” you said.

“i can bring you-

“no, i don’t want to ruin tonight, i’ll text you when i’m home, you have fun,” you told her, hugging her as she nodded.

“see you later,” she said, going back into the building.

opening the app on your phone, you were about to type in your address, when the voice caught your attention.

“this is the house of the famous rockstar, lestat de lioncourt, he claims to be a vampire,” the tour guide said excitedly, as you slowly approached the group.

“do you think it’s true?”

“well, new orleans has always been a strange place, so we can’t be sure — but he could have a potential ancestor who’s name was also lestat, who moved here, from france,” the guide explained, making you look at the large townhouse.

you were just now hearing about this. you had seen the rockstar a few times in the media, but you had no idea he lived in new orleans. there was too much history from all over the city, to be fascinated by one individual, who could have been a vampire.

pretending to be on your phone, you waited until the group moved along before you slipped past the fence, and went to the door. twisting the knob, you were surprised to find the door unlocked. were they not afraid people would sneak into this house?

shutting the door behind yourself, you turned on your phone’s flashlight, and walking through the house. first, the living room, vintage, yet timeless, each piece of furniture, costly in price. thousands of books, most you hadn’t even heard of, your fingers lightly dragged across them. moving upstairs, you stopped at the first door, twisting the knob, but realized, it was locked.

going to the second door, you entered the master bedroom, eyeing the king-sized bed in the middle of the room, you walked from corner to corner, touching any and everything, when you accidentally triggered a lever — opening a hidden room. seeing a singular coffin, you gasped.

the rumors seemed to likely be true, you couldn’t wait to get home and text the group chat about this. turning to leave, you jumped back, as your flashlight was pointed at the blonde man, who stood around six feet, with peculiar blue eyes.

“oh my goodness, you scared the hell out of me,” you said, making him grin. his expression was sending chills down your spine.

“it isn’t nice to enter someone’s home without their permission,” he said, as you stared into his eyes, it dawned on you, that this was the rockstar…who is a vampire.

“i am so sorry, i wasn’t thinking, but i really need to get going-” you went to move around him, when he moved in front of you, the lights turning on. he hadn't even touched the switch, and yet the room had lit up in an instant.

“i can’t just let you leave, not after what you’ve seen,” he said, smiling as you backed away.

“i won’t tell anyone, i don’t know why i-

“shh, shh, you’re so afraid,” he said, his smiling growing, as he reached to touch your pounding heart.

“please don’t hurt me,” you shut your eyes, turning your head.

“trick or treat”

“excuse me?” you opened your eyes, facing him.

“trick or treat, let’s determine if you deserve to leave so freely,” he tilted his head.

“treat,” you gulped, as he grinned, his fangs showing.

“are you supposed to be a vampire?” he asked suddenly, chuckling.

“y-yes” he was the first person to get it right all night, in the first guess.

“i mean, i see it, but it’s a bit stereotypical, don’t you think,” he said, crossing his arms, as he examined the costume.

“where did you get it?” he reached, tracing the fabric.

“spirit…halloween,” you said, as he rolled his eyes.

“that explains why it feels so cheap,” he said before he was back staring at you.

“please don’t kill me”

“you’re an eccentric human, your thoughts are so complex, i think i’ll keep you around,” he said, moving closer. your thoughts were like a storm, conflicting, while intriguing.

“mister-

“don’t worry, chèrie, you are destined for a treat unlike any other,” he said, pulling you closer, his fangs sinking into your neck.

“is it still ringing? i can try calling her,” kasey stressed, a few hours into the morning, she realized you never texted her. the sun was now setting, and they were scrambling to get in contact with you.

meanwhile, in the luxurious townhouse, hidden in the secret room — lestat laid in his coffin. your phone lay on the counter, ringing for the millionth time, but you didn’t hear it. straddling his lap, there was a light thumping from the shifting of the coffin. your moans filled the walls, as lestat traced up your pretty skin, now covered with the beauty marks of his fangs.

coming down from the euphoric state, you leaned down, kissing his soft lips. moaning, you giggled as he kissed from your lips, onto your neck, before his fangs were back in your neck. your eyes rolled back, moaning at the feeling. while it hurt, the first few times, there was only pleasure now.

pulling away, you stared into lestat’s eyes, kissing his lips, tasting the iron from your blood. you couldn't help but admire the amount of control lestat had over himself.

“will you turn me into a vampire?” you asked him, as his hand went to your neck, tracing down to your shoulder.

“do you want to be a vampire?” he asked, as his hand moved back up, laying against your cheek, as you nodded.

“when i was younger, i used to pretend to be one,” you admitted.

“prove yourself to me, and we can discuss the possibility,” he said, as you pecked his lips once more, nodding in understanding.

“can i have your autograph, my friend are probably losing their minds, and i need a really good reason why i haven't reached out,” you told him, your nails trailing down his chest.

“of course, but i expect to see you back tomorrow night,” he said matter of factly, holding your hand, as you carefully stood.

going to your phone, your eyes widened at the number of calls and messages. “oh my-i don't think that will be enough, they’ll probably hate me after this,” you stressed, flenching, as he ended up behind you in a matter of seconds.

“tell them you were busy, stuck in a game of trick or treat,” he winked, as you nodded, beginning to get dressed. grabbing a marker, he signed your cleavage and sent you on your way, fully expecting you back in the next few hours.

god, you loved halloween.

i can't decide if i prefer a happy ending, or angst, like ughh

[lovelettersfromluna]

After Dark

Summary: It’s a universal rule that every ghost face at a Halloween party is hot underneath. Let’s test that theory, shall we?

an: AHHH OKAY! Lemme explain. I made a post about participating in kinktober, and while a lot of you wanted me to, I feel like it’s too late for me to properly participate. HOWEVER, I still want to give you something to kick off the weekend! Something spooky AND smutty for all my ghouls out there. I hope you’re all having a good Halloweekend! Pls stay safe and have lots of fun, I’m sure you all have the cutest costumes planned! Also, I took a different approach to reader, so let me know how you guys like her!! 🖤🖤 p.s I was drunk when I wrote this :p

Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+, MDNI, porn with no plot, strap-on sex, mentions of the word “cock”, mask kink, alcohol usage, mentions of latex, riding, cliche house party trope, slight sugar mommy!ellie if you squint??, lmk if I missed anything!

Out of all of three hundred and sixty five days of the year, today was your favorite.

Today was the one day within the year that there weren’t really any rules. You could wear anything, be whoever you wanted, and it was socially acceptable to get drunk while doing so, and there was no way in hell you would ever pass up on that.

No matter the circumstances, you were invited to a Halloween party. Whether it was some cheesy bash that was being thrown at a friend of a friends house, or a more upscale party, you were going out.

And you always looked damn good doing so.

You were always praised on your costumes, every year it was expected of you to top what you did the last, so there was no doubt in the fact that you were putting in maximum effort year after year.

This year? You stuck with one of the classics of course. The devil.

You were dripping in skin tight latex, the black corset you wore that pushed your boobs out perfectly, your soft skin nearly spilling out of the tight top, the tight booty shorts that hugged the globes of your ass, your cheeks peeking out, the gloves that hugged your arms, and the thigh high socks that shined under the moonlight, everything you wore was that delicious shiny material that made you look almost unreal.

And underneath it all? You had painted your entire body red, paired with fake red horns peeking out of your pretty hair.

So yeah, you were almost always crowned as the queen of Halloween.

This year was no different, halloweekend had been kicked off with quite the everything shower, making sure your body was in perfect condition for everything you’d be attending. You had gotten ready with your friends at your apartment, getting a few shots in before making it to the biggest party of the year. Everyone looked forward to it, putting together their best costumes for the party at the house that almost everyone died to get into.

Walking down the streets of the city on Halloween was like Christmas, various characters from movies and cartoons cheering, dancing, all social barriers that were put up every other day of the year were down, the veil being lifted for one night that allowed anything to be game.

The amount of whistles you and your friends received on your way there was almost appalling, not to mention the amount of people who told you they’d let you torture them any day. You thought that was cute.

Soon enough, the sounds of the party were near, and you could see the red lights spilling out of the big house in the middle of the block, and you knew it was time.

Eyes were on you immediately, and it made you giggle as you scoped out the food group that was there tonight. Of course you knew they’d stare, drool over you with their mouths open, begging for just a moment of your time.

But you were a very picky girl.

Ignoring their advances was like second nature, all you had to do, was shake your ass, drink some free liquor, and wait for the perfect person to take up your time for the night.

And as always, that never took long for you.

Your hips swayed to the music, eyes closed as you enjoyed one of the best parts of parties. The alcohol you drank made your body warm up in the best way, made every touch on your body feel so much more intense, all while numbing out everything else. It made you feel alive, it made you raise your arms above your head and simply let the music move you.

It was only a moment, your eyes drifting open to make sure your friend was still in front of you, and you’re sure if you hadn’t, you would’ve missed it.

Across the room, stood a tall figure. She wore a loose black t shirt, baggy black jeans, black boots….

And a ghost face mask.

The figure was turned towards you, leaning against the wall with a red solo cup clasped between a hand, a pretty tattoo bleeding into it. Anyone else would have seen it, and thought that whoever it was, was extremely fucking creepy. Everyone knew that ghost face was one of the creepiest people you could choose to be for Halloween ever.

But it just so happened, that you’ve always had a thing for masked killers.

Although you couldn’t see the eyes of the person behind the mask, you could feel them, and it made you burn from the inside. You bit your bottom lip softly, throwing back the rest of the alcohol in your cup before you turned your body more towards them, giving them a good view of your body. You began dancing, putting on a show for them, your glove glad hands running up and down your body, your neck, your boobs, your waist, practically having sex on the dance floor with yourself, all for this stranger who was most definitely watching you.

You feel like you have x-ray vision, because although you can’t see her face, you can see the way she grips her cup tighter whenever you sway your hips, turning around to give her a nice view of your ass. You see the way she shifts her weight onto her other foot whenever your hand runs over the curve of your tits. When you really know you’ve got her, is when you rest your hands on your friends hips, and pull her into your crotch, your eyes never leaving the ghost face mask. You know you’ve got her because she sets her cup down, raises her long, skinny fingers, and silently calls you over before she makes her way down one of the hallways in the house.

And suddenly, a game of cat and mouse begins.

You almost never chase anyone at a party, you’re always the one that’s being chased. However, there’s something about this ghost face. There’s an aura radiating off of her, one that’s dripping of lust, screaming at you, telling you she’s got exactly what you need, exactly what you’re looking for during these stupid Halloween parties.

So you break your little streak, and as soon as she calls you, you’re following her.

The house is lit up with all different colors, the kitchen was purple, the living room was pink, everywhere you turned was another tinted space that fit the Halloween vibe perfectly.

As you look around for your ghost face, you can’t help but huff softly. It almost feels as if she’s disappeared into thin air, as if the alcohol in your system made you hallucinate the entire thing. You begin to question yourself, a soft pout on your lips as you make your way down the final place to look for her.

But of course, you finally find her leaned up against one of the hallways, and of course it’s completely lit up red.

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth as you smile, making you way towards her. Once you’re standing in front of her, you expect her to take off the mask, show her who it is that’s hiding behind that silly mask.

But she doesn’t

You giggle softly, your hand toying with the hem of her shirt as you stare up at her with big doe eyes.

“You gonna show me the pretty face you’re hiding under that mask?” You purr out, and the ghost face simply shakes her head. It makes you pout, tugging at her shirt gently as you lean into her a bit, but still keeping your body a ways away from hers.

“But…how am I supposed to talk to you if I can’t see you” you whine, hoping that this little pouty act will get you what you want. It usually does, but this ghost face seems far too stubborn for that. She simply cocks her head to the side, as if clicking her tongue and mocking your pout.

It makes your pussy flutter with need.

She hasn’t even said anything to you, but you’re already squeezing your legs together, eager for some kind of friction to soothe the ache between your legs, your lips rubbing together with the arousal that grew with each passing second.

You hum softly, your latex clad fingers running down her arm, reaching her tattoo and tracing the pattern gently.

Hm…you don’t recall that one.

She gives you her arm with ease, allowing you to see her tattoo, that makes you smile softly.

“This is pretty…” you hum before you look back up at her, biting your plush bottom lip softly. “Are there anymore for me to find?” You question, giving her a playful smile. This one gets her, because you can hear the way her breath shudders, see the way her chest rises and falls for a moment.

She’s right where you want her.

You hum softly, your hand slowly coming up to the mask, eyeing her closely as you gently begin pushing it up, eager to see her face. You flinch when she grabs your wrist, stopping you from lifting it up any further. You pout again, it’s genuine this time, not like before. A soft huff leaves your lips before you open your mouth to complain, tell the girl that if she doesn’t want to show you her face, you’ll leave to find someone else who will.

But before you can, you’re being tugged into a random bedroom.

Upon entering, you can see why this place is the spot was so popular for parties. The rooms are clean, and the host went as far as to decorate them accordingly, the same red lights from the hallway lighting up the place. If you weren’t so hellbent on getting fucked by the ghost face, you’d most certainly be gushing over what a wonderful party host this was.

Your thoughts are completely cut off by strong arms wrapping around your waist, and pulling you into an even stronger chest. It makes you moan softly, your head falling back against her chest. You feel her strong hands running up and down your latex clad body, squeezing your hips, your boobs, running along your thighs. You can hear her breathing behind you, and you can almost hear the sweet tone of her voice through it.

You let out a small whine, one of your hands coming down to lay over hers, keeping her close to you. “Wanna play with you…” you hum softly, it makes your ghost face groan, her hands squeezing your plush body before she turns you around, and pushes you onto the soft bed.

It makes you giggle softly, your hands running along the soft sheets as you watch her. She looks like a god above you, standing so tall, the ghostly mask almost haunting as she eats you up with her eyes, head cocked to the side as you lazily smile up at her.

You move to prop yourself up onto your hands, palms pressing into the bed, your legs spreading for her. “So…you’re leaving the mask on, huh? Does that make me the helpless victim?” You pout out, holding back a giggle as you recite the lines from the movie the mask came from. It earns a slow nod from your ghost face, and you have to hold back a moan.

“Well…please play with me ghost face…I wanna be yours tonight” you purr out, your body sitting up as you reach forward, your fingers snagging around the belt loop of her jeans and pulling her closer.

You hear a soft sigh from behind the mask, and it almost sounds like she’s suffering, like she’s torturing herself just as much as she’s torturing you by not touching you yet. Her strong hand slowly comes up, cupping your chin gently and angling your head up, her thumb dragging across your bottom lip. You moan softly, kissing her finger gently, it makes her groan again.

She slowly moves down, bending down until her hands are pushed against the bed, caging you in. It makes you crawl backwards, a soft whimper leaving your lips. When she’s this close, backing you up onto the bed, you can catch a glimmer of her eyes beneath the mesh material of the eyes of the ghost. You can see her long lashes, and big green eyes. It makes your pussy throb desperately.

Because fuck, you’ve never seen eyes that pretty before.

You almost done catch her hands reaching down between you, pushing into the tight material of your latex shorts, fingers pressing against your soaked core. You’re so desperate for her, that the small act makes you moan softly, eyes fluttering shut as you grind your hips against her fingers. You can tell she’s skilled just by the way she fingers your clit and rubs you slowly, the right fabric of your shorts making it an even tighter fit.

“Fuck…” you hear softly from behind the mask, and it’s the first time you’ve properly heard her voice, it makes you feel like you can cum right then and there.

You blink softly as you stare into her eyes, watching her as she slowly toys with your pussy, making you whine and moan for her from the small motions of her fingers.

“Mmpph…feels…fuck…your fingers…” you moan softly, feeling yourself growing close just from the way she rubbed your throbbing clit. Your hand goes down to her tattooed arm, grabbing it as she begins to speed up. You whine loudly, your back arching as you grind in tow with her movements, and fuck…you’re so close, you feel like you’re going to explode just from a stranger finger fucking you.

And suddenly, her fingers are gone.

“W-what? Why’d you…why’d you stop” you whimper softly while trying to catch your breath, watching as your ghost face began to tug your shorts off. You whine softly with embarrassment, watching as she silently tugged your shorts off, a string of your arousal connecting you to your shorts. You can’t remember the last time you were this wet.

Your ghost face groans softly, mumbling something under her breath that you don’t quite catch. You open your mouth to say something, but you’re quickly being tugged up into her arms as she lays down on the bed.

Now you’re straddling her lap, your bare core dragging along her jeans as her strong hands massage your thighs. You whine softly, because you can feel the prominent bulge pressing against you through her pants. Her hands go to your hips, forcing you to grind your soaking wet pussy against her crotch, your arousal staining her black jeans, making you burn from the inside out.

You moan loudly, your hands pressing against her lower stomach as you watch the way she slowly grinds you down on her as she pleases. You’re eager, so you’re already undoing her belt and unbuttoning her jeans. You almost expect her to stop you, but she doesn’t, and you’re pulling out her pink strap, the length of it making your mouth water.

If you weren’t so fucking horny, the color would’ve made you giggle, but there’s no time for that. You tug her jeans down a bit more, to which she lifts her hips up to help you, and you begin to crawl up her body slightly until you’re hovering over her length, her hand grabbing the shaft as she runs it along your lips, getting it wet with your arousal before she helps you sink down on it.

The moan you both let out is past pornography, the weight of you pushing down her strap rubs against her clit perfectly, and she’s sure she’s never experienced someone riding her so fucking well. The sound of her pretty voice makes you want to cry, because she’s been teasing you so much that you’ll take just about anything she gives you. You begin to bounce on her length slowly, adjusting to her size, your hands pressed against her chest to act as leverage.

“Oh my…fucking god….mmmhhh…a-ah!” You moan out, eyes fluttering shut as you ride her, back arching as your hands go up into your hair, tugging on it, needing somewhat of an outlet to release the pleasure you were feeling. Your senses were on overload, and you weren’t sure if it was the build up of not knowing who the hell you were fucking, or if it was truly that good, but you’re sure you’ve never had a fuck this good in your entire life.

“Fuck…that’s a good fucking girl…bouncing on my cock so well…yeah…that’s it” the voice makes you moan loudly, your eyes opening immediately. She sounds perfect, her voice low and smooth, strong hands gripping your thighs for a moment before they come down on your ass, spanking you hard and making you moan even louder.

You can practically hear the smirk in her voice when she speaks, her voice dripping with lust as you fuck your self down onto her cock. “Haven’t even seen my face and you’re doing all of this for me…treating me special, pretty girl?” She hums out before moaning loudly with you. You can’t help but nod, slowly feeling yourself becoming dumb on her cock.

“S’good…feels so good…I’ll do anything for you” you moan out almost incoherently, saying just about anything that comes to mind in that moment.

As you continue bouncing on her cock, the motions of it all makes her mask come up a bit, and you catch a glimpse of her plush pink lips tugged beneath her pretty teeth. It makes you whine softly, and you realize you can’t fucking do this anymore.

You reach forward, your hand going to the edge of the mask, and you tug it off of her head.

You feel like you’ll lose your breath, keel over and die at that very moment when you see her, because she’s so fucking pretty. Her brown hair is so messy, soft fringe splayed across her face, prettiest freckles littering her red cheeks, those same green eyes staring into yours, pretty lips tugging into a smirk when she sees the way your eyebrows furrow with pleasure, knowing that it was her face that made you feel that way.

“Just couldn’t wait, could you?” She smirks softly, her words followed by a soft groan, hands traveling up your body and gripping your boobs that were nearly completely spilled out of your top.

“Want you to cum for me, princess…can you do that? Cum all over my cock?” She urges on, her words cut off by various moans as you continue fucking yourself down on her. You want to speak, but you can’t, so all you do is nod eagerly and give her a loud moan, feeling the familiar warmth building up in the pit of your stomach, electricity traveling through your body.

Ellie moans with you, her eyes never leaving yours as she gives you an encouraging nod. “That’s it baby…such a pretty fucking girl…been watching you all night…knew I needed to…fuck…have you…come on baby…cum for me” she commands, and you feel like you’ll turn into jelly just from the way she tells you to do it, so stern, your legs felt like they could no longer hold you up, shaking as your back arched almost painfully, and your orgasm raked through your body.

It was electrifying, the feeling of her cock sliding so deep into you, your walls fluttering around it as you came, her hands gripping your hips tightly as she pushed even deeper into you, her own orgasm visibly washing over her as she pushed her head further into the bed, eyes squeezing shut, curse words flying from her pretty lips.

You both sat there for a moment, Ellie sitting up and pressing her face against your chest as she held you close, hands rubbing against your thighs, soft kisses against your boobs, giving both you and herself a moment to collect yourselves after the intense session you’d just had.

After a few moments passed, you pouted softly as you looked down at the bed and noticed some of the red body paint had smeared onto the bed.

“Fuck…you don’t think the host will be mad about that…do you?” You mumbled softly, trying to avoid the embarrassment you felt at the fact that your fucking costume had ended up screwing you over.

Ellie chuckled softly as she looked down at the bed, humming softly as she pressed another kiss to your chest before she pulled you down to lay down with her, having every intention of keeping you there until enough people left, and you could both go for a shower.

“Nah…I don’t mind” she smirked softly, knowing she’d most definitely be making sure the sheets were changed for you both in the morning.

[cherryblossompink303]

Patience: ~Honey's three bitter days!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: Honey gets a cavity and it threatens to tear apart his relationship with Mori ➼ what to expect:  "Oh I thought we were being honest" ➼ warnings: none ➼ Part Eleven | Part Thirteen

"We may have to consider renting costumes for the sake of storage of them all." You mutter as you and Kyoya look over plans for the next month. Kyoya's face scrunched up at the idea. "Rent?"

"Do you want to put part of the budget to building an additional closet for all the costumes?" you raise an eyebrow, taking a sip of coffee. "Or is there another abandoned music room that I don't know about that we can occupy?"

"...I see your point"

"What? You idiots!" Tamaki's yelling from the other side fo the host club caught both of your attentions. "You're the ones who bumped into it, right?"

"Only because Haruhi was running away" "We were trying to catch her 'cause we wanted to have fun and dress up in cosplay"

"So what? We cosplay all the time!"

"We weren't going with the usual Host club costumes" "We want to see Haruhi in bunny cosplay, disguised as a girl"

You raise an eyebrow "Disguised as a girl?" you hold back a laugh at the look on Haruhi's face. "You'd like to see it, too, wouldn't you?" Tamaki turns more red by the second. "I'd definitely want to see that. What am I thinking? There's no time for stuff like that now! I know what you're up to. You're trying to distract me from the mess you've made! Get away from Haruhi you punks!"

"No way"

"let me go!"

"Excuse me. We don't have any guests at the moment, so I don't mind if you make a racket, but please, be careful. You don't want to wake Honey-Senpai" Kyoya leans over to inform them. Tamaki and the twins freeze up at the mention.

"He's a third year who still takes afternoon naps? Well, we're gonna have to tell him about the bunny at some point, let's just wake him up and apologize" Haruhi, rather cluelessly, approaches where honey is napping.

"No wait! Don't get any closer to honey-senpai! Come back, it's safe over here!" Tamaki and the twins call from the couch they are hiding behind "What are you talking about?"

"Honey-senpai wakes up in a very bad mood after napping. Now it may just be a rumor but the Haninozuka family once visited a US military base to give combat training. Supposedly, Honey-Senpai slept through most of it because of his jet lag. Then a soldier came in and carelessly tried to wake him up since he had been sleeping for so long. On that day, he wiped out two entire platoons of soldiers and not just any soldiers, green berets! And i've heard we've had diplomatic issues with America ever since that day"

"How terrifying"

"And we've got a bigger problem. Usa-Chan was hand-made for Honey-Senpai by his deceased grandmother you've seen the way he carries it around. That little bunny is his most prized possession. I can't imagine how he's going to react when he wakes up and sees that his precious Usa-chan is ruined!"

"He's gonna do to us what he did to those green berets!"

"You're exaggerating, it's impossible for that story to be true, i mean come on"

"It is, and there's other evidence that honey-senpai has an evil side to him, listen to this. his blood type is AB how about that"

"yeah so what?"

"But Haruhi, that mean's he's the same blood type as Kyoya"

Haruhi jumps back in shock, clearly convinced. the group slowly turning to face the two of you "What's the matter? Do you guys have a problem with my blood type?" you sit up "Hey I have AB blood type, what's wrong with that?"

Honey shifts in his sleep, distracting the rest of them "This is bad, we have to do something quick before he wakes up. Hikaru, kaoru" Tamaki snaps his fingers. The twins slide in "Sir!" They whisper, saluting.

"Go get your folks' cessna. Fly to Osorezan and bring back a medium, we'll channel his grandfather, and she can guide us through it. We can make a new Usa-chan for Honey-senpai! Here take this map of the Aomori prefecture with you and don't forget to bring back apple juice, apple jam and nebuta souvenir dolls"

"But we don't have that much time" "We're used to you crazy plans but you should come up with something more practical"

"Alright, how about this? We'll send usa-chan to the cleaners. haruhi! You're going to have to wear the bunny suit"

"yeah good idea boss!"

"Forget about it! I'm not wearing that stupid bunny suit! It's not gonna work he'll know it's me!"

"No he won't he won't be able to tell the difference if he's just waking up from a nap!"

"Well then why don't you wear it senpai!"

The two of them descended into a series of incoherant arguing. Clearly forgetting that Honey was asleep nearby, who was now waking up.

"He's awake! We'll have to use a substitute! We've got no choice!" Tamaki sneaks a stuffed bear onto the sofa where Honey was waking up, who as he finally becomes aware of his surroundings picks up the bear and throws the bear to the floor.

"No! Not my teddy bear!" "He's gonna come after us next!""He just spotted his bunny rabbit!"

Honey sleepily stumbled to the table where Usa-chan laid, picking up the tea soaked rabbit. "Who's responsible for this? Who got Usa-chan dirty"

The twins and Tamaki break out into screaming its "Someone, help. Mori-senpai, don't let him hurt us!"

"He wanted tea, so usa-chan decided to have a drink"

The club falls silent, holding their breaths in hopes the explanation worked.

"I see. So that's why his face is all dirty, isn't it? Hey do you think he wants some cake too?"

the boys fall to the ground with relief.

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Honey's three bitter days!

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"You can't keep eating nothing but sweets all the time. You know you're gonna end up with a cavity"

"Oh don't worry. I always brush my teeth" As honey bite into the piece of cake on his fork he freezes up, curling in on himself in pain,catching the attention of the entire host club. "Honey-senpai is it?"

"It's nothing, kay?"

"Let me just take a look in your mouth"

"Hole still" "Honey-senpai please quit squirming"

"There's nothing wrong! Quite messing with me! Leave me alone!"

A large shadow casts over Honey, causing him to look up with a gasp. Mori lunges forward, taking Honey’s hand in one of his own and gripping his chin in the other, pinning him to a nearby sofa in one quick motion, despite sounds of protest from Honey.

The guests around to watch all scream in unison, Renge among them. “Yes! That’s it, that’s it! That’s what was missing. It’s… moe~!”

She wiggles in anticipation behind them. Mori presses his fingers on either of Honey’s cheeks and prompts him to open his mouth. Honey allows his jaw to fall slack despite firm protest, and Mori catches sight of the cavity plaguing one of Honey’s molars.

Tamaki peeks over the sofa to get a look, “So, is it… a cavity?”

“Yeah,” Mori replies plainly.

“It’s alright. I’ll be okay.” Honey whimpers unconvincingly.

Mori turns to face the leader "Tamaki" he manages to somehow convey his entire point in one word "Yes, you're right i'll take care of this"

Tamaki stepsto face all the guests and the host club, clearing his throat "Until honey-senpai gets over his cavity I'm afraid he can't have sweets. Therefore, we'll be supportive and ask that you kindly refrain from eating snacks in the club room until this ordeal is over"

Honey starts to tear up "no! No, don't Takashi. Please don't take my snacks away, you can't, don't do it. What'll I do without them?" Mori picks up a nearby slice of cake, moving it away "I can handle it! Please don't take away my cake!"

"No more cake"

Honey falls to the floor whailing.

"And that’s how it all began. One little cavity, and suddenly Honey-Senpai’s life became a living hell.”

You and kyoya's heads fall to the side simultaneously as you watch the scene unfolding. "Well, that's our small clothing budget issue fixed-ow!" you elbow him in the ribs. "You were thinking the same thing"

"Yes but I wasn't going to say it out loud!"

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As you are walking towards the host club you spot mori and a girl standing together in the hallway. You don't mean to eavesdrop, you really didn't. but there was no way to get through without interupting them so instead you hide behind a pillar.

"I just can't hide it any longer. I have to get this off my chest, i need to know what your feelings are towards me, and if you'll accept my love" Mori remains as stoic as ever.

"Will you, please? Unless of course, there's someone else. Please tell me. is there someone else who's dear to you?"

At the non-reply the girl sighs "There is isn't there? Huh I should've known" The girl runs off.

"You can come out now Y/n"

You awkwardly step out of your hiding place, you should have known that Mori would've picked up on your presence. "Sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop- i just-"

Mori sighs, shaking his head. "You don't...have someone else...do you?" You ask, looking back to where the girl had ran off to. Mori looks back at you with a stern look. "Relax Mori-senpai, I am not the others, you can be honest with me and I won't jump into an insane scheme"

"No" You could tell from the look on his face that there was more to what he was saying. "But your heart is elsewhere anyway?"

You smile "You know Mori, you've been really vigilant on making sure Honey stays healthy" he remains silent, staring off in the distance. "Not all love has to be or is romantic" he still remains silent as expected.

"Perhaps, you feel that there is someone else that has your heart because someone else does, just not in a way that would make sense romantically, and that's okay" you give him a half hearted smile, starting to carry on down the hallway "Is that how you feel about Kyoya?"

You freeze at the question. "What?" you turn back to him "You love him, don't you? is that romantic love or something else?"

Your jaw hangs open, inhaling as you shake your head. Do you love kyoya? surely not, but....no- no of course not, that would be mad. "I- Kyoya and I are just- we...."

Mori's chin picked up "Oh I thought we were being honest" your face fell. "Mori!"

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Honey-Senpai’s 'get sweets’ strategy #1: Use the cute

With an adorable giggle, Honey prances toward Mori in nearly a slow-motion-like way, “Look, Takashi! My cavity is all better now!”

Unbothered, reading his novel, Mori sits at an empty table, one leg crossed over the other, “… you sure?”

“The swelling has even gone down!”

“… has it?”

“So~ Do you think I can have a piece of cake? Just one? Please?”

With a carefully calculated trajectory, Mori shoves a popsicle made of pure ice into Honey’s open mouth, resting against each and every one of his teeth.

Honey’s reaction proves his assertions otherwise- He gasps, yelps, and shivers, holding his swollen cheek with his hands and putting pressure on it.

Flourishing the popsicle, Mori strides away, unfazed, “You’re not fully recovered yet.”

Honey-Senpai’s 'get sweets’ strategy #2: The indirect method

Two unsuspecting guests enjoy their complimentary tea and finger sandwiches peacefully, unbothered. But, a threat soon makes itself known.

Honey hovers around them like a shark waiting to pounce, humming innocently, but his intentions indicate otherwise.

He turns and makes eye contact with them, to which they immediately avoid guiltily.

“What are you ladies drinking?” Honey waddles up to them.

“Um. Darjeeling tea, it’s really good!” The first guest cringes nervously.

“Yeah? What’re you going to have to eat?” Honey pries, getting closer and closer to his desired topic for conversation.

“Well… I was going to have a sandwich.” The second guest admits.

“Ahh. You know what you need? Some sweets! That tea would go well with something… sweet! Like, maybe some cake! C'mon, whaddya say?” Honey wiggles in anticipation, glancing back and forth between each guest.

One guest sighs, “Well… it would be good with cake…” She sighs.

“It sure would…” The first guest groans.

The girls exchange edgy looks, and they know what they must do.

A beat of silence passes, and they each stand up abruptly, slamming their cups of tea on their respective saucers in procession, and dash off in the opposite direction, each unwilling to face the confrontation.

“We’re so sorry, Honey!”

“But it’s for your own good!”

“B-b-but wait!” Honey reaches for them, teary-eyed. He hangs his head with a prominent pout.

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Honey-Senpai’s 'get sweets’ strategy #3: Pulling at the heartstrings

You stand with perfectly straight posture, arms folded behind your back as you observe the club processions quietly, finally off duty for once.

You hear a deep sigh and glance to your side through your peripheral vision. You find Honey, trudging in your direction with his head hung shamefully, sulking.

“Honey-Senpai?” You glance at him. He lets his head fall onto your upper arm and grips your sleeve tightly.

“y/n-chan… am I a bad person?” Honey lifts his head, revealing his glistening eyes. You almost flinch, lips pressing into a thin line at his show of emotion.

“I just don’t understand why God hates me. What have I done?” He whimpers pathetically.

He has definitely succeeded in pulling harshly at your heartstrings. As a result, you feel your chest ache.

But, you have an escape plan- metaphorically hiding behind someone whose heartstrings are pulled taught enough that nearly no one can pull.

“Um… let me just… go… ask Kyoya something.” You laugh nervously, stepping away from Honey and scurrying toward Kyoya at the other end of the clubroom.

Honey should have known better- everyone knows you to retreat to your safe place when you feel put on the spot… and that happens to be, unfortunately for him at this moment, Kyoya. He sighs, knowing you’re never coming back to confer with him.

You reach Kyoya and grip his sleeve. He’s facing away from Honey, so you position yourself in front of him and peek at Honey from afar. Kyoya’s brows furrow, glancing over his shoulder. You quickly stop him.

“Shh! Don’t look back over there! Pretend you need me,” You whisper, pleading.

“What are you-”

“Honey-Senpai’s giving me the eyes for sweets… I can’t let him find my stash,” you whine.

“You have a stash?” For some reason, Kyoya’s not all that surprised.

“Just a few… sweets in my book bag.” You should have thought this through- you’ve left your bag at an empty table. And, if Honey had a sixth sense for sweets, he could find them easily.

Honey pouts as he watches you talk to Kyoya and glance at him every now and then. Finally, Kyoya catches Honey’s eyes and makes eye contact with him for a split second before turning back to you, pushing up his glasses and seemingly asking you a question.

Honey chose the wrong person with the right connections.

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Honey had been broken down to menacingly pacing up and down the host club. The rest of you sat at a table nearby "He's gonna break"

"Would somebody please talk to him. He's scaring me" the door slams open, causing Hikaru to stand up "He's headed for the candy!"

"No need to worry, we emptied out all the sweets"

"Kyoya-senpai, you seem really chipper today"

"It's because he's won a debate on whether or not we should start renting costumes, that and because I stopped bringing my stash of candy to school" you muttered, not bothering to lift your cheek from the palm it was resting on.

Honey pulls out Tamaki's teddy bear, throwing it to the floor "Ah! he keeps doing that to my teddy bear!"

Honey falls to the floor "Well, there he goes"

"Three days and he gives up"

Tamaki slides over "Um, Honey-Senpai?"

Honey jumps to bite at Tamaki's arm "Ah! Somebody help me! He's eating my arm off!"

Mori stands up silently, walking over to him "Mitskuni, don't take this out on other people." Honey cuts out of it, letting go of Tamaki "You saved me, I thought I was a goner"

"It's disgraceful"

The word seemed to trigger Honey-Senpai "Takashi"

He throws him to the floor "You idiot! A little bit isn't gonna hurt me! You're so mean! You're such a hardhead! That's it I hate you! I hate you Takashi!" Honey runs off and out of the club room. "Hey, Mori-senpai" "That was harsh will you be alright?"

Mori stands up, stumbling about before falling to his knees, taking a table with him "Wow, senpai, it looks like he really got to you" "I don't know what's going on but it seems like you're self-destructing"

"Maybe honey-Senpai wouldn't hate you if you hadn't been so hard on him in the first place"

"It was on purpose" The realisation dawned on you that Mori may have misconstrued the conversation the two of you had in the corridor.

"hm?"

"Mori-Senpai, by any chance have you been acting like this because you're trying to get Honey-senpai to hate you?"

"Why would he do that?" "It makes no sense that would be like the end of the world for Mori-Senpai"

"Why would he do it on purpose?"

"Well maybe, because he was trying to punish himself....I'm right aren't I?"

"Yeah you are, this was my fault. Mitskuni has a cavity because I'm careless.twice before his Nap time I forgot to make him brush his teeth"

"But that's not really your responsibility. He should know better"

"But if Mitskuni has to get false teeth, it'll be my fault"

"Uh...don't worry that's not gonna happen"

"Wow what a pessimist"

"I wouldn't be able to live with myself right now if he hadn't thrown me down"

"Because he felt at fault, Mori-senpai wanted some sort of punishment from Honey-Senpai to make up for his failure"

"Well...while that certainly makes a nice story and everything" "It was just a little cavity, right?"

The door opens to reveal Honey and Tamaki "Well there you have it Honey-senpai. What will you do now?"

Honey wells up, running across the room wailing to get to Mori "i'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Takashi! I promise I won't forget to brush my teeth again! I won't forget!"

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“A few days later, Honey-Senpai recovered from his painful cavity. So the host club decided to lift their ban on sweets, and Honey-Senpai can greedily stuff his face once more.”

Seated at a single table in the back corner, Kyoya clutches a group of receipts in one hand and a calculator in the other. Overwhelmed by numbers, he sighs, slouching in his chair defeatedly.

“What’s with Kyoya-Senpai? He looks depressed about something.” Haruhi observes.

“Honey-Senpai’s back to eating sweets; the prices of those snacks add up and can get overwhelming,”

"Here" you approach him with a piece of paper. He appears tense as he looks up at you "What's this?" he takes it from you. "I reworked the budget to account for Honey's sweet influx but without having to sacrifice the costumes"

"What?"

"I knew this was going to end eventually, and when it does Honey's sweet consumption was going to skyrocket. I thought I'd save you the headache"

"That's very...thoughtful...and efficient. Thank you"

"Well...it's our job isn't it?"

Kyoya tilts his chin up, and for a moment you could have sworn you saw the beginnings of a smile. "I suppose it is"

Next time on patience 'Y/N in wonderland!'

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[fushiguruuzzzz]

V ⊹ ࣪ ˖ For the First Time 

Series mlist 

Tags — mentions of alcohol and marijuana, Megumi being ominous asl 

Words — 1.7k 

When the scent of bitter alcohol and the piercing purple light of the LED’s illuminating the bustling frat house hit you, it was clear you’d be in for a long night. No matter how much you denied the allegations from your friends, you were perfectly aware of your rather low tolerance to alcohol. It wasn’t like it was your fault, you just weren’t a drinker! Sure you’d sip on a beverage every once in a while, occasionally take a joint if it was offered to you on nights where your mind was all too busy for the atmosphere. A party just wasn’t your usual scene, so when you did show up… you indulged. In high school, your presence was a telltale sign to pull out their cameras and hope nothing was broken. It was funny in hindsight, but the excruciating headaches and the embarrassment for the days afterwards made it less enjoyable. 

Most people had already shown up. There were many of them, scattered all around the different rooms and the expanse of the outdoors. They really went all out, though you doubted it was actually the frat boys who did the decorating. Thank goodness for sorority girls and their liking for jocks. There were faux cobwebs strewn about every corner, table, every nook and cranny. There were ghosts and spiders galore, giving the usually blank, testosterone reeking building an air of festivity. 

You glanced to Toge, Yuta, and Maki grouped around you as you made your way to the kitchen. Red solo cups decorated the tables in stacks, inviting you to take a drink. Who were you to resist? 

“We should put a GoPro on [name], document all of the stupid shit she’ll do tonight,” Panda interrupted your thoughts, followed by an overly noisy slurp of his drink. Your eyes narrowing in a glare, sneering at him. You would’ve flipped him off, had your hands not been occupied by the bottle of vodka in your hand. You weren’t that hardcore, though, it was being poured in small doses into your cup filled with fruit punch. 

“Please, if it happens it’s your fault,” Maki rolled her eyes, pushing past Panda to lean against the wall parallel to the drink table. “You just couldn’t resist the cold takeout in the fridge, huh? Now we’ve all got to deal with Kat Stratford Junior.” 

Toge sniggered, his slender hand coming up to cover his mouth. “Maybe he did it on purpose. I didn’t get good enough pictures last time,” he grinned. You made a face at him, rolling your eyes. “Fuck you. All of you,” you said, no actual heat behind your words. Yuta looked at you like a dumbfounded, kicked puppy, to which you grinned and mouthed “not you”. Turning away from them, you grumbled under your breath for a moment, retrieving your phone from your pocket. 

“Where’s Yuji?” you muttered. You were sort of looking forward to meeting his friends, especially the girl. 

“I’m going to say hi to Yuji, you guys wanna come?” you offered, returning your cell to its rightful place in your jacket. The four just gave subtle actions of decline, the shake of a head or the slight wave of a hand. 

“We’ll stick to ourselves for now,” Maki said, eyeing you over the rim of her slender glasses. “We can find you later, though!” Yuta added, that bright smile finding its way on to his face. 

You nodded, severing off from the group. You weaved through heaps of sweaty bodies and costumes that showed far too much skin, almost getting knocked over by what looked like Arthur Morgan in a speedo. Suppressing the grimace on your face, you pushed past the doors and scanned the grassy terrain for a familiar head of pink hair. 

Spotted. Pink tufts of hair peeking out of a royal blue cap, just across the yard. Luckily most people stuck to the inside of the frat, a closer proximity to the alcohol they were all desperate to get their hands on. It was much more peaceful out here, the gentle chill of the night air stark in contrast to the mugginess of inside, all of the body heat and sweat that you were far too sober to ignore. 

You approached the boy, gentle steps leading you right up to him and one other girl. You assumed it was Kugisaki, the girl he’d mentioned was one of his best friends. At least you hoped so, hoped that it was her and not someone Yuji was trying to make a move on. 

He turned around, the blurry figure of blue and yellow showing up in his peripheral. He smiled wide upon noticing you, giving a friendly wave and a “Hey!” 

“Hi,” you said, giving a polite grin and a little wave, eyeing the orange haired girl by his side. He gently nudged you closer, motioning to her. “This is Nobara, I told you about her,” he said. 

She eyed you for a moment, seeming to assess you. She took in your appearance, your energy, your facial expression. She sure stared a lot. Suddenly you wished you’d been dressed as something a little more impressive than Pete the Cat. 

“Hi, I’m [name],” you said, letting out a slightly nervous huff of laughter. You considered yourself to be relatively chill around people, not usually the awkward type unless they were, but there was something about her… 

Her assessment seemed to end, a less intense look in her eyes as a smile tugged at her lips. “I know. Yuji mentioned you. I… I love your costume,” she said, grinning. Though, it didn’t seem like she was laughing at you, just amused. You couldn’t help but laugh along, even if for just a moment. The air seemed to calm in that moment, though it was short lived for you, much to your obliviousness.

“Did your other friend not show?” you asked, turning to Yuji. Nobara glanced at him, as if she knew something you didn’t. She looked almost… anticipated? He shook his head, glancing around. “No, he’s here… where’d he go?” he thought aloud, glancing around with a perplexed look on his face. 

He seemed to spot him, his face lighting up. He jumped up and down comically, waving. “There he is. Fushiguro!” 

Your heart fucking sank. Fushiguro? Like… Megumi Fushiguro? You should’ve known. Introvert, history major, grumpy, the convenient way his name was left out of conversations… all of the signs were there, you just hadn’t taken them. 

You went stiff as a board, not daring to look behind you as the sound of approaching footsteps rang through your ears. Everything else seemed to drown out. The music, the endless chatter of drunk college kids, everything except for the steady thump of feet against the ground. His shadow approached before he did, the spikes of his hair sticking up in all directions, swaying softly with the breeze that blew by. 

“Hey. Who’s-“ he began, but his words caught in his throat. In your peripheral, you saw him turn his head in your direction. 

His eyes widened, lips parting. He was fucking blank in the mind, he felt as if the colour had drained from his face. You. It was you, standing in front of him. The person he’d been longing for since he was fifteen, the tear that hung inside his soul forever. Yet now, he had no idea what to say. It was rare that Megumi lost his composure, but he felt as though he didn’t even know what that word meant in that moment. 

You swallowed thickly. So he knew who you were, obviously. He did remember you. He was just a little shocked to see a friend from middle school again, right? In the back of your mind, you were half expecting him to get you back for that punch. You—excruciatingly slowly—turned to your side, to the empty space that had been filled by him. “Hi,” you managed to croak out. You finally got a good look at him for what felt like the very first time. He’d matured, obviously, his face more slender and defined. He wore that same spiky hairstyle, had that same look in his eye but… softer. His ears were pierced up, too, as well as his eyebrow. It suited him, it suited him too well. He was a spitting image of his past self, just more mature, more handsome, and less fiery. You were almost getting distracted now, you were sure you were staring. Luckily, Yuji (sort of?) was there to save the day. 

He slung an arm around your shoulders, smiling. “This is my friend [name]! I told you about her,” he said, but there was something that lied beneath. A boyish cockiness of sorts. Oh. He knew. He fucking knew. 

You hummed, nodding. “Yep. I’ll uh, I’ll be right back, ‘kay? Gonna get a drink.” You waved your empty cup gently in front of Yuji’s face, slithering out of his grasp and back into the frat house. A pair of eyes followed you the whole way in, their heat lingering with you even after disappearing through the door. An all too familiar, yet all too foreign gaze. 

The moment you were out of sight, Megumi seemed to snap out of his little daze. He turned back to Yuji and Nobara, and when met with the guilty looks on their faces, Yuji was hit so hard that cartoon birds started circling around his head. He was seeing stars. “What the fuck?!” Megumi gritted, though Yuji couldn’t actually answer, it seemed that Megumi had knocked him stupid. Or rather, stupider. 

The drinks went down much easier after that. Soon enough, you were doing beer pong with Yuji while a tense Megumi lingered in the background, along with Nobara who chose to sip on her overly fruity drink and observe. She got drunk on her own terms. The two of you were stumbling around, missing the damn cups every single time, your vision doubling from how much alcohol you’d ingested. It was the only thing that made Megumi’s presence less scary, less… unnerving. Damn, you really were just like your mother. Everything else was a blur, just Yuji and the bright purple lights and the ravenette boy in the corner that you just couldn’t ignore. Maybe a couple more shots and you wouldn’t be afraid. But… what were you afraid of? Him, or what he brought out in you? 

Taglist !¡ —

@meowymeowbreow @1l-ynn @kiss-my-asscheeks @missunrise @starrysho @good-mourning0 @gumims @beaniesayshi @mrowwww @luvvmae @megumislovedoll

Wrote ts in one sitting and didn’t proofread icl guys why am I lwk flopping smh its aight chat oh also sorry about the little mother callout thing that sorta uh… slipped!

[seoll3miwrites]

Zero Suit | Fem! Y/N x Josh Washington *Smut*

Masterlist When Y/N attends her long time crush Josh's party, she makes a plan to dress up especially from him. When she meets him at the party, tension quickly rise and she finds herself getting everything she ever hoped for. (WC: 3404 ) Song used: Into you - Ariana Grande

Warnings: Smut, AFAB! Reader, Alcohol, Drunk Sex

AN: This the first Smut I've ever written so please don't mind if it's a bit lackluster. Set in an AU where Beth and Hannah lived

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N adjusted the arms of her body suit as she walked up to the Washington’s house. She walked next to her best friend Sam as they approached the door. Colour lights were flashing, and a sea of bodies could be seen from the windows outside.

“Do we even bother knocking?” Sam asked while smirking, her hands on her hips.

Y/N shrugged before reaching forward to grab the handle, twisting and watching the door open with ease, “Guess not.”

The two held hands and stepped inside, closing the door behind them. Sam took the lead and guided Y/N through the crowds and into the kitchen, where The Washingtons usually kept the drinks. As they entered, the distinctly slurred voice of an already drunk Chris greeted them.

"Hey, you guys finally made it!” He approached them and pulled them into a little group hug. “I thought I’d have to survive here all by my lonesome.”

The two girls laughed at their friend, even more so at his peculiar costume. “Are you wearing an ascot, Chris?” Y/N asked playfully, flicking at the orange piece of fabric wrapped around his neck.

“Ah well… it was Ashley’s idea,” he explained, pointing to the outfit Ashley was dancing in the crowd; the purple outfit alongside the green headband made it clear who she was dressed as.

"Wow, couples outfits already,” Y/N continued to tease, “I’m impressed, Chris.”

“Oh yeah, well, what exactly made you pick your costume then, huh?” He teased back in return, a blush forming on her face as a result.

The truth is she’d pick her outfit based on one night a few weeks ago when they were all comparing different childhood crushes. The group had all been sitting in the basement when Mike had brought it up. The conversation had quickly devolved into the boys comparing all the women they found hot, specifically video game characters.

“I’m a fine of the classics,” Josh had proudly exclaimed. “I’m kind of ashamed none of you have mentioned Samus. I mean, have you seen her in that blue suit she wears?”

At the time, Y/N had rolled her eyes while the other girls complained to the boys and forced them to change the topic. Yet, when the time came to plan her Halloween costume, her mind instantly went back to that one thing Josh had said. It wasn’t as hard to find the costume as she thought it would be, and so here she stood, leaving nothing to the imagination as the blue bodysuit clung to her body.

“Shut up, Chris,” she chastised him before turning to the kitchen counter and began fixing herself a drink. Her and Sam had drank together as they were getting ready, so she was already slightly tipsy.

“I still can’t believe me and Ash got together before you even confessed to Josh,” he shook his head in mock disappointment.

“Chris I swear to God I will throw you in the pool!” She threatened, Chris placing his hands up in mock surrender.

"Chris, come on, lay off; you know what it's like to have a crush on one of our friends.” Sam spoke up in your defence. Chris looked shameful for a moment and offered you a genuine apology.

“It’s okay,” Y/N hugged him again before noticing Ashley's wandering eyes on the dance floor. “Now go dance with your girlfriend.” She pushed him away in the direction of Ash, smiling as she watched the two hug when they reached each other.

She turned back to the corner and poured her and Sam some drinks while the blonde texted on her phone. Sam thanked her when Y/N passed her the drink before speaking, "Hey, listen, I’m going to go find Hannah; you wanna come?”

“I think just gonna chill here for a bit, you go.” She replied, and after a second reassurance to Sam that 'yes, it was definitely okay.', the blonde left the kitchen in search of her best friend.

Now by herself, Y/N leaned against the kitchen counter and glanced around the party for people she recognised. Chris and Ashley were still on the dance floor holding each other close, and next to them dancing a little more erotically were Jess and Mike. She hadn’t seen Emily and Matt yet, but knowing Emily, she had probably dragged him to the hot tub.

With her eyes focused on the crowd around her, Y/N didn’t see the person slowly creeping next to her. Sliding close, they leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Boo!”

She jumped with a small scream and whipped her head around, coming face to face with the new person. “Josh!” She yelled at him as he laughed, “Don’t do that!”

“Sorry, sorry, I just couldn’t help myself,” he apologised but was still laughing, leaning on the kitchen counter. Josh looked good; he was in a surprisingly simple jean and white t-shirt combo but had topped it off by covering himself in fake blood.

“So who are you supposed to be?” Y/N asked, moving past his little scare.

Instead of answering, he pulled a small white device from his pocket and lifted it to his mouth before speaking, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” It seems the device he was using was a voice modulator that deepened Josh’s voice.

"Oh, Billy Loomis!” She pointed at him as she realised, “You look so cool.”

“Thanks,” He replied before looking at her in a way Y/N couldn’t figure out, “You look... well, you lot hot, Y/N.”

She blushed and smiled shyly, "Thanks.”

There was an almost uncomfortably long moment of silence between the two; they both looked away awkwardly, each drawing a long sip from their drinks, “Are you... do you like the party?” Josh broke the party while looking at her expectedly.

“Um yeah!” She replied, and she turned to look at him, “You always know how to plan them.”

“Do you wanna go join Chris and Ash?” He offered gesturing to the dance floor with his thumb.

“Sure.” Y/N allowed Josh to take her hand and lead her onto the dance floor; although they didn’t find Chris and Ashely, they still stayed in the centre of the dance floor.

The crowd cheered as the next song played, and couples quickly gravitated to each other, Y/N blushing as she realised what the song was. However, the drinks were catching up, and her body relaxed as she kept dancing unashamedly.

I'm so into you

I can barely breathe

As she turned slightly as she danced, Y/N felt some hands tentatively reach out and hover by her hips.

And all I wanna do

Is to fall in deep

Turning around, she came face-to-face with Josh. He was looking intently at her eyes, hooded with an unreasonable expression on his face.

But close ain't close enough.

'Til we cross the line,

Before she could lose her nerves, she placed her hands on his and guided them so he was touching her hips. 

So name a game to play.

And I'll roll the dice.

She began to gently sway, allowing the gentle rhythm to control her movements. Josh kept a hold on her hips, slowly stroking her side in circular motions as he continued to watch her.

Oh, baby, look what you started.

The temperature's rising in here.

Y/N looked up at Josh, her stomach twisted as she made eye contact with his intense stare. She started to gently sing along to the words as she maintained eye contact, almost gasping as Josh pulled her closer.

Is this gonna happen?

Lifting her arms, she placed them around his shoulders, linking her hands at the back of his neck before pulling him even closer. Y/N continued to sing along, allowing Josh to feel her breath on his skin.

Been waiting and waiting for you to make a move.

Before I make a move

He paused as he listened to the lyrics she was singing, a spark of hope passing through him as he looked at her carefully. “Are you sure?”

“Uh huh” is the only sound she can make out of before pulling him forward and slamming her lips to his. The moment her lips touch Josh’s, her whole mind goes blank. His lips are slightly chapped, and he tastes like beer, but all Y/N wants is more.

She feels his hand squeeze her hips as he pulls her even closer; at this point he’s practically leaning over her.  When she gasps into the kiss, Josh takes the opportunity to slide his tongue past her parted lips.

A hand slowly slides from her hips to cup her ass gently. Josh smirked into the kiss as he slowly felt through the thin fabric. “Y/N…” He teases, “Are you not wearing underwear?”

Her face grew hot in embarrassment. "I... the bodysuit was too thin, and I didn’t want them showing.”

"Well, I’m certainly not complaining." Josh replied, giving her ass a rough squeeze, “If anything, it just makes you hotter.”

All Y/N can do in reply is pull him back down into another heated kiss. She whined into the kiss and subconsciously ground herself forward into him. Letting out a strangled moan that was drowned out from the music, Josh pulled back from the kiss so he could whisper in her ears.

“Do you wanna take this somewhere private?” His breath was warm against her ears.

“Yeah.” She lets Josh grab her hand and lead her through the crowd. They left the dance floor and made their way upstairs and walked down a long corridor full of couples just making out. Eventually the pair stopped in front of what she recognised as Josh’s room.

“Gimme me a second,” Josh said before pulling out a key. “Didn’t want any strangers doing it on my bed, so I locked it.”

Y/N leant against the wall, giggling as she watched him struggle with the lock for a moment before he was able to swing the door open. He pushed the door open, flicking the light switch on so the room was filled with a dim light. He grabbed Y/N’s hand again, leading her inside and quickly closing the door behind her.

As soon as the door was shut, he pushed her against it, pinning her there with his body as his lips found her neck. He started kissing and gently biting at her skin, smirking into her skin at the little whines she made.

“You have no idea... how much I’ve thought about doing this.” He whispered into her skin, causing shivers to spread through her body.

She pushed him backwards towards the bed and shoved him so he was sitting on the edge of it. “I think I might be able to guess,” she spoke seductively, and she carefully kneeled in front of him.

He leaned back against his elbows as he watched her, his eyes trailing down her body slowly. She leant forward and slowly moved her hands from his thighs up to his crotch, smirking at him as she felt his arousal through his jeans.

“I turn you on that much?” Y/N asked him as her hands absentmindedly stroked him through his clothes.

"Mhm," he hummed out, biting his lower lip slightly. Josh's hands gripped at the sheets, his hips slowly rocking against her hands as a quiet moan left his lips.

She giggled in pleasure at his reaction to her touch, moving her hands to his belt as she fiddled with the buckle. Once the belt was undone, Y/N quickly undid his jeans so she could pull them down, struggling slightly from her position.

Josh lifted his hips as much as he could to make it easier for her; once they were at his ankles, she lifted his feet to pull them off completely. Now only in his boxers, she went back to palming his arousal.

“Fuck Y/N!” He moaned, the feeling of her hands more noticeable through the thin fabric. “You gotta stop, or this is gonna be very disappointing for the both of us.”

When she didn’t stop, he reached down to grab her wrists to pull her hand away. His eyes were closed as he tried to catch his breath, still holding on to her wrist. “Shit… just gimme a minute.” Josh said between breaths.

Y/N pulled her wrist away from his grasp and stood up, moving close to him. She lifted his chin so he was looking at her. Without looking away, she moved even closer to straddle his legs. His hands moved to rest on the upper part of her thighs.

Josh leant forward so their lips touch, pulling back away she followed, lips still connected in a heated kiss. Y/N placed her hand behind his neck before dragging them up and into his hair, causing him to groan against her mouth. She rocked herself against him, gasping as she was able to feel his cock against her pussy between the two thin layers between them.

He hissed from the contact, wrapping one arm tightly around her hip so he could push her closer. His free hand moved from her thigh, gripping the back of your head and tangling itself into her hair.

“Fuck… I need you.” She said between kisses and small moans before pulling away to yank his jumper above his head, which he gladly raised his arms to help with.

In a quick motion, Josh picked Y/N up and turned to put her on the bed. He crawled on top of her so his body rested over hers, one hand gripping her hip, as the other rested above her head as he propped himself up.

“Wait!” She said as Josh started kissing the shell of her ear. “I need to take off the bodysuit.”

He laughed in her ear before responding, “You said you weren’t wearing any underwear right?”

“Yeah… why?”

Josh slowly pushed away from her ear and moved back to look Y/N  in the eyes, an evil smirk slowly forming on his face.

"Well, in that case..." He leaned back further, slowly sliding down her body and kneeling on the bed, “Spread your legs.”

She looked at him suspiciously but still slowly spread her legs for him. He moved further down on the bed, sitting back on his heels so he was level with her hips. He let his fingers slide along her thighs slowly, but then suddenly gripped the thin fabric of her bodysuit and pulled. Y/N's eyes grew wide as she heard a loud rip and felt the cold air on her now bare skin.

“Josh!” She yelled at him, earning a simple smirk in reply. Y/N was about to chastise him but was cut off by her own moan, caused by Josh’s tongue now massaging her folds.

He smiled and hummed into your folds at the sounds you made, causing you to moan louder from the vibration and reach down to pull his face closer. “Josh… please… oh fuck.”

Josh was relentless; as he continued to lap up her juices, he used his fingers to gently rub circles into her clit. His other hand then moved in to her entrance as he slowly inserted a single finger and slowly began to thrust into her.

“I-I’m gonna…” Y/N could barely speak as she was hitting her peak.

“Do it, lemme taste you.” He pulled back to speak before moving back, this time inserting a second finger as he licked. It was too much for Y/N, as she orgasmed not long after. She was thankful the music was so loud downstairs; hopefully it drowned out the sound of her scream.

“Mmhm,” Y/N barely heard Josh through her euphoria. “This might be my favourite taste.”

He lifted his head up from between her legs and looked into her eyes, asking a question without talking. Understanding what he meant, Y/N noted and allowed him to slide himself back on top of her. He paused for a moment, throwing of his boxers, reaching across to his bedside drawer, and pulled out a condom, making sure it was on, before he fully propped himself up above her.

“Are you sure?” He asked verbally this time, giving her a chance to back out as he lined himself up with her cunt.

“Please just fuck me.”

“With pleasure.” With that, he carefully inserted himself, closing his eyes in pleasure, “Shit Y/N, you’re so tight.”

He went slowly, giving her a chance to readjust to his size, stopping once he was fully inserted. Eventually Y/N started moving her hips to his in little thrusts, “I need you to move.”

Slowly he pulled his cock out of her cunt almost to the tip before suddenly slamming himself back, causing Y/N’s back to arch as she screamed out in pleasure. As he found his rhythm, she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, creating a new angle that allowed him to go deeper.

"Fuck, shit.. go faster." She could barely speak between moans, as she felt the pressure building again.

Josh happily obeyed her and picked up the pace, slamming into her harder and faster. They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment before Y/N pulled him down into a heated kiss as his thrusts continued.

A low moan escaped Josh's lips as their lips met once more. Neither of them were thinking clearly anymore, too consumed in their own primal lust. He wanted her, all of her.

He pulled out for a moment, gripping her bodysuit from where he’d torn it previously. His muscles tensed as he pulled it apart again; it split upwards, exposing her entire front. With some quick manoeuvring, Josh was able to pull her arms and legs out of the tight fabric, leaving her completely naked.

“Oh god, Y/N, you’re so fucking beautiful." He said before entering her cunt again, thrusting far more erratically than before. When Josh felt his arms begin to give, he held onto Y/N’s waist and flipped them so she was now on top. “Ride me, baby.”

She took a breath, readjusted herself, and slowly began to rock. The feeling of Y/N slowly rocking over him caused a low moan to escape his lips, his fingers digging into her hips.

“Josh… I think gonna cum..." Y/N moaned out as the pressure increased again, indicating she was near her peak.

“Me too… Just keep moving,” he groaned out, pushing her down onto him by her hips. She moved faster and faster, chasing the high that she knew was coming.

Y/N threw her head back as her second orgasm ripped through her; she heard Josh groan as her cunt clenched around his cock. He came not soon after, the tightness causing him to spill into the condom. When she came down from her orgasm, she collapsed on top of him; her body felt numb, and she could barely catch her breath.

After pulling out of her, Josh gently pushed Y/N of him so she was lying at her side. “Just lay there a sec; I’ll be right back.”

She watched him stand from the bed, still completely naked, and make his way into his bathroom. He came back moments later with two glasses of water and a towel draped over his shoulder.

“Here, sit up and drink.” Josh said as he gave her his hand to help pull her upwards before handing her one of the glasses. As she drank, he parted her legs again and tenderly wiped her with the towel, making sure she would be comfortable in the morning.

Once he finished wiping her, he moved to his drawer and pulled out a T-shirt and two boxers. Josh walked back over to Y/N and helped her place his shirt over her shoulders and slide his boxers over her legs. After putting the second pair of boxers on himself, he lay back down next to her.

“Shouldn’t you get back to the party?” She asked as Josh pulled her to his side. “You are the host after all.”

“Nah, Hannah and Beth can deal with the guests,” he replied, pulling the covers over the both of them. “I much prefer this to any party.”

When she hummed in agreement and closed her eyes, Josh smiled softly and leant down to kiss her head before also closing his eyes. They could hear the muffled beat of the party still happening downstairs as they both slipped into sleep, Y/N resting her head on his chest as he held her close.

[weaselandfriends]

BanG Dream! Ave Mujica (anime)

It's 2008, and Doug Walker is confused.

The famous film critic is doing a ten-year retrospective on Pokémon: The First Movie (1998). While watching the opening scene, in which a group of scientists explore a jungle, he poses a series of questions: "What are those things? Who are you? Where are we? What's that thing? Where am I? Is this Earth? Are we in another dimension? Is this the past? The future? The present? What's going on?! Where does this even take place?! Oh, my God, I'm, like, one minute into this movie, already I'm totally lost!"

To Walker's credit, Pokémon is a notoriously impenetrable narrative, known for its high complexity and thematic depth. As he explains: "For those of you who don't know what [Pokémon]'s about, I can't help you because nobody knew what the hell it was about. [...] Nobody could follow it. The only people who understood it at all were the kids."

A similar confusion descended upon me as, on the recommendation of several people in my orbit who called it the criminally underrated sleeper hit of the season, I watched the first episode of BanG Dream! Ave Mujica. They compared it to Umineko, Madoka Magica. None of them told me the show is a sequel (to 2023's BanG Dream! It's MyGO!!!!!), nor any other crucial bits of context: that plot details and twists have been foreshadowed via ARG; that there are music videos for the songs the show's band plays, themselves containing oblique hints to the narrative; that the band itself is real, not in the vtuber sense where rigged anime girls bob their heads on stream but in the sense that each character is voice acted by the members of a real five-person band called Ave Mujica that plays live shows in goth costumes.

Oh no, I thought. I've stepped into a bear trap!(!!!!)

My initial confusion mostly stemmed from the show expecting the audience to already know all the characters, not simply the five members of the band Ave Mujica but also the five members of the band MyGO!!!!!, who are the main focus of the predecessor series. There are few establishing shots, few immediate character beats that cause one character to stand out from the rest, and the character designs have the traditional sameface of idol anime, so hair and eye color are often the only notable aesthetic differences between them. I watch a lot of anime, and sameface doesn't usually throw me, but here it was a struggle to tell some characters apart (particularly Ave Mujica's two blonde guitarists, Uika and Mutsumi).

Disorientation can cause one to stop thinking at all, though, even to understand things that are perfectly understandable. The irony of Walker's baffled series of questions about the opening scene of the Pokémon movie is how most of them pertain to the setting, when the scene's setting (the real-world nation of Guyana) never appeared before or since in the franchise; even the most dedicated six-year-old had as much ability to answer questions about it as Walker himself. It's not even important, really, in the scope of the plot. It's a jungle somewhere, some distant land. It's in one scene and disappears forever. But Walker, like most parents of 1998, encountered a few details he couldn't understand (the franchise's foreign-sounding name, the endless array of unique monsters) and gave up trying to understand anything at all.

In Walker's defense, the most insidious aspect of confusion is not knowing what you don't know. A Pokémon fan watches that opening scene, well aware of the typical setting of Pokémon, and thus knows that this jungle setting is someplace new, some foreign locale, something they're not supposed to know. Walker cannot, at a glance, discern that. To him, maybe this jungle is the primary location where the action is set. Maybe he really is at a disadvantage for not being aware of it already.

The trick to understanding Ave Mujica is that the five members of MyGO!!!!! do not matter nearly as much as their screentime suggests. There is some connection, as two members of Ave Mujica (Sakiko and Mutsumi) were previously in a band (CRYCHIC) with three members of MyGO!!!!!, and Sakiko's abrupt and unexplained departure from CRYCHIC is the root of the interpersonal drama between Sakiko and Mutsumi. Otherwise, the MyGO!!!!!ites serve as outsiders to the main drama who look in and occasionally comment on it; not knowing anything about them is fine. Once I figured that out around Episode 3 or 4, the show became generally comprehensible.

I think.

It's 2019, and Doug Walker is confused.

Everyone is. A collective confusion as, during the climax of his avant garde musical reassessment of Pink Floyd The Wall (1982), an anthropomorphic mustelid slithers onto his shoulder while singing a Cockney rendition of "The Trial". Across a series of discombobulated fantasy landscapes, Walker has been regaled by this and several other digital creatures designed with an almost obscene attention to detail, lavish fur and fabric textures far beyond the pale of Walker's more workman-like VFX flair. If there was context, it has been lost in the characters' impenetrable accents and vocal layering. All anyone watching can do is ask:

What are those things? Who are you? Where are we? What's that thing? Where am I? Is this Earth? Are we in another dimension? Is this the past? The future? The present? What's going on?! Where does this even take place?!

Nobody can follow it...

Except Doug Walker. This isn't the reason he's confused. If anything, he is oddly, uncharacteristically accepting of the situation. He is a critic best known for animated facial expressions and wild gesticulations, but here he stands perfectly still almost the entire length of the song, even as the CGI creatures pluck his hat off his head or lift him bodily into the air or toss him into a little spike-studded Doug Cage. His face is stone.

No, this is a Walker who exhibits, at last, mastery over the raw facts of narrative. It is not plot, character, or setting that confuse Walker about The Wall. When he criticizes the song "Another Brick in the Wall Pt. 2", he correctly assesses that the song is about the cruelty of the education system. What he's confused about, lacking the cultural context of British grammar schools in the 1950s, is what this means, how to interpret it. He can only do so in the frame of the suburban American education system he remembers, and so ascribes to the song meaning relevant to that context; namely, that school isn't that bad, that teachers can be nice, and that anti-school youth sentiment is meaningless counterculture. It's a misunderstanding, not of fact, but of heart. "Pretentious," Walker calls it, a word he repeats across the video. Pretentiousness is a fixation of Walker's. He loves the word; he uses it often. It's perhaps the perfect word for a workman-like man like Doug Walker, one of the first true outsiders to achieve success in the democratized media landscape of the internet.

"Pretentious" means the author believes their work possesses more meaning and importance than the critic can derive from it.

This confusion of interpretation struck me too as I watched Ave Mujica, even when I understood on a summary level the plot and characters. In the first episode, one of the few characters to distinctively establish herself is Ave Mujica's drummer, Nyamu, who starts a catty argument with the band's keyboardist and founder, Sakiko. The crux of the argument is simple. Part of Ave Mujica's gimmick as an avant garde act that blends live music with acted skit segments is that its five members wear masks on stage, concealing their identities. Nyamu, in Walkeresque fashion, wants to dispense with this "pretension," claiming to be bored of it. Her true goal is mercenary; she believes, as the only band member who is not already established in the entertainment industry, that publicly associating herself with her more famous bandmates will elevate her personal profile.

Sakiko, for whom this project is an artistic venture of deep psychological importance, rejects her proposal. But Nyamu disregards her bandmates' wishes and forcibly unmasks them at the next concert anyway.

I understood the argument. What I didn't understand was how to feel about it, how interpret Nyamu's role in the story. In a vacuum, I could only imagine she was intended as the show's villain. She is vain, petty, a shameless social climber, self-absorbed, a YouTuber, and also the driver of the initial conflict that causes the other bandmates to spiral psychologically out of control. Beyond that, she is commercial. In my preconceived cultural understanding of "fiction about art," the sellout is the villain, and the person with legitimate artistic vision (in this case, Sakiko) is the hero. The rest of the first episode supports this reading: it focuses on Sakiko's perspective and home life in a way that lends her significant pathos, while Nyamu exists solely to cause her grief.

Yet the rest of the show does not support this reading. When a band member has a schizophrenic break a few episodes later, Sakiko is framed as the core cause, due to her demanding auteurism. Nyamu, who sparked the inciting incident, is never blamed, either by the other characters or by the narrative as she slips away, unregenerate, into a minor and isolated subplot. She never abandons or even interrogates her crass commercialism, and despite being the most replaceable member of the band and the least interconnected to the others' social circle (she appears, actually, to be a college-aged adult while everyone else is a high schooler), nobody suggests she be replaced when the band breaks up and reforms. Nobody demands anything of her at all. Nobody even really seems to see her as a problem.

I love it. I love it when shameless little shits don't get any comeuppance at all. I love Nyamu. (Honestly!)

But how am I supposed to interpret her argument, within the framework of Ave Mujica as a story?

The obvious interpretation is that Nyamu is correct, or at least in wake of the show's ambivalence toward her, not wrong. Cynical commercialism has value, is at least an important consideration for artistic decisions. This interpretation makes sense considering it's the artiste Sakiko who winds up shouldering the blame for the band's internal collapse, but at the same time it's a bizarre proclamation to make in a show that is otherwise so concerned with rendering Sakiko empathically, with exploring her psyche and motivations, and with -- ultimately -- selling the audience her artistry. Ave Mujica, as I explained, is a real band. All the goth flair, the arcane skits, the oblique narrative hints, and the doll symbolism that are core to Sakiko the character's artistic vision are also core to the real-life Ave Mujica the band. It's inconceivable to me that the show is actually dismissing its own aesthetic as "pretentious." Why, then, does its own in-universe Nyastalgia Critic go unchallenged, escape unscathed? What does it mean that these criticisms emerge not from unconnected outsiders (even with five members of MyGO!!!!! right there, with their significantly more down-to-earth, more workman-like band) but from one-fifth of Ave Mujica itself?

What, exactly, is Ave Mujica's identity?

It's 2013, and Doug Walker is confused.

Existentially.

The video is titled "The Review Must Go On," with an ominous subtitle in the vein of End of Evangelion: "Demo Reel Finale." Something, indeed, is coming to an end here, and it isn't just Doug Walker's lifelong passion project.

In this postmodern künstlerroman, Doug Walker stares into a mirror, but what he sees is not Doug Walker. It is his past and it will be his future. (Is this the past? The future? The present? What's going on?!) It is the fixed and unchanging edifice of 18 long years and counting, an entity unstuck from time, who, despite changes to format, site, contemporary taste, and the internet itself, remains immutable. It cannot be denied, cannot be destroyed, can only -- briefly -- be bargained with.

And Doug Walker bargains. "Not every week," he says, staring his down his creation. "Once every two weeks." His creation, only somewhat put off, accedes. (Now, in 2025, it's once a week once more.) A single word: "Done," and the deal is made.

"Alright then," Walker says, with a beleaguered sigh. "What's next?"

The cold voice replies: "I think you know what's next."

Walker does know. He returns to his desk, where he had been typing the script to the Demo Reel Finale, and dutifully writes what he has known all along. Donnie DuPre, the main character of Demo Reel, that lifelong passion project, that original creative work, was always him.

The Nostalgia Critic.

It's a final surrender. There will be no more passion projects. No delusions of artistic accomplishment. None, at least, that don't involve this thing that Doug Walker has become, this thing to which he has given the rest of his life.

This moment mirrors the argument between Nyamu and Sakiko. Though Walker claims otherwise in the video, the decision to revive the Nostalgia Critic is clearly commercial; the Nostalgia Critic is popular, Demo Reel is not. Walker has abandoned his artistic vision in favor of what sells. Nyamu has won.

Except it's Sakiko, not Nyamu, who makes the demands that the Nostalgia Critic makes of Doug Walker. "I am not going to let this band be just a passing fad," Sakiko says. "I told you. Give me the rest of your life."

Doug Walker is giving the rest of his life to the Nostalgia Critic. Is trapped by it. As Ave Mujica progresses, its members become similarly ensnared. I claimed previously that Nyamu is never punished by the narrative, never challenged by the other band members or blamed for her actions, nobody ever attempts to get her replaced, but the opposite side of that coin is that she is incapable of getting herself replaced despite her desire to use the band as a stepping stone for a personal career. Though she gains industry connections via a bandmate's actress mother, she is crippled by the memory of one of Ave Mujica's most perplexing images, an image that similarly left me at an utter loss: the guitarist Mutsumi, collapsed in a disassociating stupor, on stage before an audience of thousands.

This moment is the beginning of Mutsumi's character arc, in which she is consumed by her band persona, Mortis, in a literalized split-personality storyline that itself has obvious parallels to Doug Walker's relationship with the Nostalgia Critic in The Review Must Go On. What fascinates me about this moment, though, is the reaction of everyone watching. The moment Mutsumi unexpectedly collapses, Sakiko deftly weaves it into the band's narrative, concocting a story about how the song they were playing lulls the "dolls" (Ave Mujica's band members) into eternal slumber, before abruptly ending the entire concert. The other four members step off the stage, leaving only the collapsed Mutsumi in the spotlight, motionless and silent.

The audience loves it. The band explodes in popularity. It's such a memetic event that the fans become disappointed when it isn't repeated at the next concert; Nyamu suggests that they repeat it, even to the point of showing up to concerts and not playing music at all. "Ignoring the audience's expectations -- what's the point of that?"

Nobody, in or out of the band, reads Mutsumi's collapse as a cry for help.

She can't cry for help. No matter what she does. When the band announces their breakup, she screams hysterically on the stage, even as the other four members are quiet. "Mutsumi was cooking until the end," a social media post later remarks. She has a breakdown on the street, arguing with her split personality in Gollum/Smeagol fashion (complete with camera angles swapping back and forth to indicate her two selves), and though people gather around and film it, the audience's only possible interpretation of the event is that it is a promotional stunt for the band. Even Nyamu, haunted by that image of Mutsumi collapsed in the chair, isn't haunted because of the psychological toll her actions inflicted on her bandmate (and, eventually, primary yuri shipmate), but because she believes Mutsumi was acting, acting so ingeniously that it torments Nyamu she cannot achieve that same level of skill.

Mutsumi is entrapped within the narrative ambiguity of Ave Mujica. Like Doug Walker, everyone watching her is confidently confused, only able to interpret her actions within their own contextual framework.

What is the contextual framework of Ave Mujica, though? It is a Babushka doll of meaning, an anime based on a real band that contains within it contradictory proponents of artistic vision and common-denominator commercialism, that is itself contradictorily artistic -- if my struggle to interpret it is enough to suggest -- and commercial, the way its poetic symbolism about dolls and control is draped on samefaced 3D anime girl models that move stiffly and unconvincingly. But the show is willing to make those 3D models contort their faces into distinctively un-idol-like (distinctively Doug Walker-like) maniacal expressions, to throw them on the ground and scrape open their knees with blood streaming out, to have them hurl each other down the stairs in fits of rage, to pair them in incestuous yuri couplings. The story both gesticulates toward a cynical, darker take on the idol industry like Perfect Blue or Oshi no Ko, yet is part of an established idol franchise selling these characters as actual idols. Even in the narrative, the depiction of the idol industry is confused; the band seems to have no managers, no agents, nobody telling them what to do. They don't even have secretaries; bassist Umiri handles scheduling and itineraries. Men only exist in the world of BanG Dream! as fathers or grandfathers; every behind-the-scenes staffer at the concerts, in fact every concertgoer, is female.

Nyamu is not Akane Yonezawa, Ave Mujica's real life drummer. But both are industry outsiders in their first real role, compared to their four bandmates who are already established. Rich girl keyboardist Sakiko is not Kanon Takao, but Kanon Takao was winning international piano tournaments in Milan at age 10. Where is the line between fiction and reality? How real is this anime, and how fake is this band? How much is the Nostalgia Critic a character, and how much is he Doug Walker with a hat?

And isn't it within this endless array of ambiguity, of questions, of confusion, that Ave Mujica ensnares? "Give me the rest of your life," Sakiko says, but with these ARGs and multimedia comb-over-it-with-a-magnifying-glass details and crossovers with other bands, whose life is she demanding? To the incurious, the Doug Walkers, confusion is enough to dismiss out of hand. But for those who want to know more, there are an endless amount of dolls to open...

Perhaps Walker was right, all those years ago in 2008, to not gaze too deeply into the world of Pokémon. It is a franchise, after all, that has exploited the human instinct toward curiosity to become the highest-selling media property of all time.

("Ignoring the audience's expectations -- what's the point of that?" Nyamu says.)

It's 2021, and Dan Olson is confused.

He is a critic criticizing a critic. In this case, he is criticizing Doug Walker's review of The Wall. Unbelievably, this criticism has over 2 million more views than Doug Walker's The Wall video does. Over twice as many people have seen this criticism than the thing being criticized.

Olson asks:

"What is this? Why does this exist?"

He doesn't know why Doug Walker would do this. Why would he put such elaborate effort into a musical review of The Wall, something Walker barely seems to understand or care about at all, something he only seems to have watched for the first time in preparation for creating the review. Walker's lack of curiosity baffles Olson, particularly because it is balanced against the effort on display in the review itself. How can someone spend months on costumes, visuals, parody lyrics, and celebrity guests, all to call something pretentious?

What Olson doesn't realize is that there is a Doug Walker, wannabe filmmaker, involved in this production, a Doug Walker with -- for better or for worse -- an artistic vision, who is willing to go to great lengths to apply that vision.

But someone else is running the show. Someone to whom Doug Walker has given the rest of his life. He's called the Nostalgia Critic, but, as in Ave Mujica, this avatar of commercial greed is only an abstraction, isn't it? A figment of ambiguity in which all cries for help, no matter how loudly they are screamed, can be extinguished. There's someone else, unseen and unacknowledged, with real control over these dolls, the one who forces them to perform as perfect time capsules, ageless and eternal. I'm not sure what they're called for Ave Mujica, but for Doug Walker, their name can be found with a bit of searching: Mike Michaud.

"Let me show you," says that anthropomorphic mustelid, Lucy Lacemaker, as the first notes of The Trial begin. "Let me show you what happens when your dreams no longer need you."

[getmeoutofhell]

Poly! Ghostface Women x reader headcanons

WARNINGS: this contains every young female ghostface x reader. if you’re uncomfortable leave now for your protection!!

a/n: it seems anon isn’t to fond of amber 😂 i hope you enjoy and leave feedback!! have fun reading!! 💕

How it started:

they stalked you before even approaching you. it was maybe about a month or so before. they use their ghostface tactics to scare you, claiming that you look better scared and afraid. at first they took turns scaring you in costume, but one time they all came after you. they fell in love with your life, and since they wanted to be apart of it, they became friends with you.

during the ghostface killings you sorta isolated yourself in your home. you were terrified to die so soon by someone dressed up, so staying inside was the only choice you thought. they would come over, checking on you almost every day. it has gotten to a point where they’d stay a couple days with you at a time.

lots of writing about you. they have their own group journal where they document your life. pictures of you, clothes of yours, even strands of hair they collect (if you have any.) it’s not just love, it’s obsession with the thought of you. one day amber suggested they ask you to come over. jill was not liking that idea much, claiming that you would find out their evil ways. but after a while they all three went along with it.

“guys, make sure you keep everything hidden completely. just incase she/he has to go in one of our rooms or something i don’t know.” jill stated. “jill chill. our girl/boy will be fine and safe over here. she/he won’t know about ghostface till later.” quinn told her. they had planned on telling you about ghostface in the future. they think you’re different, and won’t run away after knowing.

so once they asked you the come over and you accepted, it was a nice stay. they made you feel at home, offering you anything you needed. for boys: oh goodness they would not stay off you. rubbing against you, messing with your hair, smelling you…😟 for girls: a whole girl sleepover!! pillow fights, makeup (if you wear any), drinking, gossiping, they act like your besties!! 😊

truth be told it was kinda just a tactic they used to have you over with them.

How You Start Dating:

“we should just all date at this point. right y/n?” amber had said. you were taken back but at that point in time you didn’t mind, you started to like all 3 of them at once, and to your knowledge they seemed to like you back. so why not give it a shot??

“i mean…if y’all are down i’m down.”

Relationship Headcanons:

the ghostface girls are a little different (better) than the guys when you live with them. JUST KIDDING!! it’s like hell but on earth unfortunately…☹️ fighting all day.

girl reader: they’re all girl girls so whenever you need something like period products or when you need to wear something of theirs, they have your back always.

the act like if they don’t cuddle you they’ll die. you definitely will be fought over by them. they have a problem with sharing, mostly amber tho. you try to talk to her, but sometimes you think your words go through one ear and out the other. not like you really care but still.

VERY OVERPROTECTIVE of you. you are theirs, so umm…you can’t do a lot. i’m sorry. ☹️ they don’t like when other boys or girls get near you, it triggers them hella. it could be your friend and they’ll still question your actions and theirs, causing a argument to insure.

the three of them have their own disagreements as well, sometimes cat fights happen. it’s mostly between amber and quinn. they’ll yell at each other all day if you weren’t there to stop them. it’s hard to stop them, but 5 minutes later they’ll understand and quit the bickering. “listen my angels, i love you all so much and i’m gonna need to guys to stop this arguing, okay?”

they do in fact keep the house clean (mostly) jill hates a dirty house, so you don’t really have to worry about a dirty place :)

some time after you guys start dating and getting used to everything, you end up finding out about ghostface. they didn’t tell you yet, but you found out because you put two and two together with clues. for some reason you didn’t freak out or get scared. you sat down next to them, they looked at you. “you know huh?” jill had said. “yes i do.” you give a light smile. “you’re not gonna run away then right?” amber asked you. “no.” it wasn’t a lie you were gonna stay with them, despite their sick and twisted ways.

girl reader: there would be times they would go out with you on dates, you guys would wear beautiful dresses (or whatever you’d prefer), and would go somewhere fancy and nice just for some alone time. “you guys are so beautiful.” “not as beautiful as you angel.”

boy reader: when you guys go out they pick out your tuxedo (or whatever you’d prefer) and make sure everything is ready. they call you handsome so much and won’t ever stay off of you. “our handsome man.”

[zablife]

Benny Takes You Cruising on Halloween

Benny Cross x female reader

A/N: Benny takes you cruising late on Halloween night, requested by @theycametoconquertheearth53. Part of my Corrupt a Wish challenge.

Warnings: dark!Benny, drinking, stalking, kidnapping Corrupt a wish reminder: If you think this story has a happy ending, you haven't been paying attention. Proceed with caution!

Benny was always running away. Something in the steady rhythm of a humdrum life in the suburbs had never agreed with him. As a teenager he'd left his parents behind, swearing never to return. But the big city hadn't treated him well, a hungry stomach and soul made worse by a cruel world. It hadn't been the adventure he hoped and his bright blue eyes began to dull from constant disappointment.

That is, until the day he spotted you at the soda fountain. Craning his neck to find the source of carefree laughter, he watched you swing your ponytail and sip a milkshake. The sight of your shapely figure made his heart throb.

Sitting up straighter in the booth, he tried to ignore the jukebox competing for attention in the corner. And when he picked out your voice over the strains of the music, he held his breath just to listen. Your words sounded as angelic as the pleasant ring of your laugh and he became infatuated with it in a matter of minutes.

Twirling the straw in your glass, you were oblivious to the dirty biker eavesdropping on your conversation. You had more pressing things on your mind, like what you were going to wear to the Pi Kappa Alpha Halloween party. "Do you really like the pink? I thought red would be sexier," you admitted to your friends, biting your lip as a naughty smile pulled at the corners of your mouth.

"You're not going to dress up?" your friend Linda asked, pushing her ice cream away in a childish pout. "Last year everyone loved our group costume," she argued.

"We're seniors now," you reminded her with a wink. "Time to get serious."

"I agree," Jenny replied with a firm nod, all business when it came to the topic of boys. "I'm attending to find my future husband, not bob for apples."

"Can't we do both?" Linda asked hopefully.

Wrapping an arm around Linda, you pulled her close as you whispered, "Don't worry, I intend to!"

Another eruption of giggles came from the counter as you rose to gather your school books. The dark green ribbon adorning your ponytail fell to the ground like a leaf drifting from a tree as your hips swished, sauntering off into the blinding afternoon sunlight.

The bell above the door rang out just as Benny's heavy boots thudded across the floor. When he reached the spot where you sat moments earlier, he bent down to pick up the soft velvet with callused fingertips. He couldn't resist the urge to draw the material across his cheek, inhaling the floral notes of your perfume as it passed under his nostrils. He only snapped out of his trance when he saw the waitress reappear to collect the coins off the counter in front of him.

"Hey, you know where the Pi Kappa Alpha house is?" he demanded.

Hands resting at her hips, she studied him with disdain. "And why would you need to know that?"

Benny narrowed his eyes, but tried to remain civil as he held up the ribbon. "Just wanna return that girl's hair ribbon is all," he explained.

The waitress attempted to swipe it from him, but he jerked it away just in time. Holding her gaze, he spoke in a low, serious tone. "A gentleman would give it back."

"You ain't no gentleman," she snorted.

As Benny reached the outermost limits of his patience, he pulled a switch blade from his jacket and held it before her terrified face. "You're right," he conceded with a dangerous look in his eye, metal gleaming in his hand. "That's why you should answer me."

---------------

Halloween 1965

Benny had camped out all night in anticipation of the party being held by the fraternity brothers down the street. He figured it was a small price to pay for seeing someone as lovely as you waltz back into his life. His diligence was soon rewarded as he glimpsed you teetering down the walk in impossibly high heels and a crimson red dress. "Look fuckin' perfect," Benny hummed under his breath.

Flicking his cigarette onto the pavement, he exhaled a large plume of smoke which obstructed his face. Hands jammed into the pockets of his faded Levi's, he stalked after you, half hidden by the flickering street lamp.

"One smoke and I'll be right back," you'd cooed at your boring date before he allowed you out of his sight. However, now you wondered if that had been such a good idea. Your vision fuzzy from the alcohol you'd consumed, you couldn't help but stumble as you dug into your purse for your cigarettes. Children dressed as ghouls and goblins brushed past you, making you sway unsteadily.

Your skirt still swooshed in their wake as an unfamiliar man approached. "Kids," you shrugged.

"Yeah, kids," Benny echoed with a wide smile. Then noticing your unlit cigarette he offered, "Need a light?"

You nodded in appreciation, leaning forward as he cupped his other hand around the flame.

"Thanks," you mumbled with your first exhale.

"No problem," he answered, staring intently into your eyes.

Tilting your head to study him, you noticed his rugged good looks. He wasn't like the boys inside who all reminded you of your father. Stable and predictable, they weren't half as interesting as the man who was offering you a ride on his motorcycle now.

"So you wanna come with me or what?" he asked in a seductive whisper.

"I don't know..." you hesitated all of a sudden, eyes flicking to the bike and back to your new dress.

Benny chuckled as he assured you, "I'll go slow."

You thought for a moment as you dropped the cigarette to the ground and pressed it under your toe slowly. A shriek of excitement issued forth from the kids trick-or-treating across the street and you laughed at their enthusiasm. That's when you realized this was the safest night you could choose for such an adventure with so many people out and about. "Alright, let's go," you agreed, taking his hand as he helped you cross the street.

Heart thumping against your rib cage, you allowed Benny to help you onto his bike. He smirked to himself as your fingers curled around his jacket, squeezing tightly against his waist the moment he accelerated away from the curb.

The wind in your hair felt exquisite, the cool air a welcome feeling on your burning cheeks. Am I drunk? you wondered before relaxing against Benny's strong frame and resolving to enjoy the ride.

As soon as the houses of the neighborhood began to fade into the distance you furrowed your brow in confusion. "Where are we going?" you asked over the roar of the engine.

"You'll see," came his cryptic reply.

Your insides stirred at the promise, taking in the sights of the city before he exited onto the highway. "Wait," you objected, but he couldn't hear you, zooming into oncoming traffic with shocking speed.

"You...you said you'd go slow," you shrieked into his ear.

He turned his head slightly and nodded as though he'd heard your complaint. Then he fell in line with a group of bikers.

Much to your chagrin, they soon flanked both sides, whooping and whistling at you. The display unnerved you, breath coming in short spurts as you squeezed your eyes shut against their hungry looks and lewd hand gestures.

Sensing your tension, Benny reached a hand back to stroke your leg, lifting your dress to expose your bare thigh. The other bikers leered back at you, grease stained hands gripping the handles of their motorcycles harshly and you wondered what they would be capable of if they caught you.

Benny's head tilted back, a wolf cry leaving his triumphant lips. As soon as it met your ears, you cowered in fear, knowing this had all been a big mistake."D-do you know them?" you asked, afraid of the answer.

"Course I do," he called back to you with a devilish grin. "We're all gonna have a real good time tonight."

"We going to a party or something?" you asked suspiciously, pressing into him for safety.

Benny's cock stirred the moment you began to hiss into his ear, using all his self control not to pull off the road and take you there. However, he knew the Vandals' rules well. Everyone shared on the first night.

------------

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[dilemmaontwolegs]

i know u have a gazillion requests but what if we spice up that Carlos fic? if you decide to do a pt 3. maybe Carlos is once again is frustrated because of the penalty after a good quali and has sex with Rebecca cuz he can't find the model. a lil angst

It’s no secret, I’m in an angsty kinda writing mood at the moment 😅 I also forgot who was meant to be the toxic one...and now it's both of them.

Lady in Red (3) || CS55

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, cheating, manipulation WC: 1.5k

One || Two || Three || Four

You had been called away to work just before qualifying finished. You and half a dozen other models were asked to stand behind the top three drivers and wave feather fans for the cameras while an Elvis impersonator pumped out his signature dance moves. 

From your position you could see the frustration on Carlos’ face. He had qualified second fastest yet he was going to have to start from 12th on the grid. You weren’t the only person in the area upset by the 10 place penalty and the Ferrari supporters were making their opinion known as they chanted for Carlos.

“Alright, sweethearts, we need you over at the Bellagio for some promo shots and then you’re free for the night,” one of the headset-clad organisers said to the group you were with before checking her watch. “Or should I say morning.”

The drive back from the Bellagio to the paddock seemed to take hours with the road closures and checkpoints, but finally you made it back. Knowing Carlos would be waiting somewhere for you, you scanned each floor to find him before heading straight to the top.

“Fuck, mi amor, this is what I need,” Carlos moaned. 

You froze at the sordid scene you had walked in on. Neither one saw you in the doorway of the darkened room, their backs to you as Carlos bent Rebecca over the desk and pounded into her. He curled her hair around his fist and pulled back so to expose the pleasure painted on her face. 

You didn’t even notice you were crying until a droplet fell from your cheek to land on your breast, the feather girl outfit he enjoyed on full display. You suddenly hated how exposed you felt in the ridiculous costume. It was almost as ridiculous as you - for thinking a man like him could change. 

“Take it, cariña, take it,” he stammered as you recognised the pinch of his brow. He was close. He was close to finishing and you were more than done with seeing it. 

You were conscious of your footsteps as you retreated from the room and descended downstairs. You just needed to make it to your dressing room so you could get your stuff and go. 

“Hey,” Charlotte called out as she caught your arm and pulled you to a stop with a friendly smile. “Carlos was looking for you earlier. Did you find him?”

“Yeah, I did,” you whispered, quickly wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Don’t bother drafting up the breakup post.”

Her smile dimmed as confusion replaced it. “What breakup post?”

“Huh,” you laughed humorlessly as you shook your head at your stupidity. “The one Carlos clearly didn’t talk to you about. God, I am a fucking idiot.”

You left the track, heading straight back to your hotel room and before you even reached the room you saw Carlos’ name come up on your phone. You sent him straight to voicemail, again and again.

You barely slept as you thought about how humiliated you felt. You wanted to get him back but you weren’t innocent yourself. You knew your career would be over if you outed the relationship you had with Carlos, even if it made you feel better momentarily. No, you weren’t going to bloody your hands for him, there was already a stain on your soul for what you had knowingly done.

You were a survivor and you were smarter than your recent actions showed. You knew things about Carlos that he had been foolish enough to share in the unburdened state that came after sharing his bed. You were going to use it to your advantage and do what you did best, be the envy of every man.

You had turned your phone off when you arrived at the paddock for the race but it was going to be impossible to ignore Carlos when you were assigned to the Ferrari team. 

“Stacy, swap with me?” you begged as she waited for Charles to escort him to the grid. “Pleeeease.”

“Whatever, French boys aren’t my thing anyway,” she said with a grin before heading next door to Carlos’ side. 

“I’m not French,” Charles corrected as he stepped out of his room. “I’m Monégasque.”

“Today, you’re pole,” you said with a grin as you offered your elbow out to him. “Ready to go?”

You didn’t glance in Carlos’ direction as you accompanied Charles out onto the grid. You didn’t even have to fake enjoying the company as you found the Monégasque had a good sense of humour and made you laugh the entire way. 

From the slamming of Carlos’ car door you knew you were getting to him. Carlos’ fear was losing to his team mate and he was sick of always being compared to Charles Leclerc. 

Carefully angling the feather fan to hide your faces from the jealous driver, you leant in and wished Charles good luck for the race. To the fans, you were clearly talking, but to Carlos? He would always think the worst.

Charles was high with adrenaline when he arrived at the Bellagio after coming second place. It wasn’t the win he was obviously hoping for but you could see how happy he was with the result. 

“So, you like Charles now, huh?” Stacy whispered as she stood as you did, a fake smile on your faces as you lined the interview stage. 

You cast her a quick side glance and winked. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“I know why you wanted to swap, Carlos acts like a fucking baby. He practically trashed his garage after Charlotte spoke to him about something. God, I wish I could have heard what that conversation was about.”

“Hmm, me too,” you said with a sick sense of delight as the interviews wrapped up. “Oh, finally, almost time to party.”

“You must be happy, proving Carlos wrong,” you teased Charles as you escorted him back to the Rolls Royce he arrived in. 

His steps faltered and he slowed his walk as his other podium finishers drifted further ahead. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s been telling everyone how much better a driver he is compared to you,” you stated with a shrug. It was an exaggeration, you had overheard him complaining to his father in the garage. “But you showed him.”

“A better driver?” Charles scoffed. “He is full of shit.”

He seemed to be in deep contemplation as he walked silently, until he reached the car and turned to you. “You should come to the after party.”

Carlos had already added you to the invite list but you smiled and batted your lashes as Charles. “Are you asking me?”

He blushed and laughed at himself as he nodded. “Would you like to come to the after party with me?”

“You don’t have a girlfriend do you?”

“No,” he laughed warmly. “I wouldn’t be asking to take you if I did.”

“Then I would love to go with you.” You gave him your room number that was conveniently in the same hotel as him, since both Ferrari drivers stayed in the same one. 

You already had the perfect dress waiting in your room and as you stood in front of the mirror you had to admit you looked stunning. The red dress was tailored to your body and the plunging neckline was risque and exactly what you envisioned it to be. You couldn’t wait to see Carlos’ face when you walked into the party on his teammate's arm.

“Hey,” you greeted as you opened the door after the knock, but it wasn’t who you expected to see on the other side. “Carlos, what are you doing here?”

His jaw fell slack, lips parting, as his eyes trailed down your body. “Mios dios, hermosa.”

You held your hand out, planting it on his chest as he stepped forward to kiss you. “Woah there, buddy, not happening.”

“Why not? Why have you been ignoring me?” he asked with genuine confusion.

“I saw you fucking Rebecca last night after Qualifying.”

He looked a little sheepish as he scratched the back of his heated neck. “I couldn’t find you.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better when you call her ‘mi amor’ too?”

“I didn’t mean it, I-I was thinking about you,” his eyes widened as his voice went up a pitch. “I swear.”

You nodded sympathetically as you rubbed his arm. “Of course, like you were thinking about me when you didn’t have that chat with Charlotte. Yeah, I know you didn't, so just go back to your girlfriend.”

“But I want you,” he pouted as he bowed his head and looked up with big brown puppy dog eyes.

“But I don’t want you. Not anymore.” You gave him a push and he ceded the space in your doorway as the  elevator across the hall opened and Charles stepped out looking good in a pair of jeans and a fitted shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow. “Hey handsome,” you greeted him with a smile as you grabbed a black clutch with your phone and money. “Perfect timing.”

“You are breathtaking,” he said after a few blinks to recover from the sight of you. He smiled as he brushed past Carlos to kiss your cheek, ignoring the Spaniard completely. “Ready to go, chérie?”

You took his hand and sent a dark smile in Carlos’ direction as you passed by. “See you around, red man.”

Click here for part four.