#id kill for that shirt too

[kissthebridee]

i really am obsessed with these photos of elton, like genuinely these are SUCH good photos

[ef-1]

🍷<3

[rugretti]

.

[red-dyed-sarumane]

magu needs to make merch with tenshi on it so i can carry her around in my pocket and look at her like a ragged old time coal miner reminding himself of his wife back home that hes doing this for

[xazse]

SUGURU AND SATORU MEETING A CURSED HYBIRD PUPPY!GIRL 😭😭

Tags: Fem!PuppyReader, Hybrid!Reader, Licking, petting, Cursed!Reader, Female reader, the licking isn’t sexual.

PART 2

“Suguru.”

“No”

“Sugruuuuu…”

“Nope”

“Please, please”

“No Satoru, she needs to be exorcized” Suguru quite frankly was sick of this back and forth they’d been doing for the past five minutes, they were sent on a mission to come dispose of a curse that had been bugging the village for a while. After killing the huge thing there were still traces of cursed energy, following the trail led them to this predictable right now. Hiding behind an abandoned house was you: a curse? But some type of Hybrid dog thing? Puppy thing? You looked around their age, human body but what was off about you was your fluffy ears and equally fluffy tail.

But regardless you were still a curse that needed to be killed, Satoru clearly wasn’t seeing that, here he is huddled on the dirty ground with you in his lap, licking at his face whilst giggles fall from his lips. You were far too friendly to be some normal curse, definitely an abnormality, something they should also be reporting to principal Yaga and the higher-ups.

Satoru has a tight hold on your waist, not letting you go but you seem too eager to bury yourself deeper in his hold, he’s cooing at how cute you are, how pretty you look, and how he just wants to “eat you up” Suguru damn near wants to slap some sense into him. Your attire consists of a thin nightgown that stops at your thighs, probably something you found?

“Oh I’m definitely keeping you” Satoru says, “no you definitely aren’t, if I’m saying it’s not possible what makes you think Yaga is?” Suguru shifts his gaze to you who’s staring right back at him. “Don’t listen to him he’s just a big grumpy meanie!” Satoru starts to rub and mess with your tail, instantly your eyes are back on him and so is your tongue, licking all over his face again.

“Stop letting her do that, it’s gross.”

“Suguru just look at her, isn’t she just so darn cute though?” Satoru grabs your cheeks and pinches them together while forcefully turning your head towards his companion. You look at Suguru once again, he genuinely thinks you look a little dumb? Is that even possible? A little line of drool is currently on display with your mouth open. Satoru stands up at his full height and a slight whine can be heard from you.

“Don’t worry I’m not leaving” Satoru helps you stand up and you’re instantly clinging to him again, you can’t reach and lick his face again so you take to cuddling into his chest, smooshing your head all over. He uses a hand to rub at your ears while cooing at you again.

Suguru’s phone rings and the called ID reads Principal. “That’s Yaga, Satoru, we should be leaving now.” Satoru looks at Suguru with puppy eyes, fake tears decorating his lash lines. Suguru visibly sighs out loud before speaking: “listen we won’t exorcize her, but we do have to leave okay?”

They do end up leaving you, a confused look on your face as you clutch onto Satoru’s clothes and attempt to follow them , he gently grabs ahold of your hands and disengages them from his shirt, he feels so bad for leaving you, already had felt a connection with you even with a short time frame.

[nymphomatique]

your nerd miguel fics are so good i didnt even know id like dom!reader this much

imagine slutty!reader getting ready for another party and she's barely wearing anything, pretty tits n ass spilling out of her clothes. she's leaning forward over the vanity to do her make up, and miguel cand help but get distracted from (her) homework, and just looks at her plump ass peeking from under her flimsy skirt. he begs her to let him rub himself on her and with hesitant hands he grips her hips and dryhumps her like a dog in heat

well, yes!

cw: slight dom!fem reader, sub!miguel yall know the vibes, me indulging in fashion for a moment, dry humping, miguel cums in his undies, this one’s a lil sweet i fear, awkward ending soz, edited AND proofread y’all 🙏🏾 (can’t guarantee no mistakes however)

wc: 1.6k

❤︎ a/n: i’m a dirty liar and forgot to upload this yesterday but!! she’s here and she was a labour of love! everyone who survived the great barbie drought of winter 2023-2024 gets a pin and goodie bag at the door. nevertheless, enjoy!! 💋

“hey, four eyes, this dress or should i wear a skirt instead?”

brown eyes you’ve come to know so well, more than you’d like to admit, flit up to meet yours momentarily until they look at the two articles of clothing hanging on hangers between your manicured fingers. in one hand, a mesh cut out dress with a deep plunging neckline, and a khaki mini skirt in the other.

“um, skirt. y-you looked pretty in it when you bought it, so um- you should wear it,” miguel mumbles, a pink tint sweeping its way lightly across his face. you’re feeling particularly sweet on him today. it’s been hard to keep your eyes off him as of recent, his chiseled jaw, thick lips, and who could ever forget the resplendent pools of brown that takes form of his eyes. eyes that make your face heat up, setting your body ablaze and feeling feverish under the slightest of glances.

he’s classically handsome, that much you won’t deny, as much as it kills you.

you silently take his suggestion in heed, quietly stripping in front of him to change into the skirt he suggested, and pulling on a black long sleeved crop to to match. you silently lament on the memory of the day you bought the skirt, how you had dragged miguel by his shirt alongside you that day to the mall to sit and watch you buy clothes at any and every store, designer or department, and shuck your bags into his strapping arms. you had wandered into miu miu, miguel trailing not too far behind you with your bags from blumarine, versace, cavalli and more comfortable in his hands. he sat patiently in the waiting chairs as you picked up an array of shirts and skirts and accessories, until you were ready to try them on. miguel sat and watched as you said no and turned your nose up at nearly everything until you tried on a khaki skirt, sitting so low on your hips the straps of your red thing peeking above the waistband.

you turned and twirled in the mirror, admiring the skirt on yourself until you turned to miguel himself, walking up to him as he’s sat to ask him, “you like it?” and like it he does, a hefty hand trailing up from your thigh to your hip, tapping your your hip softly. “you know i do, baby,” and you giggle at his answer, twirling for him before walking back the dressing room to change, not before biting your lip and beckoning miguel to follow at your heels with a pink painted acrylic nail. and follow he does, because he’s such a good boy.

you feel roused at the memory of your dressing room quickie in the same skirt you’re wearing now. and you’re sure miguel feels the same, and you don’t miss the opportunity to provoke him at any moment.

you bend over, slow but curt, fixing up your makeup in your large vanity while your ass sits out in direct display, the short fabric of the skirt lifting as you bend. your black thong is made visible as you bend and wiggle you hips. you steal small glances in the mirror to where miguel is on your bed, sitting in a sea of linear calculus books, and sure enough the methods of linear are long forgotten to focus on your exposed backside. you giggle and turn your head to look at him, and his lips purse when he realizes he’s been caught. before he can sputter anything out, you stand and turn to him and ask him, “see something you like, dontcha?”

a silent swallow and a nod is miguel’s response, his growing erection answer enough for you.

“beg me for what you want.”

and there’s a brief fleeting moment after the words leave your lips. an unspoken fervour in the air, perhaps a mix of what hasn’t been said and all that’s left to say about the two of you. you feel hot, your gaze burning through miguel’s clothes, burning his skin all the way across the room. you want him, you want him, you want him. and he’s looking back at you, a subdued but still present lust in his eyes. you see the submission, his compliance. yes, mistress.

his knees hit the floor, and then his rough palms follow suit and he’s crawling towards you until he’s not, and his sat like a good little boy in front of you painted feet, and he does what you ask, he begs for your touch, your taste, your mercy.

“please let me touch you, i need it, please please please. can i have it? can i touch you, mommy? i don’t even have to be inside you, j-just your touch and i can- i can cum. please? oh god please-“ miguel babbles, his hulking form looking up at you from the floor. you feel like the wind has been knocked out of your chest. he just needs your touch. you card a hand through his thick wavy locks, gripping at the nape and pulling his head up to look at you.

“just need my touch, hmm?” you look at him and he nods. whimpers. so fucking pathetic. “i’ll let you hump me like you want. my subservient little puppy needs it, huh?” you coo mockingly. a string of yes’s and thank you’s leave miguel’s lips and you get up and turn around, bending over to brace yourself on your vanity.

you’re fully presented for miguel, and there’s an empty beat of stillness between you both, you make eye contact with him in the mirror and quip, “gonna keep me waiting?” and he knows better than that. he’s up on his feet, unbuckling his belt and shucking his jeans down and off him, standing in his boxers, swollen and full with his erection. he moves behind you, placing his hands on either sides of your hips.

“no ma’am.”

you can’t help but pulse in anticipation. you look at him in the mirror and find that he’s looking at you already and you feel yourself heat up. please don’t make me wait anymore, you think. like he’s read your mind, miguel’s covered erection is pressed up against the gusset of your panties, perfectly slot between your ass cheeks.

and experimental hump sends you bouncing forward a little, your breasts jiggling a bit, a soft sigh of satisfaction leaving you. finally. another hump, miguel’s strong hands pulling your hips back towards his crotch and you gasp a bit and the pleasure. another thrust of hips, and again, and again until it becomes a steady rhythm of soft sighs and low groans. and it goes on from a thrust to a trust and grind, and oh! the meat of miguel’s dick rubs up against your clit and you can’t help but moan.

your moans are joined by miguel’s whimpers, his hips rocking so intensely it has you burning up inside so much that you think you might cum from the stimulation. “s-so good baby, fuck,” miguel let’s out and you keen at his praise. you’re so good, you’re his baby. you push and grind your hips up in time with his, feeling yourself begin to soak through your panties and maybe onto miguel’s dark boxers. you can’t hold yourself together anymore, feeling yourself come apart so you drop your head onto your vanity’s surface, hoping to salvage some semblance of your pride.

the thick hands on your hips move to find purchase within your skirt, grabbing fistfuls of the short fabric before pulling your hips back with a staggering strength. you feel your knees buckle a bit, and your head shoots back up with an accompanying moan.

miguel pulls you down while pushing himself up into you and it feels so fucking good. your palms feel clammy and you feels as if you’re still sanding by the grace of god. every nudge of your clit feels as if it’s short circuiting your motor functions temporarily and you feel so overwhelmed to the pleasure, you can do nothing but succumb to it, and the man granting you it.

“m’gonna cum miguel. so good, so fucking good. wish you were inside me so i can feel you. wish you could feel me cum around you. f-feels so good please don’t stop! i’m gonna- oh!” you’re mumbling and babbling incessantly, canting hips and soft whimpers that turn into heavy groans only further pushing you past your limit through this titillating pleasure.

“fuck, gonna come with you baby. come with me, please mommy i need it,” miguel moans. his hands release your skirt and dig into your hips once more and you’re sure you’ll find salacious marks there in the morning but you don’t care, not when you’re so close.

a particular hard thrust sends you reeling forward, head almost hitting your mirror and you can’t help but give out within your legs. you feel them shake and almost go numb at the pleasure. you’re left helpless, cumming violently and soaking the fabric separating both you and miguel as miguel continues his assault against your poor pussy. he fucks it- humps it?- raw, overstimulating you to the point of pain when finally he finishes with a final thrust, his nails digging into the meat of your curvature. you feel his cum seep through the material of both of your arguments and you moan as it hits the gusset of your thong.

miguel lets go of your hip and you wobble a bit, using your upper body upon your desk to stabilize you. you’re both panting and heaving, taking in the intense and carnal display of lust between the two of you. you’re quiet before you hear miguel pipe up, breathlessly, pulling you from your daze.

“thank you, mistress.”

smug bastard.

[samwise1548]

Also made this sticker for them too. I think it's very good. Might sell this one in my shop actually.

[ID: A drawing of Martin Blackwood from the Magnus Archives. Martin is a fat white man with ginger hair frosted at tips. He's wearing glasses, a traveling backpack, a yellow shirt that says "Kill Bill" in all caps, and a tan trenchcoat over it with a rainbow pride flag on its arm. He is smiling and there are pink flowers floating around his head as he points a gun out. \End ID]

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Hitman // Accident

Imagine you wake up tied to a chair ducktape over your mouth and the weight of gravity weighing on your chest. Finally gaining your bearings you realize you are haphazardly hanging from a rickety-looking bridge above a raging river by a man in a black compression shirt a bored look on his face and a phone to his ear. You don’t try to struggle only watching wide-eyed as you hope this Hitman doesn’t drop you 

“Really…the wrong one? Fine, I’ll figure it out.”

Breathing is so much easier when he pulls you from the edge with one hand by the way. He doesn’t untie you sighing exasperatedly while running a hand through his hair. Finally, he takes the ducktape off your mouth waving off your barrage of questions. 

“Look things happened and I was supposed to kill someone who looks a lot like you but not.”

“So you're a hitman and you made a mistake?”

“Yup.”

“Are you going to kill me for knowing you then?”

“I don’t have to.”

“Then can I go home?”

“Er no.”

“Because I’m going to talk?”

“No more like you wouldn’t be able to get into the country anyway.”

Turns out the hitman who happened to target you was incredibly too thorough and ended up burning your ID, crafting up a reasonable missing persons case for you, and making it hard for you to do anything in the country that you can’t properly even find on a map. So to combat the absolute mess of having to go through all the legalese and interrogation you’d go through to get back to your life he comes up with his solution.

“How about you just stay with me? I’ve got more than enough room.”

And he does. It's a place that’s like a small castle, he reasons it’s best that you just help clean the place and maybe make a meal or two. You accept not that you had any other choice at this point so he’ll untie you and take you there. Wherever this backwater country is he’s got a home filled with villagers who are happy to care for it. And in a language you don’t recognize they celebrate it when he brings you home, cheering and excitedly holding your hands. He can’t help but laugh at you while you try to figure things out.

“Hey! What was she saying before?”

“You really shouldn’t just blindly nod to what people are saying. That’s what gets you in trouble.”

“What else am I supposed to do?! She was smiling so wide it must’ve been something nice, right?”

“Hahaha, you're hopelessly adorable.”

When this Hitman is not sitting around laughing at you or mistranslating your requests, he’s not so bad. As the only one who understands what you’re saying and can actually respond to you in a rewarding way. Dismissing that he ruined your everyday life, he’s decent company usually smirking to himself while he makes fun of whatever you're doing. 

“That hat is way too big for you and so are your clothes. It’s kinda cute.”

“It’s not cute! For whatever reason nobody will give me anything other than your clothes it’s really inconvenient.”

“How do you know they're mine?”

“Because they smell like–”

“Awwww are you smelling me in your free time (Y/n)?”

“NO! Wait it’s just an observation—”

“Ewww so perverted (Y/n)~”

When he’s not around to mess with you, he’s off to work. Wearing those same tight-fitted pants he did when you first woke up. It’s…a little sad sometimes. He is the only one you can easily communicate with but you manage to enjoy the thousands of books he has in his home, hang out with the kittens of the farm, and slowly but surely get a grasp on the language all the villagers speak. Maybe one day you can surprise him by being able to call him out the next time he tries to humiliate you to the villagers. It certainly keeps you occupied from thinking about going home anytime soon.

“That’s another body in the ground. Where’s my money?”

The hitman once again casually dismembers another target for his client, taking a quick picture before hurrying to the store. You did say you were a fan of a certain gaming system, he’s got more than enough to spend now that he’s completed another job. Not that he really needed to that amount he had could very well pay for the entire lives of generations to come. That is if he hasn’t budgeted for a luxurious life with you.

“Mmm, which one should I get? Hmm?”

“Oh, are you interested in some of our AAA titles?”

“Not for me but for my partner….I’m just worried they’ll leave me and our kids out while playing.”

“Well if you like we have some lighthearted multiplayer games.”

“That’s perfect!”

He does plan as though you already have kids. He doesn’t need to know if you two will conceive with him or adopt but it doesn’t matter it’s happening. Because to him, you two are already bound to be happily married—all according to his plan. He’s just glad it’s going off so far without a hitch.

“Hi I’m back!”

“Welcome welcome hope everything went well for you chief!”

“How are their studies coming?”

“Decent but they’ll never fully be able to grasp the codes, just as you planned.”

“Perfect. (Y/n) they’re saying you should be the one to massage me this time.”

“What?! There is no way they said that.”

Your hitman’s greatest power is his nonchalant attitude. It’s what allows you to accept that it was his carelessness that led to you being targeted in the first place. It’s what have you not looking twice when ‘the villager’ demands you both feed each other. It might take a while before you fully become the you–he envisioned in his plans but he can wait.

After all your hitman’s waited this long. He doesn’t mind waiting a little more.

“Don’t think too much and let’s just let fate that I’ve chosen decide.”

[sainzszn]

have you ever considered a coquette! gf and luke 👉🏻👈🏻 teeheeeee 🌷🎀🤍 ur smaus give me a purpose in life and a will to live 🥹

"my good looking boy"

luke castellan x daughterofaphrodite!coquette!reader

smau - luke loves his girl so much he lets her walk him like a dog (but coquettley )

🎧 - good looking by suki waterhouse

a/n: ahhhh i love this request! (btw u give me a will to live) i can just picture luke being difficult with everyone else and then letting his girl put bows in his hair and like him sleeping in her fancy pink bed AHHHH IM DYING (also percabeth is PERCABETHING in this)

*possible swearing and suggestive content, not checked so there could be mistakes*

--------------------------------------------------------

liked by silenaaaa, iamchrisrodriguez, and others

yn_yln he loves bows now

tagged itslukecastellan

view comments:

larueclarisse LMAO U HAVE HIM WHIPPED

yn_yln 🐕‍🦺

iamchrisrodriguez LMFAOOOOO

_groverunderwood yikes luke you just got called a dam dog

percy.jackson me personally id never take that

whosannabeth yes you would

percy.jackson yes i would

itslukecastellan and im the whipped one??

percy.jackson stfu

larueclarisse marry me??? 💍

yn_yln I DO

itslukecastellan what 🙂

silenaaaa SO CUTE Y/N

yn_yln YOU SEL

itslukecastellan i ❤️ my gf

yn_yln i ❤️ my bf

silenaaaa I CANNOT W THIS I LOVE LOVE

itslukecastellan where are my photo creds for the first picture????

yn_yln photo credits for the first picture go to this little shit head

whosannabeth @percy.jackson you'd take that too shithead

percy.jackson yeah...

yn_yln 🐕‍🦺

_groverunderwood that dam bow

yn_yln still concerned about the timing of this original joke

percy.jackson @itslukecastellan wheres ur dignity man

itslukecastellan 🤷

whosannabeth IGNORE PERCY THIS IS THE CUTEST THING IVE EVER SEEN

yn_yln i ❤️ my annabeth

itslukecastellan i thought you ❤️ me?

yn_yln know your place pretty boy

rachel.edare coquette bf

yn_yln duh gotta match the aesthetic

hi_imtyson 🎀

yn_yln MISS YOU TYSON

larueclarisse where can i get one of those shirts?

iamchrisrodriguez please dont answer that

yn_yln i'll send you the link 😘

iamchrisrodriguez shit

liked by whosannabeth, clarisselarue, and others

itslukecastellan she thinks im pretty (ft. this week's flowers)

tagged yn_yln

view comments:

iamchrisrodriguez STOP UR KILLING MY RELATIONSHIP

itslukecastellan just do better chris

yn_yln yeah be like luke (this is the only time you will ever hear this advice from anyone)

larueclarisse hello is want flowers too???!?!??

yn_yln lmao

silenaaaa where do u find one of this kind

yn_yln the pound go for the ones w daddy AND mommy issues

itslukecastellan jesus y/n

yn_yln 😊😊

percy.jackson ur ugly

itslukecastellan ur uglier

percy.jackson nuh uh

itslukecastellan yuh huh

percy.jackson nuh uh

itslukecastellan yuh huh

whosannabeth ignore percy. again.

itslukecastellan ive gotten very good at it

larueclarisse REAL

iamchrisrodriguez not real clar he pisses u tf off

larueclarisse 💐???

_groverunderwood those dam bows again

percy.jackson HAHAHAAHA

yn_yln pretty sure thats a laugh of trauma

itslukecastellan quit grover

yn_yln i love you

itslukecastellan is love you more

yn_yln WHERE ARE MY PHOTO CREDS FOR THE SECOND PICTURE??? HMMM???

itslukecastellan this little rat took the second photo

rachel.edare 🐕‍🦺

itslukecastellan i hate you 🙂

yn_yln's story

view reply from percy.jackson:

percy.jackson im holding this against him forever

yn_yln good pls do

view reply from itslukecastellan:

itslukecastellan youre lucky i love you or else i would not let you expose me like this

yn_yln love you too castellan

view reply from larueclarisse:

larueclarisse IM CRYING

larueclarisse YOU SHOULDVE SEEN THE LOOK ON HIS AND CHRIS'S FACES WHEN THEY SAW THIS

larueclarisse LUKE TURNED EVERY SHADE OF RED AND CHRIS LOOKED LIKE HE MIGHT SHIT A BRICK

yn_yln LMAOOOO

view reply from silenaaaa:

silenaaaa y/n you cant have other campers in our cabin

yn_yln but you love love

silenaaaa fair

silenaaaa wait

silenaaaa wait what kind of love 😏

yn_yln JEEZ NOT THAT KIND

yn_yln just posted a story

view reply from itslukecastellan:

itslukecastellan im blushingggg

yn_yln good

view reply from iamchrisrodriguez:

iamchrisrodriguez Y/N STOPPPP

yn_yln no

view reply from whosannabeth:

whosannabeth how much do u think i'll have to pay percy to do this?

yn_yln nothing hed do anything for u

whosannabeth oh wait true

[readerstories]

When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 7/?

Had some time during my layover, so here's the next chapter, hope y'all enjoy! Don't know quite when the next chapter will be, since I'll be on vacation, but I'll try to get something out in hopefully not too long. Just a smigde of info, reader has tried to look up treatments for the pain caused by soulmates, the only one that really works is to be near them. (AO3) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 8)

Warnings/tags: male reader, slightly suggestive, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn

Wordcount: 1659

Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.

This time it’s a week and a half before you see them. Your sanity might be thanking the universe, but your body does not. You’re stiff, your shoulders and back constantly. You’ve taken to taking long and scolding baths to ease the pain, it helps for a bit since painkillers won’t. Which you discovered through lived and read experience. 

So, in a way, it’s good that you meet them again, even if you will barely admit that to yourself.

This time it is in a place you didn’t think would be their scene. 

This time you are a bouncer at a nightclub, a favor for Dave who got food poisoning. You groaned over the phone when he asked for the favor, but said yes after he promised to buy several rounds for you next time you go drinking with him. It gives you a reason to leave your apartment, to try to live life normally.

So now you are getting paid to look tough and check ID’s, and have free drinks to look forward to later. So, a win-win. Even if you have to deal with drunk people, and you can’t go armed, since the dress pants and t-shirt that is the uniform doesn’t hide much. Technically you shouldn’t need to be armed for this job, but it always feels more safe to be than to not be, especially with your life.

It’s a win-win until you spot two familiar people in your line into the club. 

Two annoyingly familiar people. 

Wade’s wearing tight black leather pants, a black plastic cowboy hat, a pink hello kitty long-sleeve that sits plastered to his muscled torso, a pink bandana covering the lower half of his face, and matching pink chunky closed toe high heels. 

It makes him taller than Logan, who’s wearing black jeans, boots, and a tight black shirt that is unbuttoned to show a hefty amount of chest hair on his muscled chest. 

They both have glitter on their cheekbones, which glint in the light outside of the club as they talk to each other, not having noticed you yet.

They look kinda ridiculous.

But hey, opposites attract you guess.

You know you are stuck until they notice you. You can’t just leave, there’s too many people in line, it would take forever to get everyone in if there was just one bouncer. So, you are forced by the universe to stay put, watching as your soulmates get closer and closer, even as much as you want them to go further and further away. (Though your body screams for the complete opposite.)

When they are just a few people away, Logan catches your gaze. His eyes narrow, before flicking down to Wade, pushing at his arm, directing his attention to you instead of him. Wade grins as he spots you, you can tell because he pulls the bandana down to his neck instead.

“Oh heyyyy.” Wade drags out, grinning, while Logan watches you, saying nothing.

“This doesn't seem like your scene.”

“Not like you would know that, little pookie, you need to know people to know where they like to have fun.” There’s a shot of bitterness in Wade’s tone and your bond, but it’s gone before you can dwell on it as Wade keeps looking at you, unashamedly checking you out.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, just go inside.” You gesture for them to walk past you as you open the rope in front of the club door, but both of them stay put.

“Not gonna check ID’s?” Wade grins, fluttering his eyelashes, the only kind of hair he has (you assume). You and Logan snort in unison.

“Neither of you look 20.” And you don’t doubt both of them could get a fake ID with ease. 

“Not interested in seeing our ages pookie?”

“Not in the slightest. Now get the fuck inside before I change my mind and keep you out here.”

“You say that like being here with you is a threat and not a treat.” Wade winks, but walks past you to go inside. Logan follows right behind him, giving you a quick once over.

“What was that?” The other bouncer leans over to half-whisper after you’ve let a few more people in.

“It’s complicated.”

“They trouble?” 

“Only for my own sanity.” It’s with great annoyance you realize your shoulders feel just a tad lighter.

—---

A few hours later, you have moved from the door and are making the rounds through the club. People going in have slowed, meaning you are not needed outside anymore. It feels good to be moving, even as your body aches and hurts. 

The club is packed inside, the loud and rhythmic music making sure the dance floor is crowded with people in varying states of drunkenness. There’s probably some other substances too, but people are behaving for now, as your eyes scan the crowd you spot nothing that you need to stop.

As you walk through the edge of the crowd, you slowly become aware that your bond is more open, as something starts to filter through the low, but constant, hum of the bonds.

It’s not something you can immediately identify. It’s certainly something you’ve felt before, it’s just been a while, and you’ve never felt it this clearly through the bond before. A hint here and there, but you can hardly blame them for being human. 

It’s desire. Arousal. Lust. Horny, if you are going to be slightly less fancy about it. 

You feel your cheeks heat up, and sigh as you rub your forehead. You close your eyes, letting the bond guide you for the briefest of moments. 

It takes a couple of tries of you closing your eyes for you to be led to a metal door in a corner next to the bar marked “Employees Only” in red letters. The lights of the club dance over the letters as you push the door open, and the music spills out into the alley before you let the door fall closed behind you. There’s not much here, just the concrete steps you are standing on, a couple of dumpsters, a wooden bench with an ashtray drilled into the armrest. And two people pressed against the brickwall of the neighboring building.

“You guys should not be here.” Wade pulls away from Logan, turning his head to look over his own shoulder, grinning. His hands are in Logan’s hair, Logan’s hands are on his hips, neither of them let go of the other.

“Pookie! Fancy meeting you here!” You scowl at Wade, then meet Logan’s own scowling face, before he hides his face in Wade’s shoulder, but you do catch the beginning of a smirk before it's hidden from view.

“See peanut! I told you he would feel it.” Absent-mindedly you notice the glitter has moved from just Wade’s cheekbone to his lips as well, and his neck, just above where his bandana now sits.

“Feel what?” Wade ignores the question for a moment, kissing the top of Logan’s head. The bond still isn’t fully closed, as you feel another wave of arousal wash over you, making you take a deep breath. It feels strange, like it wants to settle in your gut, but just flows through you. “Well, now at least we know our bonds aren’t platonic! Well, we knew ours wasn’t-” Wade ruffles Logan’s hair, you see his hands clench Wade’s waist tighter “-but now we know for all of us! How exciting.”

You don’t know that to say to any of this, you rarely do, so you revert back to old habits.

“Like I said, you shouldn’t be here.” A brief spike of disappointment, then your bond is finally blessedly quiet again. Wade grins, but it’s a lot less teasing than earlier in the night.

“Ohhh, I like it when you get all bossy. Gonna start manhandling us? You are more than welcome to.” Wade keeps the grin on his face, Logan shakes his head against his shoulder. Or he’s rubbing against it, you are not sure.

“I will call the fucking cops.” Wade sticks out his tongue at you.

“Party pooper. Come one peanut, let's go home.” Wade plants one last quick kiss on Logan before turning towards you, dislodging Logan’s hands from his hips, taking one of them in his own. “At least you are a lot less stabby tonight.” 

“I am unarmed.” Wade gasps, overly dramatic. You don’t even know why you offer up that tidbit. Not like it was hard to guess with your outfit though.

“Oh my god, our baby is naked. Quick, cover your eyes!” He moves his hands back towards Logan’s face, Logan smacks them away with a grunt.

“I am not yours anything, and quit it with those fucking nicknames. There’s no way to hide anything in these dress pants.”

“No, you can indeed not hide a lot in those.” Both of their eyes wander over your form, you feel anger rise, and push it through both of their bonds. 

“Again, I will call the cops.”

“Again, party pooper.” Wade retorts, but drags Logan with him towards the door. You swear you feel him brush against you when he goes past, but by the time you process the light touch and turn around to look at him, all you see is their backs before the door shuts behind them. 

You stay behind, breathing in and out through your nose. Calming yourself down, the usual background hum of your bond fraying at your nerves. 

Fuck, your body hurts. But for a moment the pain had eased.

You shove your hands in your pockets, surprised when your fingers feel different fabric. 

Fishing it out, you are met with the sight of Wade’s bandana in your hand. You stare at it. It’s soft, there’s little horses on it in a darker shade of pink.

You ball it up in a fist and stare at the door to the bar.

(Part 8)

[seiwas]

hihi sel! for your trope mashup game: bedsharing + teacher au featuring satosugu! (or any ship of your choice, really bahaha)

bitti!! thanks for playing with me 🥹 u need to know. this took me tf out 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 thanks for bouncing around these ideas w me babie @mieiri

"looks like we'll have to cuddle tonight," gojo plops down on the foot of the bed, hands outstretched behind him.

you drop your bag to the floor, scanning the rest of the room.

there's a decently sized window at the far end, with a small desk and its own chair. to your immediate right is the bathroom, with a single sink, a small shower space, and a toilet. the space is okay, not too big and not too small considering the two giants you’re rooming with.

except, there’s one problem. when your eyes pan to the left, right up against the wall—

there's only one bed.

you can hear geto chuckling behind you, his leather jacket crinkling as he walks around the room.

there was supposed to be a couch at least. that's what your faculty had promised you. it's why you agreed to room with geto and gojo in the first place.

"dibs not middle," geto settles into the seat right at the end of the room.

they both look at you.

oh god.

this professor's retreat was initiated by your college in an effort to mingle with your colleagues from the other departments. not that you needed it to get to interact with gojo and geto, you know each other enough from the weekend martial arts classes you attend together.

that being said, though, knowing them from a shared class is a far different relationship from being comfortable enough to sleep beside them.

between coinciding schedules with the physics department and later time slots of the molecular biology classes, the chemistry classes you teach leave almost no opportunity for you to pass them in the hallways.

which, is honestly kind of a good thing.

you don't think you can handle seeing them even more than you already do on the weekends; gojo dressed in tight compression shirts and geto in those sickeningly fitted vests. how sweaty they both end up after sparring with one another—

"i'll take the floor," you announce, heat firing your cheeks as you immediately rifle through the cabinets in the bathroom for extra towels.

granted, the outfits they wear to work are a lot more modest. gojo always opts for pressed dress shirts, neat and sleek as if he’s busy (which he is, you think. he’s always somehow invited to meetings with the university’s higher-ups). geto, on the other hand, swears by his leather jackets. if it weren’t for the ‘lecturer’ id clipped to his jacket pocket, he’d easily be mistaken as a student. you’re pretty sure he has, especially by his own students on the first day of class.

still, you cannot handle sleeping in between the two of them.

in your panic, you don't notice the sound of footsteps approaching the bathroom door, a broad figure leaning over its frame.

"hey,"

you’re going to kill gojo.

between the two of them, gojo’s always the one who tries to convince you to join in on their antics. but as long as he doesn’t touch you, you think you’ve built up a pretty good immunity to all his tricks.

this, however, is a completely different tactic.

if one of them can persuade you by voice alone, it’s geto suguru—and it seems like gojo knows it too.

“you know there'll be plenty of space on the bed, right?"

it was a mistake for you to look up, because now you've caught his eyes, an impossibly hypnotizing brown that drips warmth into his honeyed speech.

you breathe out, keeping your cool, “it's okay, suguru, i don't mind.”

he crosses his arms, leaning more of his weight on the doorframe as he peers down at you. a strand of his hair falls from the bun he usually keeps it in; it’s tip lands right where his smirk ends.

well, fuck.

"satoru's a stick," he comments, and from within the room you can hear gojo start to whine, “hey—!”, but suguru continues, ignoring him, “i can squeeze closer to the wall."

he tilts his head, dipping it lower.

you sigh, closing your eyes. the towels you’ve managed to scavenge now slipping from your hands.

when you step outside in evident defeat, gojo sits up from the bed, tapping the space beside him as he crosses his legs. gojo runs his mouth a lot of the time, but it’s in this moment that you truly believe pretty boys shouldn’t be allowed to speak. because when he says—

"c'mon, it'll be fun."

—you think the next three days will simultaneously be the best and worst days of your life.

some additional things i didn’t include:

gojo’s pedagogy is terrible but students love to take his class because they think he’s hot + he doesn’t require attendance. his assessments are either extremely easy (aka nothing) or fucking hard and students are willing to take this gamble 🥲 he also sucks at teaching because he can’t explain for shit!!! but he grades high 😃

geto on the other hand!! good all around except his assessments are always fucking HARD. but students also love to take his class because they actually learn something 😃 (and also bc his students crush on him hard lmao)

the sleeping situation happens as follows: gojo takes up most of the bed space and geto does in fact squeeze to the wall, with you squished to his side too 😃 on one of the nights, gojo clings onto you and geto scoots closer because the empty space freaks him out a lil 😃 at some point, both of them squish you in the middle too 😃 you start to think maybe they wanted this all along…

[honeysmoonn]

finnick being protective?

warnings: set in catching fire b4 quarter quell, tiny signs of panic attacks if you squint, mean peacekeeper (nothing new), very short but don’t fear at least one more part will be posted soon!

a/n: thanks for the request anon!! i hope i did this justice, if not lmk and id be happy to rewrite something similar: )

when you were crowned victor of the 67th annual hunger games, the last thing you expected was to be thrown into the quarter quell.

it was like a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from, constantly stuck in a never ending state of fear and anxiety. it was slowly killing you from the inside out.

one thing, one person kept you grounded, though. finnick odair. finnick had been your mentor for your games. he taught you everything you knew about surviving. he taught you how to tie intricate fishing knots, which led you to survive off fishing during your games. every time a fish swam into the fishing net, you smiled up to the sky. and in the other side, finnick smiled back.

though survival wasn’t the only thing finnick taught you.

he taught you how to control your emotions, he taught you how to be strong, and most importantly, how to love.

love was a tough thing in your eyes. you never had any childhood crushes after river, a boy a year older than you, got pulled into the hunger games and died. to you, it felt like the universe was against you, so the idea of love never came easy. though, after finnick was in the picture, he took note of your hesitancy to his flirting and made it his mission to make you feel loved. he ultimately came up with the conclusion that you yourself hadn’t been loved on enough; and no one should live without love.

after you won your games, nightmares and panic attacks came often. but it wasn’t your mother or father you comforted you; it was finnick. he was the one you sat with you on endless nights, cradling you in the protection of his arms.

even now, as the two of you stood on the stage facing your district, you looked to finnick with tears in your eyes. even as ocean formed in your eyes and the crisp air began hard to breathe, finnick remained calm. once the two of you were directed backstage, your first instinct was to go to finnick. luckily, his was too.

“finn,” you sobbed into his shirt. he was quick to wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace, holding you close to him, but not too tight; like you were a porcelain doll. it felt like you were, that a single wrong word would shatter you into a million shards of glass. “i don’t wanna go back.” you let out a long and shaky sigh, tightly shutting your eyes as if the world around you would melt away, leaving just you and finnick.

one of his big hands fell on your back, gently stroking the soft material of your light blue dress your mother made especially for reaping days. the other one cradled your head, holding you close to his chest. every so often he would press his soft lips to the top of your head, murmuring softly. “don’t worry, don’t worry about a thing. i’ll protect you. i won’t let anything happen to you.”

his words paired with his gentle touch almost calmed your nerves. but the immediate though of him flooded your brain. “oh, oh no finnick,” you pulled back, only slightly. finnick arms were still latched onto yours, grounding you to him. “what about you? what about us?” the quiver in your voice made finnick heart sink into his stomach.

while it wasn’t true, he continued to soothe you by whispering “it’ll be okay” and “we’ll be alright” into your ear while rocking your gently. he knew, when it came down to it, it wouldn’t be him walking out of that arena.

the quiet moment shared between you was cut off by a peacekeeper. the man dressed in white didn’t waste anytime, nor give any warnings before he ripped you out of finnick warm grasp. it was only to get you ready for the train, but finnick jaw ticked as your brow furrowed at the man’s tight grip. somehow, you were back in the area. just a teenager again as another tribute tried to pull you to your certain death.

“hey, hey, hey!” the blond boy rushed forward, taking hold on the peacekeepers white jacket and trying his best to keep you away from the government troop. he could see the fear in your eyes, he knew those eyes. the same eyes that he looked into countless nights when either of you had nightmares. “no need for all this, let her go.” it was so sincere, his tone. it was kind of how he talked to you, calm and gentle. but behind the sweetness there was a tang of venom, a underlying sense of tension hung over finnick head as the peacekeeper didn’t move a muscle.

and older woman (you couldn’t remember her name. diamond? sapphire? something stupid like that), another previous victor (and now your mentor) stepped forward. her hand fell of finnicks shoulder, she meant it in a motherly way but the boy in front of you frowned. “oh finnick, darling, don’t worry. he’s just trying to help.”

“she doesn’t need any help.” this time his words came out as rough and full of intention. and yet the peacekeeper didn’t budge. finnick was fed up. he lurched forward to harshly shove the man shoulder, causing him to stumble back and let go of you. “i got her from here.” he grumbled to the man now on the floor before turning to you. “you okay? anything hurt?” you shook your head and he smiled.

“thank you.” you smiled back at him. his efforts to make you feel better certainly went a long way considering the circumstances. “you didn’t have to do that.” you hated to admit, but you could feel a certain pink blush creeping across your cheeks. finnick must have also noticed, seeing he smirked and placed his hand on the small of your back, leading you away from the peacekeeper and mentor.

“i know,” he replied softly. “but they shouldn’t be doing all that to you. you’ve been through enough.” he gently nudged your shoulder. how he could go from being rough with the capitol people do being so very delicate with you was an odd thing, but beautiful nonetheless. “now cmon, let’s get you to bed.” he smiled with a kiss to your head.

[therandomartmaker]

[Image ID: An artwork featuring Sam Manson standing with her back facing the camera in a field of red flowers. She is wearing a purple short-sleeved shirt tucked into a black half-corset, over a mesh/fishnet shirt. She has a torn purple skirt with a green inside, wearing dark pants under it and boots. She has one arm to the side, it can’t be told whether the hand is covered in her own blood, or the blood of others. Her skirt is stained, too. Above her head is written “Thou wilt find that blood is spirit - Friedrich Nietzsche” /End ID]

Day 27: “Blood blossoms weren't named for their blood red color. They were named for the liquid they fed on.”

pov: i went brushset hunting for a good flower brush because damn if i was spending more than an hour on this. On a side note, though, i hc this is an au of the dan phantom timeline where sam lived and chose to grow blood blossoms to, eventually, kill dan. apologies if this is early it’s like. 8pm aest 27th oct so it’s on time for me lmaoooo

[youhaveraybies]

Heaven Knows I’m miserable now🍂

…

@sarcastic-cookie @herondale-lightworm @anunstablefangirl @kitsbaby123

More jeremy !!!!!!!!!!!!

I’d been hours , four long hours…it was dark outside and you were ready for bed ; settled so nicely in your bed , reading and trying…failing…to distract yourself from your ghost boyfriend who’d well…disappeared from the face of the earth. Maybe he’d moved on…? moved onto the next thing…made at peace or something…you’d hoped he hadn’t , you missed him. Rethinking everything, the way his lips felt so perfect against yours . You tried to read a book, only stopping on the same sentence two hundred and three times , Heaven knows I’m miserable now by the Smiths echoing through the dull room .

You were bored…sad and somewhat completely still confused by everything. You heard your bedroom door slowly open before a very breathless and..soaking wet Jeremy appeared.

“there she is..!”Jeremy pants out , “oh i’m so glad you’re here cause i’ve just had to fight the weirdest…” He stops , shaking himself as he laughs out , “i’m human like i’m actually breathing and stuff and i bruise and..oh my god i can actually leave this place ..”

You stare at him, leaving your bed to hug him, “missed you.”

“oh? yeah? i…uh…yeah…i missed you too but listen, baby…i just had to fight the weirdest guy over in..the underworld thing..? like he was not letting me leave but..uh i mean he did let me but-“ You cut him off , lips meeting with his as he freezes, pushing off for a moment.

“you’re warm..”

“yeah i’m alive again so i’m-…you kissed me.”

“yeah..? i missed you.”

“so are we like officially together now..since like…im human and not dead and like totally able to go on dates with you.”

You roll your eyes , pushing his head back to yours as you lead him onto the bed , his hands gripping your thighs as he leans over you, tongues dancing and lips hungrily smashing together. Your hands in his hair , he hums out occasionally; clearly dazed by everything and now the fact he was human and able to kiss his little human girlfriend without a care or a problem….well besides the problem brewing between his hips..

He lifts you a little higher, shifting himself between your thighs as he continues to kiss you , his hands wearily moving from your thighs and under your shirt causing a small hum to leave your lips…

“hm..” He stops for a moment, “i have missed this..”

“oh?” you stop, blinking at him as he hand slowly runs over your chest , your eyes half lidded as you stare at him

“i…i..not like that! i meant being a human…i wasn’t like some total manwhore…i mean this is the closest i’ve gotten to actually touching-…ill just…ill just shut up..”

You giggle at him, moving his head to rest on your chest as your fingers run through his wet hair , sighing out , “you worried me…”

“i know but trust me…i would never leave you..i chose to haunt you when i was a ghost and..i am so gonna haunt you now im alive….you’re gonna have to kill me to get me to leave ..” He smiles up at him, fingers drawing circles into your skin, eyes shining with softness and admiration once again as yours mirror his.

“i think id like it if you haunted me forever, jer…”

“yeah..?”

“mhm…”

You both settle , breathing matching as you stare at each other…mind at peace and body calm under his…you’d have this forever .

[sickly-sapphic]

[ID: A swirly, pink and blue background on all slides. Text reads; I'm laughing with my queer friends. We talk about queer love and queer sex. "God, I am such a lesbian, I'd literally throw up if I saw a dick irl!" I shrink back. She'll wonder why she doesn't have many transfem friends. "Women & AFABs" is written on a bright, rainbow sign. There's a trans flag on one corner, an intersex one on the other.

I sigh and walk inside.

They all wonder why so few transfems attended the meeting today. "AFAB Healthcare" is the title of the breast cancer awareness post on my for you page this morning.

They'll dare to wonder later why "all our beautiful trans women" are dying so young. There's a reddit post asking trans women what they think of the flag. There's 100 comments.

3 of them are trans women.

All of those have replies, telling them they're wrong.

They'll ask why trans women don't voice their opinions enough. I notice, quietly, I am far more acknowledged in conversation, with my longer hair and visible chest, than the girl across the table with buzz cut and a t-shirt.

They'll wonder why she doesn't keep contact with the rest of the group. My voice is too harsh, too loud. I don't qualify as a girl because or hairy legs or a weird nose.

They ask why so many transfems worry that much about passing. My mutuals repost and talk about punching terfs & kicking transphobes. They have never posted a transfem positivity post. They comment how little their transfem following is.

They scream predator at the trans girl in a collar and cat ears. She is 16. They comment how little they see trans girls in public these days.

I've been called a rapist, a groomer, a creep, for existing in online spaces since 14. It gets worse in short clothes or posts mentioning sex. They keep asking where to find good transfem voices online.

You drown, and you kill. You shout, and you maim. And you have the nerve, the audacity, to look me in the eyes and ask,

"Where are all the trans girls these days?" End ID]

[fairytsuk1]

no caller id | (s)

apart of maki's kinktober: the 2024 anthology

prompt: ghostface, exhibition/voyeurism, stalking

pairing: alex quackity x reader

words: 6.1k

warnings: scream!au, mentions of murder and violence, stalking, exhibition and voyeurisms, stockholm syndrome, friends to lovers, masturbation, phone sex, oral sex, vaginal sex, condom usage

There were few things you and Alex disagreed on. You had your moments, sure, but you were thick as thieves. Anyone and everyone could see that. You were his, and he was yours, “it’s totally not romantic, just platonic companionship!”

So, you got along well. Horror movies, though… That was one unfortunate, disagreeable thing between you two. You would go all in with the popcorn and the candy and top it off with a fuzzy blanket draped over your form. Alex would signify his leave the minute you got comfortable before acquiescing and sitting next to you, face anxious and full of fear as he sat still.

He just wasn’t the type of person to indulge in such media. That’s why seeing Alex so enthralled in the Ghostface killings happening around town was so utterly shocking. He flips his phone towards you, and you’re graced with gory crime scene photos and a news article, “Alex! I don’t wanna see that.”

Alex sighs and nods before showing you another photo as he leans across your countertops. He’d come over for a late-night study session, but after too many Celsius drinks, it was safe to say that you were not going to pass your exam.

“This happened right by your dorm! You should see, you’ve gotta stay safe with that killer out there.”

He says it in the midst of your kitchen, wearing your too-big t-shirt and too-big sweatpants. He was fretting over you. It’s so domestic, your heart squeezes at the fond way he gazes at you; he’s warmth and love that tastes like the finest wine. You couldn’t get too distracted admiring the dotted freckles on his cheeks and wisps of dark hair, no. That wasn’t platonic of you. You shake your head, “I don’t care. I just don’t wanna get freaked out by that stuff.”

Alex hums and scrolls some more. He’s withholding, and your fingers come to poke at his ribs, “what?”

“You probably don’t want to know who died then, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

You give him an incredulous look with raised eyebrows. Alex makes a face and looks away before snapping back to look at you. He hems and haws before the words slip past his lips faster than he can stand them.

“Carlos Rodriguez, ring a bell? Says here he was dismembered walking home–”

“Oh god! Stop, that’s…” horrifying.

“That was the guy you went on a date with,” he pops a grape into his mouth like it was the most casual thing in the world, “right?”

“Yeah, yeah. It was.”

He observes you for a moment. Your eyes look guilty, and he can’t place why. It makes something inside of him twinge. He’s rounding the counter in seconds and wrapping an arm around your shoulder in a protective embrace. Alex smells like warm musk, spicy with a hint of cinnamon. You instinctively curl towards him and bury your face in his neck. He was always comforting.

Alex preens when you go in for the hug, feeling your chest squish against his as he pulls you close to him, “it’s alright. He’s in a better place now! You have me; I’ll keep you safe.”

It’s a sweet sentiment. As if Ghostface would come after the two of you. You try not to hone in on his ‘you have me.’ He was considerate of your feelings and wanted to make you feel safe. Your heart pitter-patters in your chest. His hand rubs small circles on your back, and you shudder, pressing closer to his warmth.

You both stay like that. Alex keeps you enveloped within him for as long as he can, purring soft comforts into the shell of your ear. His lips brush against the sensitive skin before he picks you up into his arms and drags you to the couch. 

“Come on. It’s movie night!”

It doesn’t really leave your mind, though, even as you sidle up close to Alex while re-watching your favorite movies.

“And you’ve known Alex for how long?”

A gaggle of your friends sit around your dorm, Christina being the first to start the interrogation. It’d been a week since Carlos had been killed, and you’d been spending all your time with Alex. It was for safety, you said. It’s just so nothing happens, you reiterated. Your friends knew better.

“Five years? Six?”

“Oh my god! He wants to date you,” Imane exclaims. “It’s obvious, he buys your lunch, you guys cuddle: you just need to man up!”

“Woman up,” Noah emphasizes before sipping on his beer. “But I agree, he’s got it bad for you.”

You sit in the center with flushed cheeks, “we’re just friends, guys!”

“Friends who wanna fuck,” Christina adds with a laugh.

“But isn’t it suspicious he hasn’t made a move yet? Like, what’s he waiting for?”

“Guys, come on. He’s not bad or suspicious or anything! He’s just shy…”

You defend your man, but Noah blurts out the unthinkable. The inconceivable.

“Maybe he’s Ghostface!”

The silence was deafening against your speakers, humming a tune of bedroom pop; you could hear your blood rushing in your ears. You all pin Noah with a deep stare. How could he say that?

“That’s not funny, Noah.”

“I’m not saying anything! I’m just saying maybe he doesn’t want to date you because he’s too busy chopping up people’s bodies or something.”

“Noah! Enough,” you cry with hands covering your ears. “I’m not listening to you! I don’t want to listen to you.”

“Listennn, I like the guy. Trust-wise? He’s on my list.”

What if he was? Can you tell? You’re not sure, and you think about it for a while. There was something about the Ghostface persona that you’d initially joked about being hot, but that was before it hit so close to home. You were unsure and unsettled. Alex couldn’t be capable of something so horrid. He was your best friend and, admittedly, your crush. It just wasn’t believable.

You’re stuck in your head for the rest of the kickback. Alex had said he couldn’t come; he was “swamped with homework.” It wasn’t exactly believable since you shared a Google Calendar together: even more definitive proof of you two toeing the line between friends and lovers, a sentiment echoed by your friend group.

The sun sets into an inky black night, and your friends are filed out of the room. You’re left alone and freezing. A hot shower might do you some good. You take your time. The bathroom fills with its warm steam as you turn the knob and let your clothes drop one by one. Your phone rings. Your wrist is dampened from the brief spray of water, pulling out your arm to decline the call.

They call again, and you’re huffing as you swing your phone up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hello,” a gritty voice filters through and purrs your name. “Getting ready for bed?”

You know in your heart who it is. That telltale voice, the way he repeated your name… Ghostface had asked you a question, and your legs tremble as your mouth gapes, “it’s in your best interest to answer.”

“Yes! Yes, I am,” you squeak out.

“That’s nice. I like your panties. Teddy bears? How cute.”

“How do you know that?”

Your voice is firm, yet its slightest wobble makes Ghostface chuckle. This couldn’t be happening. It was impossible. The shower drips and sputters in the background as your breathing grows heavier. It was impossible.

“Let’s play a game. Tell me your favorite scary movie.”

Unshed tears glisten in your eyes, “I don’t want to.”

“You have to. What’s your favorite scary movie?”

“I don’t know! Please, I don’t–”

“I’m not gonna kill you, so just answer the fucking question, pretty girl.”

Rivulets of tears stream down your cheeks as you choke out an answer. The panic and sickening arousal courses through you. He kept complimenting you, making you feel all gooey inside, all while the threat of his power loomed over you like a fog that grew thicker every moment you stood in fear. He grew on your fear, he devoured it whole.

“I like the Chucky movies.”

Ghostface laughs, and it’s so familiar, but then he’s going from joyful to mad as he teases you over the phone.

“Ah, with the doll? Not as big of a fan of me, hmm?”

“Y-You’re scaring me,” you whisper, phone clenched in your fist. “What do you want from me?”

There’s a deep pause before he continues.

“I just wanted to play with you before bed. You should show yourself off more,” he hums and then sighs. “Enjoy the shower, pretty.”

He can’t help but add, “you don’t know what you do to me.”

Click. Ghostface hangs up, and your dreadful face stares back at you in the mirror. Were you meant to feel slick between your thighs as Ghostface lulled sweet compliments towards your body? No, it was wrong! It was so bad that you had to gnaw on your lip to prevent yourself from pressing the “call back” button.

Water streams down your forehead and nose, pooling at your feet before sliding down the drain. Your hands run through your soaked strands with a slight tremble as you sniffle, wondering if that murderer stands under a similar stream of water to watch crimson flow down the drain. You can’t get it out of your head as you towel off and slip on silky pajamas. Your heavy body sinks into the covers, and you stare at the ceiling. It’s almost on instinct for you to reach over with a huff and pull up Alex’s contact.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I can’t sleep,” you murmur as you fiddle with the hem of your shirt. “Will you come over?”

You can hear him yawn, and you’re quick to apologize even as he waves you off, “don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

Barely ten minutes pass by before a gentle knock sounds at your door. There’s a stream of light as he enters that shines and is then blown out when he closes the door behind him.

Alex tiptoes in, toeing his shoes off by the door, “I’m here.”

You’re already breathing heavily and scooting over to give him more room. Alex looks at your sleepy eyes that stare back at him in the dark, joining you and slipping under your fluffy duvet to get close to you. You aren’t touching, but you’re so damn close. You need him closer, and the need to feel his skin against yours is overwhelming your entire being.

“Can we cuddle?”

Alex adjusts with his head on his hand, arm bent, and lying on your pillow as you snuggle a little closer, “yeah. C’mere.”

A buff arm wraps around your figure, and it’s heavenly. You tuck your face into the crook of his neck and inhale his freshly showered scent, making you instantly relax in his arms. Your feet tangle with his, and he lets out a soft hiss at the cool feeling of your toes against his ankles. You both fall asleep, tangled in soft breaths, and the comfort of muscle looped around you. As you dream of nothingness, it then turns into something hapless.

“...Alex?”

Your voice is dreamy and wispy. You can hardly speak out, let alone yell out. Ghostface and Alex sit facing each other, and you call louder, eyes fluttering and blurring as you draw closer. You know it’s a dream, but you can’t help but take it as fact, as reality.

“What are you doing?”

They both turn towards you, Ghostface’s mask shaped in a long, menacing grin as he tilts his head towards you. Blood starts seeping from the edges of the mask and runs down its contours as it continues staring into your soul. You turn towards Alex, horrified to see him with a sickening grin as ruby red drops splatter on his face, “what’s wrong?”

There’s no reply as they both reach for you in a desperate bid to make you join whatever fucked-up seated circle they were reveling in. Revelling. That was the reason Alex was smiling. You awake with a gasping start.

It’s hard to focus on classes, on homework, on your relationships. You’d be holed up in libraries and study rooms with your ringer on in case another killing happened. They did happen, two in the same week. You couldn’t stop thinking, wondering if he’d sweet-talked his victims before brutally shoving the knife in deep till the fight leaked out of them. Did he call them, too?

You’d have told anyone, but there was no one to tell. Your friends would encourage you to tell the police, and there was no excuse for hiding something as crucial as a phone call from Ghostface. You’d be vilified within seconds. You couldn’t tell Alex, and it wasn’t even your fault. Alex had been distant. Busy, he’d said. Liar, you bit back.

He blew you off on the days you typically get lunch. He packed his bag up quickly as he bid you goodbye. The eye bags on his face only got darker and deeper, you were feeling worried. Maybe he was just as affected by the killings as you were. Just as affected by Ghostface as you were. It was still hurtful.

It hurt even more, knowing that your heart would beat rabbit fast at the thought of him. It was clear now, crystal. You liked Alex; you only wanted Alex. You thought this was mutual. You cuddled, were close, and shared your first kiss at a dumb high school party. Maybe he didn’t feel the same or care about your crestfallen expression as he urged ahead to leave class early.

You tried to repeat to yourself that he was just busy. Though you were unaware of it in his absence, Ghostface had you right where he wanted you. Open, pliable and all his. The phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Ghostface elongates your name, and you can hear his smirk through the phone. “How are you?”

You should just hang up. You shouldn’t even entertain it, he needed to leave you alone. You press the phone closer to your ear.

“Please, stop calling me!”

“Mmm, no. I want to talk to you. Don’t deny me.”

“You just wanna talk because you’re a freak,” you retort and sit up in bed with your hands angrily fisting the sheets. “Leave me alone.”

“Freak?”

Ghostface bursts into a peal of deep laughter. It’s mocking, and you wonder if he’s watching you.

“The only freak here is you refusing to hang up the phone.”

“I-I’m not refusing! I’ll hang up right now–”

“But you won’t,” he interjects quickly. “I know you won’t.”

“And how do you know that? Maybe I’ll call the police!”

“I know you won’t do that, either.”

He’s right. You’re too stricken and impulsive, fighting every word he says with a monologue. Your teeth worry your lips as you take a deep breath, “are you watching me right now? Like in the shower?”

“Yes,” his breathing seems deeper. “I’m watching you right now. You look fantastic.”

“I’m just in my pajamas.”

“I like how they look.”

You shouldn’t indulge in this any longer. It was so wrong, and you were making yourself so vulnerable. Socked feet cross as you turn to glance out your window; there’s nothing there.

“You do?”

“Yes.”

A hand that has a mind of its own comes to the hem of your shirt. The mingled breaths between you two nearly echo on the call, and you’re slipping a hand under the cotton to touch your stomach.

“That’s a nice sight,” and there’s a rustling of fabric as he seemingly shifts positions. “What do you think you’re doing, hmm?”

“Testing you. If you were gonna kill me, you would’ve done it when I was in the shower.”

“I’m not so cliché.”

“Really? I beg to differ,” and you’re not sure where the confidence comes to set your phone down and peel your top off from your body.

Your nipples harden instantly as the cool air. You sit with your chest exposed and a rapid heartbeat, quickly putting the phone to your ear just to catch the briefest groan, “are you still there?”

“Of course. Take off your shorts.”

His command makes you hesitate. Were you really going to go through with this? Ghostface’s voice crackles in the still air, “don’t be shy.”

The drawstring is undone in seconds, loose fabric slipping down your thighs to your ankles before you unceremoniously kick them away.

“There, I did it,” you whisper as if someone was listening to your debauched call. There’s a long stretch of silence and rustling. “Hello?”

“You look really sexy like this,” he whispers in a breathy tone.

If you listen even closer, the wet squelch of him fisting his cock is obvious. Your hand starts at your collarbone and dips to squeeze your tits, “aah…!”

“Play with them, let me see.”

It doesn’t matter that he’s watching you from God knows where; your eyes slip closed as pathetic mewls escape your lips with every grope of your fingers.

“A-Ah, fuck,” you whisper before laying back to let another hand follow the curve of your sternum to the flat of your tummy. Ghostface openly moans when your manicure nails brush against your waistband. He moves his hand faster; you’re intoxicated by every ‘thwip’ of his fist as he jerks off.

“I wish I could touch,” his grunts echo, and he teases himself lewdly with his thumb running over his leaky slit. “I-I’ll fuck you so good.”

Your clit is throbbing when you finally start rubbing pathetic little circles. Writhing, your lips part to breathily whine out, “Ghostfaceee!”

“Ohmy, fuck. Put them inside. Fuck yourself, pretty.”

It’s easy to do what he says, your whole greedily sucks your fingers in deep. Your hand tweaks your nipple while your toes dig into your plush bed, “fffuck me! Oh my god, feels so good!”

“Gonna blow my load all over you—ngh, shit. I can’t wait to touch you for real. Yeah, yeah; fuck. Soak ’em for me.”

Ghostface’s rambling spurs you on, and your fingers rub right against that spongy spot that makes you convulse and gush all over your hand.

“Oh, fuuuck!”

Your face presses hard into the pillows as he cums. You could imagine his hips popping up as he came all over his knuckles. A few minutes pass, and the only thing audible is your mingling breath while you both come down from your eyes.

The phone is pressed to your ear as you eagerly ask if he’s still there.

“I am,” he says slowly. “Have a good night.”

“W-Wait!”

You call back several times, but they all go unanswered. He leaves you spoiled and naked in bed with a slick drying on your inner thighs.

The post-nut clarity left you sleepless and wondering if you had just made the biggest mistake of your life.

The guilt wears down on you like a weighted blanket; every square inch of your body can’t stop imagining the voice, and the guilt coats you in another heavy layer of shame. You try to fight back, but the fabric is never-ending, and you’re useless against its power.

You had to tell someone. Anyone. It has to be Alex; no one else needs to know anything other than him.

[you]: hey

[you]: will you come over?

[you]: need to talk to you

[alex]: be there in a few <3

The heart makes you smile. Locking your phone and setting it aside, you tug your knees to your chest in waiting. How would you tell him? More like admitting to him since you were undoubtedly hiding this fact of admiration because it was so shameful and wrong. Alex knocks lightly on your door, and your voice is shaky when you call, “come in!”

He looks calm, if a bit confused. Alex’s eyes scan you before sitting beside you on your plush bed. He always looks at you with those amber eyes that show pure devotion.

“What’s got you all wound up, huh?”

A gentle hand releases your knees from your embrace, Alex’s arm slinking past the back of your neck to cup you close by the shoulder. You tuck yourself into his side with ease. He hums for a bit, rousing you with a shake.

“Hello?”

“Sorry, it’s just… I don’t know. Something happened.”

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yes! I’m okay,” you take a deep breath, and your head tilts up to peer at him with anxious eyes. “Just don’t freak out that bad, okay?”

He doesn’t reply, only maintaining eye contact as his thumb rubs circles into your soft skin.

“Ghostface… called me. We had a conversation.”

“...What?”

He says your name with a laugh, “you probably just got prank called!”

“No, Alex. I’m serious! Please,” you grab his shirt and tug him so close that your noses brush. “I talked to Ghostface, seriously. You need to believe me.”

“How do you even know it was really him, hm?”

Oh, you knew. The telltaletelltale scratchy voice. The deep, mirthy laugh. How he coaxed you to orgasm through simple words of, “you can go harder than that; I’ve seen you.”

“I-I just know. It was him, he was stalking me.”

“Okay… so Ghostface is coming after you?”

“I don’t know what he’s planning! I guess so,” you bury your face into his beauty mark-dotted neck. “I don’t know what to do. What if he’s just waiting to kill me?”

“No way. He’d be stupid, you already told me. I’m, like, almost a witness to it.”

That was true. Now that Alex knew if anything happened… you’d have someone to back you up. You squeeze him in gratefulness.

“Then what should I do? Hire a bodyguard!?”

“I don’t think you have bodyguard money,” he teases. “But I can always walk with you anywhere, everywhere. And what if–no, never mind.”

“Alex, you need to tell me everything you’re thinking,” you urge.

He looks apprehensive, teeth tugging his lip between them to gnaw at the sensitive skin. He looks all around your room, his eyes landing on a framed photo of the two of you at an amusement park. Alex is grinning while holding a peace sign; your hair flies wildly and without abandon as the sun shines down on you two, “what if we found a way to catch him? You know, set a bait.”

Your face twists up immediately.

“Bait? I’d be the bait! This is a horrible idea–”

“Hear me out! I’d be waiting there and see if he shows up. You could make sure it’s obvious you’re alone. Ghostface comes, I tackle him, and boom! We call the police, and he’s finally gonna be held accountable.”

Alex eyes you, “what do you say?”

It was such a dumb idea. Every part of you screaming to lock the door and shut the blinds. But you don’t. Alex texts you periodically to check in, but the plan was just an unsafe waste of time for a while. But your phone rings at half past eleven.

“...Hello?”

“Hiya,” he croons your name, and your blood runs cold.

“I’m hanging up!”

“Don’t you fucking dare, or I’ll gut Alex myself.

You whimper, “I don’t want to die!”

“Then play a game with me. How about warmer or colder?”

It gives you a sickening pause. You held Alex and your own life in the palm of your hands, the threat of losing what means most to you evident. Your valued life and love would be lost through the gaps of your fingers like rivulets of clear water. You stand.

You had to be brave for both of you.

“Are you in my apartment?”

“Now, you’re playing,” and he chuckles over the phone.

A thick gulp sticks in your throat as you swallow. Something takes you to the kitchen where you peer around the corner to gaze into the yellow-lighted tiles and counters filled to the brim with your things, “colder.”

“Where the fuck are you?”

Ghostface has no reply. You move away from the kitchen, soft steps padding against the ground like a knowing prey animal. You glance at the living room, eyes scanning for a Ghostface-shaped hiding spot.

“Warmer,” his voice lulls, and he sounds so fucking amused that it makes your heart clench.

“Where’s Alex?”

Ghostface has no reply, and you frustratedly groan at him over the phone, “watch your tone.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’re bratty today, hm? All wound up over Alex?”

“Just stop talking about him!”

It makes warmth spread all past your cheeks and ears. You venture forward and stare at the looming hallway before you. Finally, you registered the tremble in your knees as they knocked against each other.

“Hot.”

Your hall closet stares menacingly at you, and your stomach drops. You got to turn, but his voice commands you to stop, “freezing!”

There’s a shake in your lip as your ears fill with salty tears that threaten to spill over onto your cheeks. You blink them away and take step by step closer. Breathing grows heavy and restricted before you’re standing before the hall closet.

“You’re on fire.”

The door is yanked open forcefully, revealing beige and white towels with silk sheets. There was no one there. He lied! Only then, does Ghostface leap from your bedroom door to wrap his arms around you from behind. You try to scream, but a gloved hand slots easily over your mouth as he begins to tug you.

You kick and scream and cry like a petulant child as you fight with all your power. He doesn’t seem all that interested in your pleas. He only grunts softly as you land whack upon whack on him. However, he’s undeterred as he hoists you up like a sack of potatoes on his shoulder.

“No! No, lemme go! Let. Me. Go!”

“Come on,” he drawls your name as he lays you flat and helpless on your back against the couch.

He easily fits over you and pins your wrists to the fluff of the furniture. The two of you stare at each other, and you’re panting wildly with fear and adrenaline. Ghostface adjusts to straddle you, sinking down till his hips are flush against yours.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“A-About what?”

“Fucking me. I know you have, you wanna know how I know?”

“Yes! Yes, please, just–”

The mask is ripped away to reveal a harsh, shocking truth. It’s Alex, sweaty with matted hair that sticks to his forehead. You nearly go limp from the shock and stress as he looks down at you with pleading eyes, “don’t shy away from me, now. You weren’t like this earlier.”

“I don’t, I don’t understand! W-What’s going on, ‘lex?”

You murmur his nickname desperately, watching as he gnaws on his plush bottom lip. His lip trembles as he peers at you, his hands loosening their grip on your wrists. You wiggle a hand free and wrap it around his shoulders, your hand splaying flat against his back and holding him protectively, “but why?”

“I needed you,” he croaks. “I needed you to realize you want me.”

He starts nosing at your neck, lips planting gentle kisses on the smooth expanse of your throat. A weak whine rises and dies from your lips.

“Alex, I–wait, this is!I–”

“What you’ve been craving, right? What you’ve been needing.”

He sucks on your pulse point, and you arch lewdly into his all-encompassing black robes. He’s sticky with spit as he collides the two of you together into a heady kiss.

It’s all you’ve been wanting, but it’s all the wrong circumstances. He presses with such need into you, such desperation; your mouth slips open wider to tangle with his syrupy tongue.

“That’s it,” he huffs and lightly rocks his bulge against your sweatpants.

He’s so hard, you can feel him shudder as he presses forward again to lightly hump against you.

“Wanted to just have you all to myself.”

He joins you once again to heavily make out, both of you growing more and more eager by the second. You bury yourself within him, his hand groping your breast with a groan of satisfaction.

“You’ve kept me waiting,” Alex tugs your earlobe with his teeth. “Every time we cuddled, hugged… I just wanted to fuck you to tears.”

It makes such a hot moan escape, your toes curling as you writhe beneath him.

“Fuck, really?”

“Yes, I needed you more than I could stand!”

Alex’s hands are eager as they skim your stomach to reveal more of your glowing skin. He bites his lip in anticipation, observing as the shirt reveals your perky tits; he can’t help but latch his mouth to your budding nipple and suck.

“Oh, fuuck. Alex, shit.”

“Feels good, right? Mmm, love how these feel.”

He grins before diving in and peppering love bites and suckles along your sensitive skin. Buff arms wrap around your middle and pull you closer, teeth grazing the underside of your tit; he laves a dark mark and pulls away with a wide smirk.

You realize Alex’s clothing is still on. You’re tugging his robes up the minute your eyes are able to focus–he was a god with his tongue, and you needed it more than just toying with your boobs.

“You need to take this, ngh, off.”

“Yeah, you want it off?”

“Don’t tease me, ‘lex. I wanna see you. Not Ghostface.

It gives Alex pause, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he pulls back to look at you.

“... You really mean it?”

“Yes,” you purr. “I really do.”

Alex quickly tugs off his draping outfit, sighing as his bare, caramel chest is given its glory. Suddenly, you see him for who he is. A man, a man you’re soaking your panties for. You need him like a fish needs water.

The two of you meld together like it’s all you’ve ever known. In a way, Alex is all you’ve ever known.

Your hands greedily feel him up, squishing his pecks and running your thumb over his hardening nipples. His hips pop once with a meek whimper escaping him, “I-I should be doing this to you.”

“But you’re not,” you taunt and latch your mouth to his chest and suck.

A keening whimper escapes Alex as his fingers tangle into your tresses, pushing his chest further into your tongue with a whine.

The two of you meet in a sloppy kiss, Alex pushing you onto your back as he leaves love bites down your neck. He leaves more on the other side of your breast, sucking soft, supple skin to leave bruises of remembrance.

Alex pauses, his eyes flickered to yours and a steamy gaze, “can I… Can I eat you out?”

It doesn’t feel weird, even if he’s your best friend. Your knees fall apart wider as you give a shy nod, “y-yeah. Be gentle—I’m sensitive.”

He hums and levels with your pussy. Alex’s right hand comes to entangle with yours as his breath fans over your soaked panties. You both stare in a terse, heated moment before he’s licking with the flat of his tongue.

“Ooh! Shit…!”

Alex makes it sloppy while teasing you over soaked cotton. His smirk is evident when you cry out and practically crush his hand as he laves over your swollen clit.

“You taste like candy,” he pulls your panties to the side with a groan. “And you’re so wet.”

“You’re embarrassing me—aah! Ohmygod, ‘lex!”

He dives in like a man starved, and in a way he is. Alex slurps messily at your folds, tongue swirling your creamy hole before sucking your clit into his hot, wet mouth.

Your fingers grip and tug ferociously as you grind your cunt against his face. Alex’s eyes slip closed as he loses himself in you, his adept tongue working you open.

It burns hot and white as your stomach clenches. You ride his face, and he lets you, “‘lex!! ‘M gonna cum!”

There’s a wet, inaudible groan, and Alex is pressing his tongue at your entrance and tongue-fucking you. The hot strand of pressure snaps, and you cum with a needy cry.

“Alex,” you sob out, knees squeezing his head as he helps you through your orgasm. “C-Can’t! Too much, please!—”

He pulls away with a glistening mouth and jaw. He’s so hard in just his boxers, and you can taste yourself as you bring him in for a messy kiss.

“I can’t believe I just,” you cut him off with another desperate peck, “mmf—just ate you out.”

“Don’t brag about it,” you murmur against his lips before he settles back on his haunches.

Alex starts to claim he’s not “bragging,” but you hone in on the reveal of his thick, bobbing cock after freeing it from his boxers. The fat tip smears pre-cum on his navel and your mouth waters. God, you needed him.

He fishes out a condom from his black robes, and you draw close to help roll it on. He’s hot to the touch and shivers at how your hand barely wraps around him, “thank you.”

Your hand is still on his dick as you smile up at him. Alex gives you a tender grin before motioning you to lie back. He uncoils like a snake, stretching across you to lay between your legs. His dick just barely brushes your throbbing clit, and you jump at the contact. Alex swallows and seems nervous as he grips his base.

“I-I love you,” he says. “I love you.”

The world seems to stop for a moment. You stare into the galaxy of brown amber held in his eyes.

You can hardly breathe, and you swear your heart’s crawling up your throat and about to beat past your lips. Alex’s eyes search yours for something, anything. You hadn’t realized how silent you’ve been, “I love you, too.”

Alex laughs and scoots a little closer, his cock head just barely pressing against your fluttering hole.

“God, you really made me nervous there.”

“You’re about to be inside me! I wasn’t ready for a confession…”

Alex kisses your pout away and sinks into you with a hefty groan, “holy shit.”

You’re scratching his back from the deliciously sinful way he stretches you out. With the legs looped around his hips, he starts to shallowly thrust. His dick plunge is deep and drags heavy amidst your spasming gummy walls.

“Fuck me, oh, yes!”

“Ngh,” he grunts, and his hips are hitting yours with punishing claps.

Alex makes you submit, laying there in a writhing heap as you take him in your guts. His hips angle upwards, and he’s battering your g-spot while uttering sweet nothings into your ear, “you’re such a good girl. Ah, ah, fuck; c-can’t believe I’m fucking your pretty pussy.”

Your lips are swollen red and parted as Alex fills you entirely over and over and over! You cling to him in a pathetic embrace, barely able to keep your eyes open while staccato moans fill Alex’s ear.

“Alex, I-I can’t for m-much—ooh!! Ohgod, gonna cum…!”

In between your sweaty, grinding bodies, Alex’s sneaky hand slinks down to messily rub your clit, “you’re fucking perfect.”

His voice shakes with a compliment, and his thumb presses his hard circles on your sensitive nub. It’s enough to break you down in a mix of cries and sobs as you cum all over him, “oh fuu-huh-ck!”

Alex inhales sharply, chasing his own high as your walls squeeze him during your orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck. Baby, I—!!”

He lets out a whimpering squeak before burying deep and emptying his balls inside the condom. He thrusts once, twice, before collapsing down onto you with panting breaths on his lips.

You both are exhausted. Your bare foot presses against the cool plastic of his mask, and you blurt your question before you can even think.

“Did you really kill all those people?”

He doesn’t look at you, merely planting kiss after kiss on your exposed skin, “I did it all for you.”

There’s no guilt or apprehension this time. Only the way your heart sings with love.

-

“It’s hard to say whether Ghostface had help this time,” the newscaster reports. “But, it’s an ongoing reminder to lock your doors and report any suspicious activity…”

The screen goes black as Alex laughs and cuts the TV off. Your eyes trace his features, the delicate curve of his nose, and the slope of his lips; he is stunning. Neither of you speak of the mutual dried flecks of blood on each other’s cheeks.