#in my day to day life i throw the word “obsession” around lightly without really meaning it

[possiblynotpayingattention]

Me when people discover "unhealthy and harmful obsessions/habits/etc" are legitimate problems that have real solutions:

[blkkizzat]

ღ 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞!𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 ღ

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐨𝐟 𝟐 (part 1)

18+ONLY MDNI

kizzatober series: Smooth Criminals

Kinktober Prompts: Clothed Male/Naked Female, Thigh Riding, Knife Play Synopsis: The university campus is being terrorized by a copycat Ghostface killer. As a popular sorority girl with a dumb jock bf, you are a prime choice to be his next victim especially given how he can't stop thinking about you. But you're no ordinary Sorority Girl bimbo, now are you? CW: AU college fic. blood obsession/hematolagnia, bimbo reader, murder, slight DV/SA mentions (from your npc jerk ass bf), unprotected sex, masturbation, LOTS of teasing/foreplay, slight age gap (roughly 21 vs 28) and dark content. NOTE: If death/killer romanticization related shit triggers you this is probably a fic to avoid because that is happening all through this bitch. I literally wrote a murder fluff smut fic lmfao. WC: 9.9 of 15.4k Lightly black fem coded (reader is an AKA lmfao) but no descriptors.

A/N: I had no idea so many people would be this hyped for Part 2. No really, I'm shocked! But It gets real here peoples! Lots of smut and dark shit below so please read the content warnings! I don't want no crying in the mentions and DMs cause y'all should know how out of pocket I am by now and I took it there lmfao.

If you riding with me still Thank You for putting up with my OCD bullshit and for all the support, comments and reblogs on Part 1! y'all real asf & ilysm

Enjoy!

Previously:

“Whatever, let’s fucking go Y/N. We have an important party to throw later.” 

Dean grabs your wrist and jerks you away with you barely being able to grab your bag. 

Your stomach twists and you are at a complete loss for words but manage to flash an apologetic look at Choso while you are dragged off. 

However when your eyes meet he looks right through you.

The expression on his face is stone cold and it sends a chill up your spine.

☠

Sigh. 

For the first time ever in your life you are miserable at a party. 

To say you had been excited leading up to today would have been an understatement. The initiation party after rush was one of the biggest events in the greek system and you had led the charge this year in planning the party.

Nevertheless, any cheerful enthusiasm you held had been trampled on by the disaster that had taken place earlier in the day with Choso. 

If getting out of going wouldn’t be more trouble than it was worth you would have faked being sick. It’s not like you hadn’t already stressed yourself into a headache.

Yet here you were suffering through, completely sober. Not even being able to bring yourself to drink away your problems.

How could you even pretend to enjoy yourself when your forced smile cracked as soon as the mental image of Choso’s icy expression looped through your mind?

Your chest got a little tighter each time you remembered and it frazzled your nerves.

Just about everyone and everything annoyed you right now.

Even the party: Hunter vs Hunted, one of your favorites, was soured. 

Typically the theme entailed girls dressed up as various exotic animals or woodland creatures and the boys dressed as safari game hunters or woodsmen. But this time around, no thanks to singular frat boy hivemind, they all got the bright idea to collectively cosplay as Ghostface.

Taking a new meaning on Hunter. 

They couldn’t carry knives on campus of course so they all carried around metal bats which they probably stole from the baseball team.

Sure, let’s all dress up as the masked serial killer while he is still on the loose. 

You rolled your eyes. 

The pilfered bats were a hazard waiting to happen too. You could only be thankful that the party was at Dean’s frat and not your own sorority so him and the rest of those idiots could fuck their own shit up once they inevitably got way too hammered and started swinging them around. 

You mostly just wished they hadn’t changed the plan without telling you. 

Then at least you could have dressed up in line with the horror theme and wouldn’t have had to wear this sexy Bambi costume which although skimpy, the fur parts made it way too hot to be wearing in a crowded party indoors. 

On edge and not being able to leave, you did the next best thing and sequestered yourself in the kitchen pantry. 

It was spacious and a lot cooler than the rest of the house.

You made yourself look busy in there by restocking snacks and making sure there was an ample supply of red cups ready to go around for the keg. 

When someone did notice you tucked away, you gave the best fake smile you could muster and made-up an excuse not to join in on whatever drinking game they were playing promising you would ‘catch up in a minute.’ 

Fortunately for you, most of your friends and sorority sisters were a bit too faded by this point to notice you missing and never joining in. 

Maybe a bit longer and you could slip out unnoticed? 

That was your plan at least until you felt Dean throw an arm over you from behind.

“There you are babe!”

Urgh.

The overwhelming ick and nausea you felt from him touching you rivaled your worst hangover. 

You immediately shrug him off.

“Come on babe don’t be like that. Get a freshman to take over.  We're gonna play rage cage.”

You threw Dean a wary look.

You try to tell him you aren’t in the mood but of course your selfish dickhead of a boyfriend ignores you.

Dean then proceeds to pull your arm and lead you out of the pantry through the kitchen. 

On a different day you probably would have just given in, easier to go along with the flow than cause an issue. Today however was different and the last thing in the world you wanted to do was play fucking rage cage with a bunch of horny frat boys who were just trying to get girls drunk enough to fuck.

“Goddamnit, Dean I said no!”

Your tolerance had boiled past its limits.

You forcibly snatch your hand back, knocking some empty bottles over on the counter in the process which come crashing down to the floor shattering into pieces. 

Your words and movements dripped with so much aggression you surprised yourself, Dean and the people around you who had turned to see what the commotion was. 

”No? No? You’re really telling me no Y/N? After you’ve been acting like a fuckin’ bitch all day since I crashed your make out session with that freak.”

Immediately self-conscious, your eyes darted around the crowd of people that had now turned their full attention toward you.

You hated confrontation and never wanted to be that couple fighting at a party.

Ducking down quickly, you begin to pick up the shattered pieces of bottled glass on the floor. 

The pounding of your headache against your temples grew feverishly and the harsh fluorescent kitchen lights started to make you feel faint, you hoped Dean would just let this go if you backed down. 

“Look, we’ll talk about that later, ok? Just please don’t be an asshole Dean, I really don’t feel good right now.” 

You pleaded with him, quietly trying to quell the situation. 

But true to his infamous asshole nature, Dean wasn’t going to let you off so easily. He wanted to humiliate you as he felt you humiliated him in front of his friends earlier with that nobody loser.

”Now, I’m the asshole?” Dean questioned to his frat brothers smugly.

“Hey, maybe I am for having a girlfriend like Y/N, who would slut herself out for a grade in front of the entire quad!” 

Dean had all but yelled that last part out. Your drunken clown of a boyfriend didn’t care if he caused a scene at your expense.  

Now you had the full attention of everyone in the kitchen. 

You took a shaky breath as you stood up and felt the crunch of broken glass beneath your heels.

An unfamiliar sensation of rage rises within you.

It really wasn’t in your nature to be angry even when you were upset, you mostly just cried but now you were pissed to say the least. 

He has some fucking nerve. 

Especially when you knew no one starting on the football team studied at all and were all automatically passed through whatever easy bullshit major they signed up for.

“Dean–”

You start yet pause for a moment, trying to keep your cool.

“–you know how hard I study.”

Twisting the proverbial knife in your back to wind you up further Dean continued.

“Yeah, Y/N That's what’s so pathetic about it. You get Bs. That pussy ain’t even good enough for an A. I would know.”

Collective gasps, snickers and whispers arose from around the kitchen. Word had spread of your fighting as more people gathered in the doorway.

Typically this is where you would have run off crying. However, you were exhausted mentally and emotionally. You had already cried for a good hour today while getting ready. 

The only emotions you had readily available to tap into was the hidden well of resentment and ire you held for Dean.

“And how would you even know what good pussy is Dean? You can’t last longer than two pumps, is it not all the same for you?”

You snapped back. 

Your fists had formed into a tight ball.

You are so enraged you can’t even feel the prick from the broken glass bottle still in your hand puncturing your skin.

How long has it been since you stood up for yourself? 

You can’t remember the last time you even fought with anyone like this but it felt good seeing the smug look on his face fall as his friends around him jeered and laughed.

“I know how to settle this Y/N.”

Dean mused as he yanked one of your sorority sisters nearby toward you.

“How ‘bout we ask Aaliyah then, eh? She got more than 2 pumps last weekend after you left the party to go chase after Ghostface–”

Your head snaps to your AKA sister in question, Aaliyah, who looked like she saw a cursed spirit as all the color drained from her face. Her eyes shamefully hit the floor before they met your gaze. 

She couldn’t even look at you which only further solidified Dean’s accusations. 

So Dean himself confirmed he’d been cheating on you? Cool. 

With your own Sorority sister, who you considered one of your besties since you both rushed together? 

Even better. 

Blood slowly trickled out of your hand to drip on the floor from how rigidly you held onto the glass but the small red puddle went unnoticed as your whole vision was already saturated with the color red when you looked at Dean who hadn’t even finished his disrespectful tirade. 

“–Although on second thought, it was probably an excuse for you to go suck off that loser freak TA of yours right?”

More heckles erupted from the crowd around you and you don’t think you have ever hated someone so much in your life as you hated Dean right at this moment. 

Sure you were upset with Aaliyah but your fury was purely focused on Dean. 

He had some nerve to start so much shit earlier over an almost-kiss when he was fucking your good friend behind your back. 

“And how fucking out of her mind was she then, huh Dean? Would she even remember? You pathetic piece of shit...”

You get directly in his face. 

“...that limp dick of yours fumbles orgasms like you fumble passes. That’s why we lost the big game last week. And guess what? That's also why we’re now OVER!”

Dean’s bulky build towers over you but he might as well have been 3 feet tall to you as the razor edge of your words eviscerate him.

“So who’s the fucking loser now Dean?”

Everyone in the room was stunned into silence by the venom dripping from someone they had never even heard raise their voice before.

You don't notice anyone else's reactions though as suddenly you became hyperaware of the large fractured piece of bottled glass cutting into you. 

Your eyes flickered back to Dean as your hand twitches.

For a fleeting moment you felt an inkling urge to drive the glass in your hand directly into Dean’s smug ass face.

Yet whatever dark fury burned in you was instantly snuffed out as you felt a flood of cold bitter beer splash down on you from Dean’s red solo cup. 

”Why don’t you cool off for a bit dear,” Dean cooed at you, mocking you and your now ruined Bambi costume as he and the frat boys around you started to roar with laughter.

That was it. 

You were done. 

Dean had succeeded in humiliating you. 

Any contention or further will to fight within you had dissipated the moment you were doused in beer. 

The glass in your hand drops onto the ground as a dull ache radiates from your wound that continues to seep blood onto the floor.

“I hope you realize this is the last time an AKA will grace this sorry ass frat for a party. I’ll see to that. Enjoy the rest of your night fellas!”

The icy air of your words contrasted with the perfect pageant smile you gave them and it unsettled those around you especially as they all notice the blood gushing from your hand. 

The crowd immediately parts as you leave. No one dares utter a word to you as you exit the party through the side kitchen door. 

You can feel your phone go off as you get a flurry of group texts and missed facetimes. Most of your sisters weren’t even in the kitchen to witness the scene.

You respond to the group chat to tell them just to stay and enjoy the party and turn your phone on ‘do not disturb.’

You just wanted to be alone. 

You’d deal with the fallout tomorrow.

☠

Choso wore a twisted grin hidden under his Ghostface mask.

The hunter vs hunted party meant a perfect time for him to hunt. 

Leaning against a building Choso was shrouded in the dark cover of shadows far removed from campus lights.

Old habits, he mused. There was really no need for him to hide at all tonight. 

He could actually walk around openly as Ghostface now without causing alarm seeing as how most of those fraternity morons were dressed up like him tonight. 

This made things even easier. 

Choso scanned the area for his next prey. 

Someone, anyone alone would do. 

Choso had been itching to spill blood since he had the enticing inclination to slash your boyfriend’s throat earlier.

Currently he wanted nothing more than to see a violent geyser of blood spurt from his next victim. Having it be a shithead frat guy would only sweeten the kill so he had stalked close to frat row for his latest victim.

There.

Seeing movement in the distance, a lone figure, Choso cautiously advances trailing in the shadows towards them until they come into focus under the street lights.  

He nearly does a double take when he recognizes it's you.

Shouldn’t Miss-Perfect-Social-Butterfly be having the time of her life right now with her cretins being crowned queen of the frats or something?

Choso thought bitterly. 

That is, until he got a good look at you. 

You were wet and shivering as you failed to sniff back the tears pouring down your face.

Despite his desire to stay angry with you, his jaw involuntarily clenches as he had never seen you this upset before. 

Something had happened.  

Choso confused look turns deadly as vision travels down to see you nursing the hand you cradled to your chest. He recognizes blood running down your forearm to stain your already soiled costume.

A territorial urge swelled within him, not knowing you had inflicted your own injury. 

You were his prey. 

It was unforgivable for someone else to spill what was his to enjoy.

Choso immediately concluded the cause of it was Dean.

Boyfriend or not he would gladly gut that motherfucker at the drop of a dime. 

He hadn’t forgotten how roughly he had dragged you off earlier. 

And more importantly how you had let that asswipe drag you off. That honestly had fired his temper more than anything. 

A storm of conflicting feelings, Choso yearns to see more of your blood splattered on the ground as much as he secretly covets to have you writhing underneath him.

Should he approach you? 

No. Not yet.

Although, he would never have a more perfect chance than now to kill you if he was ever actually going to go through with it.

Securing his knife on the inside of his robe, Choso silently propels himself after you. 

Never falling too far behind, he vigilantly watches you from a distance as both your protector and predator.

☠

A warm shower was just what you needed but you were pissed you had to wash your hair 3 times to get the smell of Milwaukee's out, which proved insanely hard to do with one functioning hand. 

You could have killed Dean. 

No actually though, as you remembered the dark seething compulsion you felt. 

You weren’t sure what had gotten into you earlier.

Pushing those thoughts to the side though you focused on the gash in your hand, it was pretty gnarly. 

You were just thankful the first aid kit in your sorority house had enough gauze and tape until you could get to the campus nurse tomorrow. 

You probably needed stitches as any sudden movements had the fragile skin of your palm bleeding again.

Returning to your room in a comfy pink cotton bra and thong you throw your towel over a chair.

You start to reach for your fluffy robe when you see Choso’s black track jacket on your desk. It still had the small coffee stains on it from earlier but you opted to slip into it anyway.

Truthfully, you lied to him.

You hadn’t just been carrying it around waiting to give it back to him.

You had worn it more times this past week than you would willingly admit to anyone. 

You even took it on purpose instead of your actual jacket this morning not actually thinking you would run into Choso but when you had seen him, you knew you wanted him to see you in it.

With a sigh of frustration, you dove face first into the pillows of your bed as you curled into his jacket. 

It was your only comfort at the moment. 

Your mind wanders and you can’t help but think of how better a boyfriend Choso would have been to you.

Dean would never let you wear his jackets, no matter how cold you were. He said you were too air-headed and would ruin or lose it. 

Not that he wasn’t right, you definitely were accident prone.

But that's why it had meant so much to you when Choso, not even your boyfriend, had given you his own without a second thought.

You only hoped he didn’t hate you now. 

Not that you could blame him if he did.

Even you hated you a bit for even being with a jerk like Dean in the first place no matter how convenient you thought it had been for you. 

How could you even face Choso in class next week? 

Despite your heart crumpling when you thought of Choso’s cold intimidating gaze being cast upon you again, you admittedly had never seen a look that intense before from anyone. 

It was also impossible to forget the ravenous look in his eyes when he was so close to kissing you. 

He looked as if he would devour you whole. 

God, everything about him was so sexy.

His strong jaw set firm, his eyes dark pools that sucked you in even from memory, his lean muscular body.

You wish you had realized how bad you had been crushing on him sooner. Before everything got so fucked up. 

You fidgeted as an ache developed between your legs.

Turning your head to the side you used your bandaged hand to gently push his jacket collar into your face. 

It still smelled like him despite how many times you’ve worn it this week and despite the faint smell of old coffee from earlier.

Squirming on your bed, you tried in vain to keep your legs from sliding against each other creating more friction as your body became increasingly hotter. 

A shameless whine escaped your lips as you huffed his woody masculine scent in and out. 

Your legs rubbed together more eagerly. 

Shit, you were so horny. 

Still laid flat on your belly you lifted your hips up for access as a manicured finger pressed into your clit toying with yourself from the outside of your pink cotton thong.

Choso was so meticulous, so knowledgeable in everything he did you were sure he knew how to make you cum. 

You were desperate for him as you remembered what it felt like when he caught you from falling last week. 

How good would his sculpted chest feel pressed into you now?

Would he look at you with the same want that flared across his features when he had gotten a glimpse of your panties you had intentionally put on display for him? 

You didn’t miss how it matched the look he gave you when he nearly kissed.

“Choso…”

You moaned out loud. 

You could feel the wet spot your teasing was earning you spread over your thong as your cunt continued to drool over your fantasies of him.

Craving more you lifted your ass up higher while your fingers fumbled to slide under the flimsy fabric.

“A-ahhh s-shit Cho– F-fuck!”

You panted as you sunk two fingers into your cunt. You worked to diligently pump them in and out of you as you pressing your palm down firmly over your swollen clit. 

Your face buried itself deeper in his jacket as you gasped and your warm breath pushed back against you as you imagined it was his own tickling your neck.

All your senses screamed with want to be consumed by him and you pined for the feeling of his cock stretching your wet cunt instead of your slim fingers that weren’t cut out for the job.

“F-fuck C-Choso.. Mmm, let me cum.” 

You practically sobbed when you glided a third finger into your pussy, two wasn’t enough to quell the craze that had overtaken you.

Ironically and unbeknownst to you, Choso (who had hidden himself in your closet during your shower), was mere moments away from losing his own goddamn mind.

Wholly entranced, he listened to you wantonly call for him like a sweet siren song and watched utterly fixated on the way you fiercely finger fucked your pussy like it was his own cock.

All the while in his jacket sniffing the sweaty soiled material like some filthy fucking pervert.

Fuck!

When he had followed you back to the sorority house he had finally resolved to kill you, but now he was at a standstill as there was no plausible way this was actually happening in front of him.

The obscene ASMR of your cunt sloshing rang in his ears and your legs quivered obscenely with you approaching your orgasm. 

Your desperate thrusts caused his oversized jacket to ride up to your hips revealing the way your ass bare ass jiggled when you drove your hips down and pushed your digits up deeper into your core that waited greedily to suck them in.  

You chanted out Choso’s name with urgency straining your voice as you climaxed. The bed creaked from you now humping the mattress while riding out your high.

Shit you were fucking sexy. 

Thought you'd just been toying with him for fun all this time...

Until now.

Choso’s grip on his knife tightened as adrenaline surged through his body. 

He could feel the blood pumping through his dick. 

He wanted to fuck you. 

Badly. 

Give you what you’ve both been needing all this time. 

Choso fully bricked, suppressed a hiss through clenched teeth as he palmed the bulge in his pants but remained otherwise still.

He can’t imagine a positive reaction if he burst out of your closet as Ghostface nor could he just take off his mask and pop out of your closet as your TA like he was some fucking creeper.

This was pure agony. 

You never failed to find some way to unravel him.

Choso was so tense, his body coiled so tightly, he couldn't control his thigh involuntarily twitching and his knee recoiled against your closet door.

He cursed himself for the millionth time at the lack of control he had around you, he had never had to restrain himself so much around anyone else.

Ecstasy was etched on your features as you looked around puzzled from where the noise came from.

However, the even louder boom of the front door slamming shocked you out of your blissful daze and stole your attention away.

You sat up quickly and wondered if your sorority sisters were back already.

You glanced at the clock.

10:32 pm.

It was still much too early for them to leave.  

But who else could it be? 

You groaned and reluctantly hopped off the bed, zipping up Choso’s jacket fully to hide the slick between your legs and went out to greet them so you could avoid them coming into your room and return to your solitude as quickly as possible. 

You were tired, frustrated and still horny as hell. 

You only wanted make yourself cum hard enough you could fall asleep and end this miserable ass day.    

☠                                                   

“Girls~! You really didn’t have to leave so early~!” 

You call out to your sisters.

It was a little late for a show of solidarity if that's what they thought they were doing.

You rolled your eyes. 

But it was eerily quiet as you received no response. 

That’s odd.

Walking down the hall you froze once the view from the top floor opens into the foyer below and you see the front door wide open. 

Not a single soul in sight or to be heard. 

“Girls?”

Fight or flight senses kick into gear alerting you to the possible dangers below. 

You might be a bit of a ditz but you studied enough forensics and had seen enough scary movies to know how this shit usually ended.

You turn back to run to your room to call someone but stopped as you noticed your phone on the entryway table by the door. 

Crap.

Steeling yourself you slowly inched your way towards the staircase, stopping at times to lean over the banister for any signs of someone.

“This isn’t funny girls! You know I’ve already had a really shitty night!”

But only the hollow sound of wind whipping through the door answered you as it swayed on its hinges. 

This was an older house.

Maybe you didn’t close the door all the way in the beginning? 

No one in your sorority house ever locked the doors, which now you considered probably wasn’t the greatest tradition to keep up while you were at home all alone and a serial killer was on the loose.

You crept down the stairs trying to silence any creaks as best you could.

“I swear on a stack of Vogues if this is a prank you all of you whores will all be on campus clean-up community service duty for the rest of the semester!”

Still nothing but silence as you reached the bottom of the staircase.

The lights were on in the entire house. From what you could tell the den and living room areas surrounding the foyer were empty. 

You sighed. Maybe it was just the wind.

You close the door and this time make sure to lock it as you clutch your phone and turn to scamper back upstairs when you feel something grab at you from behind.

“Want to die Y/N?” 

You let out a screech as you whip your around to see a figure you recognize as Ghostface reach for you as you stumble backwards into the den. 

Tripping over your own feet, you fall back landing on your injured hand and knocking your head against the edge of a coffee table.

A roar of laughter erupts as you groan dazed from the floor.

“You really are a clumsy ditz, babe.” 

Puzzled and near concussed, you blink through blurry vision to see Dean pull off the Ghostface mask as he crouches down to your level and leans on his metal bat tauntingly.

Pain blossoms sharply in the back of your head and you can feel the puncture wound on your hand open and saturate your bandage.

“The fuck are you doing here Dean?” 

You glared up at him through your one good hand that covered your face as you struggle to get your bearings back. 

You couldn’t catch a fucking break tonight.

“Still being a huge bitch even though I came all the way over here to say sorry, eh?”

Dean hummed, brow raised as he chuckled.

“I thought a little fright would put you in a good mood, Y/N.”

“Nice way of apologizing Dean. Insult me, scare me half to death and give me a concussion.” 

You knew this man was not sorry at all.

Someone sober enough had probably informed Dean that you did have the power to essentially kill their fraternity’s social life, cucking his entire house for the foreseeable future. They likely sent him to make things right with you ASAP. 

But even with all that on the line your tool of an ex was such a huge dick he couldn’t even do the bare minimum to give you a decent apology like an actual human being (not that you would have accepted it).

“I see I was right about one thing though.” 

Dean got your attention as he pointed down at the moisture running down your legs.

You immediately pull Choso’s jacket down further to cover yourself. 

You couldn’t give a fuck what he thought at this point. You’d confess to fucking the entire Forensics department if got him out of your face.

“Sure Dean, think what you want okay? Just fucking GET. OUT.” 

You felt dizzy from the pressure thrumming in the back of your skull.

“Yeah and if I say no whore? Then what?” 

Dean slid a clammy hand over your knee which sent another wave of nausea through you, your head spinning.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to stop his hand traveling lower before you suddenly noticed Dean’s body being ripped away from you entirely.

The scene that followed occurred in a whirlwind as your head felt like it would explode trying to focus on anything.

Your eyes strain to keep up with the action only registering fractions of it through your blurred vision. 

You see…blood?

Is it yours?

No. It’s flowing from Dean’s shoulder.

Another person?

No

…Ghostface?

Yes.

Your double vision struggled to pinpoint exactly what was happening as Dean and the masked Ghostface fought for dominance, somehow ending up back in the foyer. 

Dean was barely able to keep the large hunting knife from sinking into his chest.

Was this even real?

Were you really about to witness a Ghostface crime scene in action?

Were you next?

You felt like you were witnessing it all play out through someone else’s body as your mind floated off and you felt more disconnected. 

Your awareness faded in and out.

There was no doubt, you definitely had a small concussion. 

“Y/N!”

“Y/N!”

“Y/N!”

Your head snaps up as you finally hear Dean shouting your name although it sounded like you were in a fishbowl.

He had somehow gotten leverage and evened the odds with the killer as they both now had a hold of the blade’s handle.

“Y/N! Pay attention you ditzy ass bimbo! Don’t just sit there looking stupid, get the fucking bat.”

You scanned the floor around you. 

Sure enough, there was the scuffed metal bat shining back at you resting by your knees.

Your injured hand grazes it and you see a red trail of blood smearing across it as the cool smooth metal soothes your ruptured skin.

“Y/N, what the fuck are you daydreaming about?! Get your ass over here!”

You grip the bat’s handle, ignoring the pain to use it and the coffee table as leverage to push you up off the floor.

You sway on your feet as your blood pressure drastically drops from standing too quickly. 

Your head feels light. 

Your body feels light. 

Surprisingly too, even the large heavy metal bat now feels light in your injured palm. 

“Fucking finally, Y/N!”

Dean yelled as he saw you on your feet.

“It’s not like I’m trying to fight off a killer here or anything dumb bitch.” 

Dumb bitch?

Oh yeah, he means you.

God, Dean was fucking annoying you just wished he would shut up sometimes. 

You couldn’t even think straight. 

What were you doing again? 

Right, the bat. He told you to bring it to him.

You wanted to sit down again. You were so tired.

You couldn't rest though as Dean’s voice was ringing in your ears. 

You just wanted him to shut up more than anything so you willed yourself forward. 

“Give Dean the bat, Give Dean the bat.”

You lowly repeated in a mantra like state.

Your vision was spotted with black dots swirling like the pain in your head.

GiveDeanthebatGiveDeanthebatGiveDeanthebat

You gripped the handle in both hands.

You were going to give Dean the bat.

“Y/N! Goddamn bitch move your lazy fuckin–”

C-R-A-C-K!

The slick sound ricochets throughout the entryway and reverberates in your ears.

C-R-A-C-K!

You feel warm droplets of moisture spray on you.

C-R-A-C-K!

The bat and Dean’s motionless body both simultaneously hit the floor with a thud. 

You closed your eyes.

You felt… relief? 

Like you could breathe again as the hazy veil that had shrouded your thoughts lifted and the throbbing in your head slowly receded. 

You weren’t sure how to describe what you were feeling but it was some mix between euphoria, exhilaration and… freedom?

Well, you were finally free of Dean for good now.

You couldn’t help but be amused by that thought as you wiggle your toes in the warm red liquid that pooled around them. 

A child-like giggle resounds from you. 

Was this post nut kill clarity?

Catching a glimpse of yourself in the hallway mirror you noticed blood and chunks of brain matter strewn all over Choso’s jacket. 

You wouldn’t be able to go without washing it now.

You frowned at the thought of his scent being washed away as well as you unzipped it, checking to see if the stains seeped through the lining too.

You had made such a mess. 

Quick movements out of the corner of your eyes reminded you of the fact you were not alone.

The actual Ghostface killer stood mere feet away from you, his intentions clear as he visibly heaved and extended his knife out to the side approaching you.

You sighed exhausted. 

“I’m not going to be able to blame this one on you, am I?”

Ghostface shook his head, confirming what you already knew.

☠

Choso felt his own adrenaline reach a frenzied peak.

He approached you with the animalistic stature of a predator who was sizing up another. 

You were a killer now, no longer simply his prey.

Proving as much as eyes showed no remorse for the life you had taken.

Yet given what he had walked in on just minutes ago and how distraught you were leaving the party, there was nothing for to mourn anyway.

The only emotion shown was concern for the on coming threat of him as you backed up to keep from his advances. 

Heh, that could just as easily be him right now bleeding out on the floor.

He mused as he side stepped Dean’s body to stalk closer towards you.

Choso smirked, he was only disappointed he wasn’t the one to kill him.

Although he couldn’t deny how beautiful you looked creating your own work of art.

A bit abstract and not as precise as his own methods. 

Nevertheless, Choso continues to be amazed by how his cute and clumsy little undergrad just showed him a darkness he had only previously recognized in himself. 

Choso watches you back away until your ankles hit the bottom of the staircase.

Your feet and hands were slick with blood and you couldn’t find your footing on the steps nor support yourself on the railing so you were forced to scooch up the stairs. 

Yet given your injury even that proved difficult for you.

What would he do with you now?

“W-We’re even right? You saved me, I saved you.” 

You tried to bargain as you saw him crawl up the staircase after you.

Ghostface cocked his head to the side considering your words as he reached you and stopped your escape with a strong gloved hand digging into the flesh of your hip. 

Ghostface suspended himself over you covering your frame entirely and his metallic blade glared in the light as if it would pierce into you at the slightest whim. 

Were you going to die like this? 

Despite the danger you couldn’t help but be a bit turned on.

Especially as Ghostface’s touch reminded you so much of–

“Did you get off on killing your boyfriend, Y/N?” 

Ghosface taunted, speaking for the first time.

“...or were you already this fucking wet from fantasizing about someone else, hm?”

Your eyes widened.

Your mind raced too fast to reach a succinct conclusion. But you were disappointed to hear a voice box distortion instead of the actual person's voice beneath the mask.

Your flurry of jumbled thoughts are paused when you feel the cool caresses of the flat metal side of his blade drag across the skin of your stomach leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

Your chest heaved slowly with steady intensity as your breath shuddered. 

“Are you turned on now Y/N?”

You look away from Ghostface as he taunts as you. You feel more self-conscious considering who you think is under the mask.

Just how fucked up was it you were turned on from murdering your boyfriend in cold blood to save a serial killer who might have been the guy you had just been masturbating to who was also the serial killer Ghostface and very likely about to kill you now? 

Very. 

Very fucked up was the answer.

You would have been ashamed if you could bring yourself to care.

Choso’s jerks your face back to him as the hand with the blade parts your legs. 

The lust in your eyes and your drenched cunt were all the answers he needed.

“AHH!”

You cry out as you feel the smooth metal come down to slap your clothed cunt hard, sliding over your pussy lips. 

You fight the urge to close your legs. You can’t or the sharpened edges of the knife would stab into your thighs.

You bite your bottom lip to the point of drawing blood. 

This does not go unnoticed by Choso as he brings his gloved hand to your lips to soothe the bite. 

His soft leather covered thumb hooks to guide your jaw open, exploring your mouth as you openly moan. 

“Tsk, Tsk, we can't have you breaking skin and wasting more of that pretty blood that belongs to me.”

You shiver at his words dripping in possessiveness and your mouth encloses around his thumb, sucking as your tongue still squirms under its pressure.

A strained hiss comes from Choso and his eyes roam down to admire the slime trail of sticky fluid your clothed cunt dripped his blade.

Before Choso can get a peak at your pussy your hands fly down to cover yourself. 

Amused, Choso gently removes his hand from your mouth to palm your inner thigh as his thumb slick from your spit rubs circles into your flesh.

His coaxing has you spreading your legs wider as he brushes up against the hands covering your cunt.

“Show me Y/N.”

He breathed out.

You pouted and shook your head.

“Is my little slut a liar then? I recall you telling me you didn’t mind if I saw your panties.”

Your suspicions confirmed you gasped in realization but Choso could no longer control himself as his hunting knife returned to your body to trail up your stomach this time the pointy edge hovering over your soft skin.

Your stomach sucks in to create distance between the blade and your skin causing your chest to push up through your arms but it's exactly what Choso had wanted.

Whoosh

With a swift slash through the air his blade slices your bra in two and its straps fall back down your shoulders laying bare your breast and hardened nipples to the cool air.

Exposed, your hands instinctively move from you core to cover your tits.

You see Choso pull back from you to sit up fully.

No longer touching you as he opted to imprint into his memory the imagery of your wet puffed pussy glistening through the soaked and now nearly transparent thong which clung to your lower lips like second skin.

He shifted his mask as the voice box moved from over this mouth.

“Y/N” he sighed.  

Hearing his actual voice had you whining with need again.

Choso couldn’t keep his hands off you for long as he grasped hold of your thong and slipped his fingers between the fabric covering your cunt.

Choso rubbed the sticky moisture on the thin fabric between his thumb and forefingers while his knuckles bullied into your clit, causing your toes to curl.

“Mmm C-Choso.”  

Your hands went from simply covering your tits to messaging them, pulling on your nipples, as you couldn’t hold back the sounds from the pleasure you felt from him touching you.

Shit. He wanted to ruin you.

Choso’s knife returns to your throat applying soft pressure dangerously close to breaking skin.

“So tell me what you want then, Y/N?” 

Choso knew you wanted him but he wanted you to say it. 

He needed you to admit it to him outright before he could really believe it.

His knuckles had stopped teasing your clit and your body trembled as you bucked your hips into his hand and pouted.

“I want you to hurry up and decide if you’re going to fuck me or kill me before my sorority sisters get back Choso!” 

Choso smirked under the mask. 

Becoming a killer turned you into a bit of a brat.

But he knew how to handle you.

Heh, fair enough.

Driving the knife into the staircase behind your head he pulls you up, swapping positions and seating you on his thigh.

He pulls his soiled track jacket off of you and you shiver as the cold air hits your back. 

“Mm, Fuck me Choso”

You sighed longingly, arms encircling his neck.

“Mm, Should I though?”

Choso questions out loud as you melt deeper into him from his hands roaming your body.

One settles on your hip under the band of your thong and the other peels you back by your hair so Choso can see your eyes blown out fully with lust.

“Or should I make you wait like I’ve been waiting ever since you first stumbled into class in that slutty green skirt?”

You cried out and our tongue lolled out of your mouth when he yanked your panties roughly by the front, pulling the material between your pussy lips.  

Your clit was cradled in the steamy fabric and you clutched the front of his robes for stability as your eyes rolled back.

“Do you know how much you made me suffer thinking about that pretty pussy of yours? How many times I fisted my cock? How much blood I spilled to forget the way you looked in those slutty outfits?”

Choso's own desire was apparent in his raspy voice.

You shake your head and tears spill as he pulls the fabric tighter over your clit. 

“I-I w-wanted you too,” you sniffled out.

“Then prove it,” Choso breathed out huskily.

“I want that needy cunt of yours to beg me by fucking herself real nice on my thigh like she did on your mattress earlier.”

You could have combusted as he all but admitted he had in fact been watching you from your closet, still you couldn’t help but obey his orders.

The frantic way your heart pounded in your chest couldn’t trump the unbearable arousal between your legs.

You braced yourself on his shoulders as you began to rock your hips down on him.

“That’s it baby.”

Choso encouraged you as you heard a loud rip and realized he had cut away your thong when you felt him snatch the material right off of you.

Your plump pussy lips parted when pressed onto his thigh and you felt the rough material of his heavy robes directly chafing against your clit. 

Surrendering to pleasure you circled your hips to grind down on him as Choso started bouncing you on his leg.

The impact of your weight forcing your clit down while his thigh pushed up into you shaking.

“S-shiiiit D-daddy!”

You cried out arching back. 

Choso could have busted in his pants completely untouched when he heard you call him daddy. 

You didn’t know how much you had him wrapped around your perfectly manicured fingers. 

He would kill every single one of those bastard frat fucks on campus on a whim if you asked him to.

He would do anything for you.

Choso's muscular thigh flexing underneath your cunt felt amazing but your hole was screaming to be filled as it gaped around the phantom thought of his cock penetrating you.

“N-Need more. S’not enough Daddy”

You beg, whining into the mouth opening of his mask.

Your breath enters through the material as your hot tongue presses against the cloth barrier hungrily. 

His own tongue responds in kind, entangling with yours through his mask and you moan deeper into the opening.

You feel so good yet are still frustrated that you alone are naked while you couldn’t even see a sliver of skin from him still in his full Ghostface attire.

You move to lift up his mask when he stops you, breaking the makeshift kiss.

“Now, now Y/N.”

Choso playfully chides. 

“Can you think of nothing but my dick? You’ve forgotten so quickly this is still a crime scene?”

You panted as you looked over your shoulder and spot the gruesome remains of Dean’s lifeless body and half bashed in face. Blood stained the foyer rug and pieces of tissue splattered on curtains, walls and even the fake plants.  

Right.

You still had no idea what you were going to do about that situation but Dean was already dead. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Honestly you felt as if you might die as well if you couldn’t get Choso’s dick inside of you soon.

Your hips never stopped grinding down on his thigh as you returned your attention to him.

You knew if Choso couldn’t even kiss you, he couldn’t fuck you either as those same rules applied to both potential sources of DNA. 

“S’fine.”

You pout.

“I-I had your jacket, y-your DNA could c-come from that.”

Your injured hand came to cup the slide of his masked face and your other rubbed the outline of cock over his jeans, feeling the precum soil through them despite the thickness of the fabric. 

Blood from your hand smeared onto the pristine white Ghostface mask as you pulled your foreheads to touch.

“I’ll admit Dean was right, w-we w-were sleeping together...”

Choso chuckled.

“...and then get me expelled for sleeping with a student on top of a motive to connect me to your victim?” 

He gave your ass harsh smack. 

Your cheeks clenched and your panting grew more ragged as you chased your high against him. 

“Y/N you gotta think with that sexy little head of yours not that needy little cunt if you really want me to fuck you. I know you’re smart. This should be easy for you.”

You groaned. 

Thinking was virtually impossible right now. 

You wanted to give up and resort to begging again but Choso calling you smart (something your recently deceased ex never did) and now rubbing your thighs encouragingly, had made you so happy you wanted to make him more proud of you. 

You reluctantly stopped your hips, ignoring the fiery ache shooting through in your cunt but you wanted to cum from his cock not his thigh.

You closed your eyes and exhaled a shaky breath.

Focus Y/N, you willed yourself.

Focusing became harder to do though when Choso became impatient and had nuzzled his masked face into your chest.

His mouth latched to your nipple through the black cloth, swirling his tongue and grazing his teeth against your bud causing it to swell.

“Oh!” you smiled sweetly down at him and his abs tightened as he held you closer to him.

“We get rid of the body! Clean up and make sure there's no crime scene to be found!”

“That’s correct,” Choso praised you as if you answered a question in class correctly.

 “Now, most importantly, how exactly will we get rid of the body, Y/N?”

“We…w-we..”

Your fingertips grazed your lips and you bit a nail as you pensively considered your options. 

You looked like you were thinking so hard on this.

So fucking cute.

“Come on baby, tell me.”

Choso was the one begging you now while he lifted your hips just enough to pull up his robes and position you to straddle his dick straining against his jeans. 

You were so close to the answer. He knew it would come to you and he wanted to be inside of you as soon as you got it.

You clasped your hands together and gave him one of your pageant winning smiles he grew to love. 

“We make a kill room!”

“Smart girl” Choso said as he lifted his mask and his lips came crashing down on yours.

☠

“Shit-Shit-Shit!” 

You cried as you lower yourself onto Choso’s cock. 

You had begged and pleaded him for this but Choso was so much bigger and longer than you expected. 

You never had a problem taking dick before but not only was Choso huge he had 3 rows of frenum ladder ball piercings on his long veiny cock that dragged against your gspot when you tried to force him inside you.

You still had about an inch to go and his fat cockhead was already pressing against your cervix.

“Fuck baby, you really been keeping all this good pussy from me?”

Choso spread your cheeks to assist you down on his enlarged length but your walls vice gripped his cock preventing him from guiding you down further.

Choso grunted, he was going to too cum fast if you didn’t ease up.

Pulling you back, he captured your lips again devouring them as he violently pushed his tongue into your mouth in a sloppy kiss, dominating you completely. 

A tremor shot through your cunt as your hips jerked and your legs quivered.

“My slutty girl is so sensitive she came from just kissing?”

Choso teased knowingly pulling back to allow you air and lapping at the drool from the corners of your mouth.

It wasn’t just a kiss. 

Without the hindrance of a mask Choso’s kisses felt like he was eating you alive and set your body ablaze.

Your orgasm came with enough intensity to loosen your walls allowing you to finally sink down to the base. However your legs are still vibrating and unable to support you riding him.

You fall forward into the crook of his neck. 

“C-can’t D-daddy” you babbled into his neck drooling.

Choso wanted to tease you more. He wanted to goad and praise you enough so you would ride him in earnest until your pretty face sobbed for him to fuck you but time was of the essence now.

You both probably had a good hour and a half left before the cops broke up the party and members of your sorority started heading back. 

He needed to finish you quickly and he silently promised to take his time with you later.

Rising up, Choso positioned his arms under your thighs to keep you seated on his cock as he walked up the few steps to reach the landing in the middle of the staircase. 

Placing your back carefully against the wall he glides his hands over your sweat and blood laden skin to lift your legs onto his shoulders. His grip settles onto the fat of your ass and he marvels at how his fingers sink into them.

Choso allows you time to get adjusted to the new position as he now held you in a standing mating press.

“Ready?”

You nod and Choso takes that as his greenlight to rigorously fuck you into the wall with such vigor you felt it quaking behind you.

There was no possible way you could have ever been ready for that though and your hands dive into his hair tugging at the roots under his man buns as if you intended to scalp him. 

Your reactions fuel his cruel thrusts as Choso greedily drinks your guttural screams into his mouth. 

They sound more heavenly than any he had heard before even from his own victims.

Slamming you down on his cock, Choso manhandled you like you weighed nothing to him.  

His piercings and engorged veins continue to scrape the walls of your core with every stroke as you gush around him soaking his robes.

Choso wanted more of you.

He didn’t think he would ever get enough.

You felt so fucking good he could fuck you like this for hours and he cursed the dwindling time he had before he needed to remove himself from the warm comfort of your mushy cunt.

The hallway echoed with sounds of his hips sadistically ramming your body further into the wall as well as the sloshy vulgar noises his cock tore from your tight creamy cunt.

“S-so c-lose Cho–” 

Were the only words you could croak out as your cries become lodged in your throat.

The pleasure you received being folded between Choso and the wall had you salivating like crazy. Drool was pooling in your mouth faster than it could dribble out down the sides. 

You locked eyes with him. 

The wild glint in them was so primordially feral you can’t believe you ever mistook the restraint he tried to maintain around you for shyness. 

Frankly, there was nothing timid about him. 

The cold confidence of a true killer radiated off of him and into your core as each of his thrusts felt like they were stabbing into your womb.

Your whines turned into horse croaks as you desperately gasped for air.

Like a killer he showed you no mercy as his long cock shifted your guts up and into your lungs.

Choso was quite literally murdering your cunt.

“Yeah Y/N? Is my girl gonna cum all pretty like on this dick?” 

Too cockdrunk to reply, your pussy readily spoke up for you as your walls clenched and spasmed. White stars flood your vision as your body vibrates against him as you cum hard, gurgling his name.

Choso’s hips stuttered and his moans increased as he fucked you through your orgasm and chased his own. 

He knew better than to cum inside you, he wasn’t wearing a condom and didn’t even know if you were on birth control. 

But your cunt was like a drug to him so Choso resigned himself to cleaning you up after as he gave one last thrust, injecting you with his hot seed that scorched your insides and sent you spasming all over again.

It took a few minutes for Choso to catch his breath but he gently released your legs down to touch the floor as he pulled out of you.

You groaned immediately at the loss after being so full as you still tried to regain your own steady breaths.

Not missing a beat, Choso moved with reverence as if he was worshiping your form from the kisses he peppered down your chest and belly.

“Eyes on me, baby,”

Choso ordered, glancing up at you. 

You nodded your breath hitching once he reached below your belly button and he threw one of your legs over his shoulder again.

He shamelessly breathed in the scent of sex wafting off your pussy.

The musky mixture of his cum and your juices combined with sweat and blood entered his nostrils and sent his eyes rolling back into his skull.

You shuddered. 

You wanted to feel his mouth on you more than anything but you knew you couldn’t both remain like this in the open hallway for much longer.

Seemingly forgetting all concerns of time, Choso’s thumbs lightly ghost over your battered pussy lips as he slowly peeled back the slippery folds.

His chest swoll with pride seeing how much of his cum you had taken inside of you. 

Choso's tongue salaciously darted out to catch the drippings that seeped out of your messy little cunt.

Despite your concerns, you can’t resist bucking up towards his face as he brought your hips off the wall towards him. 

“Be patient princess, let me enjoy this.”

Choso open handedly spanks your pussy, landing a direct hit on your clit which has you shaking as your squirt spritz onto his face.

His thick tongue rolls out of his mouth like a man starved licking his lips at the feast before him

“Goddamn, I already love her so much”

He cooed into your cunt while looking up at you with puppy dog eyes.

“Go out with me, yeah Y/N? I’ll treat her right. Just let me have a taste of her everyday.”

You almost came on his face again from the utter display of depravity he was showing you, not missing the fact he was so pussy drunk he was technically asking your cunt to be his girlfriend instead of you. 

To be fair you were both way past the point where he needed to ask you out anyway as he was an accomplice to your homicide and soon-to-be cover up.

“Okay Choso, I’ll be your girlfriend,”

You grinned at him.

Choso thanked you by gently placing a kiss on your clit before nose-diving into your folds like a mad man between your legs.

Seeing how sensitive you are it wasn't long before he had you thrashing on his lips from the nasty way he heartily ate your cunt out.

The suckling, bubbling and squeaking sounds of him inhaling your pussy nearly had you at your peak again.

Yet you were snapped out of your pleasure when you heard the grandfather clock in the hall ring signaling it was midnight. 

Fuck what if the party got broken up earlier than expected?

“W-we don’t have time for this Choso.” You plead anxiously as you pry his head out of from between your legs.

The sounds of the clock chiming and the sight of Dean’s body still laying in the entryway made you more nervous with every passing minute it remained there.

His eyes narrowed dangerously on you as he nuzzled his nose back into your cunt hooking it under your clitoral hood.

“Oh? My sweet girl gets one kill and thinks she knows better than me what we have time for?”

His expression dares you to pull him away again as he drags the flat of his tongue lazily over your clit.

“Please Choso…”

Choso relents as he feels you tense up more, he wouldn't be able to enjoy himself unless you were.

“You trust me right Y/N?” 

“Yes”

You breathe out as his fingers play with your puffed pussy lips.

“Do you have the key to the basement?”  

You nod.

“And you know exactly where the supply closet is, baby?” 

You nod again.

“Perfect. This won't take long at all then.”

Choso assures you as his confident words calm your worries.

“So now just relax princess and let me take care of you. This isn’t my first clean up job babe…”

You weren’t sure if Choso was talking about your cunt or the dead body, but you didn’t doubt he was experienced in both.

“Give me 15 minutes to see how many times I can make you squirt on my tongue. Then we can finally make that dexter kill room you like so much, yeah?” 

You nodded once more and Choso wasted no time drowning his face back into your cunt.

You sighed contently.

He was already the best boyfriend you ever had. 

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ

A/N: How was that? Did I do our emo kang justice? Lmk! (y'all better lmk cause y'all busted my balls for days over this lmfaoooo)

Also ding dong Dean is DEAD thank fuck. Whew I made that man as horrible as possible so you could kill him. Tbh, I would kill a nigga just for pouring Milwakees in my hair alone, that shit smells and tastes like cat piss lol.

Also here if y'all wanna see a cute lil pixivi I made of me bimbo!reader x Ghostface!Choso.

You know the original idea for this was actually based on a fic I was writing where Choso, Yuji and Sukuna (all brothers) all transfer to your university and bimbo!reader (no bf this time) clearly likes Choso but his oblivious emo ass has no idea and keeps being a dick to you cause he thinks you are just making fun of him. LOL! I may in the future still end up writing a version for that since this ended up going in a completely different direction with Ghostface thrown into the mix.

Y'all this fic was way too fuckin long. I know theres likely errors/redundancies still so I will comb through it later and I may edit/reword somethings too but general content will stay the same. Tbh, what took so long is the last scene cause I decided I cannot write a smut fic with Choso where that man isn't acting completely deranged and unhinged over the taste of pussy. He's munch, he can't help it.

Reblog for Ghostface!Choso to be your personal munch, but likes and comments are appreciated all the same!

Next up on Kizzatober, Werewolf!Toji from Thrilling Ghouls! (PWP)

ღTaglistღ: @callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @akaza-simp01 @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @samicamy-13 @strvqtt @wisteriaflowersss @spookyy-gracee @jujutsualy @anakalana @crying-person @missphanosaur18 @jazzmynerule @megatqistina @trobed1312 @mimiemie @insomninaz @bloodysweetcat @cyyberm00n @nikkitc0703 @briefrebelfanalmond (so sorry if I missed anyone but I'm delirious rn forgive me ily)

[daddyyy88]

Needy | Eddie Munson x y/n

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 2.6k

summary: Eddie has never given it all to you because he doesn’t want to hurt you, but you refuse to wait any longer. You want all of him and you want him now.

warnings: smut, p in v, oral (I think), squirting, overstimulation, ?

sorry this has taken so long I don’t know writing hasn’t exactly been my top priority because I’ve got a lot going on but I’m still writing as often as I can so new fics are gonna be slow but I promise I’ll be back to posting like I used to soon

The first time you saw Eddie’s dick, you were honestly worried. One, how the hell does he find pants and underwear big enough to fit that thing. Two, how were you ever gonna get it inside you.

He knew that look. A lot of girls wore the same look when they saw him for the first time. He didn’t understand it really, he knew he was a little blessed but he thought he was just a little above average.

So naturally, he went down on you and fingered you till you came 3 times to make sure you were relaxed and wet enough for him to stretch you out. You’d honestly never felt anything as good as Eddie’s cock, and ever since then you’d been obsessed with it.

You’d be calling every night begging him to come over, or to come pick you up just so you could feel him deep in you, feel that overwhelming stretch that felt better than anything you had ever felt before. He didn’t mind too much, he found it adorable how needy you’d get, whining about how much you need to have him inside you.

You almost always got what you wanted, but not entirely. He never sunk all the way in. Majority of the time he was on top, and even when you were on top he’d still be holding you still while fucked up into you. He didn’t want you to sink all the way down and hurt yourself, he knew he was thicker at the base and he didn't want you to go too far.

You had begged and begged him to let you try and see if you could take it, but he would never let you. No matter how hard you begged or how much you tried to force yourself lower, he always managed to stop you.

But tonight, oh you were getting what you wanted. You’d been the horniest you’ve ever been in your life the entire day, feeling your slick stick to your inner thighs whilst you worked and noticing a wet patch on your seat when you got out of the car, you knew you needed him and you needed all of him.

“Ed’s, put the book down” you said as you came in, throwing your bag on the dresser and unbuttoning your work shirt. Holy shit did he hate that shirt, he hated it because it was so provocative and they always gave everyone a size smaller so they would attract customers with their “attractive waitresses.”

But right now, oh god you looked sexier than ever. Your hair was a little disheveled, your makeup making your eyes look darker and even more attractive. He wanted to devour you and make you cum till you couldn’t think anymore.

You worked your shirt off, stepping closer to him as you unbutton your shorts. You got to the edge of the bed and kicked your shoes off before slipping your shorts off as well. He grinned at you as you climbed on top of him, resting your hands on his ribs as you leaned down and kissed him.

“Mm, baby” he groaned through the kiss, his voice low and raspy making your pussy clench around nothing. You moved your hands to his chest, grinding down on his half hard cock. He moaned softly into the kiss, his hands gripping your waist hard.

You lightly tugged at the bottom of his shirt and he pulled away, nodding at you. You got his shirt off and he smiled up at you, toying with the straps of your thong. You bit your lip and he sat up, running his thumb along your bra strap.

You reached behind you and unclipped your bra, letting him slide it off of you. “God, you’re so fucking perfect” he said and scoffed, burying his head between your breasts. Kissing, licking, sucking, he was all over your boobs for a good few minutes.

Once he seemed to finally move on, you got off the bed and said “take off your pants and boxers…please,” He shook his head and complied, groaning when you took your panties off and he saw your bare cunt, slick spreading on your inner thighs.

You whimpered softly as his huge cock sprung out, leaking precum as he hissed, jerking himself off for a little relief. You smiled and crawled on top of him again, running your hands up and down his chest and stomach, watching his cock jump as you felt his thighs up a little.

“Baby please…I need you. It hurts…” he said and you giggled. You bit your lip and lined yourself up with him, sliding down a little and stretching yourself. He sighed relievingly and squeezed your tit in one hand, the other keeping a firm grip on your hip as he moaned at the feel of your tight, warm, and wet pussy on his sensitive tip.

“Go slow, babe. D-Don’t hurt yourself” he grunted out, he’d kill to pound into you till the sun rose but he never expressed it, because he would never risk hurting you. You groaned and started bouncing on him, not going all the way just yet.

He moved a hand to rub at your swollen clit, moaning loudly as your pussy sucked his cock in over and over again. “Baby…fuck, I love this pussy” he said and you smiled.

You grabbed his hands, forcing him to lie on his back slightly and held his hands as you continued bouncing on his cock. He grunted, abs tensing slightly as the pleasure consumed him. Perfect, just what you wanted.

You smirked, kissing down his jawline and neck. Once he was plenty distracted you sat up, his arms still above his head squeezing the pillow now to ground himself. You placed your hands on his chest and bit your lip, quickly sliding all the way down till your clit touched his little patch of pubic hair.

You gasped, moaning loud as your pussy stretched around him, feeling so so full you couldn’t believe it. “Babe!” Eddie shouted and grunted, shuddering as his cock throbbed. Your brows furrowed, jaw dropped as you moaned like crazy.

“Eddie…oh- oh I can barely take it- y- y-your so big- Eddieee!” You moaned, digging your nails into his chest. He breathed a little heavy as he wrapped his arms around your back, kissing you gently.

“Holy shit, you’re so perfect!” He said and you whimpered. You lifted yourself up and slammed back down, nearly knocking the wind out of yourself. He was so deep, and so thick you could already feel yourself getting close.

You only bounced a few more times before you were cumming hard, screaming Eddie’s name and squeezing his cock so good he couldn’t even think straight. “Haggh! Good girl…yea, cum so f-fast on daddy’s cock” he said and you cried his name, whimpering as your orgasmed continued to hit you in waves, your clit twitching hard as your pussy spasmed around his dick

“I- Uhh! Eddie! It’s too much- it- ahhh!” You moaned, tears streaming down your face from overstimulation. He gently pulled you off and you panted heavily, resting against his chest. “Eddie…” you giggled and he hummed, caressing your hair.

He was a little upset at you for doing it without warning and pushing yourself too far, or so he thought. “Need it again…please?” You begged and he furrowed his brows. He sighed and said “it was too much for you”

“No, I want it again” you said and looked up at him, straddling his lap. He kissed you softly and said “you just calmed down from the first one, baby you need to relax for a second” “Ed’s…” you whined, pawing at his chest.

He rolled his eyes and said “turn around then,” You smiled and turned around so your ass was facing him and he sat up, getting ready for you to sink down on his cock. He kissed your neck a few times and said “come on, babe, let me feel that pussy again,”

“Thought you wante-” “shut up,” he whispered as he pushed you down on his dick, making you whimper. You let out a strangled moan, your thighs tensing slightly as you got used to the feeling again.

You took all of him, whimpering and writhing on his fat cock. He grunted and squeezed your hips, biting your shoulder slightly. You groaned and started to bounce, holding one of his hands and reaching behind you to pull at his hair with the other and keeping him buried in your neck, just where he liked.

“Fuck! It’s so good- it’s so good!” You babbled mindlessly. He grunted and chuckled, palming your ass. You were so fucking sensitive, you didn’t know if you were gonna be able to get him there before you came again.

He smiled as he watched you bounce on his cock, face twisted in pleasure as you pulled at his hair and squeezed his hair. He grunted and said “could watch you ride me all day, gorgeous…”

You mewled at that, groaning harshly when he started to fuck into you slightly, feeling like the wind was being knocked out of you. He smiled and ran a hand over to your front, pushing down on the bulge of his cock in your lower tummy. You gasped and looked down, moans growing louder at the realization of how big he was and how deep you were taking him.

You whined, crying out as you started to clench hard around him. He groaned and bucked his hips harder, wanting to cum with you. You gasped as your legs shook, a sob racking your body. You didn’t know what he was doing to you, you were cumming so easily and so hard you couldn’t handle it.

“Fuck, babe…so sensitive,” he said, rubbing your clit. You nearly screamed, your pussy clenching so hard as you squirted all over him. Your whole body was shaking, your breathing all kinds of messed up and your moans and whines flowing out freely.

Your mind felt fuzzy after you finally stopped, nearly slumping over if not for Eddie holding you. He got you off his dick, laying you next to him as you panted hard, clinging to him. “Fuck,” he groaned, looking down at his angrily red cock. He needed to cum so bad, and he knew you didn't mean to but fuck he was really worked up.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry, I’m sorry” you started to apologize and he shushed you, kissing your head and holding you close to him. He smiled and said “it’s alright, princess. I know, I know, you just can’t handle me, hmm? Too big for my little princess”

You mewled, peppering kisses on his jawline as slick gushed from your pussy again. You were so tired and sore but you wanted to make him cum and you’d do anything to get him there.

“Ed’s…” you whimpered, grabbing his hip. He shook his head and said “babe, uh uh, you’re gonna overdo it. I’m good, I’ll take care of it” “no, no Eddie….please” you said and he sighed.

“One more,” he said and you nodded, biting your lip. He kissed you softly, swallowing the moans you let out when he cupped your pussy, playing with the stickiness between your folds and toying with your clit.

“So wet, baby,” he said, jerking himself off a little to get him somewhere. You gasped softly, your breathing shaky and irregular. He grunted and you mewled as you watched him fist his cock, the tip reaching above your belly button.

“I want it Eddie,” you whined quietly, looking up at him with pinched brows. He cursed at how adorable you looked, getting into missionary so he could see your pretty face while you came around his cock.

“Yea? What do you want, baby? Tell me,” he said and your breath hitched as his mushroom tip circled your clit. You whined and said “I…I want your cock, I want all of it! I want your cum inside me, please!”

“Shhh, pretty girl. I’m gonna give it to you real good, don't you worry” he said and kissed you softly, sliding himself in and thrusting at a good pace. Not too slow, not too fast, just enough to let you adjust to the feeling.

“Awh, so fucking tight…” he grunted and you whimpered. You squeezed his shoulders, nails digging in his skin. You furrowed your eyebrows, moaning Eddie’s name and squirming as he began to drill his cock into you.

He grunted, sucking your tits into his mouth, tongue swirling around your nipple. God, he was a slut for your tits. Whining into your boobs, he sped up his pace as much as he could.

“Mmh…Ed- E-Eddie!” You moaned and he grunted, panting softly as his eyes squeezed shut. He thrusted hair, your pussy swallowing his dick and making him see stars. “fuck…” he whispered, squeezing the sheets beside you.

You whimpered, hands tangled in his hair as your pussy fluttered around his cock. “Shit- shit uhh…oh god, I’m close!” You moaned and he moaned into your ear, your pussy squeezing him deliciously.

“I’m almost there baby….agh! Almost there!” He said and kissed your neck a few times, squeezing your arm slightly as he tried to keep the same angle that was making his dick throb so hard he thought it might fall off.

“I can’t….ahh! Don’t stop, don’t stop till- shit- till you…fuck!” You cried out as you squirted around him again, you were so sensitive but you needed him to cum at least once. He rubbed your clit, making your eyes roll back as your legs shook hard, stomach clenching as he thrusted as fast as he could until he finally exploded in you.

He nearly screamed as he came, burying his cock deep inside you, grunting and panting as he came endlessly. “Y/n- fuuuck! It’s too good- it’s too- ughhh!” He groaned, pumping his cock into you a few more times as his cock throbbed inside you.

“Baby…hey, hey look at me,” he said and caressed your face. Your eyes fluttered open as you whimpered, looking up at him. “Hurts…” you whimpered. He kissed your head and said “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Fuck, I knew I should’ve stopped I’m sorry. Why didn’t you use your safe word, huh?” “Just wanted to make you cum…” you muttered tiredly.

He sighed and started to pull out and you winced, pulling at his hair. “Ahh- babe! You know it’ll be okay once I’m out. Just relax,” he said and you sniffled. You curled over on your side once he pulled out, panting slightly.

Eddie grunted and stood up, collecting himself as he quickly realized that was not just any orgasm. He groaned and grabbed a towel to clean himself off. He winced, his dick super sensitive from the most amazing sex you two have ever had.

He put on clean underwear and made his way to the side you were facing, brushing your hair out of your face. “You don’t have to do anything, you know? We don’t have to finish with each other, I don’t have to finish inside you, none of that. I only want you to feel good” he said and kissed your head a few times.

You moved to lay on your back and sighed as the exhaustion took over. “What about you though?” You asked, playing with his hair. He chuckled and said “I always feel good with you baby”

You rolled your eyes and he chuckled, wearing stupid boyish grin. He smoothed your hair back and kissed you softly, humming into the kiss. “You’re perfect, you know that?” He said and you blushed, looking away.

Taglist: @readsalot73 @hellfire1986baby

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Lo’ak

Neteyam

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

[twoflowers]

Sentimentality - Sanji x Reader

Read on AO3

Description: The newest addition to the Straw Hat crew grapples with their easy affection, and especially with the attention from their doting cook.

Tags: SFW, character study, slight slash, scientist reader, no use of Y/N, female reader. First impressions, nakamaship.

Word count: 1397

Special thanks to @mere-mortifer for the encouragement to post my Sanji fics. I love your Sanji very much.

This one isn't very slash-y and honestly feels a bit incomplete to me, but I'm obsessed with this man in a psychological way and need to post at least something, even if it captures only an ounce of my insanity about him and the crew.

Also: thinking about making this into more of a series (as the reader is kind of based on an OC of mine...!). Please, please, Sanji fans: give me any and every prompt you can imagine.

__

Sentimentality

Every morning you settle into the golden-glowing comfort of the breakfast table: the press of arms against arms, the jostling of bodies to the time of the waves, the hard wooden bench softened despite it all. 

The captain is not at all what you expected. He’s a kid, and a downright grabby one at that. You have to slap his rubbery hands away from your plate at every meal, and if you don’t catch him, Nami always does.

You sit next to Chopper, whose tiny, furry body is so very warm. He likes to plan the day over breakfast, still thrilled to have another scientist on board. You watch him nibble at pancakes with his blocky teeth (it really is hard not to coo over him, but he has his dignity to uphold, so you restrain yourself!) and sip his milk and grin, white mustache and all. Robin leans over with a napkin to clean Chopper’s mouth, and he fusses, but concedes. Some of his drawings hang on the fridge, secured by magnets. You think of siblings with a pang in your chest every time you see them.

Roronoa Zoro is inexplicably softer than you imagined. There’s something about the curve of his cheeks, the careless sprawling stance, the way his nose whistles lightly while he sleeps. He barks laughter at Luffy, leans on his swords like they’re children, even smells better than Nami likes to say.

Robin terrified you at first, but you quickly became a sucker for her mellow gaze and old book smell. Besides, educated women are always of interest to you. Nami and Robin are incredible, always encouraging: proof that somehow, someway, a woman who has been chased out of her old life and hunted by the darkest parts of herself can uncurl and be seen. 

The first few sleepless nights aboard the Going Merry, you stared at the ceiling, heart pounding at the vulnerability of sharing a room. You are a scientist. You’ve long denounced the need for sentimentality, though Luffy manages to wring a few spare drops out of you every day. How could you have accounted for the love that permeates every board of this ship? How have you gone your entire life wondering if belonging like this could exist, only to find it among a notorious pirate crew- a crew who, really, is more bumbling than you could have imagined? How can Luffy stroll into any place- town, restaurant, heart- and break down every wall without a second thought?

And the cook… 

You have to look away from him sometimes. The first time he made a meal for you, he sank to a kneel to present it, like he was a servant and you were a queen who could take his head at any moment, and have it willingly. You took the plate with shaking hands and nodded a thank you. When he stood back up, there was a bit of dust on the knee of his fine-pressed pants. You kept your eyes on it as he fluttered around, crooning to the women and brusquely serving the men. What were you supposed to make of that?

Sanji squeezes your heart like it’s an old rag. The way he remembers your favored flavor profiles makes your toes curl. You’re not even sure you’ve managed to smile at him yet, even a month after joining the crew, because he throws you so off-balance you’re left feeling like you’ve been thrust into a hurricane without any solid structure to grip onto.

His… whatever it is- admiration, loyalty, devotion, all of the above and more- has only gotten stronger in the past month. He floats into the lab as if on a cloud to tell you he made you a snack and left it outside, mindful of the potential for contamination. He tells you how lovely your eyes look that day, and every day- that you are the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, and that he lives to serve you.

“A snack for you is outside, miss,” he says today, like he’s itching to bow. “I prepared carrot cake and spiced milk for you, with turmeric, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Let me know if anything is not to your liking.”

You side-eye him from your bench, pipette paused in midair. Miss, miss, miss. Every time he says it you’re left breathless. As usual, you nod and mutter a thank you, still focusing on your work, lest you do something stupid like offering him your hand to kiss or backing him into a wall to taste his neck.

He usually leaves right away, but you don’t hear the door close today. When you look back at Sanji, he’s beaming, eyes practically heart-shaped. 

“May I make anything else for you?”

“No. That will suffice.” Something in your chest is shouting at you for being so formal with him. 

“I like carrot cake,” you add.

Sanji’s smile turns tremulous and melty. A hand moves to cover his heart. “I will keep that in mind. And I don’t wish to disturb you- your work is very important- but it will be best eaten soon, while it’s still warm.”

You surprise yourself by setting down your pipette and moving to the sink to wash your hands. Sanji is still lingering at the door as you scrub between your fingers and under your nails, similar to the way he washes his after handling raw meat. You take extra time drying off, the feeling of him behind you prickling at your neck. 

In the hallway, the cake and milk are placed carefully on a table. The mug is to the top right of the plate, handle tilted at the perfect angle for you to grab. A dainty dessert fork leans against the plate, next to two sprigs of mint forming a heart.

“I almost don’t want to eat it,” you say. “It looks perfect.”

“I can make you as many as you’d like, all with love. Please. It’s my pleasure.”

You lift the fork, and Sanji leans forward with the eagerness of a child witnessing a magic trick. When you take a bite of the cake, his visible eye widens.

“It’s delicious. Thank you, Sanji.”

Sanji lets out a shaky breath. “Of course, miss. I can make you anything your heart desires, provided I have the ingredients. And if I don’t, I will make sure to procure them as soon as we make landfall. And if you want them before that, I'll swim to shore.” 

Why does the man have such puppy-dog eyes? You know with certainty that he would do anything you asked of him, or else die trying, and you’ve hardly spoken to him. There’s a string of tension in his body when he’s around you, loosened slightly now that you’ve complimented his food. Is he just that eager to please?

You have met many men happy to go through the motions of wooing you for one reason alone, but something about Sanji tells you that he would be at your beck and call for the rest of your life, even if you never said “thank you” again.

You nod, moving to try the spiced milk, which is, of course, perfect. 

“I noticed that you like cinnamon, so I tweaked the recipe to add more.” He sounds hopeful. “You don’t find the turmeric overpowering?”

“No, no,” you shake your head, lowering the drink. “It’s good. You’re very… perceptive.”

“Of course! I pay special attention to my lovely ladies.”

You’re included in this group, somehow. Why does that make you want to push and prod at him, despite the measured indifference you’ve culminated?

“Sanji,” you say, and he snaps to attention.

“Yes?”

“Could I have some marmalade with this?”

This is the first time you’ve requested anything from him. A broad smile spreads across his face. 

“Right away.” He falls into a bow before walking down the hallway. When he’s out of view, you hear him begin to run, legs pounding the wooden floor strong enough to rattle the pictures frames on the walls. 

You pluck a sprig of mint from the cake, grinding it between your teeth. It’s refreshing, new, with a bit of a kick. You smile to yourself, imagining Sanji in the kitchen, carefully scooping marmalade into a dainty dish, heart thrumming with the thrill of receiving an order from his newest object of affection.

[ephemeradream]

Seashells a' Shining (Part 4)

↬ Character: Floyd Leech, Mershark!Reader stalking, fluff, worldbuilding, character study, obsession

(Just realized this but Reader will have default traits. They are a Tiger/Leopard Shark Mix, They have a set of likes/dislikes, They are somewhat short just a bit taller than Riddle, and they have a unique magic)

(( ))

You find yourself in a rather… horrible predicament as you’re cornered by a few of your dormmates. They were angrily waving about pieces of paper and shouting about how you lied didn’t hold the end of the bargain with them. What was the bargain? Simple. In exchange of not having to work any shifts at the Monstro, you did homework for others. Why? Again, simple reason, you already helped at your family’s business back at home. Certainly, you didn’t want to work while attending school. That’s lame! You’re here for a good time, obviously.

Which was why you began offering to do homework for others. Slaving away at copious amounts of papers… With a special ink that you personally made during potions class one day, of course. Nothing ever good came without a price to pay- as said by your family multiple times throughout your life.

“We all got in trouble because of you!”

“Professor Crewel gave me an essay on why turning blank work in isn’t acceptable!”

“Trein had me stay behind class for extra lessons because of the wrong answers!”

 “Technically, I never did say I would answer the questions correctly or leave them on there. Copying’s against the rules you know?” You state with a shake of your head with a mock shrug. “You guys just made that assumption on your own, you bottomfeeders.”

           There was really nothing wrong with tweaking the agreement you made with anyone who wanted your help. The ink that you made that vanished or changed the answer to a wrong one once the papers were turned in? Not your problem. Just theirs. After all, hard work pays off in the end… Or in your case, being cunning.

           A chorus of disagreement echo in the empty hall as they throw their crumpled papers to the floors. A mixture of pens and arms in the air as they readily begin their attack on you. Your lips stretch to a grin, revealing the pointed teeth you hated so much. Eyebrows downturned, eyes crescent as you bring your own pen out. A little fight here in there was great and compared to what happened the other day with Floyd, you much preferred this one.

“Bellies up!” You shout the words to your unique magic.

           Just like that, the group of males become stiff, falling all around you onto their backs. Unable to move. You chuckle as you look at them before clearing your throat. Covering your much disliked smile until it went away. Not the offensive type of magic you thought you’d get, Bellies Up was a defensive type. Causing anyone around you to immediately become paralyzed and exposing the most venerable part of their bodies. Their stomachs. You usually used this for big groups like this, or for fast prey back at home.

Still, you think, while taking out your phone. Woest you, for not having a cool attack magic like your siblings. But it’ll have to do since you can’t change unique magic. You walk over to one of the males on the floor, placing your foot on his stomach and giving it a harsh step. Pressing record as you do so with a smirk.

“My my, what a shame for my fellow dormmates to be found in… a defenseless state.”

~**~

           You enter your room, rolling your shoulders before flopping onto your bed. Groaning as you rub your face into your pill- Wait, hold on. You lift your head up, scrunching your face as you lightly sniff it. Weird. It doesn’t smell like it usually smells…. Whatever, you were probably super tired from everything that happened. With a small shrug you flip onto your back, cuddling the pillow as you reflected your day.

           Classes were great. You talked to your family for a bit during lunch. You may have eaten a bird or two… Out of curiosity of course! Made sure those unruly guppys from earlier knew who the boss was. May have even recorded them in unflattering positions… For future reminders of course… And now! You get to rest a bit before doing homework. You squeal into the feather filled pillow, rolling side to side from pure happiness.

           As you settle on your side, facing the night stand next to your bed, your eyes zero in on something new. It’s a new seashell! In the back of your mind, you question how it got there, but its quickly forgotten as you snatch it up. The shell was beautiful! It was spiraled with two tones to it that made it almost hypnotic. Turning it side to side. With all the seashells decorating your room- courtesy of your family and the ones you found lying around- you wonder if you had accidentally left it there. Or had it fallen from the seashell chime that hung over the bed.

“Hehe, you’re going in my cool collection.”

[muffindaddystyles]

22! angst to fluff pls love ur works <333

THANK YOU SM EVERYONE FOR REQUESTING HOPE YA'LL LIKE IT LOVE YAA !!!!!!

Harry hates one thing, most. That’s silence. Still, Y/N gave him a silent treatment knowing how much it drives him insane. It pinches him in throat in the most sickening way and makes him vicious about their fights more.

She has her reason too. Anyone would have a right to be mad if their boyfriend will be seen going to bars with models and cherry on top it turns out be his ex.

In his defence it was a PR stunt to keep the quietude about his dating life since Y/N and Harry’s relationship is private for Y/N's sake.

“You could’ve atleast told me, tha' you were going with her?” Was all she said. Confusion and insecurities and the images of her glued all over him mocked her in the most brutal way before she was distancing herself away from him.

He did anything in his will to bring her back to him, apologised and tried to shower her in kisses, making her brekkie and staying at home but she kept on pushing him away.

The problem wasn’t him. It was her. She blamed herself. He’s been nothing but so gentle with her and she’s towing him away like a used tissue.

Harry knew Y/N anxiety was always at bay and he didn’t want to worsen it by going public but it was biting him in arse as questions upon questions were thrown at him for past three years.

It's Saturday morning and she appears from the guest room after ages, the sight for sore eyes.

Harry’s eyes that were staring the tiled wall of kitchen flitters towards her and his gaze turns soft when he sees her drowned into one of his lilac sweater (she missed him so much and felt awfully hollow and cold sleeping in the bed that doesn’t smell like him at all; so she did what could comfort her best).

She looks so small and frail as if the demons of the lone bedroom swallowed her whole.

Heavy eyebags digging away the glimmer in her eyes, her cheekbones prominent and the pinkness of her eyes visible telling how much she’s been crying.

He turns expressionless on purpose when she meets his gaze and isn’t what she wanted? Some space to figure her thoughts out – but that polite gesture turned into a silent treatment from Harry’s side this time.

She knows that he’s more of a meanie in this game than her because he’s the one that never let things bottle up, his eyes gives away everything but right now they’re just murk of anger.

“Can we talk?” Her voice dim from crying for days and Harry elevates his shoulders carelessly, wrinkles on his forehead and his frown deep as he shrugs, “Dunno. Realized t’pick y'puppet back, your eminence?” His taunt hits her right in chest and she blinks the moisture in her eyes away looking down at her fingers fumbling with the frays of the hem.

He’s cloaked with sadness and dejection from her misbehaviour.

He’s the most petty when she’s the reason of his agony.

“I hate how much I care about, you.” He spats. Knuckles turning white from his grip around the marble counter and Y/N listens —— because good, she should now she’s out of her own bubble.

“How much I’ve told y'that no-one ‘n damn nothin’ could come between us —-" His tone dripping with malevolence and bitterness it tears Y/N up.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Harry!!” She almost shouts. Shaky fingers contemplating to rip at her hair and her tears now shines at her cheeks, Harry elicits a flak taunting chuckle.

“See you’ve never trusted our love. Can y'fo’ once get outta y’head?” His own eyes glossy and his cheeks flushing rosy from the impact.

“You don’t want to bear what comes with lovin' me, don’t want me to cover up tha’ fo' you and you couldn’t spend a single day without doubting us,” He licks the salt away from his lips and his heart pauses a slow beat when Y/N's lips wobbles -- incoherent blabbers slipping past her swollen lips.

“What d'ya want then!?” The loud snap of his abrasive voice hitches her breath and she sobs out sorrowfully, “I just want you.” He sighs in defeat. Not really pondering over the severity and nuance of his words before speaking.

“Falling in love with you was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life.” That was the last blow for Y/N. She gasps out a cry. Pupils bursting wide and her insides falls sick as the itching goosebumps pin-prickles at her skin.

Everything gets struck for a moment. Harry’s expression matches her as he realizes what damage he has caused and to confirm it a blaring thunder roars through the sky.

Y/N gulps the achy feeling in her throat and just nods silently retreating back through the steps that led her to him and he’s rushing behind her in fret only to get the door to be slammed on his face.

He curses himself. Hitting his forehead into the door frame, that was the lowest and most cheapest fucking insult you could’ve managed to throw her way you dick.

“Y/N. I’m —-...fuck.” He knows that a sorry will be too humiliating for the hurt he has caused her.

While, Y/N sits on the floor at the most corner of the room with her knees bunched up to her chest. His hurtful words rings in her skull and she stuffs her face into her elbow sobbing into it watching the bear Harry won for her in a carnival with doleful blurry vision.

Through his whole life the only decision he regrets is loving me – out of every stupid thing he thinks our love is the most stupidest, what if it's the end? How I'll live without him? It’s impossible.

Forgetting hurts the more than grieving and she’d never be able to do that.

Her toes numbs to tingles and she feels herself drowning somewhere into pitch darkness, her heart lurching ruefully at each knock Harry taps on the door and her stomach burns with acidy sting lungs knotting tight making her gasp for oxygen.

Her panic attack crawling up her body in beasty blood curling gashes and she attempts to shout a plead for Harry but white dots appears at the back of her eyelids tripping her into mountain of floor pillows.

It knocks the vase out and it shatters beside her head, “Y/N! Baby!” Harry pounds at the door and when doesn’t hear a response from her side he’s kicking it open harshly.

The lock unhinges as he rushes inside worrisome and his world shatters when he sees his lovie struggling for a breather, her petite body trembling and shaking with each gasp that bolts her throat more and she nearly begs for him to do something.

He’s falling beside her on the floor and embracing her pliant figure in his gentle hold, “’S okay. ‘S okay.” He croaks out wiping his own tears with the sleeve of his hoodie.

He rubs her tummy in soothing circles then trails his clammy palm up her chest and maintains an eye contact with her panicked ones. Her breath shudders when she tries to calm it back and her nails digs into his skin in doing so.

“Doing s'good f'me darling, yeah —-..yeah.” He bobs his head vigorously and assuring-ly stroking his thumb against her soaky cheek tenderly in pacifying motions.

Her breath lulls slowly back into a pattern and she jerks a little while inhaling a nourishing puff, “Take a breath honey, yes princess just like that.” He whispers speckling a tiny kiss to her forehead.

He pushes her up with a firm hand on her hip and into his lap murmuring sweet dottings into her ear, “Squeeze me hand if you could hear me baby.” He just wants to be reassured she’s doing okay –- his face crooked against her pulse point into her throat and she does so giving a weak squish to his fingers.

“Jeez.” He bumps her chin up with his head and touches their temples together – eskimo kissing her nose and her eyelids flutter when he pecks her mouth ever so lightly.

His insides are shaking anxiously from fright and he again hugs her warmly to feel her.

“’M sorry. So sorry lovie' didn’t –-.. didn’t mean to hurt ya, swear moppet was just upset tha’ y’were being so far from me. I love you so much precious ....." He presses his wet lips to the side of her head and buries his nose in her hair -- arms tightening around her waist.

".... and I don’t think lovin' you is stupid. Thinks tha’ ‘s the only best thing I’ve ever done in me life ... could never love anyone like that.” He mumbles cradling her sweaty face into his palms and patches soft kisses all over her face.

She hiccups a whimper. Nose quivering and lip wobbling — letting him kiss her pout and fists the flimsy fabric of his hoodie in her teensy hands compared to him, “’M sorry too. Sorry f'acting childish and not talking to you about it. I’m just scared I’m getting too obsessed with the idea of us and it’ll ruin us pathetically.”

“Wait. Wait woah baby ...” He grabs her gently with shoulders and pulls her back from him, “’S tha’ why you were trying to live off all by yourself?” He asks politely a bit glum she was enduring all of that herself.

When she tries to hide her face out of timidness he hooks his thumb under her chin and highers it up, “Y/N.”

“Thinks you love me so intensely?” She sniffs nodding in agreement and he smiles sweetly.

“Then fuckin' do it silly. Why d'ya think I wouldn’t want that lovlin? I want to be so loved by my sweet baby.” He almost falls back when she slings her arms around the nape of his neck and brings him down for a cuddle.

“I love you so much my Angel.” He murmurs with his face squished into her neck and fills his lungs with her warm vanillay scent.

She rubs her cheek up and down his chest like an affectionate starved puppy then stops where his heart lays under the trap of bones and kisses it three times.

Her love language. When she isn’t able to utter something she’s always appreciating him with loving actions and at the moment she did the same to exchange the sentiment.

Three kisses to heart means, “I love you so much it aches me.” He immediately catches it and pecks her nose.

"I know bub, I know."

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Kaz Brekker x fem! Reader - If You Dare

A/n: I should hopefully have some more stuff out soon so... yay! And this request was great, I had so much fun writing this!

Warnings: Possessive/jealous Kaz, language, mentions of murder, I think that's it? You have been warned!

Request: I'd love to request a Kaz Brekker x reader! Maybe one where Kaz and the reader like each other, but haven't said anything yet. One day, Y/N’s brother visits the crow club, (nobody knew she had a brother) and her brother kisses her on the cheek and greets her and everything. Just some jealous/possessive Kaz not knowing the context of the cheek kiss, maybe some fluff too where Y/N and Kaz admit their feelings in the end :)) Tysm for reading❤️❤️

I do not own Six of Crows or the grishaverse!

Everyone knew that Y/n was Brekker's girl.

It was funny because any possible 'suitors' for Y/n magically disappeared but no one said anything. Of course, they didn't, if they wanted to keep their lives then they wouldn't dare.

That was fine, everyone just kept to themselves and prayed to the saints that they weren't a possible threat to Dirtyhands. What frustrated the Crows is that neither Y/n nor Kaz would admit their feelings towards each other.

The Crows (for once) were all down in the crow club not planing one of their evil heists that usually mess up the world, today they were just relaxing.

Well, maybe not Kaz. Kaz never really fully relaxed, at least not with so many people around.

He saw Y/n laugh with Inej and Nina and he couldn't help the way his eyes travelled down her body or the way that he wanted to keep hearing that laugh on repeat for the rest of his life.

He also couldn't help the fact that he wanted to be the one to make her laugh like that.

Kaz sighed internally, even he knew, the bastard of the fucking barrel is head over heels for Y/n L/n. The girl who would make him dance in the rain with her, the girl who he would gladly kiss if it wasn't for his touch aversion.

She perched her head up a bit and scanned the crowd seemingly looking for something.

Or someone.

Kaz felt something boiling bubble up in his gut but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Why would Y/n be looking for someone? It better not be for a date...

Okay, maybe he did know what he was feeling at the moment because he felt it almost every day when another person was around Y/n that wasn't him.

And fuck, he knew it was because he was no good. She deserved so much more than someone who couldn't even brush his hand up against someone without getting near to a panic attack. But he couldn't, he really couldn't get out of the mood he was in now till the situation was over. Trust him he tried.

A man who was fairly good-looking comes up behind Y/n and tackle's her into a hug. He nearly goes up to stand but she starts laughing and embracing the boy like they haven't seen each other in years.

He grips onto his cane harder than he ever has in his life. Don't make a scene, don't make a scene. Please, don't make a scene.

Y/n giggles and kiss's the boy on his cheek and all his self will goes out and dies in the harbour.

He shoots up out of his seat and walks faster to Y/n and the terrible man than he should with his bad leg and slams his cane in between the two. He glares his worst glare basically seeing red when he looks at the man and all of him wants to bash his head in as an example to everyone. His mind doesn't even think it's a bad plan but he knows Y/n would not like whoever this was to die like that so he would have to somehow come up with another plan.

"If you dare look at her again you won't ever see again," Kaz says lowly and icily calm contrasting to what he's really feeling inside. Red hot rage burst's inside him becoming an ugly green that grows and infects him.

"Kaz!" Y/n semi-yells trying not to make a scene, but he was sure eyes were already on him. He was Dirtyhands after all.

He turns to her sharply knowing his expression isn't one that even a spider would want to see but it sits on his face all the same.

"What." He growls out trying so hard to not snap at the angel before him.

Without thinking his gloved hand goes to lightly touch her neck and he doesn't feel nausea and sickness. He only feels the warmth of the girl that he loves even with the gloves on. Fuck he loves her, and he had to admit it to himself right now?

She visibly shivers at his touch like she enjoyed it but her face quickly turns back to the angry one that she was wearing before.

"He's my brother!"

Now that he thinks about it he did look similar to Y/n, and the context of everything looked more sibling-like more than anything. How the hell did he not see it? He groaned on the inside, he was never doing anything without thinking it through first again. He guessed that plan was shit though because he could barely think around Y/n.

Speaking of Y/n...

The young woman growl and he feels his eyebrows raise. Oh shit. She balls her hands into fits and stomps off. He tries not to run after her but because of his leg, he can't go nearly as fast as she can and he quickly falls behind.

"Y/n!"

He gets to her room and she slams the door in his face.

Great.

He picks the lock of the door for a few minutes as he curses himself for letting her use one of the harder locks to get into. But after just under a minute he hears the familiar click and he slides open the door.

Luckily the girl is in her room and he's happy that she didn't run off right away. Though her arms are crossed around her chest and even someone standing two buildings away could tell this girl was pissed beyond hell.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" She says lowly trying not to yell at him.

He wasn't thinking, all he could see were his arms around her and her lips on his cheek. Kaz was surprised he managed a sentence when he decided to make a 'scene.'

"I haven't seen him in years! Kaz, years! All I wanted was a happy reunion but you had to screw that up too!" She throws her hands in the air in exasperation.

Kaz knew that she wasn't planning on staying in Ketterdam at first and he didn't even know why she did stay, but his friends (or the closest people he could call friends) told him it was because of him. Brushing off that topic before was easy, but now look where it got them.

"I wasn't thinking." He finally finds the right words and breaks the silence that was washing over them both.

Don't screw this up Brekker.

"I didn't think he was your brother."

"So what? I was just another investment you had to protect because you thought I was stupid." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. He swallowed trying to find the right words. But he couldn't, there were just no words how he could describe how he feels for her.

So show her dumbass.

Slowly taking off his gloves he place's a hand on her cheek. It's feather-light and barely there, but he doesn't feel the cold or the waves and he doesn't feel like he's drowning. Her skin feels warm and it makes him feel alive, he hasn't felt like that in what seems like forever.

"Oh." Is the only thing that comes out of her mouth and she smiles a bit?

He rolls his eyes at her and takes his hand away. "Ya, oh." He rasps.

Y/n reaches out and carefully takes his left hand in hers and slowly but surely they intertwine their hands together.

Her smile slowly fades away as she looks at their hands.

"What are we?" The question hangs in the air creating more space in between them than ever before. Kaz close's his eyes for a second and lets that hungry feeling wash over him. The feeling of jealousy and the feeling of possessiveness when he thought she was with another man.

But then he lets the little moments warp him in their warm embrace. The moments when she offhandedly mentioned that what her favourite flower was, so then those flowers would just appear in her room. Or when she saved him and he couldn't think of any moment where she looked more beautiful, more saint-like, more like herself than ever. He sucks in those moments never letting them go.

"You are mine." His other hand goes to her neck again. "And I am yours." He lets his eyes rake her body committing every single little detail to memory and he sees her blush faintly a bit as he drinks her in.

They stand there in silence just enjoying each other's presence till Y/n looks up at him an oh shit look in her eyes.

"How the hell are we going to explain this to my brother!?"

Words 1480

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung

[saabbi]

Regret part 7

Warmth in the freezing snow

Genshin Impact Adeptus!reader au

warnings: light angst?, mentions of drugging and syringes, probably messy, crappy quality

words: ~2.8k

Notes: series is resuming after the hiatus. I had a hard time writing this chapter (because I suck at writing) so I really hope this chapter didn't turn out to be too messy and confusing. ao3 series link

[previous] [next]

Stepping out the ship, you’re immediately greeted by the harsh and nostalgic icy cold breeze. Pure white snowflakes that dance around your vision and the pile of soft snow beneath your feet tells you that you’re back in Snezhnaya.

You asked a subordinate to help you deliver the lantern you had bought for Teucer and obediently followed another Fatui member, who guided you to the chamber where the Tsarista is patiently waiting for your arrival.

“Your highness, I have returned.” You kneeled down on one knee, head lowering to pay your respects. The Tsarista’s ice cold gaze pierces you, making you anxious on why she summoned you.

“My loyal subject.” a voice so calm and quiet, barely to be heard, yet crystal clear and reverberates around the shallow and empty hall, sending a chill down your spine. You look up upon her call, acknowledging that she remains ever so strikingly breath-taking, as resplendent as the most exquisite flower, as elegant as Snezhnaya’s never-melting snow.

“Dottore has found a way to further enhance the capabilities of Fatui, and your aid is needed to achieve it.” She walks closer to you with each step, stopping just before your kneeled figure.

“To achieve it, your aid is necessary. I trust that you will provide all the help Dottore needs dutifully, yes?” A simple question, but her tone indicates that she does not accept rejection as an answer.

“Yes, of course.” The Tsarista seems delighted at your answer, resting her chilly hand on your cheeks and lightly caressing it with her thumb. The subtle intimate gesture however, was nothing resembling that of affection. The Tsarista’s sharp gaze remains fixated on you, yet it doesn’t feel like she’s properly looking at you at all. Her gaze has always been like that, as if she’s looking for something deeper in your soul, but not your existence.

“Dottore, come in. The final mission of our primeval harbinger shall now be performed.” The coldness on your cheeks is replaced by the sudden gushes of wind, the words leaving the Tsarista’s mouth leaving you off guard as you abruptly shot your head up.

“...Your highness? What does that-” Cut off by a harsh slam of the door, you turn to the entrance only to reveal a masked man with curly blue locks- Dottore. The condescending smirk spreading on his face as he meets your wary eyes sets off alarms in your head, screaming that this man is up to no good.

Your hand immediately reaches towards the hilt of your sword resting on your hips, ready to draw it out if he makes any suspicious movements. Furrowing your eyebrows and eyeing Dottore’s every move, unsure of what he would do.

“Relax, relax. This is all under the Tsarista’s orders, doesn’t do too much harm...I guess?” Dottore, now casually twirling a syringe filled with a dangerous-looking fluid, puts his hands up in the air in a placating manner, but his halfhearted response only makes you glare at him cautiously.

“I will have to question you on what you’re about to do, Dottore.” It’s all under the Tsarista’s orders, and you thought it would just be something about training new Fatui recruits, but Dottore’s behaviour insinuates that there is much more than that, and seems like the syringe is to be used on you.

“Oh this? Haha! I’m not quite sure, maybe knock you out for a bit? Y’know, draw out your adeptal powers to the maximum potential, I weaponise it, and voila! Fatui gets a new upgrade! Wonderful plan right?”

Dottore sure made it sound like no big deal, but you know that’s not all the catch. Because if it’s about your adeptal powers, then surely, the Tsarista’s intention is to-

“You’d better not do any stupid movements with your sword, yeah? It would be bad if you were to go against her highness’ orders, after all, you are her most loyal subordinate. Unless… you plan to commit treachery?” Dottore leered as your grip on the sword tightens, conflicted on what to do.

Reluctantly, you peered over to the Tsarista, who has not said a word at the impasse and tense situation between you and Dottore, silently watching everything unfold before her. The Tsarista’s glacial smile never fades as she meets your gaze, not giving you a definite response, but perhaps acknowledging Dottore’s words.

“That’s… not all there is to this, is it?” Despite your loyalty to the Tsarista, this question must be raised for your own sake. Adeptal energy has always been a rather sensitive subject to both you and the Tsarista, with you knowing that she has always wanted to utilise your mysterious powers to help her achieve her goals.

“Quite the sharp one huh? Well I suppose there’s no use beating around the bush, I’ll do you the favour in telling you this- Your adeptal energy is to be drained completely for us to use, ahahaha!” A fit of manical laughter jolted through him, his atrocious appearance matching his abhorrent personality.

“And that would leave me...vulnerable and powerless?” The appalling smirk that makes you want to throw up, the messed up plan that makes you want to run away from the Tsarista’s chambers.

“B i n g o! You neither have a vision nor delusion, so without those powers, you’re pretty much useless.” Dottore approaches you, barely stopping in front of you. Lowering his voice, he mumbled into your ears, “and you’ll be thrown away by the Tsarista, officially being useless to her. I’m sure you know by now, that all her highness cares about is that adeptal energy of yours, and not you yourself?” even at such a low volume, his mockery towards you can clearly be heard.

Of course you knew, that all the Tsarista’s interested in is your mysterious powers. It doesn’t take a detective to figure out her intentions in bringing you to her nation. Even after millennia of you serving her with your utmost loyalty, all she has taken interest in is your powers.

The cold Tsarista that requested you like an object from Morax as a trade of peace, and never paid you much attention. The Tsarista who only shows you some form of affection and addresses your name when she needs you to carry out her plans. To her, it was obvious that you are a mere chess piece, for her to attain her grand goals.

Despite knowing this, you still turned your head once more towards the Tsarista, locking gazes with her, searching for something that even you yourself wasn’t sure what you’re looking for in her eyes, but to no avail, the same empty eyes with no any sort of emotion returning your disappointment. That is how little you meant to her.

It has always been, a foolish hope of yours, to believe that one day, if you stay by her side long enough, you would become a figure that holds much more place in her heart. But that has never been the case, her icy heart never had space for you, locking you out. She has enough love for all the other harbingers, all except you.

The best course of action right now, is to draw out your blade and resist against the Tsarista. You have to defend yourself, you have to get out alive and well, because you promised Zhongli, Xiao, and Ganyu to return. You have to unsheathe your sword right this instant.

But your hands remain frozen, disobeying your commands and desperate internal cries. It should be simple, to protect yourself against those who could not care less about your existence and never acknowledging you, and flee to Liyue. So why can’t you bring yourself to do so?

Because it would mean that you’re defying the person whom your loyalty is dedicated to, denying the Tsarista’s ambitions.

The same Tsarista who ripped you apart from your family, but also the one who gave you a new identity, and a new place to call home, giving you a reason to live on by serving her.

And you who watched over her carefully throughout your lifetime; when she became obsessed with the idea of bringing down celestia, to the point where delusions are invented just for the sole purpose of resisting against the sacred land where gods are rumoured to reside.

You never found out the reason behind her obstinacy in bringing down celestia, but you stayed beside her long enough to witness her desire for power and authority to continue to expand into a bottomless abyss, and the times when she struggled.

Times when her immature plans backfired, times she felt livid and Snezhnaya would be in raging blizzards for weeks, times when she doubted her own decisions. You were always there, by her side and ready to jump into action whenever she needed you to.

Through trial and error, she learned to develop well thought-out plans after calculations and taking precautionary measures, and recruited talented individuals. The harder she falls, the higher she bounces. She was undeniably a dazzling existence to you.

The Tsarista is a blinding lone star that continues to glisten even if other stars have faded, showing its resistance towards the devouring night sky. Someone so cruel and brutal, yet ever so resplendent, that you couldn’t peel your eyes off her.

A star that defies the night sky.

And you, who only knew how to live under orders and pretty much lived a tedious life besides carrying out Fatui duties, are dull and have long succumbed to darkness.

So how could you deny her? The one who never faltered, the flames of ambition that refuses to die out no matter what? You couldn’t bring yourself to betray her even at this very moment, because you have watched over her for far too long.

“This turned out to be rather...disappointing.” Seeing you loosening your grip on the sword and putting down your defenses, Dottore scoffs.

You take a sharp inhale, making up your mind. Regretfully, your decision is to stay loyal to the Tsarista and faithfully do as she wishes up until the very end. A very foolish decision even you are aware of, and one that makes your heart scream in agony knowing that you’re once again being thrown away. Even so, this is the path you have chosen.

.

.

.

Drained, you felt. It felt as if your powers erupted all at once, and got sucked dry by a vacuum cleaner and left to die on the road. Your role as the twelfth harbinger has been dismissed, now just an identity-less wanderer. The Tsarista truly is a cruel person, you thought, to just throw you out and let you crawl away all by your own whilst surrounded by nothing but coldness and snow, knowing that you right now are incredibly weak and vulnerable. She didn’t even have someone to escort you to a shelter, simply took away your harbinger identification with the usual eerie smile.

But archons do you feel horrible, dizzy and nauseous, on the verge of passing out. Now that you’ve lost your place, where would you go? Tired, cold and nowhere to go, you lean on a nearby bark to grab a hold of yourself, trying figure out what to do from now on.

Slumping down and shutting your eyes, you are forced to face your own emotions that you have repressed in the Tsarista’s chambers. Your heart aches so much, the strong pulsations being the only thing resounding in your ears, it hurts more than how your body is right now.

What a pathetic destiny you face, to be thrown away whom you trusted and served twice in your lifetime. It hurts so much, your heart continuously screams to you, not forgiving the way you hurt it so severely. So pathetic, you are so pathetic, you thought.

Even after millennia, you still never found a place you truly belonged to, your miserable and pathetic self was not accepted anywhere. You know very well the Tsarista has always been using you, yet facing the harsh reality is not as easy as you thought.

Wouldn’t it be better if the abyss consumed you? To be embraced by darkness and vanish, not having to face pointless emotions and drama? If only your eyes never opened back from the first time you dirtied your own hands, and instead swallow by the cold and hungry arms of demise- if you only died back then, would you still have to face such circumstances?

“...Hey, comrade.” a light whisper of a familiar voice enters your ears, dragging you back from your thoughts. You looked up at the one who called for you, only to find your vision blurry and cheeks feeling wet and cold. You didn’t even realise droplets of tears had trickled down your cheeks, you are even surprised that you’re capable of crying, you hadn’t shed a tear, let alone cry out loud for so long that you had forgotten how it felt.

Childe crawls closer, slowly wrapping you into a warm hug and gently strokes you on the head like how he has treats his siblings. You feel embarrassed to be comforted by someone much younger than you and being treated like a child, but returned the hug nonetheless. Not knowing how much you needed a hug, you find his embrace to be pleasant and safe.

“There’s a ship heading to Liyue, so let’s get you home to where it’s warm and safe, yeah?” Home, Childe said, you wanted to retort, but somehow ‘home’ and ‘Liyue’ just sounded right. Is it okay if you return there? To seek asylum?

“Come on comrade, it’d be devastating if you missed the ride!” slumping your weak arms over his shoulders and a hand on your waist to support you, lifting you onto your feet to lead you to the harbour.

“I-I’m sorry for what happened, and that I...I couldn’t help you. If I had known what Dottore was scheming, I would have talked to the Tsarista and convince her not to adopt such a brutal method.” His cheery voice is replaced by one with remorse, avoiding your eyes.

“I didn’t know Dottore came up with such an outrageous method, the Tsarista didn’t inform us of her plan! I- I should’ve known Dottore was up to no good! I could’ve done something-” Getting agitated, his speech hastens and stumbles over his own words.

“Hey, hey. Calm down, you know it’s not your fault.” You cut him off, giving him a soft slap on the back. “The Tsarista had such plans a long time ago, she just...never found the right methods until today, I guess.”

Somehow, it only made Childe feel even worse, guilt and sympathy all shown on his face.

“Come on, where’s your usual jolly self? A gloomy expression doesn't suit you at all. Teucer and Tonia will be worried for their #1 toymaker of Snezhnaya.” you mustered a feeble smile, assuring him that you’re fine.

“Well, never thought I’d hear you crack a joke after all these years…” Childe’s lips curve into a relieved and playful smile. Although, you have to admit, it does makes you feel better knowing that he’s worried for you.

.

.

.

“This is the Crux, you might’ve seen their crew around Liyue before. I spoke with the captain, and it’s a huge relief that she accepted our request!” You and Childe stumbled into the guest room that is kindly lent to you, with Childe immediately helping you get on the bed and wrapping you in blankets.

“You had a not-so-pleasant eventful day, it’s best if you warm up and rest now. I can’t go back with you, but I’ve contacted Zhongli, he should be there to pick you up when you arrive.” with a soft tone, Childe picks up your hand and gently strokes your palms, taking a note of your pale complexion, you remind him of his siblings when they were sick. He turns to leave you alone, about to close the door.

“Hey, Childe?” He abruptly stops and turns back to you with a concerned look, worried if you’re still feeling unwell and perhaps he could help.

“Thank you.” but only two simple words came out of your mouth. So simple and short, but more than enough to convey the gratitude and respect you held for him.

Childe breaks into a beaming smile, “Of course! We’re friends after all, right comrade? I think I’m even your best friend!” to which you chuckled. Yeah, you suppose he isn’t wrong on that.

Just before he closes the door completely, he halts and opens his mouth, “Teucer adored your gift, he and Tonia wanted to prepare something in return… I’ll bring it to you next time, yeah? And perhaps drink tea too at Zhongli’s?”

“Yes, I shall look forward to dear Teucer and Tonia’s gift then, it’s a promise.” You feel your consciousness slip away, closing your eyes and replying to Childe with a light smile on your face.

“It’s a promise!” He enthusiastically replied, only to realise he should tone it down to let you sleep in peace. “Sweet dreams, comrade.” Just before passing out on your bed, you hear Childe’s almost inaudible reply and a click on the door shutting close.

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[writtentodeath]

okay first, I'm OBSESSED with your snippets. seriously, I read like most of them in the last three days. you're like, really talented.

second, here me out on this: villain finds out hero's address and decides to pay them a visit to threaten/intimidate/attack them, but they're dressed in their civilian clothes to avoid raising any suspicions. when they get there, they find out that it's hero's birthday and their home's crowded with their friends throwing them a surprise party. the friends assume villain is another friend of hero's, chaos ensues.

ur mind... wow

Villain hated parties. 

They hated large groups of people in general, actually, and especially large groups of people all eating fooding and talking very loudly to each other. 

In other words, this surprise party was basically their own brand of deluxe torture. 

Villain was here to threaten Hero, maybe get some information, maybe kidnap them, who knows. It would be a little harder to do that when Hero had twenty pairs of eyes on them at all times, and Villain was not prepared to take the whole house hostage.

They’d knocked on the door, expecting Hero to answer, not some random person who they’d never seen in their life. She definitely wasn’t Hero, that was for sure, but she could have been their older sister. 

“I thought everyone was here!” she said, but waved Villain in anyway. “Quickly, Hero will be here in a minute.”

Would that they had died before stepping in the door.

Now, ten minutes into a party they needed to escape, and Hero was walking up to them, drink in hand.

“Hi, I’m Hero,” they said, holding out their hand. “I don’t think we’ve met- who did you come with?” 

Oh shit. Villain should have been paying attention to names- but they didn’t exchange any, did they? They didn’t know any of the flannel-covered people… “I’m... Ethan’s... friend,” Villain said uncertainly, hoping to hell that there was an Ethan in the room. That Hero even knew an Ethan. “I’m Villain.”

Hero frowned, glancing around the room. Their expression settled after a moment, and they looked back at Villain with a smile. “It’s great to meet you!”

They moved away, and Villain breathed a sigh of relief. 

Once everyone was busy with their games, Villain decided to sneak upstairs. Maybe they could learn more about Hero. 

The third door they tried looked like Hero’s room- shamefully messy, with sickly green walls that probably hadn’t been painted in years. 

A hand clamped down on their shoulder, spinning them around and slamming them into the wall with a bang. Hero had a hand on Villain’s mouth, the other keeping them pinned to the wall with unnatural strength. 

The sounds from downstairs didn’t stop. 

“Who are you?” Hero demanded, voice low and angry. “Because you’re sure as hell not any friend of Ethan’s.”

So they did know an Ethan. 

Villain glanced down at the hand on their mouth pointedly, and Hero removed it. 

“So you do know an Ethan,” they said. “And you might want to be careful with that super strength or else I’ll figure out exactly who you are and go blabbing to everyone about it.”

Hero’s eyes went wide. “Villain,” they said. “How- how did you find me? Why are you here?” 

Villain rolled their eyes. “I didn’t mean to come on your birthday. Happy birthday, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Hero said without thinking. Then they frowned. “I’m going to turn you in.”

“You can’t. You try to drag me out of this house, and everyone downstairs will know exactly who you are.” Villain grinned. “You think I’m the only bad guy out there?”

Hero scowled, looking away from Villain. “You’re the one pinned to the wall,” Hero said, “I have the-” they caught themself, and Villain could see the grin forming. “The high ground, as it were.”

“Oh my god.” 

“Shut up. I have the upper hand! You should be scared.”

Villain scoffed. “Scared of you? Yeah, no. I have dignity. And,” they added, “I have your name. Which one of us is really in the worse?” 

Hero swallowed. Hard. They stepped back, releasing Villain, jaw clenching and unclenching. “What do you want? Why did you come here?”

They opened their mouth to respond- and stopped. They had come here to threaten Hero. 

“I want you to stop being a vigilante,” Villain said. “Or else I’ll tell everyone.”

“Absolutely not,” Hero said. “No. You can’t stop me.”

“I just told you that I’m threatening you! I’ll tell everyone about you!”

Someone called Hero’s name from downstairs, and they shouted, “Just a minute, start without me!”

They turned back to Villain. “Look. This is a really bad time, is there any way we could postpone this until tonight?”

Villain sighed. As much as they wanted to do what they came to do- threaten Hero, whatever the hell that meant- they also had the information they needed. “Usual place?” they said. “If you don’t show up, I’ll come here.”

Hero glared. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Or your school. During class. I’ll dress up as your mom.”

“So this is what it feels like to want to murder someone.”

“Go back to the party, I think they’re about to sing happy birthday,” Villain said. 

Hero groaned. “Kill me now.”

“Maybe later,” Villain replied, and pushed Hero towards the door lightly. “Have fun!” they said in a sing-song voice, and climbed out of Hero’s window.

That could have gone a lot better.

It also could have gone a lot worse. 

[mrsnegan]

I am here with another request. It’s where college student!reader desperately tries to seduce her college professor(Negan), and after a full semester of trying she quits. Until she bumps into Negan in the hallway and he asks her why she stopped or something and they have sex.

Please and thank you💛🌟

[I'm sorry this took so long to write, life got in the way and in the last few days I finally found the time to work on your request. Professor/student AU is one of my favorites, so I had lots of fun writing this for you. I hope you enjoy reading it! 💛]

Warnings: smut, swearing, rough blowjob, bodily fluids, unprotected sex

One full semester you had tried to get his attention. One full semester of hoping to make him notice you, want you. You sounded desperate, even in your own ears, you knew, but you couldn't help yourself. He was the wet dream of any student, tall, dark and handsome with a deep voice and dimples which made you swoon. And he was your professor, a fact which you often tried to ignore. Your attraction towards him was borderline obsessive by the point the semester reached its end. So the only thing saving your sanity was to stop this desperate shit show of a seduction. He wouldn't notice you anyway. Of course your clothes didn't define your worth but they helped to get attention from time to time, so you wore all the sexy outfits your wardrobe had to offer. What a bratty behavior, you thought to yourself, though it hadn't stopped you to wear those skirts and tops which made you feel absolutely irresistible in front of him. To your dismay, he didn't seem to notice, a fact which frustrated you greatly. So your skirts got longer again, your tops less revealing.

As the days went by, your lectures with Professor Negan turned out to be the same as always, and by the end of the last one for the semester, you even felt relieved to have a break from staring at this handsome devil for hours. Despite him not even looking at you once, you had a hard time looking at him without drenching your panties.

You decided to return your books to the library but Helen, a friend of yours, invited you for a coffee in your favorite place not far away from campus. By the time you both said goodbye after a super relaxing afternoon of talking and laughing, you remembered your books. Checking the opening hours of the library, you had half an hour left to get business done. So you walked back, returning the books just in time. What you didn't expect was to run into Professor Negan on your way out, nearly knocking his coffee out of his hand.

"Ugh, sorry, Professor", you said, cheeks turning red in embarrassment. You always made a fool of yourself in front of those people who you found attractive. And up close, he was even more attractive than behind his desk during lectures.

"It's alright, Y/N, no need to apologize." He winked at you with this million dollar smile of his, accentuating his dimples.

You gulped visibly, nodding absently while walking past him to exit the library. What you didn't expect was to hear his low voice behind your back.

"By the way, where did your sexy as fuck skirts go? Laundry day?"

You whipped around, flabbergasted.

"Excuse me?"

He took one step in your direction, smirking wildly.

"I wanted to know why you don't wear those nice skirts anymore. I loved watching your ass in those."

With your mouth slightly agape, you just stared at him. No way did he notice your attempts without you noticing it. Had you been this blind?

"I...I thought you..."

"You thought I wouldn't notice? Oh sweetheart, I'm just good at hiding it, couldn't risk someone seeing my boner whenever your lovely tits more or less dangled in front of my face."

There was no way for you not to turn bright red under his heated gaze.

"Are you...making fun of me?" you asked, insecure about this whole situation.

He laughed lightly, emptying his coffee and throwing it into the bin a few feet away effortlessly. Everything he did, how he moved and talked seemed effortless to you.

"I would never make fun of you, Y/N. Not my style. Especially not when you're reacting this cute even if you must have known how absolutely naughty your whole behavior has been."

You couldn't stop your arousal at his words, him flirting with you made your heart nearly jump out of your chest.

He took another step towards you, then another until he only was a breath away from you.

"You need it bad, don't you, sweetheart? Need to be fucked real good by someone who knows how to handle you."

The moan leaving your lips didn't surprise you at all. His voice alone did things to you, you couldn't believe this was happening for real.

"How often do you imagine me inside of you, huh?"

For the first time since running into Professor Negan, you looked into his eyes. You could swear the desire in them would swallow you whole.

"Too...too often to count", you answered truthfully.

Without any other word, Professor Negan grabbed your hand, dragging you with him towards the part of the library which was used by staff and university teachers only.

He unlocked a door to a room with bookshelves, some desks and chairs in it and locked it after the both of you were inside.

At first, you just stared at him with wide eyes, your thoughts running wildly in your head, then he took determined strides towards you, pushing you against the opposite wall with ease. The kiss that followed drove the air out of your lungs. He claimed your mouth forcefully, kissing, you senseless with his talented mouth. He tasted better than you could have imagined, so you met his ministrations with equal fervor, groping at his strong arms to find some leverage.

His tongue felt incredible inside of your mouth and you couldn't stop the thought of him kissing you down there.

His hands also wandered down your body, up again, touching as much of you as possible.

"You have no idea for how long I wanted to do this. Fuck, you drove me mad all those months."

You stared at him with bedroom eyes, his words sounded too good to be true in your head.

"I thought you didn't care, Professor", you whispered breathlessly, chest heaving.

"It's Negan for you and care I most certainly fucking do." He attacked your neck with kisses and licks, teeth lighty sinking into your skin. He was rewarded with your moan, his name leaving your lips, tasting the sound of it on your tongue.

"You know you've been a bad girl, don't you? Teasing me relentlessly and then stopping like you changed your fucking mind from one second to the other."

"Negan I...", you tried to explain, but he silenced you with his index finger against your lips.

"Non of that. I know you need to be fucked badly and I'm more than glad to fuck you senseless, sweetheart. But I need to punish you first. Your little outfits and all that eye-fucking could have gotten us into real trouble."

"Punish me? How? But this...this here could get us in trouble too."

Negan just smirked at you, attacking your lips once again before answering you.

"Maybe I will bend you over one of the desks and spank your gorgeous ass until you beg me to stop. Or I will choke you on my cock and make you thank me for it. And yeah, it could get us in a lot of trouble but I don't care anymore, though your little games out in public need to have consequences. So what will it be, sweetheart?"

You gulped down nervously, but aroused nonetheless. His heated gaze burned your skin in the most delicious way and as tempting as getting spanked by him sounded, you really wanted to be fed with his cock. At this point, him finally in front of you, you couldn't suppress your inner slut, so you dropped to your knees without further ado, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Fuck, dirty girl", he commented your choice, letting you open his belt, the fly and push his jeans down. You freed his glorious cock which was standing at attention the minute he ran into you. He was everything you ever dreamed of, thick and long, definitely intimidating at first sight, but you didn't care. You wanted to taste him, to please him. So you experimentally closed your hand around his base, jerking him slowly while you placed the first little kiss to his tip.

Negan hissed at your ministrations, looking down at you in awe as you worked him leisurely.

His left hand came crashing against the wall for support as you took him into your mouth. His right collected your locks into a lose ponytail, guiding your movements. After bobbing your head a few times, tasting and feeling him on your tongue, you swallowed more of him, earning a rich moan in return.

"Yeah, fuck, let me fuck your mouth", he said above you. You wouldn't want it any other way, your panties felt drenched at this point, so you happily obliged, grabbing his strong thighs for support.

He pushed his hips forward, pushing your head further down his cock in return. You gagged, of course you did, just as he said he would make you, so you tried to breath through your nose steadily, while his thrusts came quickier and more forceful. Your spit dribbled down your chin, tears rolling down your cheeks from the intrusion, but you loved every second of your punishment, of being used like this.

Negan pushed you down until your nose nearly hit his pubic hair and you sputtered around his length. The moan above you made you feel dizzy with desire and then finally, he let go of your hair, so you could pull back and suck in much needed air into your lungs.

"T-than-k y-ou", you stuttered out of breath, throat deliciously burning from his rough handling.

"There you fucking go, sweetheart, you took me so well, such a fantastically filthy mouth", he praised, helping you up on shaky legs. He kissed you once more, passionately and forceful, like he couldn't get enough of his taste on your tongue, then guided you to one of the desk, sitting you down, legs dangling off the edge.

Now it was him kneeling in front of you, opening up your legs to his hungry eyes.

"Shit, getting your mouth fucked should have been a punishment, instead your panties are fucking drenched. Dirty girl", he said smiling mischievously, rubbing you gently through the fabric of your panties.

Your hips bucked involuntarily against his hand, you wanted more, everything, all of him.

He stripped you off your panties, pushing your skirt up some more so he could spread your legs wider.

Without any other comment, his face buried itself between your thighs, surprising you with a broad link from your hole to your clit. You gasped, hands gripping the edge of the desk.

"Such a delicious pussy, ready to be fucked."

His dirty talk drove you mad and as his mouth closed over your clit, sucking you into his mouth, you completely lost it. Your moans turned louder by the second while he pleasured you in the best way possible, driving you towards new heights. His tongue was joined by his finger, pushing itself into your quivering pussy.

"Shit, Negan", you groaned, looking down at him.

Your praise spurred him on, fucking into you with his finger, lapping at your clit. He pulled his finger out of you to quickly return with two of them, fingerfucking you faster and faster. Your body shook above him, too much pleasure to handle. You came with a scream while he sucked at your clit mercilessly and reached spots inside of you which you didn't know existed.

When he re-emerged from between your thighs, his grin seemed to be even bigger.

"You have no idea for how long I wanted to taste your pussy. Always imagined something this beautiful must be hidden under your short skirts."

"And you have no idea how many times I dreamed about you eating me out", you responded, still high from your orgasm.

"Luckily for the both of us we can finally fuck each other's brains out."

"You've got a condom?" you asked him breathlessly after another heated kiss.

"No, sorry sweetheart. But I'm clean, I promise you that. Are you on the pill?"

You nod your head yes, then pull him against your shivering body.

"Fuck me raw", you whisper in his ear, his moan traveling through your whole body like lightning.

You didn't have to tell him twice as he lined himself up with your center and sank down into your heat with one smooth thrust.

He swallowed both of your moans with a bruising kiss, setting a steady pace. He stretched you so good, it felt amazing, better than you could have ever dreamed of.

"Fuck, you feel devine, Y/N. Such a good girl for me."

You moaned at his praise, relishing in the way he fucked into you. Your hands found their way around his neck while his wandered from your hips to your breasts, groping you through your blouse.

"The next time we fuck I'm gonna worship those perfect tits of yours and will take my fucking time with your body", he whispered into your ear.

"The next time?"

"Oh fuck...sweetheart, you think I would let you go after all these months of torture...and feeling how absolutely perfect you fit around my cock now? No fucking chance..."

He picked up the pace, pounding into you mercilessly. His lips against your neck and his fingers all over you drove you to your breaking point. His thumb came down on your clit and you were done for. You moaned his name over and over again while he kept thrusting into you, fucking you through your second orgasm.

"Fuck, gonna cum...", he warned you just moments after your waves of pleasure ebbed away. He pulled out, stroking himself against your thighs and came with a loud groan, painting your inner thighs with his seed.

You felt alive, sated, dirty and glorious at the same time, pressing him against you to kiss him passionately.

After long moments of nipping on each other's skin, he retreated from you, pulling his jeans up, fastening them again. With a smirk, he leaned down to collect your panties. You looked at him with an arched brow while your lips curled into a small smile.

"Don't worry sweetheart, I will buy you a new pair if you want. I just fucking love the idea of you returning home with my seed between your precious thighs and no fucking underwear. I bet you will touch yourself to the thought of what we just did. And that fantasy alone makes me wanna fuck you all over again until you can't walk straight."

---

Taglist: @iluvneganandjamie @happysgal @negans-attagirl @you-a-southpaw-doll

[babiesdreams]

Can you do something with yuta and virgin inexperienced reader who is a couple years younger than him? With lots of details please 😏Thank you 😘

My first and last +18 Nakamoto Yuta

Warnings: It’s looong, but it’s gold. Virgin reader, oral (r and g)

The hotel room felt so cold suddenly. It wasn’t what you expected at all. You were determined to finally lose your virginity, and this tinder guy seemed nice and all. But why wasn’t he talking? Why was he so silent? His eyes were studying your body like it was the most interesting piece of art in a museum.

There’s a slight shine inside his eyes that makes your brain wander around, thinking on the situation maybe more than needed. But his gaze is just so... It’s like he saw you after a long time waiting. Like he just reencountered with the love of his life.

You light up a cigarette, trying to light up the mood a little bit. Your fingers travel all the way to your lips, placing the lighten cigarette on your red lips. You feel the smoke entering your lungs through your throat. Slowly filling you in with a relaxing sensation, calming your thoughts a little. Your feet walk towards the bedroom’s window. 

You let the air out through your nose and mouth, slowly intoxicating the fresh air in front of your face. Your back is all Yuta can see now, making him anxious as to what your expression was at the moment. “I never imagined you would be so shy in person” You say before taking the cigarette back to your lips. Footsteps can be heard coming your way.

The feel of Yuta’s fingers around your cigarette makes you turn around, watching how his long fingers throw the cigarette out the window. “You’re too young to smoke” He whispers, before sitting down on the bed, again contemplating your body, studying every inch of it. 

“Stop doing that” You say looking down, unable to keep the eye contact. He chuckles at your reaction. “You know” He starts saying with a serious tone, letting his body fall onto the soft mattress. “I’m not shy. I just... I can’t believe how beautiful you look in person” 

You chuckle ironically. “Do you say that to every girl?” He sits back up. “There will be no other girl” His serious and low tone gets you even more nervous than before. “W-what do you mean?” You ask him, as serious as you possibly can, though keeping your thoughts in place becomes such a difficult task suddenly. 

“I mean” His figure stands up, in front of you, not allowing your eyes to look away from his facial features, that reflect the light through the tiny drops of sweat visible in his forehead as he walks towards you. His fingertips caress your cheek softly, driving you to places you’ve never been before. “After today, I’m not letting you go” He whispers placing a kiss on your forehead.

His words make you feel uneasy, not really knowing if it’s cute or words a psycho would say. But you somehow feel like he’s right. Like his words hold such a true and deep feeling. His fingertips brush your body, following the lines of your curves.

You panic for a second, at the sudden move that takes you out of guard. Your hands push him away fastly, making his soft expression turn into a confused one. He looks down for a second, questioning his actions and trying to calm down to make the situation less awkward. 

“It’s fine if you’re not ready” He says slowly, trying to comfort you. His body lays down in the bed again, his weight makes the bedsheets shake, as his figure gets marked onto the soft fabric. His hair bounces as he falls against the mattress. The view is pretty enough to be called a masterpiece.

“I’m ready” You say angrily, while your hands start pulling your clothes off. The boy sighs, turning around so that his body is supported on his forearms. His head turns to look in your direction, analyzing your rushed movements. “Do you know the 20 minutes rule?” He asks, lettng himself fall back down.

You shake your head, and even if he’s unable to see you, he understands your answer. “You need to wait twenty minutes from the moment you get an idea ‘till the moment you do it, to make sure you’re completely fine with it. So... give yourself twenty minutes from now” His voice sounds so calmed and relaxed, that those feelings get to you as well, letting your anxious self disappear.

“I have already thought about this, all these days, all my life. I’m just so tired of being the only virgin friend. I’m not a baby you know? I know how to make decisions” You scream angrily before getting on top of his lying body, placing your knees on both sides of his waist. 

His hands grab your arms, while his body turns, placing its weight against your body and switching positions with you. “Are you sure?” He asks teasingly and you nod, still convinced about it, but when his tongue licks your neck, your cheeks blush like crazy, leaving you with a weird sensation inside. 

He gets off of you chuckling. “Let’s do something else” He says calmly. You follow his steps with your eyes, wondering just what he was thinking about. He gets some poker cards out of his jeans’ pocket. 

“So I’ll take a card and you take another one, we both put it on the bed at the same time and the highest wins. The winner asks the loser whether they prefer truth or dare” He explains mixing the cards and spreading him on the bed. You look at him with a judging look. “So it’s just truth or dare” You say teasingly. 

He rolls his eyes back into his head and stays with that expression for a while, hinting you on how done he was. “Okay, okay, let’s play” You say, making his expression come back to normal. You pick up a card and he repeats right after, sitting down next to your lying body.

You both show your cards, revealing how Yuta’s card was higher than yours. “Truth or dare?” He quickly asks. You hum for a while, thinking hard about what you should answer. “Dare” You say unsure and he giggles. His hands grab your top, that was lying on the groud. 

“Put this on” He says without looking. Your expression gets angrier at his words. “You’re supposed to undress me” You protest but he doesn’t listen to your words “We had an agreement. Only five minutes have passed, so put on your clothes, you’re gonna get cold” His voice sounds so good that you cannot protest his explanation.

You get your clothes back on and pick another card you both flip them up and again, they reveal Yuta’s win. “Truth or dare?” He asks again. “Truth” You say furrowing your brows.

“Why are you so obsessed with losing your virginity?” His question makes yourhead hurts “Dare” You try to change it, but the boy seems to be prepared for your attack. “I dare you to tell me why you are so obs-” 

“Okay, fine I’ll tell you” You stop him from repeating every word. “Look, people just put a lot of pressure with this stuff okay? If you are my age, and you are still a virgin, everyone makes fun of you” You explain slowly.

“So it’s because of social pressure?” He asks. “No, I also want to lose it” You reply angrily. “Do you?” His eyes get fixed in yours, reading you like an open book as your mouth opens up again, to keep speaking.

“Yes, Okay? Stop treating me like a child. You’re just five years older than me” You say slightly pissed off at his parental like words. “I just wanna make sure you want it. That’s not something you say to a child, is quite mature actually” He replies, also angrily before he picks up another card.

You repeat the whole card thing, and this time your card is higher than this. “Truth or dare?” You ask him. “Dare” He spits out fastly. A smirk appears in your face.

“Kiss me” You say like it’s something so hard to do. He rolls his eyes again, for a second and gets closer to your lips. His soft and plump lips caress yours softly. His hand holds your cheek while his tongue enters inside your mouth, playing along with yours.

The kiss stops your mind from thinking, leaving it empty. A couple of minutes pass, and your lips are still connected, moving in different ways, letting the other in. There’s this slow motion that drives you crazy somehow. 

His lips slowly get away from yours. His lids open following the same slow pace, just like yours. His hand is still on your cheek, though his other hand ppicks up another card. You pick up one as well. Not looking away from his eyes for a single second. 

His eyes though look at the cards, seeing how you won. “I won” He lies. “Truth or dare?” You smile lightly. “Dare” He copies your expression, smiling widely at the thought. “Continue the kiss” He says without moving an inch. This time you’re the one who gets closer to him.

Your arms get around his neck, helping you get closer to him. This time the kiss starts off more heated, involving his hands into some actions around your body, like slight caresses your hair, playing with it a little, and then going down your neck, marking its path with his fingertips.

You feel goosebumps all along, which mix with a weird sensation growing on your stomach. His fingertips get to your belly, getting your shirt up slightly and caressing the bare sking underneath it. His body falls over yours, trapping you in between his figure and the mattress. 

His hand moves get faster as you notice his bulge growing inside his pants. A loud sound stops both of you, making you turn towards his phone, ringing. He sets the alarm off and returns to the bed, standing right at the bottom of it. “Twenty minutes passed. What do you think?” He ask and you simply raise your arms, hugging the air while saying “Come here”

He obeys, getting closer on top of your body again. His lips press against your neck, sucking on it softly. You can feel how hickeys are being formed over your sensitive skin. His hands start rubbing your clothed clit, making you feel the friction as if the fabric wasn’t there.

You try to control you whimpers and moans as much as you can, but it’s impossible due to the given situation. Yuta smirks at your sounds though. Focusing on his movements around your clit. He gets your pants and your panties off slowly, making you blush at the sudden exposure.

You cover your face with your hands, wanting to hide your embarassment away. But his hands get yours out of the way. “I wanna see how those cheeks get redder” He says teasingly, You give him a deadly glare but you cannot hold it for long as his fingers enter into you, making you moan loudly. 

“God you’re so wet baby. Did my kiss do this to you?” his teasy tone makes you mad as hell, but you’re not able to since he curls his fingertips, brushing parts of your walls that you didn’t know felt so good. “Or is it just because it’s your first time?” He chuckles at your angry expression. “You look cute like that” he says with a smile.

The action itself is cute but what follows, is not even near the term. His tongue licks out your dripping folds all the way up to your clit, where he stays for a while, sucking on it, moving his tongue around it and even slightly biting, without making it painful.

You are a moaning mess just by that. You always pictured in your mind how receiving oral sex  would feel like, but you never pictured it like that. It feels somehow soft, but at the same time better than just a simple touch. 

His tongue gets off of your skin, making you miss the feeling of it. And when his fingers get out of you, you just feel empty, as if something you needed was taken away from you.

Yuta gets his pants and boxers off, before getting closer to your face again. “You’re delicious, You knew that?” You giggle at his words in disbelief. And his comment distracts your attention from his hand, as they roll a condom along his length.

His tips hits your entrance, stopping your giggling inmediately. “Now, breathe slowly, this might hurt” He says softly and you do as instructed. His length slowly gets into you, stretching your walls painfully slow.

You can feel every inch of his dick through the sloopy texture of the condom. You let out some whimpers due to the pain. “ I’m gonna take it slow okay?” He says and you nod. His length never stops moving, though it moves sooo slowly that it almost doesn’t hurt. 

You can see how he’s suffering from it tho. His expression hints pain and his dick twitches inside of you, as he’s really is needy at this point. “It’s fine, Yuta, go faster” You manage to say, fooling the guy.

At first it just hurts so much that you can’t even feel anything else, but then pleasure starts getting over pain. Loud moans start leaving your lips soonly after. “God I missed this” He whispers under his breath. You would have asked if you weren’t completely driven away by the different sensations.

You feel an overwhelming sensation brushing ove your whole body and just listen to his voice as he says “Let it go”, and like that you obey, cumming right away. Your whole body shakes behind his.

He gets his length out of you, not wanting to overwork you in any way. After you calm down you let your hands grab his dick, moving among it slowly and firmly. He makes little sounds under his breath and when your lips get into action, they turn into growls.

It doesn’t get long before he cums inside your mouth, leaving a weird and unknown taste on your mouth. “I fucking loved that” He says getting you up to kiss you deeply. 

“I’m not gonna let you go” He says in between soft kisses. 

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

If you didn’t fall for Yuta after this... Girlll

Masterlist –requests open– How to request?  Check out your score.

[miracleonice87]

anything with matty tkachuk! but maybe a fluffy one where it’s your first season living together after being long distance for awhile and it’s like the moments you guys go through? first fight, first night together, new game day rituals, etc.

a/n: the last of the requests for the moment! I’ll probably open them back up soon. here’s a piece with a few vignettes referred to in the request. enjoy! 

warnings: partners arguing, brief mention of sex

_____

Firsts

first night…

“You’re going to throw your back out.”

Matthew scoffed. “You think you’re so heavy but you weigh next to nothing,” he insisted, scooping his arm beneath the crooks of your knees, the other steady beneath your underarms as he lifted you off the ground.

You chuckled, covering your face with your hand shyly.

“Matthew,” you whined. He shook his head.

“Nope, we’re doing it,” he told you, walking toward the front door. “You’re finally moving in with me. We’re doing the cheesy ‘carry you over the threshold’ thing.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Smiling, you looped your arms around his neck and resigned to his resolve. A few yards more, and Matthew was kicking open the door with one foot.

As he stepped into the house, he let out an adorable “ta daaa!” and beamed at you.

“Welcome home, princess,” he said sweetly. You leaned in to kiss him and pinched gently at his cheek.

“Thank you, my love,” you said. Matthew put you down carefully and closed the door behind him. As you stepped forward into the living room — your living room — you spotted not only a gorgeous bouquet of blush pink roses, but also an overflowing gift basket filled with an array of your favorite items. The jasmine candles you always burned in your own apartment, the lavender tea you drank each night before bed, your favorite shampoo and conditioner, the shower gel you always stocked up on at your favorite St. Louis boutique — all of it, and more, was tucked inside.

“Baby…” you began breathlessly, running your hand along the perimeter of the wicker. “What did you do?”

Matthew approached from behind with a smile, wrapping his arms around your middle and burying a kiss in your hair.

“I just wanted you to have some things that’ll hopefully make you feel at home here,” he said somberly. “And I gotta admit, Taryn helped me track down the stuff from St. Louis,” he added with a chuckle.

You turned in his hold to face him, and he noted the glistening in your green eyes as he reached for your face.

“You are so sweet. Thank you, baby,” you said, pressing your lips against his. When you parted, Matthew noticed the way your bright smile had faded. He knew why.

As thrilled as you were to be moving in with Matthew at last after a full year of dating long distance, you were still anxious leaving your hometown of St. Louis. You couldn’t wait to start your life in Calgary with Matthew, but living so far from your family and childhood friends had you battling homesickness from the second you took off from Lambert. The reality had caused you to break down on the plane and was bringing tears to your eyes once more.

“You okay?” Matthew asked kindly, kissing your forehead repeatedly. You held his wrists and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you said.

“I know it’s not gonna be easy, sweetheart,” Matthew said, pulling you closer. “But your parents are welcome here anytime, and you can go visit them literally whenever you want. And you know my parents are gonna be up here way more now that you’re here. We all know they like you better than me,” he told you, pulling a giggle from you as you looked up at him with a smirk.

“There’s a smile,” he said. You nodded, sniffling.

“Trust me, Matthew, I’m so happy to be here with you,” you assured him. “This is where I’ve wanted to be for so long, and you’re so gracious for having me here. And I can’t believe how thoughtful these gifts were. The excitement I feel to start my life with you outweighs any sadness I’ll feel. Trust me on that.”

Matthew grinned, and you couldn’t help but reflect his joy in your own expression.

“I love you, princess,” he said, hugging you tight. “Welcome home.”

“I love you, too, Matthew,” you said against his shoulder.

_____

first fight…

It had taken a few weeks, but you soon settled into your new life in Calgary with little trouble. Spending every day with Matthew felt like a dream — you were both giddy when you hopped into bed together each night and woke up next to each other the following morning.

As Matthew began training camp, you found your own routine with your work as a freelance graphic designer. You only put in about twenty to thirty hours per week, which Matthew knew you did because you wanted to, not because you felt you needed to. He reminded you every so often that you could quit at any point if you no longer felt the need to work — though you told him not to hold his breath.

Matthew refused to let go of his housekeeper, as he wanted to save you from doing all of the chores, though you did insist on taking over the bulk of the household duties because you actually found them enjoyable — scheduling, grocery shopping, meal planning, cooking, laundry, and paying bills.

It was that last little item that caused the first tiff between you and Matthew since you had moved in with him — in fact, the first tiff the two of you had had in months.

One afternoon, after Matthew returned home from practice, he kissed your cheek and grabbed a glass of water before sitting down at the kitchen table to chat with you, as he did almost every day. As you worked on a logo design for a client, Matthew sat scrolling through his phone; then, eyebrows furrowing, he paused.

“Hey, babe?” he began. You acknowledged him with a distracted “hmm?” without looking away from your screen.

“It’s no big deal if so,” Matthew spoke, “but did you forget to pay the water bill this month? And maybe… maybe the electric bill, too? I don’t see that they’ve been deducted from my account yet, so I just wanna make sure they’re not late.”

Heat crept up your neck and chest as you slowly closed your laptop, pursing your lips to the side. When you didn’t respond right away, Matthew looked at you curiously.

You took a deep breath and pulled your legs underneath you, curling up and wishing you could hide from this altogether.

“Don’t be mad…” you said softly.

Not a good start, Matthew thought to himself. He clicked his phone to lock it and set it aside, folding his arms on the table.

“Babe…” he said, a warning in the single word.

You picked nervously at the seam of your leggings. “Okay. I kind of…” you cleared your throat, stalling. “I kind of paid those two out of my own account. But just those two. I swear.”

Matthew rolled his eyes, pushing himself out of his seat as he muttered, “oh, my god.”

Yep, he was pissed.

After pacing for a few moments, Matthew crossed his arms against his chest and faced you.

“I thought we talked about this,” he said, clearly frustrated.

You dropped your head. “I-I know…” you said timidly. “We did. I just-“

“And you paid them yourself anyway? Despite having already discussed it?” he questioned, his volume rising.

With lightly shaking hands, you tucked some hair behind one ear and swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze, which was sure to be intense.

“Yes,” was all you could manage.

Matthew tossed his baseball cap on the table and sighed loudly, resuming his pacing across the hardwood.

“Baby, we can’t start out like this,” he said firmly. “I didn’t ask you to come live with me so we could split the cost of living like you’re some random roommate of mine. I asked you to move in because I want to share my life with you — I wanna share everything with you. I make more money than I’ll ever be able to spend, and you should not be spending your own money to pay our bills.”

As he spoke, you chewed anxiously on the inside of your cheek. When he paused, he sighed once more.

“Can you look at me, please?” he requested.

With a shaky inhale, you did as he asked, and his gaze softened the moment he saw the unease on your face.

“What’s goin’ on here, baby?” Matthew asked. “You’ve gotta talk to me. We’re partners.”

You pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt down to cover your closed fists as you considered how even to answer him. Finally, you decided on a simple response.

“I feel like a mooch,” you said quietly, your eyes traveling downward again.

Out of your frame of vision, Matthew’s face fell. He felt sick at what he had just heard. He crossed the room swiftly, easily pulling out your chair and turning it to face him. He knelt before you and gathered your hands in his own.

“Princess… hey,” he said gently as he reached to smooth his hand over your hair. “Look at me.” This time, it wasn’t a question.

You forced yourself to look at him, finding immediate comfort in the tender way he was now looking at you as compared to before. He squeezed your thighs soothingly as he spoke again.

“You are anything but a mooch,” he said with conviction. “You are my girlfriend, who I love — who I’m obsessed with. You’re the person I want to spend my life with. I wanna take care of you in every way I possibly can, including financially. You know what I mean?”

You nodded slowly, unable to think of a convincing argument against him.

“I don’t want to fight about this with you,” Matthew continued, shaking his head. “We shouldn’t be fighting about money. Listen, if you want to spend your money on things that are only yours, that’s fine. Even though I really wish you wouldn’t even do that.” He muttered the last part and you offered the tiniest smile. “I don’t want you footing our bills, babe. You don’t need to worry about that. Okay? I want you to let me take care of all of that. Please?”

You nodded slowly. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t want to go behind your back. I just felt like I wanted to contribute.”

Matthew gave you a disbelieving expression. “Contribute? Babe, you contribute so much. You’ve barely been here a month and shit around here is more organized than it’s ever been. You’ve already got this place running like a well-oiled machine,” he told you as you breathed a chuckle. “You take care of me in countless ways. Let me handle the money. That’s the easy part.”

You let your head roll back with a sigh, knowing that Matthew was being the logical one in this instance. “Okay,” you agreed as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I will. I’m sorry.”

Matthew shook his head, kissing the tip of your nose and then your lips. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “Let’s just go upstairs and have make-up sex since this was our first fight in forever.”

You threw your head back in laughter. “You are something else,” you told your boyfriend, who was already picking you up out of your chair and toting you upstairs.

_____

first game…

As you stood in your closet selecting an outfit for Matthew’s home opener, you felt a familiar pair of arms snake around your waist and a set of lips you knew well come to rest on your cheekbone. A grin overtook your face.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you teased as Matthew relentlessly planted kisses on your skin. “How was your nap? I didn’t wake you, did I?”

You turned his direction, and Matthew shook his head. You smoothed the short curls atop his head and he nearly purred, making you laugh.

“My nap was good,” he said with a yawn. “And you’re gonna make me fall asleep again if you keep doing that.”

You snickered, kissing his jaw, before you turned back around and reached for a couple articles of hanging clothing.

“Once you pick what you’re wearing, can you make me a cup of coffee?” Matthew asked from behind.

Your brows pulled together, puzzled, and you cocked your head as you turned back toward him.

“Are you really that helpless?” you said in your best teasing tone.

Matthew rolled his eyes lightheartedly and said, “No, I can make my own, but I don’t want to. We’ve got a good thing going.”

You shook your head, amused. “Okay, I’m lost,” you told him, hanging your outfit on the back of the closet door to steam later. “What are you talking about?”

Matthew followed you out of the closet and toward the hall.

“You made me my coffee before the last three preseason games at home, remember? And we won them all,” he said matter-of-factly. “So yeah, if you don’t mind, we’re gonna keep that going. Unless you wanna be the reason we lose…”

“No!” you exclaimed immediately. Matthew laughed — he knew that would do the trick, as you were nearly as superstitious as he. “I’m going now,” you said. As you turned to descend the stairs, you glanced back at him, batting your lashes. “Cream and sugar?” you asked sweetly. 

Matthew laughed hysterically and tickled your sides as he followed you down to the kitchen, thankful once more that you were here to share not only his home with him, but his life. 

[e-spits]

latched on - lee juyeon

words: 4.8k

genre: smut

warnings yandere!juyeon, dubious consent, knives, all around filth

The pressure balancing college and a social life was difficult. Classes were long and overbearing, the workload heavy to carry and parties or events were almost impossible to fit into your schedule. You rarely attended any social events, rarely met up with anyone aside your roommate if it weren’t to study in a café. And meeting new people was essentially a no go. Your roommate had tried tirelessly to get you out of your tight shell, dragging you to different parties but even when she was successful, you mind was absent. Too worried about the commitments you were neglecting. You did try to engage but what was important was getting through college though it didn’t stop your friend from trying.

On one Friday night, your roommate had selected a particularly rowdy party for you to attend. She smothered you in the dorm, soothing over your complexion with makeup and applying bright colours to your skin. You knew you didn’t dress up much but with the effort she was making, you knew her intentions were less than pure. It was too much effort to fight back and so you allowed it, even letting her loan you a strapless, skin-tight dress that blinded you with its red colour. Your roommate stood back, admiring her handy work, and grinning from ear to ear.

‘It’s beautiful.’ You mumbled, turning to examine your reflection in the mirror, eyes skimming over your own figure as though it were a mannequin. You did look nice but why. ‘What’s it for?’ You finally asked.  

Your roommate giggled below her breathe.

‘What?’

‘Don’t be mad.’ She continued, wandering over and placing her hands on your shoulders.

‘About?’

‘So, there’s this really hot guy in my class and I figured, you know since I’m already dating someone, maybe you could go for it. We both know you should.’

Your eyes narrowed toward the other girl, hands hitching themselves on your hips. ‘How cute?’

‘Like, fucking hot, okay, trust me.’ She nodded frantically, your stomach tightening. ‘Besides, it’ll be a step up from that stalker of yours.’ Your roommate laughed loudly, nausea filling your gut at the mere mention of the stalker, the so-called, not so secret admirer.

Three months ago, a letter had arrived at your doorstep. It was in ink of your favourite colour, the words like artwork or poetry. The writer had noted all the things they claimed to love about you, all the things they had noticed while watching you around campus. It was juvenile, strange but sweet, just a secret admirer like you imagined lots of people had. And then they became more frequent. Every few days another letter would appear outside your dorm room, full of more romantic rambling that made you only slightly uncomfortable at the time.

And then came the wave of presents, the many, many presents. Flowers, chocolates, clothes, brand new textbooks you’d been eyeing at the campus shop. It was then you knew you were being watched, surveyed, and documented. Your roommate found it hilarious, sharing your abundance of gifts and noting how even her boyfriend didn’t do this for her. A part of you liked being admired, liked the attention and romantic writings that came with being observed. However, the thrill of it dissipated when gradually, it became more intense.

The letters became several pages long, the handwriting descending into scribbles. And the longer they became the more descriptive, more explicit they were. You began not reading them, skimming the filthy intentions the writer had with a casual eye before throwing them out. Giving the presents to your roommate instead of indulging them. It all seemed like a prank, some kind of joke someone was playing, not an admirer at all. Your roommate insisted it was likely a horny, frat boy, obsessing over conquering a girl who had no interest in being conquered though it felt like more. The words eventually became heavier, threats beginning to soak in as the writer laid out their violent plans. You didn’t show anyone those letter, you didn’t want anyone to worry and so you carried it all by yourself.

This boy would probably be a step up.

The house was large, full of people and booming with music. All it made you think was how you’d rather be home, in pyjamas, watching sitcoms and studying. Your roommate shimmied you into the building, holding your hand as she pushed you through the crowds. Bodies brushed against your bare thighs as you picked up a couple drinks and eventually you made it to a particularly quiet stop in the corner couch of the lounge. You found yourself surveying the crowds, eyes clinging to each male face, wondering which one was the one your roommate had mentioned. And if maybe, your stalker was also here, hiding between the faces in the hubbub.

Your roommate nudged your ribcage, mumbling something beneath her breath before her eyes lit up, mouth spread in a wild grin.

‘He’s here?’

She merely gestured her head forward, yours following the motion. At first, you couldn’t see him but then through the huddle of people, one was clearly approaching. His face was warm, eyes bright, his smile so dazzling you couldn’t see anything else. Your friend was right, he was hot, insanely so but you still couldn’t pay attention fully. You were too busy being afraid your stalker may see you with someone else and carry out those plans he’d detailed.

The boy wandered over to you and your friend, pushing in and sitting between you two. Your roommate laughed lightly, giving you a certain look before she stood up from the couch. She wiggled her eyebrows at the boy and disappeared into the crowd, leaving you all alone. You looked over at him, his figure only inches from you, his expression covered in even more worry than yours.

‘Hi.’ You finally broke the silence.

‘Um, hi. I hope you don’t mind this, it’s just, your friend mentioned she wanted me to meet you, and I, I can see why.’

Your cheeks burnt. ‘It doesn’t bother me.’

‘Cool,’ he was grinning wildly, ‘I just, I think I’ve seen you around campus before, I don’t think I could forget anyone as gorgeous as you.’

A chuckle passed your lips, the boy taking a sip from his own drink as you did from yours. The thick, hot liquid rolled down your throat, worry beginning to subside the more drink you gulped.

‘I’m Juyeon, by the way.’

‘It’s nice to meet you, Juyeon.’

Though earlier you were wishing to go home, now all you wanted to do was sit in the crowded room and talk to this boy all night. Wishing everyone else could leave so you could hear every inflection in his honied voice. The more words that poured from his mouth, the more you forgot about the comfort of your dorm, instead, all your focus was on him. Juyeon charmed you relentlessly, dousing you in compliments but underneath the obvious flirting, he had substance. He spoke eloquently, voice soft and polite no matter what he said. He clearly knew a lot about the things he spoke of, which only made you more enthused to talk to him.

The party rolled on as did your conversation, Juyeon inching closer to you as his confidence settled in. While he was lovely and beautiful, you still didn’t want to engage in hooking up at a party, only to never see someone again. You knew boys all too well, they were charming when they were or weren’t interested and you hated the thought of the latter. With each subtle move he made, you slid away, wishing you could speak candidly without the distraction of his lips. You wanted him to kiss you, but you didn’t want him to be disappointed.

His hand reached over and smoothed over yours, thumb stroking the back of your hand. The warmth he emitted was intoxicating and it took everything not to melt into it. Juyeon was unfazed as though he hadn’t noticed your reservations at all, still moving in dangerously close. His mouth was only an inch or so from yours, his hot breath fanning your blushed cheeks. Your eyes closed for a moment, considering allowing contact to be made but as you felt acceptance greet you, a voice interrupted. Your roommate stood in front of the couch; eyes wide as she visibly regretted interrupting.

‘I’m sorry, I just, I wanted to check in, I’m pretty fucking tired if I’m being honest.’ She chuckled, smile dissipating quickly as she folded her arms.

Juyeon remained silent, sinking back into his original position while gulping down the rest of his drink.

‘It’s fine,’ you turned to the boy beside you, ‘it was really nice meeting you Juyeon, I, um, I’ll see around.’

He said nothing, leaving you to stand up and wander off in silence, taking your roommate’s hand and letting her guide you outside. You began meandering through the dark streets, your friend beginning to laugh hysterically.

‘God, I’m so sorry, you just, and he,’ she cut herself off with a loud giggle.

‘Shut up!’ You laughed back.

‘He was so mad.’

‘I think he was just annoyed he didn’t get any, it’s fine honestly. Besides, he’s so hot he can be mad if he wants.’ You giggled, wrapping your arm around your friend as you continued your way home.

‘Wait, are you whipped for someone? After one night, what’s gotten into you.’ She tilted her head down, eyes wide toward you as you found yourself smiling nonchalantly.

‘No, not him, thanks to you.’ She sighed as you spoke.

‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled dramatically, ‘there are other parties you can fuck at, don’t worry. Now, hurry up, I’m so tired.’

The dorm was silent when you arrived, darkness swirling around the space. Your roommate quickly dived into her bed, falling asleep almost immediately leaving you to roam your thoughts. As you did, you felt a little relieved the moment had been interrupted, that way, Juyeon might still be interested. Instead of being disappointed or bored, he know had to continue the chase and that meant he definitely would want to see you again. You smiled to yourself, cheeks hot at just the thought of the boy you’d spent hours talking to. Sleep eventually overwhelmed you, eyes heavy as you curled up in bed, still in your dress and fell asleep.

It was still night when your eyes were shocked open, a cold, metal sensation running over your neck. Pressure appeared upon the warm skin, your eyes wildly searching the room before you realised what was happening. Someone was kneeling against your arms, their legs either side of your torso though the room was so dark you couldn’t make out their face. You wriggled underneath the weight, but it was pointless. Your head snapped toward your roommate’s bed, it was empty, duvet thrown on the floor in a heap. Where was she? What was happening? A knife was pressed against your throat, the sharp metal grazing the sensitive skin.

‘Please, please don’t.’ You cried out, tears beginning to roll down your cheeks and splash onto the pillows beneath.

The figure above shifted slightly, their free hand reaching over and switching on your lamp. A yellow light danced across the room, your eyes adjusting quickly before realising who was threatening you. Juyeon. The same gummy smile, the same honey skin, the same big, bright eyes but now they were much darker. Something had consumed him, something dark.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Shh, shh, it’s okay baby, don’t worry. I don’t want to hurt you, I really don’t.’ Juyeon dragged the thick blade down your neck, letting it sit on your collarbone.

‘What’s happening, where’s my roommate?’

‘She’s fine,’ he rolled his eyes, ‘I just had to get her out of here, can’t have her interrupting again. Not when I, not when I got so, so close.’

‘I don’t understand.’ You cried.

‘Yes, you do.’ Juyeon smiled menacingly, pushing the knife into your skin ever so slightly. You could feel a droplet of blood roll down your neck, a tinge of pain rolling through your body.

His words didn’t make sense for a few moments, your mind racing through every word he’d said earlier in the night. He’d been so nice, so eloquent, so charming, and now he was so angry, so scary, so threatening. Just like your admirer. Just like your admirer… And then it dawned on you, Juyeon was your admirer, your stalker. It suddenly made so much sense, his entire demeanour created to lure you in, just like the letters and gifts had been.

‘It was you.’ You uttered in defeat, head sinking into the pillow as you gave in. Juyeon laughed, his smile transforming into a wild grin.

‘You were lovely last night, it was lovely. God, I couldn’t have planned for it better, we just, we clicked. If it hadn’t have been for that bitch of a roommate, fuck, all the things we would’ve done. We’d still be fucking now. But it’s okay, now I know you like me back, we can be together.’

‘You’re hurting me.’ You mumbled, trying to wriggle your neck away from the knife. Juyeon tilted his head, his free hand brushing through your locks, twisting around the hair softly. His fingers began stroking your face, travelling across to where the knife had nicked your skin. Another drop fell onto his thumb, the digit raising as he placed it in his mouth. Juyeon closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the metallic taste before he leant down.

You could feel his hot breath over your face, his mouth only inches from yours. The cool metal of the knife disappeared from your throat, Juyeon leaning down and replacing the sharp blade with his lips. His mouth wrapped around the small wound, tongue soothing over the skin. You closed your eyes tightly, beginning to try and move when he became distracted. Lifting your arms, you began trying to push the man away though it didn’t take long for him to notice. His lips left your body, sighing as he realised you were still trying to get away.

‘Hey, hey, you liked me earlier. Why it that different now? Now you know that I’ve loved you for months, it should be better, right? You know how much I want you. Don’t you?’

Your stomach tightened, realising there was no way out, you began to listen to him seriously. Juyeon had certainly showed he cared, and he was okay earlier, he was lovely earlier. That part of him had to be in there somewhere, maybe if you went along with his actions, that part of him would come back. Perhaps you could draw it out. You let out a deep breath, staring up at the boy knelt atop your arms.

‘I know,’ you mumbled, nodding, ‘I know.’

His mouth began leaning down again, yours leaving the pillow to meet his lips. Juyeon let his mouth press onto you strongly, engulfing you in the kiss before deepening it. You did nothing to fight back instead closing your eyes and letting yourself enjoy the touches.

It felt wrong that you were allowing him to do such a thing so tentatively, especially when he’d done nothing to deserve it. But when Juyeon forced his tongue into your mouth and let the muscle explore your wet skin, it was impossible not to give in. Your head tilted back in pleasure, the boy suddenly pulling away and immediately attacking your neck with kisses and small bites. He did this for a few minutes, his body becoming so entranced in the motions that he let your arms out from beneath him. However, you found yourself motionless still, eyes closed, relishing in the feeling of Juyeon nibbling at your neck.

The boy moved down your body, lips staying on your skin, as they travelled to your chest. Juyeon poked his tongue out, licking at the skin closest to your covered breasts before he looked up at you. His eyebrows furrowed together, body lifting as he peered down to your free hands then back up to your face. After a moment, you noticed he was no longer touching you and opened your eyes. Juyeon was hovering above you once more, face tightened in thought before he grabbed your hands again. His grip was harsh, like it had been with the knife, which he’d long ago forgotten. You tried to wriggle away from instinct but found it impossible beneath his strength, instead having your wrists moved to above your head. For a moment, you thought he was returning to how he’d been, however when he began tying your wrist to the bedpost, you knew he wasn’t quite there yet.

You were unsure where he’d gotten the tie but assumed he’d brought them along with him. Perhaps he’d expected you to fight it more, but he already had a certain control you didn’t understand.

After tugging on the tie, you realised quickly that you were trapped in place. Juyeon, still hovering above you, smiled widely, admiring his handy work.

‘There, we don’t have to worry about you going anywhere now.’ He said, still grinning.

‘I wouldn’t have gone anywhere.’

‘I know princess,’ Juyeon let his finger caress your cheek, moving down until it reach the neckline of your dress. ‘I just have to make sure, until I know how good you are. Because I know you can be a good girl, can’t you?’

You nodded frantically, pushing your chest up into his touch. Juyeon continued grinning, encouraged by your movements. He unzipped your dress, pulling the material down until it was thrown to the floor. The boy straddled your naked body, looking down at your figure as his hands continued their journey downward. Fingertips burning circles into your cleavage and stomach until they stopped just above the hem of your panties. He hesitated for a moment.

‘Say yes.’ He whispered almost silently as you remembered all the times you’d read those words in the letters he’d written. Say yes to him, in every way. And though you never imagined you’d be doing it, the word poured from parted lips almost instinctively.

Juyeon was spurred on, his mind suddenly clearer than it had been all night. You looked down at the boy as he trailed the underwear over your legs, chuckling when he noticed the wet patch in the centre. Juyeon sat over your calves, leaning down until his face was equal with your core. A whimper left your mouth, floating into the air as suddenly, you felt lips wrap around your already sensitive clit. You choked out a moan as Juyeon pushed further in your heat, mouth moving up and down, the muscle prodding your entrance. More squeals came from your lips, stomach tightening as you pushed your core up into his mouth. His tongue continued to work your heat, moving quickly and powerfully until you could feel a coil beginning to form in your loin.

You pushed up further, hoping to cause more friction and find your high. As abruptly as he had begun, Juyeon pulled away, letting you writhe around, helpless. A particularly loud groan bellowed into the room. The boy moved back up your body, leaving kisses on your naked form every so often, the remnants of spit sticking to your skin. He continued until his face was inches above yours, his fingers meeting your bottom lip and pulling your mouth open. Juyeon dropped his forehead against yours, eyes big as a long, pendulum of spit emitted from his mouth. It dangled between your faces, Juyeon holding your lips open until his fluid reached your tongue. The taste of him spreading out over your taste buds, it was the same thick, sweet taste of the drink you’d been gulping at the party. It made you feel closer to him, comforted almost.

Juyeon forced his mouth down on you again, lips mellowing out onto yours in a much sweeter way than before. He continued for a while before lifting up and moving off your body for the first time since you’d awoken. Your chest could finally move better but as soon as you became adjusted, Juyeon grabbed your hips and spun you around. Suddenly, your bare ass was met with cool air, your face pressing into the pillow. Juyeon let his fingers grip you tighter, pulling your hips upward so your back arched and heat was vulnerable to him.

Your face tried to turn back to see what Juyeon was doing, but it was impossible from the angle. Instead, you waited, restless, rocking softly wishing silently that his touch would return. The sound of rustling and shuffling greeted your ears but still no touch. The knowledge that he was likely undressing graced your mind but still no touch. You waited and waited until finally, the warm, hard flesh of Juyeon’s cock brushed against your slick entrance. The member twitched in anticipation before the boy pushed it inside you, the stiff member filling you. Your heat stretched and pulsated, Juyeon remaining motionless for a moment to let you adjust to his size. After a moment, he began thrusting in and out. Slowly at first and then quicker, the pace building and building until your body began rocking with his thrusts. Juyeon held you in place by your hips, his fingertips likely leaving bruised bevelled into your skin.

Juyeon continued his thrusts, the tip of his cock nearly prodding your cervix as he furthered his assault. Your body felt weak and would’ve likely collapsed if it weren’t for Juyeon holding you up.

‘God, this feels even better than I imagined, you’re so tight, so warm. Fuck.’ The boy moaned, deep growls passing his lips as his thrusts burned into your core. You pushed back against his length, allowing it to brush against your g-spot, the walls of your heat twitching at the contact.

The boy let one hand dance onto your back, stopping just between your shoulder blades. He pushed down, your breasts pushed onto the plush duvet, the new position making it much easier for Juyeon to brush against your g-stop again and again. You writhed in pleasure, stomach tight.

‘Don’t you move baby, don’t fucking move.’

Juyeon let his other hand raise high into the air, slamming down against the taunt skin of your ass. Pain sprung out onto the flesh. The boy lifted his hand again, slapping you again, and again and again. Though at first it burnt, the jolts of pain began to add to the mound of pleasure in your loin. Juyeon continued his tirade of slaps, your ass beginning to burn with pain though that only seemed to spur him on. After a few minutes of thrusting and slapping, he swapped hands and began slamming down on your other cheek.

His thrusts became messy, his open palm clamping back down onto your hip to steady himself. Groans fell from his mouth, your back arching to let him hit all the deepest parts of your heat. Another few minutes passed, Juyeon slowly down and then with a particularly guttural moan, he pulled his length from within you. Your core felt empty, cold almost until his hands flipped you over. The tie wrapped around your wrist tightening and digging into your flesh. It burnt, just like your ass still was. Juyeon now looked down on you, kneeling between your legs, naked.

The boy looked like a statue, made in a laboratory. You didn’t understand why he was so enamoured with you, willing to break so many laws and moral barriers to be with you. He must be crazy, he was.

Juyeon leant down, hand on the bedframe to hold himself up. His mouth lowered, lips wrapping around your nipple, sucking on the tender flesh, and letting it bounce back with a pop. A whimper bellowed from your mouth, Juyeon looking up at you with dark, arrogant eyes. He moved up, face hovering above yours, his hard member brushing against your entrance, teasing you. A smile sprouted on his lips, one hand disappeared to stroke his cock up and down your slick entrance.

‘Please…’ You found yourself mumbling absent-mindedly, not even realising what he had done before.

He laughed.

His face moved away from you suddenly, fingers clasping the knife that was sat on your bedside table. Your stomach tightened, Juyeon’s member still on your entrance. Juyeon held the knife forward, pressing the tip against your breast, pushing down slightly. You felt the point dig into your skin, a droplet of blood seeping from the warm flesh. Another small whimper fell from your mouth, Juyeon’s smile growing tenfold.

‘Beg for it.’

‘What?’

‘I said,’ Juyeon ordered, pushing the blade down harder, another drop of blood slithering down your breast. ‘beg for it.’

‘Please. Please.’

‘Please… what?’

‘Please fuck me, Juyeon. I want you to fuck me, please. I want you inside of me again, please, I want you to fill me up.’

Juyeon smiled wide, sliding the knife downward and then pulling it away from your skin. And with one sharp movement, he pushed his length into you, stretching you once more. You both moaned loudly, Juyeon beginning to build his pace again. Hips bucking onto yours. The thrusts became as quick as they were before, the tip of his cock nudging your cervix again, the coil of pleasure tightening in your loin.

Once again, Juyeon lifted the knife and this time pressed it to your throat. The sharp blade slightly scraping your elongated neck, still continuing his thrusts until they became messy again. Juyeon let out several grunts, the sounds roaming the room like music. The boy made sure not to cut you, instead letting you merely feel the threat of danger. He snapped his hips onto yours once more, the pleasure in your stomach burning and finally, unravelling.

A long, feral whimper exploded from your mouth, head tilting back as Juyeon continued to thrust. The feeling of you tightening through your orgasm made his cock twitch, the member releasing its warm liquid into your heat. The warmth of his seed caused another moan to fall from your mouth, Juyeon growling low as he rode out his high. The boy trusted one more time and then let his length slowly fall out of you.

He still held the knife to your throat, hands still clasped around the headboard. You waited for something, for Juyeon to untie you and snuggle up to you in bed. Instead, he knelt above you, knife still on your skin.

‘What are you going to do now?’ You asked as Juyeon looked down at the ground beside your bed. He sighed.

‘I’m going to keep you. I just haven’t decided where.’ The boy uttered as though it were the most normal thing in the world. Only now, you’d let him.

[weirdfanaus]

The Notebook

Pairing: Matthew Fairchild x fem!reader Headcanon

Words: 1554

Rating: General Audiences

Masterlist

Warnings: none

Matthew has a notebook he keeps carrying around and keeps looking in, noting things in it or drawing when he thinks no one is looking.

One day you silently try to sneak by him, you see that on a page, doodles surrounding them, are verses.

You, unfortunately, don't get to read anything more than the words her eyes sparkled before he closes it suddenly.

Matthew catches you looking and turns his face to you

"Everything all right?" 

"Yeah, yeah." 

You shake your head. 

He looks at you long and then he puts the leather-bound notebook inside his jacket and continues to look at you. 

You don't get to see more of what is written in that book until one night when he forgets his jacket at your place. 

The weather has just got warmer, summer is fastly coming by.

All the Merry Thieves and their friends come for a late brunch by your place.

You spend most of the day in the garden, playing cards, drinking and eating fruits and tarts. 

The night comes faster than you have all expected and all the guests leave when the clock streaks close to eleven. 

Matthew leaves with James, the cuffs of his jacket rolled, runes covering his pale skin. 

He is a bit too drunk, as usual.

Later that night you clean up the living space and when you lift his red jacket, the notebook falls open on the carpet. 

The same poem, now with more drawings of a woman with a big hat, flowers, mostly tulips in blue ink.

Most words are stricken off, with replacements on top or under them. 

You cannot understand much of what it is written, the writing too messy for you to understand.

Leafing through the pages, you end up on various Oscar Wilde quotes:

You can never be overdressed or overeducated.

With freedom, books, flowers and the moon, who could not be happy.

Quotes that you think match Matthew perfectly. 

More doodles of faces, eyes, splotches of green, red, black paint cover the pages. 

You read some poems, but don’t seem to fully understand them.

You close the book and put it back in its place.

The next day, you meet again, give him the coat, he smiles at you and kisses your cheek in thanks. 

More weeks pass by when he asks you to come to meet him in the Kensington Gardens, ready to spend a long day in the sun. 

You pack a blanket, a hat, a basket of fruits, tarts and sandwiches. 

You meet him by the Serpentine, under an old linden tree.

He has a blanket of his own, a small basket is by his feet.

His light pants and white shirt are cuffed, his vest thrown over the basket and he was barefoot.

He reads from a book that looks familiar to you. 

You put your basket on the corner of his blanket, take your sandals off and place your hat on the wooden holder. 

He raises his eyes from the words and smiles at you when you sit down. 

“Hello.” His tone was playful, light.

You smile, replying the same way.

He puts his book away and moves to kiss your cheek, which makes you softly blush.

He has been into kisses recently, you don’t understand why, but you enjoy it.

He sees your big basket and nods his head in its way saying:

“What do you have there?” 

“A lot of food. Amelie could not let me go without having a full meal with me. She wants me to get bigger than I am already.”

“You look amazing, mon coeur.” he replies immediately. 

You move the basket in his direction.

“I see that you have your own meal prepared.”

“Well, I wanted to be the one to offer food today. But unfortunately, society has other thoughts, am I right?” a boyish smile fills his face and you fight the urge to kiss his face.

“Unfortunately.” 

You watch how he brings his own basket next to yours and starts putting out food from both. 

Luckily, you don’t have the exact same food. 

You and your cook have picked to get things that are softer, usually eaten by you, while Matthew pulled out a box of smoked salmon and slices of bread. 

He arranged the food on plates, you try to help him multiple times, but he refuses, saying that he has it handled.

You eat a little bit of everything you have decided to bring, talk about the people walking by, the mundane couples, the children screaming, sometimes even jumping in the water, probably from a dare or because they have thrown their ball in the lake. 

You talk about books and you find out that he is rereading one that James has given him, A Tale of Two Cities.

“James keeps mentioning that his father is obsessed with this every time he sees me with it. And Mr Herondale praises my pick just as many times,” he states while looking at the cover.

“Love, love, love.” he sings, throws the book on his vest and turns to you.

He looks long at you, opens his mouth to say something, but suddenly stops as he has just realised something. 

You watch him take the notebook out and scribble in it.

“What are you doing?” you ask lightly.

His pen moves so fast on the paper that it makes you dizzy, so you choose to look at how his hair falls on his face.

“Taking notes…” he pauses. Lifts his head, looks at the water sparkling under the sun, pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “For my book.”

“You write?” 

“Sometimes.” his eyes were again on the page.

“That’s amazing, Matthew. Are you writing something grand as Lucie?” you know that his book is filled with short verses.

“No… Not really, I mostly write verses.” his eyes meet yours, they are shining.

“Sometimes I do that too, though,” he confesses. “I can show you something, but you won’t understand anything, right now.”

“Why not?”

“You can’t see yourself through my eyes, Y/N.”

You feel like you have just stopped breathing.

His eyes are big, the same colours as the leaves of the linden tree over your heads, his hair is curled and messy, bright as the sun.

You stood there, mouth slightly opened and you see how Matthew goes from courageous to shy and ashamed of what he has confessed.

You realize that it is because of your slow reaction, so you calm yourself and cup his face, the skin soft and you try to assure him that you don’t hate him for what he has just said.

“How do you see me?” you softly ask, voice low.

He looks at you caught off guard. 

He didn’t expect those words from you, but he doesn’t move his eyes from yours.

“I see how courageous you are, how you try to help everyone, how warm you are. You picked me as your friend and that speaks loudly to me.” 

You want to ask more, but you don’t want to interrupt him.

“I see your beauty. You love and give. You have no idea how much, just having you listen to me rant helps me in ways you cannot even imagine. I want to tell you everything. I want you to know everything about me…” he stops. 

You know that he wants to say more.

“I want you. I want to court you, Y/N,” he tells you instead. 

You haven’t expected him to tell you that, but it was something you have wanted to hear for a while too.

“I want to share a life with you. I want to wake up by your side. I want to kiss you whenever I want, without people commenting on it. I want to see you smile for the rest of my life, Y/N.”

You are speechless once again. 

His eyes, you lose yourself in his eyes every time. 

“I want that too, Matthew,” you whisper, not to scare him off.

The smile that breaks on his face is the biggest and most genuine you have ever seen from him.

You have never seen him that way, he seemed light, he looked so beautiful.

He kisses your cheeks, joy pulsing through both your bodies, but you cup his face again and stop him.

And you kiss him deeply.

You feel him smiling and you smile too. 

He moves his hands around your middle, he draws you in, your bodies now glued.

He gives you his family’s ring after he kisses you a couple dozen times.

You keep it on your thumb because of how big it is.

The two of you lay the rest of the day under that tree. Matthew continues to read, now aloud at your request, from Will Herondale’s favourite book.

When the sun starts disappearing, you gather your things and take a stroll through the park, your hand on his arm.

You share the same carriage and he takes you home, right at your doorstep.

He kisses your cheek, in goodbye, but you move to kiss his lips.

He smiles while walking down the porch and you watch him climb in the carriage, waves his hand and he disappears.

But that night is not the last you see his great smile.

tag list: @malfoysmatrioshka ​ @elleclairez @alebooknerd @fair-but-wilde-child

[lizbotw]

it’s only sharing a disgustingly sweet milkshake at the local college town diner after both of your evening classes that suna graciously provides the answers to the math homework.

the spongy pencil eraser is easy for you to sink your teeth into as you puzzle over his handwriting. “you know,” you mumble around the nib, trying to figure out if that’s a 5 or a 6, “i never know why you do this to me every week.” this time the drink with two plastic straws floating in an unhealthy heaping of whip cream is a syrupy strawberry flavor.

rintarou tips forward to sip at one of them and in your peripheral, chunky pink-coated fruit pieces travel up the clear tube and disappear between his lips. he releases the straw with an annoying ah that makes you frown, even if you weren’t concentrating in the first place. “aw, don’t tell me you don’t like hanging out with me.” he feigns hurt.

a well placed sip of your own allows you to avoid having to answer that—you have a personal rule of never being sappy in the presence of calculus. if you didn’t like him, suna knows you wouldn’t be hanging out with him—there are just some things you can’t do, even if it’s for the sake of your grade. none of this has to be said out loud of course, but he decides to be annoying and ask anyway.

actually—well... maybe hanging out is... not exactly how this appears to bystanders.

sharing a drink like this, you two probably look more like a couple on a (terribly cheap) afternoon date, rather than two broke college students that split meals to save money and believe that sharing answers for homework isn’t cheating, it’s collaboration.

ha, as if it would ever be different—things like the former never come true. maybe in movies, but that’s about where the line is drawn.

as if he knows what you’re thinking, suna raises an eyebrow at you over the glass, a smile playing on his lips—the same stupid look he always gives you. it feels particularly worse this evening.

it’s hard to avoid eye contact with him mere inches away, but you manage when a car painted a very interesting shade of red rumbles past the fingerprint covered window. you’re grateful for the distraction.

the subject changes when you realize suna has terrible taste when it comes to ordering milkshakes. “what flavor is this?” you spit out the word as though the very concept of calling this a real flavor is more disgusting than the drink itself, smacking your lips and screwing up your face at the excessively saccharine, artificial strawberry aftertaste.

this is no ordinary strawberry milkshake. no, this is a so-bad-only-suna-rintarou-would-order-something-this-horrible-(and-not-necessarily-on-purpose-either) strawberry milkshake.

“valentine’s valor,” he states matter-of-factly like those words mean anything to you. you stare at him until he elaborates. “their valentine’s special,” he clarifies and is gifted with a sarcastic thumbs-up from you in thanks—it is pointedly ignored and suna slings an arm over back of his seat. “dunno the exact flavor though. forgot.”

it tastes like the embodiment of pink, you decide. valentine’s valor. what a stupid name. there are a million and one better words that start with v... you can name at least five with a little thinking. you should ask them to hire you as part of their marketing team, you decide.

maybe it’s fitting title though. you certainly need valor to even think about taking another sip of that... concoction—which you do because you are obsessed with getting your money’s worth.

“valentine’s day was half a week ago?” your mental calendar helpfully supplies.

the clatter of pans in the back kitchen somehow mingles charmingly with the way rintarou throws his head back to laugh—a scene straight out of a movie really. you decide you hate him in the moment. “right you are. want a prize?” ugh. you stick your tongue out at his tone.

great. as if to add insult to injury, of course you’re sharing an out-of-date love holiday special with suna of all people. valentine’s was four days ago and this is where you are on a thursday night. the sticky upholstery of the booth seat, ripped and fraying at the corners, squeaks and groans and attaches itself to the fabric of your jeans as you shift around, suddenly hot. what a strange situation to be in, you think. this has to be a metaphor for life—then again, you’d been thinking this whole... thing has been a metaphor anyway.

yup, ever since suna sat next to you in a calculus II lecture all those fated months ago and took pity on how much you fucking sucked at math, up until the present where he takes slightly less pity on you but does enjoy emptying your dorm mini-fridge and making you pay for his milkshakes—all of it. this entire thing with him. one big stupid metaphor.

the specifics of how you came to have a routine like this are certainly murky, but two things are for certain—one, your calculus grade is certainly a lot better than it would have been otherwise, and two, you have one friend more than you did at the start of the school year. (that last one is kind of a big deal, you think. the college social scene is brutal. the word friend has started to become more disappointing than exhilarating lately though.)

rin reaches to your left to pick at the fries you’d ordered as a side—you’ve learned not to try and stop him. “also,” he adds, mouth full, “you’re totally getting me a new pencil after this.” yes, true, the pencil you’re currently leaving frustrated teeth marks all over isn’t yours. very easy to forget in the moment. you’ve probably destroyed 15 of his pencils by now for the 15 weeks of the last semester—only 7 so far for the current one. you do the mental math.

instead of drawing in the sharp lines of the differential equation that should be going in the question box, you lightly trace in the curves of a 2 and then another one next to it in the corner of the worksheet, graphite underlining them both in one swoop. the horribly thin paper of the school library’s printer is scratchy as you write but soon you flip the pencil over and under your fingers to tap the eraser (that has seen better days) just below what you wrote. “this is pencil number 22.”

suna leans over to look at the number as if you hadn’t just told him what it said. what an idiot. “glad you’re keeping count.” he settles back into his seat. “when can i expect my reimbursement?”

“you’re funny,” you say, without a hint of humor in your voice. the pretty 22 you had written now has flower petals growing off of the sides as you get distracted doodling along the edges of your work. it’s quiet for a moment as he watches you, or maybe as he takes the chance while you’re distracted to shove more french fries down his throat—either option is plausible and you don’t lift your eyes to check.

something occurs to you.

“rin.” you take an extended pause in between the words as you continue drawing, just to annoy him. you don’t continue speaking until he grumbles in acknowledgment (you try to hide your smile). “do you ever doodle in your notebooks?” now that you thought about it, suna was surprisingly pretty straight-laced when it came to class—you couldn’t ever recall him ever slacking off to the degree that meant his pages were filled with hearts and stars and flowers and suns and atomically inaccurate animals and tiny people in different colored ink. your work was always certainly the more vibrant out of the two (perhaps that could explain your grades and how you understand like... nothing in your lectures, but you decide correlation does not equal causation).

“waste of time,” he says around another mouthful of fries, another one already halfway there to his mouth.

suna is also surprisingly negative at times—but the blue book flipped open to his homework says maybe he’s just a liar though. you squint at it.

“it’s still pretty early but we probably should get out of here soon,” suna says, pulling his phone out from his pocket to check the time and leaning his elbows on the table. “i’ll walk you back. your roomie doesn’t leave the gym until 9—before you ask, yes i’ve been keeping track. it’s not stalking if it’s for my own sake.”—rin is, of course, referring to the long standing rivalry between him and your (very nice, might you add) roommate you don’t really understand but which has cumulated in him deciding he would avoid them as much as humanly possible purely out of spite. (“the only person i like in dorm 302 is you,” he’d told you one time and the throwaway sentence maybe made your heart flutter more than it probably should’ve.)

the bell above the front door jingles behind you as another patron enters. rin glances up at the sound and then returns to his phone with a bored bat of his eyes, probably scrolling through twitter or replying to texts, and picking at his teeth with a toothpick (where did he even get that?).

you try to get back to work (copying) but something in your gut tells you there’s more to his notebook than the messy handwriting and crossed out words that meet the eye.

with suna distracted, you take the chance to carefully slide the book towards you and then, in a single quick swipe, pull it into your lap under the table, already leafing to the back pages—everyone knows that’s where the real secrets are—not sure what to expect. a flash of color makes you pause and you flip back to a page that has the corner folded into a tiny, crisp triangle.

whatever you were thinking suna had stashed in the back of his calculus notebook certainly does not match up with what’s staring you in the face currently. sparkly, gel-inked hearts in neon colors glitter under the fluorescent overheads. in each of them, written in capital letters neater than you thought possible for suna, is your initials, a small plus sign in the middle, and then S.R. (for none other than suna rinatoru) next to it. it instantly makes sense to you. “rin, what the fuck.” one side of the book dangles from your hand, pages fluttering, and you hold it up for him to see, other hand flying to cover your mouth because you don’t know whether to laugh or pretend to be mortified or what.

it’s very amusing to watch how suna goes from a disinterested stare, to widened eyes, to reaching over the heaps of school supplies to attempt to grab the book from you, frantic. you hold it just out of reach. “what are you—” an old lady at a table shushes him when he half-screams. “—give that back,” suna whisper-yells instead in the greatest verbal equivalent of tiny caps you’ve ever heard.

“not a chance.”

he looks like he wants to lunge across the table and pry his prized possession from your meddling hands, but also has half the mind not to make a scene. getting kicked out and then subsequently banned from his favorite diner all on a noise complaint and disorderly conduct accusation was not ideal.

you hum, flip back to your place, and observe the drawings covering the lined pages. you shoot him a venomous smirk over the edge of the cover, one that’s more theatrics than anything, and say with all the satisfaction of someone who knows they have all the power, “oh, this is gold.” he deflates and you feel grateful he doesn’t see right through your facade because oh man are you sweating inside right now. what the fuck? no way suna rintarou is drawing little hearts with both of your initials in it like a lovesick middle schooler. no fucking way. you almost want to tell him that you did the same thing once when the thoughts about him had gotten especially bad (you felt guilty afterwards though, thinking you never had a chance with him, but... now... if he’s doing the same—well, that kind of changes everything).

suna is utterly defeated you think—doesn’t even try to defend himself, just slumps in his seat with a groan. you at least expected a “i can explain!” from him, a last attempt at dignity, not the resigned “i’m never going to live this down, am i?” he mumbles after a few seconds. well, either works for you.

“nope,” you quip, maybe a little too cheerfully because the response you receive is a distressed wail and him banging his head against the table. the old lady shushes him again. you chuckle at that (it feels a little wobbly though because once again, freaking out here) and flip the page. you stop.

this one has similar perfect little hearts drawn all over it, but there are other things. cute, standard shaky drawings of misshapen dogs and volleyballs and other things you never thought suna would take it upon himself to create but all of which make sense are there. but there’s something else. little scribbles in the corners with your last name swapped with his and even him trying out his name with your last one—all of them are scratched out but not so much you can’t read them. a list on the right in a very tiny font that makes you think he was embarrassed even penning the words is titled “date ideas?” (the question mark is in red and the dot is a heart) and has several popular spots around town written down in the local lingo of unofficial names for them.

“listen... please let’s forget about this.” rin’s voice is muffled and he’s still faceplanted. “it’s fine if you don’t... you know... yeah.” if you don’t feel that way, he means. true, the doodles were a pretty good indication of his feelings.

what to do...

well... you take pity on him, let your lips upturn and your eyes soften to reflect the sentiment, and shut the book with a quiet thud. you slide it back across the table from where it came and back to him silently. you give it a resounding pat when suna peeks up at you, expression saying it all—he was so going to get you back for this. you stick your tongue out—acceptance of the challenge. and just like that, you’re friends again—maybe that’s what’s so great about suna.

as you get ready to leave and slowly begin the trek back to the dorm buildings with him, street lamps glimmering a pasty yellow, there’s no awkward tension, no need to ask questions, no verbal wonderings about what ifs between you two. it’s just joking and shoving each other around and challenges to see who can run to the next tree the fastest in the middle of the chilly february night. you know, maybe for now you’ll keep your own thoughts a secret.

[the-bau-quinjet]

With you, he wants it all.

Part 2!! You can find all the info about why this is such a mess in Part 1! Also, I totally meant to post this earlier but Taylor Swift’s new album wrecked my plans. 

Summary: Reader is a famous singer with a murderous stalker. Spencer has to go undercover to protect her. 

warnings: mentions of murder, anxious reader, stalker

Word Count: 9972

The next time you wake up, the room is significantly brighter. You feel around in the cold bed, realizing Spencer isn’t there anymore. You have to force yourself to open your eyes to combat the overwhelming urge to roll over and sleep for another twelve hours. The clock reads 12:07. You can’t help but think you deserve more sleep as you force yourself into a sitting position. Once you finally sit up, you hear someone shuffling around, whispering in the other room. It’s too quiet to try to make out the voice, but you definitely heard something. Without too much thought, you quickly jump out of bed, grabbing the only thing you can find that even remotely resembles a weapon- the bible from the hotel drawer.

Slowly, you push the door open, getting ready to make a break for the door to the hallway at the first sign of danger. Remembering everything from yesterday has you on edge as you move toward the kitchen area, looking for anything out of place. You duck around the pillar separating the kitchen from the living room only to find it empty. As you finally let your guard down, you feel a hand on your shoulder. Without thinking, you turn around getting ready to slam the book into whoever is touching you.

 Spencer catches your arms before you hit him. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. It’s just me. You’re safe.” You breathe out a sigh of relief, dropping the book and hugging Spencer.

 “I’m sorry! I just heard a noise and you weren’t in bed anymore and I wasn’t sure where you went and I wanted to make sure nobody else was in the room, but I-“

 “It’s okay. Just breathe.” Spencer is rubbing soothing circles on your back as you cling to him as if your life depends on it. A few minutes pass, before you calm down enough to pull out of the hug. You run a shaky hand through your hair, moving to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee.

 “I put the coffee on so you can grab some when it’s done. I’m going to get dressed so we can figure out where we want to go for inspiration today!” You wink at Spencer before heading back into the bedroom to shower and change. You throw on a pair of jeans and a light sweater after squeezing the extra water out of your hair. You like to let it dry naturally on days like this.

 You make your way back into the kitchen only to find Spencer has already changed into a navy and white plaid button down, khakis, and a navy cardigan. He is sitting at the table drinking his coffee when you enter the room. You immediately put the kettle on, reaching into the cabinet to pull out your tea collection.

 “No coffee for you?” Spencer asks, gesturing to the half full pot on the counter.

 “Oh, nope. Not for me. It’s only palatable if I add way to much sugar and then I get all antsy. I only have coffee if I have a really good reason to stay up.” You chuckle as you add the teabag to the mug you set on the counter. You sit on the counter, swinging your legs as you sip your tea.

 “So, where do you want to go?”

 “For what?” Spencer pretends to not know what you’re talking about.

 “It’s time to start writing silly!” You grin at his deer in a headlights expression. “Spencer, I told you not to worry. We are just looking for general ideas right now. Anything that could potentially lead to a song. It’s more fun to observe others during this part of the process because the ideas are less specific.”

 “I don’t even know where to start!” He actually seems nervous about this.

 “Spence, let’s just go to your favorite coffee shop. And don’t tell me that you don’t have one. You’ve already drunk half that pot of coffee.”

 “Why my favorite?” He actually looks taken aback at the suggestion.

 “Well, for one because I’m not from here, so I don’t know where to go.” You try to backpedal, but you’ve started a list. Something he is all too eager to point out. “And two?” He’s got his brows furrowed, a look of pure confusion adorning his face.

 “If it’s your favorite, then you’ve been there before.” You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Well yes, but your point?” The confusion is still present, but his words are laced with exasperation.

“You might just be comfortable enough in your surroundings to suggest a song idea.” You shrug as you say it, trying to make it feel more casual.

 “You considered whether or not I would be comfortable?” He seems genuinely surprised now.

 “Of course. I want you to help me, so I gotta butter you up.” You try to cover up your blush with a joke.

 “Thank you.” HIs words seem surprised, but the two of you move on. Spencer grabs his satchel, and you your jacket, as the two of you exit the hotel to head to the café. You opt for walking since the weather is not too hot. You don’t say much during the walk. After the moment in the kitchen, you feel a bit nervous. A few fans stop you along the way for a picture or an autograph, but mostly you just enjoy each other’s company. Nobody pays much attention to Spencer, rather opting to ignore him to get your attention. Every time someone comes up to you; you make a point to say excuse me or smile at him before addressing the fans though. You just don’t want him to feel left out or like he’s not important.

 You finally make it to the café. Spencer opens the door before guiding you in, again placing his hand on your back. You thank him as you make your way up to the counter to order. You order a chai latte for yourself, gesturing for Spencer to order his when the barista asks you if you need anything else. You make sure to add two scones to the order before sliding your card into the machine before Spencer has a chance.

 “It’s my fault you’re here with me, so please. My treat.” He shakes his head slightly, a small smile forming on his face.

 “How many times do I have to tell you, none of this is your fault?” He gives you a look as you two move to find a table after accepting the scones.

 “I know.” You don’t sound sure as you take your seat. He doubles down the staring as you continue. “I promise. I know. It was just a joke.” You sound more sure of yourself that time, earning another smile from Spencer.

 The barista brings you your drinks as you settle into the corner booth. You set your phone up on the table, pulling up the recording from yesterday. You pass Spencer your headphones from your purse so he can listen to what you’ve already come up with.

 You take this time to really study him. The sun’s rays are streaming in through the blinds on the window, causing slight shadows to drift across his features. You take in the sharp lines of his jaw as he turns to look around the café, listening to the various melodies and lyrics you sang for the team. His brown locks appear golden as the sunlight reflect off the highlights. He’s sporting a slight stubble from not shaving for a few days. His hazel eyes drift across the faces of everyone in the room, not settling for long on any one person.

 You shift your attention to his hands. He has one draped across the table, lightly tapping along as he listens. His long fingers are mesmerizing. You begin to recognize he is tapping out the melodies as if he were playing the piano. The other hand is wrapped around his coffee cup. You bite your lip as you think about all the things those hands are capable of. Your mind wonders as you stare. You are staring so intently at the way his hand grips the cup, you don’t notice when he removes the headphones.

 Spencer clears his throat to catch your attention. “That was incredible. How do you come up with ideas so fast?” He looks like he knows exactly what you were thinking, but is too kind to bring it up. He’s just doing his job, and this isn’t a date. 

 “Oh, um thanks. I guess the BAU is just full of inspiration. The song writing process is a little different every time, but sometimes I can think of random lyrics and melodies.” You try to smile as you force yourself to focus. “Think back to a time where you felt an emotion really strongly. It can be whatever emotion you want. Then, try to put it into words. I like to use common phrases or metaphors because it can be fun to twist it into something new.” You close your eyes as you think back to how you felt the moment you understood there was a man out there killing people because he is obsessed with you. Maybe it’s a little too soon to write that one out. The idea does give you another way to explain it to Spencer. “It’s kind of like therapy. You can talk out your feelings and share them with people. It’s just a bit more public.” Spencer looks like he’s contemplating his entire life as you sit in this coffee shop.

 “Spence,” you say it lightly to draw him out of his own thoughts, “don’t worry about it. You don’t have to share anything you don’t want to. I just wanted to get the ball rolling. Why don’t we try something else?” He looks grateful as he nods. “Great. Pick out someone in the coffee shop, preferably part of a group.” He looks around before his eyes settle on someone.

 “Okay, now tell me what they’re thinking about.” He looks confused, like a lost puppy. “It’s called people watching. Just make up a story about what they might be doing here.”

 You and Spencer discuss ideas for the next few hours. He picked out a young man, maybe about 19 years old. He was clearly here with friends trying to catch a break from studying if the backpacks on the floor were any hint. Spencer noticed all of that immediately of course, being that he is a profiler.

 His story sounded just like the profile Hotch told you yesterday, although much less horrifying.

 “White male, late teens to early twenties. He is likely a STEM major. This is the first time he has let loose in a while, normally choosing to forego the party life for studying. He likely has immense pressure on him from his family to succeed and do well in school.” You nod along, not having any idea where this information is really coming from. He sounds so confident, you can’t help but ask how he knows all that.

 “You’re incredible. How did you figure all that out?” You stare in wonder at the man across from you. He doesn’t meet your eye, but responds nonetheless.

 “His age is fairly obvious to observe. His bag is fuller than the others, indicating a major that requires more coursework. He keeps checking his watch, almost as if he knows he is wasting time that could be spent working toward a goal. The family pressure can be inferred by the other behavior. It is more likely a young adult is studious due to a strict upbringing with a focus on work ethic and goal-driven activities.”

 “Amazing.” You sigh as you look around the room. “My turn.” You point to a couple sitting a few tables away from you. “Those two are exploring the possibility of taking their relationship past that of friendship. They obviously like each other and are too nervous to say anything.” Almost as if to prove you aren’t a profiler, the two lean across the table for a kiss. You laugh it off, knowing it’s just a game for you.

 “Or maybe not. Either way, their song would be about new love. Something slow and pretty.” You smile as you turn back to Spencer. “Your turn again!”

 The two of you go back and forth a few times. His stories were really just profiles, but after a few tries he leaned into the fun, game-like nature of people watching. Of course, his last story didn’t stray too far from profiling, but it was much more dreamlike in the way he presented it.

 “The woman sitting by the window,” he said, subtly pointing to an older woman at a table alone, “she’s waiting to see her grandkids for the first time in years. Of course, she’s excited to see them again, but she’s nervous. What if they don’t like her? What if she can’t patch things up with her… I’m guessing daughter?” You smile brightly at the story. Family moments were usually the most inspiring for generic song ideas.

 “Good job, Spence! What would the song be about?” The question clearly caught him off guard. For the past few stories, you asked how he came to those conclusions. It was so fascinating to hear how his mind works. This time though, you thought he could really be on to something. You give him an encouraging nod, as you set your phone up to record again.

 “It could be about- about family.” He states it so firmly; you know he wants to say more. “She is sitting there thinking about the memories she has with her own parents and grandparents, so the song could be a reflection on days spent enjoying their company. Maybe future memories they can make together.” He smiles, albeit shyly.

 “That is a really good idea! It fits with the vibe of the lyrics I came up with for Rossi.” You see the moment it clicks in his head. I don’t know why all the trees change in the fall, but I know you’re not scared of anything at all. Don’t know if Snow White’s house is near or far away, but I know I had the best day with you today.

 He actually seems pleased with himself now. “We could work on that one tomorrow. We should get up and walk around though, we’ve been sitting here for hours.” You reach for his hand as you scoot out of the booth, pulling him along with you.

 You stuff your hands in the pockets of your windbreaker as you head outside. You feel an overwhelming desire to be close to him, but you don’t want to overstep. The early evening crowd is out and about, bumping into the two of you as you walk back to the hotel at a leisurely pace.

 “Why don’t we go order some room service and just hang out for the rest of the night? All that people watching was exhausting.” You turn to grin up at him as you continue walking. He hums in response, looking down at you in return. You swear you can feel the mood shifting, but the moment is broken by a tap on your arm. You turn to examine the source of the interruption only to find a little girl who couldn’t be more than 10 years old.

 “Hi there!” You squeeze Spencer’s arm before ducking down to talk to the little girl. “Are you parents here?” She nods turning to look at a couple a few feet behind her, slightly out of breath, as if they just chased her down the street.

 “Carly! Honey, you can’t run off like that! You could have gotten hurt!” The man scolds her, but is clearly relieved she didn’t get away from them.

 “Sorry daddy! I just wanted to say hi to Miss Y/N! She sings my favorite song ever!” You wave at the parents before turning your attention back to the little girl.

 “Hi Carly, it’s nice to meet you! You really do need to be careful though. You should always stick with the adults so you don’t get lost.” Your voice is playful, but your expression is serious. The only way to truly convey that message to a child you have no parental claim to. She nods in response.

 “Mommy! Take a picture!” You pose with the girl as her mom takes a picture.

 “We’re so sorry for interrupting your date! She just saw you and took off down the sidewalk.” You blush at what the woman is implying about you and Spencer, not daring to look at him.

 “No worries at all. I’m always happy to meet a fan. Have a good night!” You wave goodbye, linking your arm with Spencer’s as you start to walk. He gives you a curious look, but you just laugh before joking “What? It’s so I don’t get lost.” He chuckles at your childlike behavior, but shifts so you can hold him closer.

 The rest of the walk is peaceful. You don’t see any more fans, which is good because you aren’t paying enough attention to anything at the moment. You keep picturing the look on Spencer’s face right before the little girl interrupted you. What was about to happen?

 Before you know it, you and Spencer are back in the room. He steps into the kitchen to call Hotch while you call to order dinner. You change into the FBI sweatshirt from yesterday and a pair of sleep shorts before settling on the couch to wait for Spencer. A few minutes later, he joins you on the couch after he hangs up. “The team has ruled out all the performers. It’s not surprising as the unsub wouldn’t be brave enough to perform for a crowd. They are still working through the lists of vendors and crew members.”

 “Good. That’s progress. Progress is good.” You nod to yourself, trying to convince yourself everything is normal.

 “Talk to me, what’s going on inside your head?” Spencer reaches out to take your hand while you stare at the ground.

 “I don’t know. I guess it’s just hard. It’s hard to have such an amazing day and then think about how it only happened because people are being killed. I guess I feel guilty.” You keep going before he can interrupt you. “I know it’s not my fault that this guy is out there doing horrible things, but I still feel bad for enjoying myself while it’s happening.” You don’t have any tears left to cry. You look over to Spencer to find him staring back at you.

 “Y/N, you are such a selfless person. There isn’t anything else you can do right now. We haven’t had any more victims, likely because nobody has posted about how excited they are for your shows since we still have 13 days before the next one. We are going to catch this guy.” You form your mouth into a soft smile before nodding at him. “What movie do you want to watch?”

 You smile at his attempt to distract you. “You pick. Anything that will take my mind off things, but not require too much thinking.”

 Spencer is racking his brain for a movie that fits your description when you hear a knock on the door. “Must be the food, I’ll get it.” When you return with the food, you find Spencer still thinking over movie choices.

 “Okay, how about this. What do you like to watch when you really need a pick me up?”

 Again he looks surprised that you would take his opinion into account. “Um, usually Doctor Who, but that’s not a movie it’s a-”

 “TV show. Right. Is that the one where they fly around in a telephone booth?”

 “First of all, it's a police box, not a phone booth. Second of all, Doctor Who started a quarter of century before Bill and Ted even went on their bodacious adventures. So really, they should just call it Bill and Ted's excellent rip-off, I mean at least then...”

You listen as he rambles about why people always think it’s a telephone booth. You can’t help but smile at how cute he is when he’s talking about something he’s passionate about. You don’t realize he asked you a question until he clears his throat with a confused expression.

 “Sorry, I was rambling again.” He looks dejected, and you would do anything in the world to make him smile again.

 “No, I’m sorry!” You scoot closer to him to convey your point. “I was listening at first I promise. It’s just, you looked so happy I got distracted. Let’s watch Doctor Who.” You turn to face the TV before you say anything else that makes you feel like a complete moron. He sorts through the food as you find the show online, setting it up to play on the TV. There’s random free episodes on demand, so you end up staring with the 11th doctor.

 You are completely captivated by the show. Every so often, Spencer would comment on a theory about what one specific prop could mean only to have you cover your ears and warn him about spoilers. During an episode about creepy angel statues, he goes on a tangent about how Amy could have avoided the whole situation. Once he starts mentioning characters you haven’t met, you actually have to reach your hand up to cover his mouth to get him to stop talking. His words putter to a stop, eyes widening in shock as he stares at you.

 “Spence, I absolutely love how passionate you are about Doctor Who. But it doesn’t matter how adorable it is when you ramble on about something. If you spoil one more thing before I can actually watch the whole show through, I will not hesitate to smack you.” You stare right in his eyes the entire time, watching as they widen with each word. You had to get a lot closer to him to actually reach his mouth. He had moved forward, animatedly waving his arms around as he talked about various plot points, so you were basically sitting on his lap to avoid being smacked in the face.

 You drop your arm from his face slowly, as if any sudden movement would break the spell you were under. You lean forward, connecting your forehead to his. You take a steadying breath as you close your eyes. Your about to close the gap when his phone rings. Again, the moment is lost. You only move enough so that he can reach into his pocket for his phone. As he answers the call, you shift in his lap to cuddle into his chest.

 “Morgan, what do you need?” Maybe you’re imaging it, but he almost sounds the slightest bit annoyed. You can just make out what Morgan is saying on the other end of the phone.

 “Calm down, Pretty Boy. We might have a lead, Hotch and Emily are tracking it down now. I’ll meet you at the hotel in the morning to go over it all with you and Y/N.”

 “Okay, thanks for the update.” He sounds so normal now, you think you must have imagined the annoyance earlier. He hangs up the phone, tossing it next to him on the couch. He wraps his arms around you before shifting so you’re both laying down.

 “Let’s just relax and watch more Doctor Who. Morgan is stopping by in the morning to talk about the case.” You nod in agreement, turning to face the TV. A few episodes later, you and Spencer are drifting in and out of sleep. Neither one of you really wants to interrupt what you’ve got going, instead opting to just fall asleep on the couch.

 --

 You hear the faintest knocking noise that pulls you out of your slumber. It takes a few minutes for you to recognize you are on the couch, wrapped up in Spencer’s arms. He must have pulled a blanket over the two of you last night after you fell asleep. Before you can get up to evaluate the knocking, the door opens and Morgan comes rushing in. The concern on his face is quickly replaced with a knowing smirk. You blush, jealous that Spencer is somehow still asleep.

 “Hi Morgan. Sorry to alarm you. We must have fallen asleep watching TV last night.” At the sound of your voice, Spencer slowly begins to wake up. He smiles sleepily at you before realizing your attention is elsewhere. He practically throws you off the couch in his effort to sit up when he realizes Morgan is in the room.

 “Sorry!” Spencer looks at Morgan, then back to you. “I’m so sorry!” You laugh as you stand up.

 “Don’t worry about it.” You settle yourself in the chair, gesturing for Morgan to sit next to Spencer now that he isn’t sprawled across the entire sofa anymore. Turning to Morgan, you ask about the case “What did you want to talk about?”

 “We have been focused on going through the people who work for the tour. It makes the most sense for them to travel with you, otherwise it would require a lot more planning.” You can feel the nerves growing in your stomach. “Garcia found a name we wanted to run by you.” He hands you a picture before saying the name. “Ryan Moore. He works-“

 “On the instrumentals. I know. He usually runs the sound booth during the shows. I don’t know him that well, but we’ve talked a few times.” You think back over your past conversations. “It couldn’t be him.” You are 100% sure he is not the unsub, and the agents don’t fail to notice the conviction in your voice.

 “What makes you so sure?” Spencer is flipping through the case file Morgan brought with him. He doesn’t even look up when he asks the question, too focused on memorizing every detail about this man’s life.

 “Well, Hotch told me the unsub wouldn’t be able to talk to me right?” You look to Morgan for confirmation.

 “Yes. He wouldn’t approach you or seem confident when talking with you if you approached him.” Morgan confirms what you’re thinking.

 “Great. So it can’t be him.” You smile to yourself for actually contributing to the case. “Last week, right after the Columbus show, he asked me out. The unsub wouldn’t be brave enough, right?” The utter joy in your voice startles Spencer enough that he finally looks up from the file.

“Alright then. He’s likely not the unsub, but we’ll finish the investigation into him just in case.” Morgan settles back into the chair he’s sitting in, making no move to leave even though the conversation is clearly over. There is an obvious smirk on his face as he looks at Spencer.

 “Well, I’m going to make some breakfast, feel free to watch TV or something.” You smile awkwardly at the two men, unsure of why there is suddenly a strange tension in the air. As you move into the kitchen, you connect your phone to your Bluetooth speaker. Listening to music while you cook has always been calming for you. You honestly prefer baking, but eggs and sausage with toast sounds perfect right now. You pull out the ingredients, humming softly as you dance around the kitchen. You can just barely hear that Morgan and Spencer are talking in the other room, but not enough to make out what they are saying. It just sounds a bit more intense the conversation you just had.

 You choose to ignore it and give them their privacy instead focusing on cooking. You end up making scrambled eggs the way your mom taught you, by mixing in some chive and onion cream cheese. You pop some English muffins in the oven under the broiler while you place the eggs and sausages in dishes. After turning the music down, you move all the food to the table. You’re about to invite Spencer and Morgan to have some food when you hear their conversation.

 “I’m telling you man. She likes you. You should go for it.” Morgan is clearly trying to encourage Spencer, but he won’t hear it.

 “Morgan, it’s not like that. It’s probably just transference because I’m here to make sure she doesn’t get hurt. Plus, you saw the smile on her face when she talked about Ryan asking her out. She was beaming.” He sighs, almost wistfully as you consider what he’s saying. Surely you are capable of separating your feelings for him from the situation. Would you like him if you had just run into him on the street? Plus, what does Ryan have to do with this?

 You move back to the stove to remove the English muffins before they burn, putting them on a plate as well. Ultimately, you decide to try to straighten out your feelings for Spencer before making a move. You want to be sure. If there is even a shred of doubt in your mind, Spencer will surely be able to see it on your face. Stupid profilers.

 Their conversation died down while you were dealing with the muffins, so you walk back to the other side of the room. You mumble out “I made food, you’re both welcome to have some” before returning to the table. You have a lot to think about and the last thing you want to do is lead Spencer on if you aren’t sure. He deserves better than that.

 The conversation over breakfast is nice. Nothing too heavy or serious. The three of you are just talking about your lives. Morgan asks you what it’s like to be famous. You ask him and Spencer what it’s like to be in the FBI. You realize just how different your career paths are. The only thing you can relate to is travelling. Neither Spencer nor Morgan have family in the area, but they mention how hard it is for Hotch and JJ.

 “That I can understand. The travelling, I mean. Of course, I travel to perform, not to track down killers.” The room is quiet for a few minutes as you think about what to say. Morgan and Reid being profilers know you haven’t finished your thought, so they give you the time to think it over.

 “Thank you.” You say it softly, but firmly at the same time. This is the first time you’ve seen either of them look surprised.

 “Wh- for what?” It’s Morgan who speaks up. Spencer has a familiar expression on his face. It’s the same look he got when you asked his opinion for coffee shops and movies.

 “For everything. For protecting me. For catching bad guys. For giving up so much to do this job. You two, and the rest of your team, you all sacrifice so much to keep people safe. I mean, I’m sure the people you save and the families you give closure to are grateful, and you deserve that. But, you also deserve to have everyone be thankful for what you do. You get into the minds of these people. It must be exhausting to have to think like that all the time. I’m barely dealing with it now and it’s only be on my mind for 2 days! I just can’t even fathom the number of people you have saved, people that you’ve never even met, by doing this. So, thank you. For being strong enough to do it. For being you.”

 You spoke every word with every ounce of sincerity you could muster up. You were looking between them as you said it. The shock on Morgan’s face slowly morphed into a small smile. Spencer’s expression didn’t change, but somehow looked more sincere when you were done.

 Neither one of them knew what to say. Morgan rose from his chair to pull you into a hug. Patting you on the back, he uttered a soft thank you before saying he should get back to the office to help the rest of the team. You locked the door behind him, turning to see Spencer staring at you from the table.

 “Spence? Are you okay?” You were nervous that your impromptu speech made him uncomfortable. He rose from the table, slowly making his way across the room to you.

 “I’m, I, I just… that was… thank you. You amaze me.” He barely says the words, practically breathing them into existence. You reach for his hand, squeezing it.

 “I meant every single word. Promise.” There is nothing more you want to do than kiss him right now, but all you can hear in your head is Spencer talking about transference. You hug him quickly before pulling back again. Without some distance between the two of you, you won’t be able to control yourself. “Do you want to go to another café today? Or somewhere with a piano so I can finally see you play?”

 “We can do what you want today. You let me pick the café and the show yesterday, so it’s only fair.”  You grin, knowing exactly where you want to take him.

 The two of you get ready in near silence after that. Both of you want to calm down a bit before spending another day together. After you’ve both showered and changed, you drag Spencer down to the SUV. The weather outside is perfect for where you want to go, but the park is just far enough away that you want to drive. You pull up directions on your phone, hiding the address from him. Spencer protests the entire time. He keeps mumbling about how he would know how to get there if you just told him where you were going. Then something about how mobile phones are a distraction, so it would be safer for him to drive anyway.

 You just let him ramble on about the many DC streets. Your grip on the wheel tightens when he starts listing off statistics about car accidents.

 “More than 38,000 people die every year in crashes on U.S. roadways. The U.S. traffic fatality rate is actually 12.4 deaths per 100,000 inhabitants. An additional 4.4 million are injured seriously enough to require medical attention. Road crashes are the leading cause of death in the U.S. for people aged 1-54.” With every passing word, your knuckles get whiter, your heartbeat gets faster, and your breaths get shorter. Spencer is too caught up in reciting the statistics to realize anything is wrong until he turns to look at you, his next sentence dying on his tongue. “Seatbelts reduce the risk of dying by…” His brow furrows as he takes in your appearance.

 “By what Spence? Don’t leave me hanging?” You try to joke with him to calm yourself down, but he obviously sees right through it.

 “45%.” He continues before you can even comprehend the number. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

 “Nothing. I’m totally fine. 100% A-Okay.” You try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down. Having arrived at your destination, you pull into a parking spot.

 “Y/N, talk to me. What is it?” You take a steadying breath as you turn to face him. Honestly, you are embarrassed more than anything else. You were the one who decided you had to drive.

 “Spence, really it’s not a big deal. I just get nervous driving sometimes. I don’t have to do it a lot, and I’ve never felt like I was particularly good at it. It doesn’t matter though, we’re here.” You move to get out of the car, but Spencer reaches across the car to stop you. His face is only inches from yours as the realization dawns on him.

 “And I was rambling on about how dangerous driving is.” He says it more to himself than to you. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you stop me? I really need to learn how to shut up. I just get so caught up in the statistics-“ “Spencer. I love when you ramble. I’ve already told you how calming it is… normally. I’m fine, I promise. You just have to drive us back to the hotel later. Deal?”

 “Deal.” You’re both smiling as you get out of the car to walk around the park you brought him to. He doesn’t ask why you picked this place and you don’t offer up a reason. He’ll figure it out soon enough. You talk about random things from childhood as you lazily stroll through the trees. There’s something so calming about wandering through so many trees when you know you’re in the middle of a bustling city.

 Before long, the two of you have crossed the park. A few feet away stands an upright piano in front of a park bench. You glance at Spencer as he looks at the piano, realization gracing his features as he discovers why you chose this particular park. You beckon for him to sit down next to you, asking him to play you a song.

 He blushes as you whisper pretty please in his ear. The cherry on top does him in. Soon enough, you are hearing the beginning notes of Bach’s Prelude in C. You just sit and listen, watching his fingers gracefully move above the keys. He’s not the most passionate of piano players. You can practically see the gears turning in his brain as he moves his hands efficiently across the instrument, as if he really is thinking about the math behind it all. Still, you lose yourself in the music, swaying lightly. You find yourself leaning on his shoulder, closing your eyes as you think about everything you’ve been feeling.

 You studied music for a few years when you were young. That’s how you started writing, with lessons to learn to play both the guitar and the piano. You took to the guitar more than the piano, but you remember learning about the emotion behind every classical piece you were taught to play. You can’t help but think back to those lessons as you listen to Spencer. This song is always reaching forward, yearning for the next note. It plays into the idea that life is simple and pure. Even good at times. But there is something lurking just below the surface. It’s weirdly fitting of your current situation, but you choose to just be glad he chose the major over the minor.

 You feel the breeze in your hair as Spencer finishes the song. For a few moments, the two of you sit listening to the leaves rustling in the wind. Eventually, you look around the park once it is quiet again. It’s mostly empty given that it’s 2 pm on a Tuesday, so there aren’t many people around to witness this moment. You slip your phone on the piano to record before you take over, playing that all too familiar melody that reminds you of Spencer. Neither of you say anything as you let the music and your emotions guide you through the song. You can tell it’s not perfect, but it just feels right.

 After that, you and Spencer brainstorm lyrics for Rossi’s song for another few hours. The park begins to fill up as school lets out and the workday ends. A few fans recognize you, asking for pictures. After a particularly strong gust of wind, Spencer drapes his cardigan over you as you walk back toward the car, both of you blissfully unaware of the figure watching you from behind the trees.

 --

  The next few days pass in much the same fashion. Spencer takes calls about the case, trying to narrow down the massive list of crew members on your tour. You and he work on lyrics for Rossi’s song, as well as JJ’s. She’s just so pretty, the words flow right out of you. You can tell Spencer agrees. You believe him as he swears up and down that the two of them are just friends, but you can’t help teasing him just a bit.

 “Honestly, it would be weirder if you didn’t think she was pretty. The woman looks as if she were sculpted by Michelangelo himself. A living embodiment of Aphrodite.” He nods in agreement, a faint blush on his cheeks.

 --

 No matter how much you try, you just cannot come up with anymore good lyrics for Spencer’s song. It could be that he is sitting right next to you all the time and knows the song is for him that’s causing the writer’s block, but it’s still frustrating.

 One night, he’s working through the case file for the third time in a row when you interrupt his thoughts with a seemingly random question.

 “Spence, can you tell me a story?” He looks up at you, brow furrowed and eyes confused. “I just need inspiration for the lyrics. Everything I come up with sucks.” You pout until he finally gives in. “Yay! It can be anything, even a memory. Just make it overwhelmingly happy.”

 Spencer stops looking through the file as he thinks back on his life experiences for an overwhelmingly happy memory. The faces of his team members instantly flood his mind as he sorts through the many good times they’ve had. He keeps circling back to one event, ultimately deciding it is happy enough to fit your standards.

 “This is actually the story of JJ’s wedding.” You lean forward, a wedding story could be just what the doctor ordered. “Will wanted to marry her for a while, but she was hesitant. She said everything was perfect as it was, she didn’t feel the need to change anything.” You were honestly a little confused as to where the happiness was at this point, but you let him continue anyway. You could listen to this man talk for days on end without complaint.

 “We ended up working a case with Will. It was a bank robbery turned hostage situation. It was a rough case for all of us; bombs, secret partners, kids at risk. I won’t bore you with the details,” he chuckles at your thankful expression, “but it all worked out in the end. Will, he could’ve died. When JJ went to see him in the hospital, she told him to ask her again. She wanted to get married then and there in the hospital chapel. Will wanted to wait until he was actually out of the hospital though, and not wearing a hospital gown.” You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of loving someone so much, you were instantly ready to marry them.

 “Rossi, he overheard everything. So, he started planning. He called JJ’s mom, told her to fly in and to bring her wedding dress. We threw her a surprise wedding the next day. It was such a beautiful moment, to have such a joyous event after everything that we had been through. JJ looked wonderstruck as her mom walked her down the aisle. The lights were sparkling. It was enchanting.” He spoke with such awe about the whole event. He told you stories about doing magic for Henry and Jack, who you came to know as Hotch’s son. It was so easy for you to picture the fairy lights and purple flowers. The team seemed like such a close-knit family, it only made sense that they would share this memory.

 The chorus of the song hit you like a ton of bricks. You didn’t even warn Spencer as you jumped from the couch and ran to the piano. He followed behind you, curious to see what would happen. He watched with wonder as you placed your phone to record on top of the piano and started playing the family melody you first hummed while thinking about him.

 “This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go. I’m wonderstruck, blushing all the way home. I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew, I was enchanted to meet you.” The verses didn’t pour out of you in quite the same way, but the general storyline of the song came to you in the next few minutes. You rushed to get it all out, speaking directly into the phone.

 “The first verse can be about feeling out of place in a room, faking laughter, forcing smiles. Then it all changes when she sees him. It’s as if they have a conversation with only their eyes as they float across the room to each other. Then the chorus. The second verse can be about her wondering if he felt it to. 2 am who do you love? Chorus again. Then the bridge can be about hoping that the one night wasn’t it for them. That she’ll see him again and hoping he isn’t already in love or with someone.” You’re so pleased with the song idea, you don’t notice the shifting expressions on Spencer’s face. After your explanation, you turn to him, the biggest smile he’s seen yet on your face.

 “What do you think?” He’s so shocked he doesn’t know how to respond. After a moment of silence, your face begins to fall. You can’t stop your brain from thinking the worst.

 He must hate it. Oh god, he’s just trying to find a way to let me down easy. Why do I have to be so stupid? Sure, go ahead. Write a love song about the man who’s sitting next to you. That won’t be weird at all. Oh god, oh god…

 Suddenly, Spencer is pulling you into a tight hug. “It’s beautiful. It will make a wonderful song.” He’s whispering in your ear. The feeling of his lips brushing against you is too much. Everything you’ve been pushing back for the past few days comes roaring to the surface. You can’t stop yourself.

 You pull back slowly, only to pull his face to yours so rapidly you’re surprised you didn’t get whiplash. In less than an instant, his lips are moving gracefully against yours. His hands slide down your body to your waist as he pulls you even closer to him. Your arms move up around his neck, your fingers running through his hair. The hunger and passion is slowly taken over by the need for oxygen, the two of you separating just enough to pull air into your lungs.

 He kisses your forehead, and you kiss his nose. A few minutes later, and you’re still standing there with your heads pressed together, arms wrapped around each other. Every so often, one of you places a light kiss on the others mouth, just to make sure this is real.

 “I know what you’re thinking.” You are still out of breath from kissing him, but you can just tell his mind is moving a mile a minute.

 “I’m not sure you do.” He sounds nervous.

 “I think I might surprise you.” You can’t help but tease him a little before continuing. “You think its all transference. That I only think I like you because you’re here to protect me. Some sort of white knight bullshit.” You can’t stop yourself from sounding mildly annoyed about it. Although, the look of shock on his face helps. “I heard what you said to Morgan.” He sighs before moving to pull back.

 “No, Spence. Listen to me. I heard what you said to Morgan.” You wait for him to follow your train of thought back a few days.

 “But that was four days ago?” He looks more confused than ever.

 “I know. I wanted to make sure that what I feel is real. I didn’t want to lead you on if I might not actually want this. But I do. More than I’ve ever wanted anything before. Spencer, you are a light in my life and not just because you’re here to make sure I don’t get murdered. Although that certainly doesn’t hurt. I feel like I can tell you anything and you won’t judge me for it. That I can truly be myself without worry of letting you down.”

 “Y/N you could never let me down. I just don’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything. I don’t want you to regret me.” He looks crestfallen.

 “Spencer Reid.”  You move your hands to his cheeks to gently push his head up to make eye contact. “I could never regret a single moment spent with you. I have loved every single one. I loved watching you listen to the songs about your friends. I loved listening to you talk about things you love, like Doctor Who and statistics. I loved sitting next to while you played piano. I loved talking to you about anything and everything. Spencer, I love how I feel when I’m with you and I know for a fact I would feel the same way if I met you walking down the street.”

 “Y/N” the way he says your name is music to your ears. “I love how I feel when I’m with you too. I loved listening to you sing about my friends, capturing the essence of who they are. I loved watching you experience the things I have grown so accustomed to doing. I loved the feeling of you leaning on my shoulder while I played Bach. I loved hearing you come up with an entire storyline for one song in a matter of minutes just based on one story. I have loved every single second I have been with you since I first saw you 7 days, 2 hours, and 32 minutes ago. Even if I didn’t say a word to you until after you woke up in the hospital.”

 The two of you laugh as you pull him to the couch to cuddle. You put on more Doctor Who, sitting with your legs across his lap and playing with his hands. It’s nice to just be close to him without having to worry. You find yourself getting wrapped up in the show. Spencer is quieter this time. You think he might have something on his mind, but you decide to wait for him to share. Between the third and fourth episode, he speaks up.

 “Y/N, are you and Ryan… are you together?” You look up to see a nervous expression once again on his face.

 “Ryan who?” You are genuinely confused as to who he could even be talking about.

 “Ryan Moore, the sound booth guy.” You look even more confused than before.

 “Not even a little bit. I politely declined his offer to take me out. Is that what’s been bugging you for the last three episodes?” You smile at his pout.

 “Maybe. You just seemed so happy when you mentioned that he asked you out. You were practically glowing with how big your smile was.”

“Spence, I was happy because I could actually help you with the case. I only have eyes for one guy.” You shift to straddle his lap.

 “Yeah, who’s that?” He pulls you even closer.

 “Matt Smith” You say it with the best deadpan expression you can manage in the circumstances.

 “Wow, your standards must be pretty low to settle for the 11th doctor. He’s not even in the top three best doctors!” He plays along with your joke, although he doesn’t have to act incredulous sat you preference for the 11th doctor.

 “Well, my number one doctor isn’t really on TV.” You bite your lip, leaning in until you connect your mouth to his.

 Right as you’re both about to take it one step further, your phone rings. “Fuck.” The word is barely a whisper leaving your mouth as you pull back from Spencer trying to catch your breath.

 “Hello?” you don’t hear anything on the other end of the phone. “Hello? Anyone there? Hello?” Suddenly the line goes dead. You turn to Spencer. “Well, that was weird.” Spencer frantically moves you off his lap as he stands up, taking out his phone. Without telling you anything, he is frantically dialing a number, mumbling under his breath.

 “Garcia! I need to you to figure out who just called Y/N’s phone.” He waits a minute, presumably listening to her reply. “Yes, it just rang and when she answered nobody said anything. Thank you.” He hangs up, swiftly moving back to the couch to pull you into a hug.

 “What just happened?” You can feel your heartrate speeding up.

 “It might be nothing, but that might have been the unsub. Garcia is tracking down the number that made the call right now. If it’s possible to figure out, she’ll have it done by morning.” He rubs calming circles on your hip with his thumb. “Why don’t you go to sleep? Try to get some rest?” You nod, rising from the couch.

 “Spence, will you lay with me?” Your voice is small and scared as you ask the question. He simply nods, both of you changing into pajamas before meeting in the bedroom to lay down. You snuggle up close to him, trying to breathe in the same pattern as him until you fall asleep.

 --

 When you wake up, you can hear Spencer in the living room, talking on his phone. You want nothing more than to go back to sleep, but not if you can’t cuddle with Spencer while you do it. Throwing the covers off of you, you get up so you can actually see Spencer. He’s got his back to you when you open the door, so you sneak up behind him. He jumps a little with a surprised gasp when you wrap your arms around his middle.

 “What? Oh, uh… I’m fi-fine. Everything’s fine. I was just surprised.” He spins around to hug you, giving you a slight glare. “By, um, a beetle. Yeah, there was a beetle.” The lie is so obvious you can’t help but laugh as you bury your head into his chest.

 A few minutes later, he finally hangs up. “What did they find out about the phone call?” You mumble the question into the fabric of his cardigan.

 “Less than we were hoping for. It was a prepaid cell, so Garcia can’t trace it back to the owner.” You squeeze him tighter, glad to have him with you through all of this. After a few minutes of standing with him, you reluctantly pull back.

 “Well, we should get to work. These songs are not going to write themselves!”

 You and Spencer retreat to different parts of the suite to get ready for the day. As much as you would love to jump his bones, it doesn’t feel right to take up his time with that when he could be working. At least if you were working on songs together it was part of the cover.

 You ultimately decide to just sit in the park across from the hotel today. Normally, you wouldn’t even leave your room at this point in the writing process. You just don’t completely trust yourself to be alone with him at the moment. At least in public you can control yourself a little bit. Yet, the many people walking around the park do nothing to stop you from grabbing Spencer’s hand and playing with his fingers while thinking particularly hard about a certain lyric.

 A bright flash of light draws you out of your reverie. You already know how the picture is going to look. You are laying across a blanket, knees in the air. Spencer is sitting beside you, reading messages from the team on his phone. His other hand is still between yours as you run your fingers over his knuckles. You are absolutely sure there is look of complete adoration on your face. You can’t bring yourself to care that the paparazzi took the picture. You have nothing to hide.

 After the shock of the bright light fades, you notice a familiar face behind the few photographers in front of you. The shock of seeing someone for a second time floods your brain while you try to remember the profile Hotch told you that very first night. Without thinking too hard, you fling yourself into a sitting position. You gather everything you brought with you to the park, dragging Spencer along with you. He clearly doesn’t understand the shift in your behavior, but he’d gladly follow you anywhere.

 It’s not until you reach your room that you look at him. He can see the fear in your eyes before you even open your mouth. “Baby, what is it? What happened?” He begins recalling everything from the moment the first flash went off, trying to figure out what made you so scared.

 “I saw him.” You can barely hear yourself over the sound of your heart beating in your chest. “I saw the unsub. I mean, I think I did. He held the door open for us this morning when we left the hotel, and then he was in the park when the paparazzi were taking pictures. Hotch… he said to tell you if I saw anyone more than once in a day.” The words escape your lips in a hurry, trying to keep up with your flying thoughts.

 “Okay, breathe. I’m right here. I’m going to call the team. Did you recognize him from anywhere else?” You try to picture the face in your mind, and suddenly you are seeing him everywhere. In the coffee shop that very first day. Behind the trees in the park with the piano. If you and Spencer were there, so was he. Just, normally you only caught a glimpse of him for a second. Definitely not twice in one day.

 You rush to tell Spencer what you’re remembering. At this point, you don’t even know if it’s true. Maybe your mind is playing tricks on you. Just filling in this man’s face on other people’s bodies to fit the story that he is the one behind it all. Nonetheless, you give him the description of who you saw. White, probably 35ish, brown hair. You didn’t see his eyes, but they looked evil. The expression on his face just screamed serial killer. Maybe that’s in your head too. Who knows?

 “I know I’ve seen that face before, I just can’t remember where. God, I’m useless. This man is hurting people and I can’t even remember where I’ve seen him before. Think. Think. THINK.” You’ve started pacing the room, trying to figure out who it could be. Spencer doesn’t say anything else to you until he’s finished the phone call. Even then, he’s more so humming and shushing you than really talking. He pulls you into a hug, trying to calm you down yet again.

 “Y/N. You are anything but useless. You noticed he was there. That’s a step in the right direction. We are going to find him, and he is going to go to jail for a very long time.” Somewhere, deep inside, you knew Spencer couldn’t guarantee that, but you also knew it was better for you to listen to him than to force yourself down a rabbit hole you couldn’t dig yourself out of.

 A few calming breaths later, and your asleep on the couch, wrapped up in Spencer’s arms.

 --

 It’s still dark when you open your eyes. You can hear someone moving around, but it’s too dark to see. Spencer isn’t with you on the couch, so it could be him, but something feels wrong. Why would Spencer be up in the middle of the night wandering around in the dark?

 “Spencer?” Everything goes still at the sound of your voice. Yeah, that was not the best move you could’ve made… Before you can say anything else, you are knocked out cold. The sound of a lamp smashing over your head is that last thing you hear.

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