#it just shows up too frequently for it to be a coincidence...

[legendary-69420]

Chapter 17: The WIRED Autocomplete Chaos

(Racing Hearts : VOLUME 2)

Song : "Talk Too Much - COIN" Carlos, Charles, Mark, and Max had all been invited to do the WIRED Autocomplete interview. As they waited for the team to set up the room, the four of them lounged around, dressed sharply for the occasion—except for Mark, who, as usual, was comfortably clad in just a hoodie.

The conversation flowed naturally, with the group tossing jokes and random comments to pass the time.

“Guys,” Max said, pointing between Charles and Carlos, then Mark and himself. “You ever realize we all share the same initial with our teammate?”

“Mark and Max,” Charles mused, smiling a little. “Charles and Carlos.”

Carlos grinned, leaning back in his chair. "It’s like fate or something."

Mark, with a playful grin, teased, “Or it's just alphabetical coincidence, mate.”

The crew signaled for them to take their places, and the boys got up, ready for the interview.

The interview began like any other typical WIRED Autocomplete session, with each racer taking turns answering questions based on what people frequently search about them. They each peeled off the white strips of paper to reveal the questions beneath.

Max went first, then Carlos, followed by Charles, each taking their share of humorous or predictable questions, though Max’s deadpan answers stirred a few laughs. Carlos’ charm was met with some light teasing from Charles, who clearly enjoyed seeing his teammate squirm over personal questions.

Then, it was Mark’s turn.

“Alright, here we go,” Mark said, rubbing his hands together as the board in front of him was presented. He tore off the first strip with a dramatic flair.

“First question,” he began, reading aloud, “‘Who is Mark Spencer…dating?’” His eyebrows shot up, and he glanced at the others.

Charles' mouth twitched into a knowing smirk, eyes locking with Mark's briefly.

“Uh, no one. I’m by myself right now,” Mark said nonchalantly, shrugging as if to play it off. Carlos raised his brows in a teasing manner, but Max chuckled under his breath, clearly amused by the public curiosity.

“Next one,” Mark pulled off another strip. “‘Who is Mark Spencer…married to?’”

Mark widened his eyes, looking mock-offended. “Why is everyone so interested in my love life all of a sudden?” he laughed. “I just said I’m single, alright?” He shook his head, looking at Charles, who was trying to suppress a grin.

“People are getting ahead of themselves,” Charles quipped, his eyes glimmering with amusement.

“Way ahead,” Mark chuckled. “Okay, moving on.”

He peeled off the next strip. “‘Who are Mark Spencer’s…parents?’ Oh, that’s easy. My dad and mom are Alessandro and Isabella Spencer, owners of the Spencer business.” He leaned back, giving a quick grin to the camera. “That’s a freebie.”

Max gave him a playful nudge, whispering, “You’re getting all the serious ones.”

“Not for long,” Mark said, peeling off the next strip. “‘Who is Mark Spencer…’” He paused for comedic effect, then sarcastically answered, “Nobody.”

The guys all burst out laughing, with Max nearly slapping his knee.

“Oh come on, man,” Charles said, smirking. “You’re a little more than nobody.”

Mark winked at him. “I mean, you’re not wrong.”

Mark moved to the next board. “‘What is Mark Spencer’s nationality?’ Oh, that’s simple—I'm from il Bel Paese.” He made an exaggerated Italian gesture with his hands. “Italy.”

Carlos nodded approvingly. “Represent.”

Mark peeled the next strip. “‘What languages can Mark Spencer speak?’ Hmm, I’m fluent in English, Italian, French, Spanish, and German.”

“Show-off,” Max teased.

“What can I say? I like options,” Mark said, winking again, this time at the camera.

Next strip: “‘What is Mark Spencer’s…accent?’” Mark grinned. “Well, I can change my accent depending on who I’m talking to. I can do English, French, Canadian, Italian, Australian, American—whatever feels right at the moment.”

Charles rolled his eyes. “Of course, you’re versatile even with accents.”

Mark grinned, moving on to the next question. “‘What is Mark Spencer’s profession?’” He paused for dramatic effect. “I work as a clown.” The sarcasm was evident in his tone, but the others burst into laughter.

“Accurate,” Max muttered, and Carlos couldn’t help but agree.

“Alright, seriously, though—I’m a racer. You know, the one who drives fast and wins things.” Mark smirked before ripping off the next question.

“‘What movie has Mark Spencer been in?’ Oh, this is recent! I was in the Barbie movie, starred as a Ken. It was my first movie, and I had fun shooting it.”

Charles snorted. “You’re going to milk that for a while, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” Mark winked.

Then came another question. “‘Mark Spencer’s…ring?’” Mark held up his hand, displaying the ring. “You must mean this one. Apparently, fans are more interested in what I wear than my racing, but hey, it’s cool. This is a gift from Melvin, Charles’ nephew.”

Charles gave a small smile, clearly pleased that Mark was proud to wear it.

Mark continued to the next. “‘Mark Spencer…shirtless.’” He paused, raising an eyebrow. “Well, I’m flattered to see this in the top searches related to me.” He suddenly lifted his hoodie up, flashing his abs.

Carlos burst into laughter, Max shook his head, and Charles groaned while laughing. “Seriously?”

“Nobody can resist these bad boys,” Mark said, winking at the camera before pulling his hoodie down.

“Alright, next question,” he said, trying to regain some composure. “‘What does Mark Spencer think of me?’” He chuckled, leaning in toward the camera with a playful smile. “I think you’re a wonderful person with a bright future ahead of you. You’re great. Also…I’m free tonight, so hit me up at 8.”

Charles facepalmed, shaking his head while chuckling, and Carlos nudged Mark’s arm playfully.

The final question: “‘Mark Spencer X F1 racers ship.’” Mark’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “Dude, I knew this was going to show up! These people can’t leave me alone.” He laughed. “One time, I read a ship about me and…Toto. Hilarious.”

The room erupted in laughter, with Charles giving Mark a playful shove as Max and Carlos shook their heads, grinning.

The video ended, but within minutes of it being uploaded, social media was flooded with comments and reactions. Twitter exploded with #MarkSpencerShirtless, and TikTok videos were already circulating with clips of Mark flashing his abs.

“I swear, they’re going to lose their minds over that,” Max muttered as he scrolled through his phone, already seeing the first few posts about the interview.

“You’re never going to hear the end of this,” Charles teased Mark, shaking his head with a smile.

Mark simply leaned back in his chair, grinning. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As soon as the interview hit YouTube, social media exploded, and the comments section was flooded within minutes. Here’s a glimpse of the madness that unfolded:

Top Comments:

@f1fanatic23: "Mark Spencer really said 'nobody' when asked who he is 💀😂. My man needs to stop pretending he's not the hottest driver on the grid!"

@charles_leclerc_stan: "Charles’ reaction when Mark flashed his abs! I think we all felt that moment 😳🔥 #MarkSpencerShirtless #SaveUsCharles"

@max_n_verstappen_fan: "Max trying to keep it together while Mark jokes about being in the Barbie movie. ICONIC. Also, where do I sign up to be a Ken? 😍"

@italian_pride: "Mark flexing his multilingual skills like it's no big deal, and here I am struggling with one language 😩 #Goals"

@spencersimps: "‘Hit me up at 8’ WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS?! I swear this man is a menace 😭 someone stop him before I actually text him lmao"

@charlos_racing_duo: "Wait, how did we never notice the Charles/Carlos and Mark/Max teammate initials thing before?! Mind. Blown. 🧠"

@racequeensam: "Mark casually calling himself a clown but then flashing his abs. Sir, the audacity 👑 #MarkSpencerIsNoClown"

@shipping_f1: "‘Mark Spencer X F1 racers ship’…BRUH. And the fact that he KNOWS about the ships is sending me!!! Not Mark reading about himself and Toto!! 😂😂"

@f1_islife: "Melvin’s ring!! The fact that Charles’ nephew gave him that and Mark wears it with pride, I can’t! 🥺❤️ This man is a softie underneath it all."

Replies to the top comments:

@charles_leclerc_stan: "Right?! Charles was not prepared for that abs reveal. Man was like ‘oh no, not this again’ 😂"

@italian_pride: "And he just casually said ‘Bel Paese’ like it’s nothing! God-tier Italian."

@spencersimps: "If I could hit him up at 8, trust me, I would. Mark, give us a sign!"

@shipping_f1: "Fandom ships are wild but the fact he laughs about them is EVERYTHING. Can’t believe he’s aware of the Toto thing though lmao."

More Reactions:

@f1_gossiphub: “Can we talk about how Mark dropped Melvin’s name like it’s no big deal? That boy is full of surprises 👀”

@redbullracer101: “Max and Mark pretending to be normal during this interview when clearly they’re chaotic kings 😂”

@charles_and_mark4eva: "I’m convinced Charles and Mark’s interactions have so much more going on behind the scenes. That little look after the 'hit me up' comment 👀👀"

@f1_memes4life: “Mark calling himself a Ken in Barbie was the best part, hands down. But the internet isn't ready for this man’s humor.”

By the time the interview had been live for just an hour, the trending topics were filled with variations of #MarkSpencerShirtless, #WIREDInterview, #F1Chaos, and, of course, #HitMeUpAt8. Fans were losing their minds, and even the other drivers were joining in the fun by commenting on the video, fueling the chaos.

Lando Norris (@lando_norris): "@MarkSpencer I'm free tonight too. Hit me up at 8 😂 #thirdwheel"

Daniel Ricciardo (@daniel_ricciardo): “Ken Spencer? More like Ken’s better-looking brother. #BarbieKing #MarkSpencer”

@WiredOfficial: “Interviewing @MarkSpencer was an experience in itself. Did we expect abs? No. Did we love it? Absolutely.” --- (This phase covers 2 chapters chapter 17 and chapter 18!)

(Dividers by @enchanthings and @anemichorizon2)

[ibrokeeverything]

I feel like there's got to be some kind of symbolism behind all the no smoking signs, areas, and comments from other people in cowboy bebop, but I'm too stupid to figure it out right now...

[vintage-fuzz]

Honestly, viewing Ford & Fiddleford’s relationship from the perspective of a Gravity Falls citizen is kind of crazy because, it’s the early 80s & this elusive, out-of-towner scientist has been working & living by himself in a secluded woodland cabin for like 6 years & then, all of a sudden, this southern scientist guy joins him &, on occasion, they start showing up in town together, going to the carnival with one another & eating at the diner together amongst various other activities.

As the months pass, the cracks in their relationship begin to show, even to outsiders, all the while coinciding with even stranger occurrences than normal. Unexplained beams of light emanate from their shared cabin, gravity’s pull on the Earth lessens, causing people & objects to float in midair at random intervals & the scientists themselves seem visibly sleep-deprived, on-edge & paranoid.

This escalates to them having a very public & highly volatile argument at the local diner they frequent, in front of numerous other patrons. They’d see Ford storm off & curse Fiddleford under his breath, tossing a ring into the lake. They’d see Fiddleford’s desperation & fear, as he hopelessly urges Ford to accept the thesis (which, to them, just look like various non-specific papers) he painstakingly put together for him, pleading with him to abandon their project.

Then, with no warning, the southerner just disappears, only to reemerge years, if not decades later as a crazed recluse. The main scientist, however, he’s still showing up in town, but this time around he’s different somehow, he’s wild, unhinged & downright masochistic. He wreaks havoc on the townsfolk & upon himself as he harasses law enforcement, strips naked, eats live spiders, & even becomes an early adopter of the “tramp stamp” &, is overall, a general nuisance.

After causing a bit of chaos, he just straight up disappears for a few weeks until he announces that now he gives guided tours of his lab & has a mullet. Nearly all of this happens before the Society of the Blind Eye has properly formed too, so unless Fiddleford was just going on mass mind erasing sprees in his spare time, there’s no way people forgot about this, at least not immediately.

In conclusion, all of this just looks like an extremely messy breakup, which, is partially true, lmao.

[under-lore]

What could Sans find out about Flowey ?

By finishing a neutral route over and over again multiple times, Flowey has some unique dialogues in which he mentions various trivia or shares his thoughts on some of the other characters.

One such character is Sans, who Flowey notably gives us a warning about.

However, the way he words that warning feels a little intriguing :

While Sans is generally a very perceptive character who is often capable of making pretty good guesses from limited information, Flowey makes it rather obvious that he is speaking from experience rather than simply making a general comment about Sans' observation skills.

But a question that isn't brought up very often is, what was it exactly that Sans would frequently "find out" about Flowey to warrant this warning ? And how ?

While the question may seem unanswerable at first due to Flowey not giving us any specifics whatsoever, there are a few details scattered throughout the game which may allow us to deduce our way towards what was most likely the intended answer.

First, we know what solution Flowey ended up settling with in order to deal with whatever that issue was : Simply avoiding Sans.

In any given timeline, Flowey took the habit of avoiding to be seen by or around Sans at any point, unless he specifically had something in mind that required him to do so. (such as in the pacifist ending) As a general rule of thumb, he would avoid Sans altogether as much as possible.

However, even with that effort on Flowey's side, a quick mention of a talking flower from Papyrus is already enough to seemingly get Sans at least a little suspicious that something may be up with that.

This is our second clue : The fact that it took Sans so little information for him to get suspicious of what Papyrus told him about a flower.

Our last clue is the few words we hear from Sans after he sees and hears Flowey at the end of the pacifist route :

In order to find out what to make of those clues, we need to introduce a fourth element : Sans' scientific background.

Luckily, none of the more complicated or speculative nuances of that side of his character are required here, all that we need is to highlight his somewhat-hidden friendship with Alphys.

She knows him well enough to call his jokes in advance :

Or here, the game more obviously points out that these two seem surprisingly friendly.

Sans tries to play it off, but it is clear they know a lot more about each other than seems at first glance.

But how much exactly ?

Well...

To go back to our main point, if one were to call Papyrus' phone in front of Alphys' lab, the conversation between the skeletons brothers would eventually deviate towards the question of wether or not Alphys is hiding dogs inside of her lab.

To which Sans answers, winking :

If it had just been this one joke, it may have been a coincidence, but the game doubles down on this exact same implication if you call Papyrus from within the lab as well, showing that this connection between Sans and Endogeny was absolutely intentional :

While the determination experiments were sorely Alphys' entreprise, it appears that Sans was at least made aware of the way they ended up playing out.

We cannot affirm with certainty how much detail exactly Sans has regarding the experiments, but if he is aware for the dogs and possibly even involved in dealing with them (as he had the dog food bag in his room), then he most definitely would also know about the vessel too. It was the main goal, after all.

This vessel had a few particularities.

First, it was a golden flower, the flower from the outside world, chosen for symbolic reasons.

But second, that specific golden flower was chosen because it was different from the rest.

It was at the center of the garden, it had grown before all the others, those were the ones mentioned by Alphys in her entries. But there was one more specificity which she omitted to bring up :

Golden flowers in Undertale are a species of flowers which has 5 petals.

But our "vessel" had a mutation, resulting in an extra 6th petal.

A design choice in part, perhaps, but one that takes a very real in-world importance within this context.

Adding to this that, from the view of the current timeline iteration, the vessel seems to have suddenly vanished one day and...

Since it is likely for Sans to have been aware of all of this, now, it makes a lot of sense that the mere idea of a new mysterious talking flower that says strange things showing up out of nowhere would immediately put him on high alert. A potential connection with the missing vessel is easy to make.

Actually, now that we have this context, even Alphys seems to make the same connection as well after hearing Papyus mentioning a talking flower just before Flowey arrives.

But most of all, it now feels incredibly clear why Flowey needs to avoid being seen by Sans so much.

His entire appearance, and particularly his obvious extra 6th petal, are all dead giveaways of his origins.

Could Sans, who is skilled enough at analysing faces to tell the difference between the face of someone that has died 9 or 10 times in a row, really miss out on such blaring evidence ?

Of course not.

Flowey might as well have written "i am the vessel" on his face with a marker as far as Sans is concerned.

Chances are that merely seeing Flowey even once would be all it takes for Sans to be practically certain that Flowey must be the former vessel.

Not only that, but given that those experiments were all about determination, the so called "resolve to change fate", Flowey would also immediately be considered extremely likely to be the anomaly, too.

This is what we see in this scene :

Not only does Sans get to see Flowey here, but the speech that Flowey makes during this scene also provides him with definitive evidence that Flowey really was the "anomaly" he had been worried about, as his psychological profile matches extremely well with the one Sans shows us to have built for the anomaly in a genocide route. But, it also shows him that Flowey has, for now at least, lost his anomalous time powers to Frisk, and is thus struggling to keep them in his "game".

This suggests that for now, Frisk actually still has the advantage, and that despite all those crazy speeches, without his reset powers, that weirdo has got nothing on them.

But this is all later on in the story.

During Flowey's earlier RESETs, being seen by Sans, even once, quickly becomes a major pain for Flowey in every timeline iteration in which it happens.

At best, he might get "pranked accross time and space" a number of times. At worst, Flowey might have no choice but to reset and start all over again on whatever he was aiming to do.

Except this time around, without letting the smiley trashbag learn ANYTHING about him.

[rosalinrabbit]

Dealer

Blue Banisters Tracklist

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: Mentions of illegal activity and trafficking and generally creepy behavior, arguing, boss/employee relationship, implied age gap, smut, sex, slight BDSM vibes, dom!Hotch x sub!Reader, spanking, degradation, praise, slight choking, oral sex, penetrative sex. 

Summary: You’ve been working at the BAU for nearly two years ever since you crossed Aaron Hotchner’s path while working undercover. When you’re asked to go undercover again to solve a case, you take a huge risk and disobey Hotch. Unfortunately for you, he thinks you need to be punished. 

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: I may not have time for kinktober but I do have time for a lil halloween themed aaron fanfic

You are in charge of your own media consumption. Please read responsibly.

Do not translate or re-upload any of my work. Works are only cross-posted on AO3.

You met Aaron Hotchner in the middle of a particularly cold November. A ridiculous coincidence, really. You’d heard of him, even sent in a recent application to work for his team, though had some doubts you’d ever hear back. The BAU was a tough, tight-knit group. And even though you were working a case, you wondered if this might make the entirely wrong impression.

You worked for the FBI, in the Human Trafficking division. You’d been undercover for a little over two months, posing as a young grad student with a shady second job at a club. You weren’t a stripper, but you were dressed in a black latex bunny girl suit, complete with faux sleeve cuffs, a ribbon tied in a bow at your hip, a collar, a set of ears, and a fluffy white tail. Your job description, according to your boss, was a waitress. And you weren’t the only undercover agent at the club.

It had been a strange hotbed of criminal activity. Clearly enough so that the FBI had to show up for one reason or another. The outfit was too tight to conceal a proper weapon, all you had on you was a wire and a knife. You had to rely a lot on the others staking out the club, and you noticed one of them had just gotten distracted despite one of your targets acting quite shifty in the corner. This particular target you despised the most. You could tell something was very off about him, and as you were fed details of the case and studied the frequent customers at the bar, you were quite sure it was him. The guy wasn’t a seller, but you were quite sure he was buying. The girls he bought never showed up again.

That was when you noticed Aaron Hotchner enter the club with two other members of the BAU. Your eyes flickered between them and your target. They weren’t looking at him. They made the same mistake you initially made, focusing on the wrong guy. You’d spent enough time working the case to know, but your superior had never mentioned the BAU involving themselves in this particular case. 

Taking a deep breath and plastering on your customer service smile, you walked over to Agent Hotchner holding the tray of champagne glasses.

“First time here?” You asked, tilting your head to the side as you offered them drinks.

One of the other agents, a very muscular-looking black man, answered for the three of them. “Yeah, mind if we ask you a few questions?”

You smiled. “Of course. How may I assist you?” You batted your lashes, unwilling to give up your ruse even in the presence of other federal agents. You’d worked too hard for this.

“Are there any men that frequent this club, ones that you and the other workers know to stay away from?” 

“Most of the repeat customers are, surprisingly, not too bad. But there’s a few lingering around that the workers know to be careful of.” You watched your target from the corner of your eye, making sure not to look too long to tip anyone off. You watched him eye a girl who’s friend had just left to go to the bathroom. “I can point out a few, but I think you can usually tell just by looking at them,” you shrugged, putting a hand on your barely concealed hip. You carefully caught the eye of the man you were speaking to and pointedly glanced to the corner where the most suspicious regulars tended to gather. 

“That’s all, ma’am. Thank you for your time.”

You smiled at the three of them, watching closely as they moved toward the wrong man. Just your luck, your target stood up at the same time as the other guy did, and they both went in opposite directions.

Attempting to casually wade through the busy crowd, you couldn’t seem to catch the eye of your undercover partner, but you saw the target talk to the girl sitting alone before luring her towards the back. Quickly, you managed to pass the tray to another worker before looking back, catching agent Hotchner staring at you. You wished there was a way to signal that you could use his help, but you didn’t know him. Instead, you mouthed the words “wrong guy” to him across the crowded floor, music blaring in your ears as you quickly turned and tried to quietly follow the man through the back of the club. 

That night, you had managed to not only get a recording of the man talking to your “boss” about their second business, but also witnessed him inject the girl in the backroom with a tranquilizer. After finally retrieving your handcuffs and pistol from your partner, you both managed to tackle and arrest the two men, and requested backup to gather evidence at the club and pick up the handcuffed men.

It must have been a ridiculous sight, you in a bunny girl costume with your gun now holstered to your hip once more, holding the handcuffed arms of a criminal behind his back in a cold dark alley. When you finally got them loaded into the cars, you turned to see Aaron Hotchner watching you. 

“Hello again,” you greeted a bit nervously, no longer playing a character and now just an FBI agent standing in hardly any clothes in front of a higher-ranking agent. “I’m Agent y/l/n, FBI, Human Trafficking division,” you held your hand out. 

He shook it. “Agent Aaron Hotchner. Unit Chief of the BAU. You tried to warn me back there,” he commented, taking off his own jacket and coming closer to offer it to you. You gave him an unsure look, and he returned it with an insistent one. 

“Thank you, sir. And yes, but it’s hard to do much of that in a busy nightclub,” you shrugged, putting the jacket over yourself and finally getting both relief from the cold and from the embarrassment of showing so much leg and cleavage in front of the man you really wanted to work under. For! Work for. Although, he was quite tall. And quite handsome.

“Still. You did a good job. It seemed like you caught something we didn’t. How could you tell we were looking into the wrong guy?”

“I’ve been working on this case for over two months. At first, I had the same assumption. But something from the profile was missing. I watched them both, and eventually came to the conclusion that I got it wrong the first time.”

“What I’m really asking is how you knew who we were going in there for.”

“Oh, I just watched you. I knew when you came in. He was the first guy your gaze really stuck on.” 

His expression showed the slightest hint of amusement. “Are you interested in a job?”

You smiled. “Very much so.”

“Send me your resume.”

“It’s already submitted for the open position, sir.”

He nodded, giving you a strange look.

“I expect I’ll see you again soon, then,” and he started to walk away.

“Wait, your jacket!”

“You can return it later. At your interview.”

That night was almost two years ago. The two of you had been a nearly inseparable pair ever since. You knew how to read him across a room, and he knew how to read you. You figured that was why he always had you with him. 

Just two months in, he told you he might be leaving the BAU after getting suspended for two weeks. His wife didn’t want him to work anymore. Said that his job isn’t who he is, just what he does.

You seemed to shock him by looking at him like you always did when the two of you spoke. As if the entire thing was obvious.

“I don’t think she can possibly understand how much we care about what we do. How what we do is who we are, and we know not everyone can do it. You’re one of the best, Hotch. You can be a good father and a good agent. Unfortunately, whether you can be a good husband and a good agent? That is an opinion left up to your wife. Her definition is what really matters, not yours.” 

You’d stood up from the chair across from his desk then, trying to hide the distress at the possibility of rarely seeing and never working with him again.

“I.. The team” you quickly corrected yourself, “doesn’t want you to leave. But I think what matters the most is what you want, Hotch. You only get one life. This is your career. This is the path you chose.” You took a deep breath. “Don’t let her choose for you, but you can choose her. We would all understand.”

He stayed. And your relationship had slowly taken a much more tense and strange turn. You were in-sync. Knew each other too well. Your heart skipped a beat when he looked at you. You both noticed the lingering looks, but never said a thing about it. You did everything you always do, together. Especially since his divorce. You shared rooms, meals, notes, just about everything. Your leg was always slightly pressed against his when sitting next to him. His arm was often placed behind you when the two of you were walking somewhere in an unknown environment. Close. You were close.

Yet your relationship had never crossed the line. The meals were usually take out, the rooms had two beds, the time spent together was all under the guise of “work.” Just work. 

And nearly two years since that first fateful night that you met Aaron Hotchner, you were back in the stupid bunny suit.

It was all Derek’s fault, you were convinced. It was his idea, and Emily, Penelope, and Derek all thought it would be funny to put you back in the costume that started it all.

You had to go undercover at a club during a Halloween party. This unsub was a freak, and everyone dressed in costumes certainly didn’t ease your nerves about the whole thing.

Crossing your arms with a huff as you exited the bathroom at the local precinct, you glared at Derek who had picked out the costume. Spencer turned around from whatever he was working on and nearly spit out his water and started coughing.

“Is this necessary? I can’t even carry a gun on me…”

“You wore it undercover before. Come on, Bunny!” You frowned at the use of your nickname. The one you got from the night you first met Derek, Hotch, and Rossi.  “I thought you’d be comfortable in a familiar outfit,” he teased. “Besides, we need you to fit the victimology. Young attractive girls having fun at parties.” While this would certainly be considered harassment in any other unit with any other team, you adored Derek. You couldn’t help but smirk a little bit at his comment.

“You’re such a jerk,” you said unseriously. “Besides, I was pretending to be a worker back then. I couldn’t say no to my boss. You, however, aren’t my boss.”

It was then that Emily and Hotch came into the room, and Emily’s jaw dropped.

“Why do you look so hot!” she exclaimed, dramatically setting the files down on the table in front of her.

“This is the outfit Derek picked for me,” you sighed. “Look familiar?” You did a dramatic turn in front of them, trying to keep your eyes off of Hotch in embarrassment.

“I could never forget,” Hotch shook his head, clearly amused, but he looked tense. You narrowed your eyes at him a bit. 

“I’ll wear it for old times sake, and because I know you guys will actually cover me.”

Derek, Hotch, and Emily went with you to the club. You were in Chicago, and Derek warned you that the parties could get a bit wild. Sitting in the back of the SUV, you couldn’t help but ask. “So, where’s your costumes?”

“Men in Black,” Hotch replied as though it were obvious.

Derek turned to look at you in the back, and pulled a cat ears headband out of nowhere, putting it on his head.

“We match.”

You all entered the club separately, and it wasn’t long until you were trying to fend people off left and right. It was getting difficult, as well. You hadn’t been in a relationship in a long time, and the lack of attention was getting to you. Well, at the very least, this evening showed you that you could still pull off the bunny suit. 

You were being hit on by a very attractive older man, and nearly giving in to his flirting, until something caught your eye. Someone that matched the description of the unsub. You snapped back into reality. Watching the man closely as he moved through the crowd. You apologized to the older man before moving to follow, also trying to find where Hotch and Derek might be, but you couldn’t see them. Despite your heart pounding in your chest, you managed to strike up a conversation with the unsub at the bar. You played the innocent young girl as much as possible, while trying to not seem too conveniently naive. Your goal was now to try and get him out of the club, away from other people. He was more than likely carrying a gun on him, and you knew whatever you were doing was dangerous.

Yet as he asked you if you wanted to go somewhere quieter, feigning that he couldn’t hear what you were saying, you agreed, hoping to appeal to his ego and not raise any alarm. You turned back to the busy club, eyes desperately searching for someone familiar, and you found him. He was up on the second floor, looking right at you. This time, he recognized the look you were giving him, his grip on the railing tightened and he shook his head, discouraging whatever the hell you thought you were about to do. And you didn’t listen. 

“You knew better than to go off and do that,” he scolded harshly, his anger seeping off of him and you felt yourself flinch. It was later that night. After the unsub attacked you in an alley not far from the club, you had managed to take him down without any assistance before Hotch and Derek made it to where you were. This was made much easier by the alcohol you had encouraged him to drink while speaking with him at the bar…

“And what the hell did you think you were doing, flirting ON THE JOB?” his voice rose and filled the hotel room the two of you shared.

“With the unsub?” You asked incredulously. “You asked me to go undercover! I got the guy! We had evidence, he’s in custody! Why are we arguing over this? It doesn’t even matter.”

This had been going on for five minutes already, starting since he shut the door to your shared hotel room. You hadn’t even changed out of the stupid costume as you sat perched on the corner of your bed with your arms crossed. The only part you had taken off were the stupid ears, now left on the nightstand.

“Not with the unsub, you were talking to someone else before. I saw you. What were you thinking?!” 

“I don’t know, maybe that I haven’t been on so much as a date since I started working for the BAU? I got the job done, I don’t know why you’re so mad because I talked to someone who was interested in me for less than a minute!”

“You can’t take going undercover as an opportunity to inflate your ego because you’re lonely.”

You stood up then, in complete shock at the words coming out of his mouth. You didn’t even look him in the eye.

“That was low,” you murmured, suddenly moving around the room to throw your belongings back into your bag.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Leaving.”

“Y/n, wait. Listen to me-”

“No!” you stopped him as he tried to approach you. “Just because you think you know me doesn’t mean you get to throw it in my face. That’s fucking low. I have given up so much for this job, so much for you.”

“I never asked you to give up anything for me.” You zipped your bag and looked up at him. “And I don’t think I know you. I do know you. And if you want me to stop, tell me and I will, but I don’t think you’ll need to.”

“What do you think you’re-“ the end of your sentence broke off in a small yelp as he approached you and quickly had you bent over his lap as he sat on the edge of your bed, delivering a harsh slap to your ass. 

You let out a moan at the sensation, unable to bite it back because of how much he had surprised you.

“Are you familiar with the color system?”

You were reeling from shock, but nodded your head. 

“Words, y/n. I need you to understand how to use it if you want to.”

“Red means stop, yellow means slow down, green is all good.”

“Yes. Color?”

“Green,” you responded readily.

 He kept talking, and kept spanking your ass harshly as he did so.

“Do you have any idea,” slap “how many times I’ve thought about doing this to you?” slap “Even the first god damn time I saw you in this ridiculous outfit,” slap “looking like such a little whore,” slap “I wanted to bend you over my lap just like this. You certainly misbehave enough to deserve it.” 

Your legs were squeezing together as you let out broken moans at the sensation of his large hand spanking you over and over, you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second when he suddenly grabbed your face and made you look at him, craning your neck from where you were placed on his lap.

“Is this what you wanted?” You nodded, looking into his eyes. “Say it.”

“Yes, sir,” you managed. 

“Good girl,” he praised. “Get on your knees.”

He released you and you slid off of him and onto the floor, kneeling in front of where he sat on the edge of the bed. 

You bit your lip as you tried not to squirm on the floor, waiting for him to unbuckle his belt. He paused before doing so to look at you. Another look asking if you were really okay with this. You smiled at him, nodding, and he swiftly took his length out, causing you to nearly whimper at the size and the look of it. He was rock hard, and the tip was oozing precum. 

Slowly, you leaned in and licked his cock tentatively, before he grabbed your hair and pushed you down on his length eliciting a muffled moan from you as you fought not to choke. He started thrusting into your mouth slowly, and at the sound of his groans you nearly lost it. His voice was already like a drug for you, hearing it in such an erotic state was driving you crazy. So much so that you tried to sneak your hand down and rub against your throbbing clit, desperate for any kind of friction. You only got away with it for a few moments before he noticed, taking his free hand and pulling your arm away.

“What kind of girl gets so drenched just from sucking off her boss’s dick? Hm?” 

He pulled you off of his cock just for a moment, and instead of answering, you just whimpered, pressing your thighs together, and he brought you back down to his cock. He started fucking your mouth again, and you kept moving your hips, grinding into nothing as you desperately sought relief. 

“Are you really that desperate?” He pulled you off again, and you nodded pathetically, spit dripping from your mouth and eyes glazed over. 

“Words, baby.”

“Yes,” you nodded again. “Please.”

“Are you gonna be a good girl?”

“Yes, sir.”

“On the bed.”

You scrambled off the floor to do as you were told, hurrying over to the closest bed which just so happened to be the one you had claimed during your stay, but he stopped you.

“No,” his voice was quick and firm. “I want you on my bed.”

Your mouth dropped open slightly at his words, making you slightly curious about just how deep his instinct to claim you as “his” went. Happily, you followed his request and quickly found yourself on the other side of the room. Rather than sit and face the wall, you were feeling a little bold, and got on all fours with your ass prominently on display.  

“What a well-behaved bunny,” he mused as he took off his clothes, leaving you twitching and desperate for him, with your neck craning to the side as your cheek was against the duvet. You quietly stared as he unbuttoned his shirt, and quickly got restless when he began to reveal more of his skin.

It felt like forever until he was on the bed behind you, his cock sheathed in a condom and pressing against your still-clothed ass.

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes.” 

“Color?”

“Green.”

“Do you want to let me use you? Or do you just want to cum?” He asked, his voice in a deep tone and his large hand reaching to caress your neck, gently grabbing your hair between his fingers and guiding your head up to look at him. It felt like an interrogation the way he questioned you, but it drastically increased the tension, and only made you want him more, and he shifted you slightly so your back was now against his chest, firmly in his hold.

“Mm, both.”

He chuckled from behind you. One of his hands was now gripping your breast which was barely hidden. The bodice of the costume relied on flimsy see-through straps to stay up, and he was quick to tear them off, making no more than a quick snapping sound before they were thrown somewhere on the floor. You felt him begin to press kisses to the side of your neck as he pulled the top of the fabric down, revealing your breasts and hungrily kneading them with one hand. With the other, his hand was traveling down your hip and across the front of your thighs before he hooked the fabric that covered your soaked entrance with his finger and moved it to the side. You gasped at the feeling of his hand moving directly against your clit, still impatient to cum even though it was well worth the wait.

 “Damn, you’re perfect.” The praise has you reeling as you rocked against him slightly. He lowered you back to where you had been, on all fours, and you could feel himself lining his cock up with your entrance behind you. “Ready, bunny?”

You nodded, and he easily entered you in a single thrust, no doubt thanks to how absurdly wet you had become. Despite the ease of entrance, the stretch felt brutal, it had you gasping and clutching the bedding under you.

He felt so big, and you hadn’t been fucked in a while. 

“Oh god,” you whimpered. “Sir, you’re so big.”

He let out a groan that had you clenching around his length, and pushing your hips back against him. His thick fingers found your hips and gripped them tightly as he pulled out almost to the tip and slammed back into you. You hadn’t realized how gentle he had started out until he began to pound into you at full force, each thrust making your legs tremble as his length hit the deepest spots inside of you. 

Given that you had already been so worked up from sucking him off, and were still riding the end of an adrenaline high from your work in the field earlier that night, your orgasm was rapidly approaching, only encouraged by the way Aaron had gently caressed any part of your body he could reach with one hand while the other still had a white hot grip on your hips. 

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to mess with the big bad wolves, bunny?” He murmured in your ear, aware of just how close you were and he knew exactly how to push you over the edge. Your eyes rolled back when his large hand found its way to your neck, squeezing gently but enough for you to feel it. Your legs shook uncontrollably as that coil inside you snapped and you let out a broken cry at the intensity of the orgasm washing over you. His movements only faltered slightly, otherwise unaffected by the way your walls had suffocated his cock.

You didn’t have the time or awareness to register just how quickly his movements were, as he pulled out of you, unzipped the back of your costume, quickly tore it entirely off your body, and flipped you over to face him. Your face flushed as you tried to catch your breath.

“Ooh, look at you,” he groaned. “Perfect little bunny.” Despite his mockingly sweet tone, he shoved himself back into you roughly, earning a cry from your lips as your oversensitive pussy took him in once more. The pleasure he was giving you was so intense, doubled by your years-long crush for the man who was giving it to you. You were so sensitive it felt almost cruel, but you didn’t want him to stop. His hand explored your body, gripping your bare hips and squeezing your breasts, putting his hands everywhere he’d never been able to before.

“Please,” you breathed out after a particularly sharp thrust, reaching for one of his hands but struggling to get your bearings enough to get a hold of it.

“Please what, bunny?”

The only response you could give was a drawn-out moan, but at your struggle, he placed a hand in your searching one, and you immediately brought it right to your throat.

“You want me to squeeze or just hold?”

“Hold,” you murmured, blushing that he stopped to check, the moment becoming more tender than either of you had intended. He kept a firm hold around your neck without choking you, just keeping you in place. Showing his power over you.

“You’re such a dirty bunny,” he murmured, resuming his sharp thrusts as you bit your lip to muffle the whines coming from your throat. You could feel how intensely you were pulsing around him, the sight of him over you with his hand around your neck causing your eyes to roll back as he fucked you into oblivion, slowly devolving to a blubbering and begging mess.

“Fuck, please! Please pleaseplease- sir-“ you slurred, hardly aware of anything except him as his cock brushed against every sensitive spot inside of you. While his thrusts had been deep and controlled and measured, your begging seemed to cause his pace to falter.

“Pretty Bunny,” he groaned, “cum again for me, make a mess on my dick.”

Your nails dug into his arms as you let out a cry, an odd deep feeling of relief settling over you as you came again with him buried inside of you, feeling as though all your nerves were on fire. His thrusts were starting to grow more erratic as he stared down at you, watching you as you sunk deeper into bliss, becoming less and less aware of what was around you. 

“Eyes on me, Bunny,” he panted, hand squeezing your throat gently for a moment just to get your attention. Your eyes opened, locking onto his as soon as you comprehended what he had asked, staring up at him  “Fuck, your eyes are so pretty.” Even in your blissed-out state, you hadn’t expected such a genuine compliment, staring at him in wonder as his movements slowed.

“Please, wanna feel you cum in me,” you whined, rocking your hips against him as he moved his hand from your throat to tightly grip your hip, trying to pull you further into him as he slammed into you, letting out a deep groan as he came, spilling into the condom while sheathed inside of you. You couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of him throbbing, and winced when he slowly began to pull out of you before disposing of the condom and laying next to you, pulling you into his arms. The two of you stayed like that for a long moment after you wiggled your way further into his grasp and laid your head next to his chest. 

“You’re really warm,” you sighed happily, trying to escape the chilly air of the room. He laughed, a sound you rarely heard from him. 

“I was jealous,” he murmured above you. Your mind was still hazy, body feeling heavy but tingly with pleasure.

“Huh?” You managed to question through the fog, eyes opening to look at him.

“When I saw you talking to that guy. I was jealous.”

“Is that why you got so mad?” You teased.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said, I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“No, but I won’t mind getting reprimanded more often…”

“Greedy,” he smiled. 

You sighed happily. “We really came full circle, didn’t we?”

He nodded. “Took us long enough. Derek has been telling me I need to ask you out since we met at that party two years ago.”

"The bunny girl outfit never fails," you murmured, smiling at him.

"On you? Never."

[saltoru]

cw: talks of body image

whenever you critique and complain of your body, gojo always quips back with a lighthearted “then just give it to me”

the first time you had this conversation, you were both standing in your kitchen after breakfast. you were wiping down the countertops when you opened up to him about thoughts regarding your body image, adding in a few lighthearted jokes and comments along the way.

he took a swig of his sweetened coffee and eyed you up and down from the corner of his eye. "then just give it to me," he exhales, setting the cup down and giving you a small shrug. you stopped wiping and looked at him confused.

"if you're not going to appreciate all this," he dramatically waves his hands in front of you, "then give it to someone who will. i certainly will, so just hand it over anytime."

amused, yet still confused, you frown and say, "how is that even supposed to work-"

he cuts you off and says, "your body will still be with you, but starting now, i'll be in charge of taking care of it." he looks behind him and adds, "you know what, my body's feeling kinda thirsty."

you watch him fill up a glass of water, mouth slightly ajar from puzzlement.

he brings the glass up to your lips and lightly taps your chin. "here, drink up."

you glare at him with furrowed brows as you somewhat reluctantly take a sip of water. "wait, so-" you begin.

"from now on, i'll be in charge of caring for your body," satoru firmly says, bringing his hands to your shoulders to make you look at him. "so you can't make those mean comments anymore. it's not right to talk about other people's bodies, right? this one ain't yours anymore until you start appreciating it."

and with that, he places his hand on your back and ushers you to the bathroom because "my body's feeling a little dirty, needs a bath."

for the next couple days, you decide to entertain his little gimmick to see how far he takes it. within these days, he diligently scrubbed you clean, fed you good, frequently made you drink water, take you on walks, and decide your outfits. you heard a lot of "how's my body doing, feeling kinda sore?" and then he'd spend the next 15 minutes massaging an area you never said was sore. "my body's craving ice cream," he'd say, and get up to get you your favorite ice cream.

"why is your body's favorite ice cream also my favorite ice cream?" you ask him as he hands you the carton and a spoon.

"coincidence," he shrugs.

"i'm feeling blue today," he'd say as he would hold up your light blue pants next to you. "hmm maybe dark blue...no, definitely light blue, even though both looks so good"

one afternoon, he suddenly said, "my body would look so good in this," and brought out his favorite baby blue lingerie set that he got you on one of his business trips. (it wasn't on sale and there was no special occasion, he just felt like getting one for you) satoru quickly ushered you to room to put it on.

"why would you randomly put your body in lingerie at 2:35 in the afternoon," you ask, trying to sound annoyed but really, you can't help your heart from fluttering at his dedication to this

"because i look good and i can," he widely grins as he looks you up and down. "c'mere, i'm suddenly feeling cold and need to be warmed up." he pats his lap and opens his arms. you bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling too hard.

since the beginning of your relationship, he had always been touchy, but this level was touchiness from these couple of days is unprecedented. his hands always had a place on your body. it used to just be one hand on your thigh or just his chin resting of your shoulder, but lately, it's been both hands on your thighs and his chin resting of your shoulder while his hands ran up your shirt. "gotta show my body extra love," he'd say when you question him. "since the previous owner wasn't so good at doing so"

the first time this happened, it lasted around a week. you found his whole gimmick amusing until after a while, you wanted to choose your own outfits, when you wanted to exercise ("not if," he insisted before giving your body back to you. "when" ), and what to eat, and after a quick promise to appreciate your body, he gave you a quick kiss and "handed it back."

this gimmick hasn't happened in a while, but every once in a while when he hears you complain, he just shakes his head and motions for you to hand it to him.

[thatnonameuser]

Hi!! Good morning, good afternoon or good night depending on when you read this.

First of all, I want to clarify that I am not very good at English 🥲. It's not my native language, so I'll use Google translator in some parts.

I wanted to ask what it would be like to have a very kind, loving and carefree darling in Yandere TW.

For example:

When the teachers talk about yanderes and darlings in class, our MC just thinks it's a joke, no matter how weird it may be.

When Ace suddenly appears in MC's bedroom, at the night, instead of welcoming him worried and trembling with fear (and with a knife), she welcomes him with open arms and even accep Ace offer to sleep next to her and Grim, even though they would be very cramped and probably uncomfortable.

Or being a sweet pea with every yandere in the Au just, because, yes? Even when the boys show very notable toxic, manipulative and sadistic tendencies that can harm, directly or indirectly, other people, or even worse, her self.

I really appreciate you reading this and just respond if you want. I don't want to bother.

I almost forgot to say it, but I love your Yandere TW stories.

It was night time when I got this, and firstly, thank you so much and don't worry I love to answer these.

I'll make this an imagine, so I hope you enjoy it.

TW: Drugging, aphrodisiacs

Imagine.....

This world is a little strange, but you're in a whole new world so, why should you judge? Sure, it's a little strange, but it has to be a joke. Right?

This is a villain school, right? This is all just to teach them to do that. New world, new rules. There's nothing wrong. Nothing to be afraid of.

Sure. Ace got into your room through the window in the middle of the night, but he was kicked out of his dorm and had nowhere to go. A little desperation is understandable.

"Hey, _____ Lemme stay with you, I'm real slim. I won't take up much space~" Oh, of course you said, yes. What were you going to do, let him sleep outside? He's your friend, friends have sleepovers sometimes. Yeah, you were forced to cuddle in real close to both fit, but it was considering how cold, it was a little body heat was nice.

Sure, you felt his hands get a little close in places, or him holding you too tight in others. But he was sleeping and the bed was already a tight fit.

There was nothing to worry about.

So when Trey offered you a variety of sweet-smelling and delicious-looking tarts....

"I accidentally made too many, ____ would you like some?" Once again, you said yes. Free food, by a baker that made such delicious desserts when cheap ol Crowley refused to give you anything fast, how could you say no? He was just being nice!

Sure, a good half hour after you ate them you started to feel very, very warm. So warm that your clothes became stifling. So warm that your skin felt like it was on fire. So warm that you needed to kick Grim out of your room so that you could relieve the burn. But maybe you were just pent up? You never did feel like that before.

There was nothing to worry about.

So when Jack frequently started offering you and then covering you with his jacket, regardless of whether or not you asked.....

"Put this on."

"Why?"

"Just keep it on." You didn't object, didn't stop it from happening. The weather was getting colder, maybe he was just covering you with it because he thought you were cold, it was autumn and soon it would be winter. He was just being nice.

Sure, it eventually progressed to him touching you more and more, keeping at it until you smelled vaguely of his cologne. And yeah, while it really annoyed Leona and Ruggie, it kept the other beastmen away from you.

There's nothing to worry about.

So when you got into a scuffle that ended with Leona leaving a large bite mark meant to be permanently planted in the back of your neck for all to see.

"Oi, Herbivore don't cover my mark." You did as he said and moved on. It was just a coincidence that after Jack and Ruggie saw it they got very mad. Or the Octavinelle trio. But again it was just a coincidence.

There's nothing to worry about.

So when Floyd squeezed you so tight that your ribs felt like snapping and he wouldn't let go no matter how much you begged him to.

So when you suddenly felt sick after eating whatever Jade prepared for you, which was conveniently when you were spending time with people that were not him.

So when Azul offers you contract after contract, that are meant to tie you to him forever.

So when Kalim gave you gift after gift. Each more expensive than the last. Jewellery, Clothes, Food, and more all exotic or ridiculously expensive. And he'd keep giving them no matter how much you refused.

So when you blanked out mid conversation with Jamil, and woke up, with a headache and no memory of why there was a snake bracelet around your bicep.

So when Epel gets into fights with the delinquents that bother you, beating the life out of them and coming to you to treat whatever injuries he gets. Fights he gets into no matter how many times Vil punishes him for them.

So when things go missing from your room, especially on the days you meet Rook, especially some of your more personal belongings.

So when after the afternoons Vil takes to 'polish' the apple he considers you to be

So when you start to find some hidden cameras in your room after

So when Malleus gave you that necklace charm that you couldn't take off no matter how hard you pulled.

So when Silver visits your dreams, saving you from your nightmares and trying to serenade you while you slept.

So when Sebek, even with his clear dislike of humans, treats you like you're so fragile that he doesn't even consider leaving you alone.

Your conclusion is always the same.

They were just being nice.

You were overeacting.

Nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.

[starlitiris]

“Imperfect Hatred” ~ (Sebastian x Reader)

Summary: A little while after you pass Sebastian’s shop, you mysteriously run into him again. And just in time, by the looks of it.

Notes: The prompt for this chapter was suggested by LukeySkywookie in the comments on the last chapter on ao3!

If it ends up being a terrible then I blame the fact that I worked a 9 1/2 hour shift yesterday. Yippee!!!! A little heads up, you might be out of character if you hate squiddles and not-so-imaginary friend

Also the title was inspired by Ultrakill i LOVE REFERENCING THINGS WITH CHAPTER TITLES please enjoy my goofy ass writing <3

ALSO NOT TO MAKE THE NOTES TOO LONG BUT I PROMISE I’M WORKING ON MORE PAINTER x Y/N JUST HANG IN THERE COMPUTER KISSERS I GOT U

~ 🦈 ~

Sebastian was just out scavenging for data and supplies when he stumbled upon you by pure, unfortunate coincidence. He didn’t think the navi-path would lead you in this direction, but alas, here you are. Lovely. Just when he was finally enjoying some alone time.

He watches you search through all the drawers and shelves in the room. You shove whatever you can find into the bag given to you by Urbanshade with the intention of collecting assets. A smile paints your face when you find an orange vile alongside a stack of files and USBs.

How pointless. You’re just going to die soon, anyway. Don’t you get that by now? Any kroner you’ll get from having that crap on you is completely useless. It does nothing for you. You can buy all the supplies and ferry coins you want with that stuff, but you’re still going to die. You always do. Why bother picking things up after you pass his shop? Are you really that stupid? He’ll never understand you.

As much as you frustrate him, he finds your ignorance and determination… amusing. If he were in your position, he would’ve given up a long time ago. But here you are. Nearing your 50th death, and still aiming for that crystal with a stronger will than what you started with. He cannot fathom why.

You had no idea he was watching you. The only way you would know he was there is if he wanted you to know. Large as he may be, he’s gotten very good at sneaking around undetected since the lockdown started. He’s a lot more quiet than you would think.

Whilst pondering your infuriating inability to simply give up, he decides it wouldn’t hurt to stick around for a bit. Just to see how you get on. And to collect anything you might have missed while making your way through the blacksite.

When you enter the next room, he follows not too far behind. He watches you check for dangers, collect assets, and move on to the next room. He keeps stalking you, watching you repeat this process every time you open a new door. This was all routine for you – something you were now able to do without giving it much thought. Aren’t you miserable, doing this day in and day out? You really are a pain in the ass.

You could feel his eyes on you. An uneasy feeling of being watched that you couldn’t shake crept up your spine.

This experience wasn’t new to you by any means. Something was almost always watching you, if Urbanshade wasn’t. Cameras were littered all over this wretched place. But this time, something just felt… different. And you couldn’t for the life of you explain why.

You had gotten used to the feeling of being watched by now, but the unfamiliarity that you couldn’t quite place your finger on unsettled you. It had you looking over your shoulder more frequently than you usually would.

Sebastian took notice of this. Not that it bothered him, though. You wouldn’t be able to find him. He knew that. It did mean he would have to be more careful to stay hidden, however. He didn’t want you to know who your new stalker was.

You kept trying to ignore the feeling, forcing yourself to stop looking over your shoulder after some time. It was just making you feel more paranoid. Whatever was watching you, if anything, definitely wasn’t going to show itself if it hadn’t by now. You just hoped it wouldn’t be what ended your run.

Soon enough, you found a temporary distraction from that paranoid feeling. A little red remote, hidden away in a small locker. A soft gasp leaves you, and you pick it up.

“Imaginary Friend!” You smile, handling the little toy with care. You’re about to press the button on it, but you stop before you can push down on the soft silicone. You frown. “Aww… I probably shouldn’t. I’m sorry my beautiful angel princess, but I don’t want you whispering about things crawling in my skin while I’m already feeling really paranoid. Sorry…” You gently place the remote back where you found it.

Wait.

Pause.

You actually like that thing?? What the hell is wrong with you?

Sebastian grimaces as you walk away from the locker, genuinely looking sad and guilty- what the hell is wrong with you??? That thing is FREAKY and WEIRD, and you’re apologizing to it when it probably can’t even hear you?? What on earth do you have to be sad about?? It probably doesn’t care, and likely doesn’t even know you found the remote!

You sigh a big, sad sigh and look for the next door to open. You are fucking strange. Sebastian shakes his head at you. What a moron.

A few rooms later, you find yourself in a large area with all the lights out.

“Great,” you mutter bitterly and pull out your flashlight. You traverse carefully through the open area, making sure you don’t trip or bump into anything. You groan, loud and annoyed when you reach the door to the next room and find that it needs a keycard. Wonderful. Splendid. Time to backtrack.

Sebastian stifles a chuckle. Your poor idiot.

After searching around for almost 5 minutes and wasting nearly all of what remaining battery power you had in your flashlight, you finally hear that satisfying buzzing sound that emits from the keycards for some reason. You sigh in relief and turn off your light, hoping you can find it on sound alone.

You follow the buzz, inching closer and closer until you reach a wide cabinet with a single thin drawer right beneath the top of the furniture. You eagerly open the drawer and scan the interior for that stupid piece of plastic. You’re barely able to spot it in the darkness, but you see it on the far right end of the drawer. You move in to grab it, but stop when a loud hissing starts right in your ear. You look up and are met with one of many familiar glowing white faces, inches away from yours. You jolt and stumble away from it as soon as you process that you were toe-to-toe with a squiddle.

“Dammit!” You look at the keycard after the squiddle calms down, then look back to where you saw its face. It is standing directly in front of the keycard. “Why can’t you just move??”

Sebastian had to cover his mouth so he didn’t snort out loud at your persisting misfortune. He’d like to see you get out of this unharmed.

This has happened to you once before. You know if you're quick, you can just grab it and go. You can do this. It won’t be fun, but you can do it.

You take a deep breath to brace yourself, then quickly move forward and slap around the inside of the drawer to find the keycard again.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” You repeat as the hissing starts up again, getting louder with each passing second. After desperately failing to pick up the piece of plastic way too many times, you’re able to pick it up and throw yourself back just in time before the squiddle attacks you. You let out a big, exasperated breath.

“Fuck!” You look at the squiddle again once you’ve recollected yourself. “Sorry, buddy… didn't mean to invade your personal space like that.”

… What.

Did you…

Did you just apologize? To the squiddle?

The Not-So-Imaginary Friend is one thing, but the squiddles? Those are actual threats. They can, and have, killed you. More than once. You have their full document to attest to that. Hell, it could’ve been this specific squiddle that caused one of your past deaths. But you are honestly, sincerely apologizing to it for ‘invading it’s personal space’? You have GOT to be braindead or something.

You unlock the next door.

Sebastian is baffled. Baffled, and quite frankly, very angry with you. There is no room for kindness down here. Nobody wants to be your friend, nobody wants to see you succeed, and nobody wants your goddamn apology. All this place has ever known is misery and hostility. Everything is out to get you. You have over 40 deaths at this point to prove that you aren’t naive to that.

This place has tortured you. Not once has it ever shown you a fraction of the kindness he’s just witnessed you showing it. Since the first time you arrived on that submarine, you have been burned, drowned, electrocuted, beaten, consumed, crushed, mutilated, drained of life, and shot dead more times than you could count.

Even Sebastian himself has killed you once before. Given you might have deserved it – even though he was egging you on as well that day – but even after that, you still try to be nice to him when you have it in you to be. You’re polite to him. You never try to touch or climb him like he’s some animal at a petting zoo. The run he killed you on was the only time you ever flashed him with the flash beacon. On most of your runs, you buy shit you don’t even need if you have the data for it. He knows you only do this to give him more research. He doesn’t understand why, but he knows you do it. Nobody needs a lantern and a normal flashlight when they already have a hand crank one.

You are kind. You’re kind, determined, gentle, considerate, funny… a breath of fresh air. He desperately wants to understand how somebody like you can exist in a world so cruel and unforgiving.

He can almost admit that he’s fond of you. Almost. Maybe he would be able to if you didn’t make him so angry.

It’s every man for himself down here. Why don’t you get that?

Why waste your time caring about anybody but yourself?

You won’t survive like this.

You haven't been surviving.

If there’s any chance at all that you could get that crystal and leave with it, he’s certain you won’t be able to do it if you keep going on the way you have been.

It doesn’t do you any good. He would know better than anyone.

Nobody is on your side.

The next couple of rooms are uneventful. The lights were all out, so you didn’t have to worry about anglers or Pandemonium. You had put a new battery in your flashlight at this point so you could see where the hell you were going. You were back into your rhythm. Look for dangers, check drawers, find the next door, repeat. Like it’s second nature to you.

Finally, after what felt like forever, you enter a room with the lights on. You turn off your flashlight, and proceed with your routine.

A gross, wet sound assaults Sebastian’s ears – or lack thereof. Looking in the direction of the sound, he spots exactly what he expected to see.

A wall dweller. Gross.

He looks back toward you to see if you heard it as well, only to find you still opening drawers for loose assets. Apparently you hadn’t, then.

Sebastian watches the wall dweller slowly creep up behind you while you’re none the wiser.

He stares. Intently.

You’ll hear its footsteps any second now, surely.

Surely.

… Why are you still checking drawers.

Sebastian squints. The wall dweller is nearly on your heels- are you not paying attention?? Where is your head?!

A wave of panic washes over Sebastian as the wall dweller is right on your tail, reeling back with an open mouth to kick you down and take a good chunk out of your neck.

You’re looking through yet another drawer.

The wall dweller lifts its leg.

It braces itself to kick the back of your knee, and-

KRRKNCH!

The loud sound startles you, and you whip around immediately to see what it was.

Sebastian was behind you, snarling over… what you think used to be a wall dweller. You aren’t sure what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this.

You stare, shocked.

He makes eye contact with you.

He looks panicked for a brief, fleeting, almost unnoticeable moment before he stands up straight to recollect himself. He wipes the wall dweller remains on his hands off on his jacket, cringing in disgust at the carnage he caused.

“Why don’t you pay attention next time? Considering what I almost just had to witness, I’m shocked you even made it this far,” he snaps, ignoring how befuddled you are to be seeing him outside of his shop.

“You.. when the hell did you get here?!” You question, rightfully confused.

“I was just passing through. And by the looks of it, you’re lucky I was,” he mockingly grins.

“Really? Just passing through?” Something in you doesn’t want to believe him.

“Yyyup.”

“I’ve never seen you outside of your shop before,” you state, your tone indicating disbelief.

“I have a life outside of my shops, you know. How do you think I stock up after you expendables leave me empty handed?”

“Well… okay, I guess that’s fair. I know you scavenge around for things, I just never expected to run into you while you were doing it.”

“Yet here we are.”

“Right…” your gaze drifts back down to the, uh… splattered wall dweller remains on the ground. “Ew… uh, thanks for that by the way.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replies bluntly.

You step to the side to make some distance between you and the carnage- and then a realization strikes you.

“Wait, why didn’t you just let it kill me? If you did, you could’ve just looted my corpse again. It’s not like you haven’t done that plenty of times before. Don’t you want me to fail?”

He stares at you. Usually he’s quick to respond to anything you have to say to him, but it seems you might have actually stumped him for once. You weren’t exactly sure why, though.

You stare at each other in silence for a little too long before Sebastian finally speaks up.

“... Well. Some of you expendables like to eat this disgusting shit, don’t you?” He picks up a dweller chunk off the ground. “I just figured since I’ve seen you freaks eat them often enough, and they’re usually so hard to come by, I could start hunting them down once in a while and sell chunks of them for a good price! Smart business move, no?” He grins again, seemingly back in character.

You blink. “... Okay, yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

“See? I’m just scavenging. Nothing more to it. This is purely for my benefit, not for yours.”

You frown, annoyed and unamused. “Right. Got it. Thanks.”

He hums with a cheeky smile before turning around to leave. “Well, I best be going. See you real soon, Expendable.”

“Wait!”

He halts, glancing over his shoulder to find you removing your bag from your person.

“While you’re here…” you hand Sebastian your bag. “Want this?”

He’s staring again. At you, then at the bag. Then back up to you.

“… What do you want?” He asks, turning to face you once more.

“Nothing. I have everything I need, really, and I don’t want you to have to re-scavenge for whatever I would buy off of you here. So… take it.”

You’ve stunned him again. This time you figure it’s because you’re basically offering him free money.

Once again, he is trying desperately to understand you. But he can’t. He never does, and he doesn’t think he ever will.

Seriously, what is wrong with you? Why are you like this? Why are you so kind to him, even in moments like this? And why does it make him feel so…

“Sebastian?”

Your voice interrupts his train of thought.

He rudely snatches the bag out of your hand. “Don’t expect me to give you anything for this later,” he warns.

“I won’t. Consider it a thanks for saving me,” you smile.

“I wasn’t trying to save you.”

“I know,” you assure him and make your way to the next room the navi-path is leading you to.

He watches you.

You wave to him as you walk off, facing away from him as you do. “See you soon, fish sticks!”

He watches until you’re out of sight.

A strange, fluttery feeling occupies his stomach. You did this to him. He hates it.

He hates your stupid nicknames for him. He hates your stupid face, and that stupid smile you give him almost every time he sees you. He hates your teasing, and your little playful remarks that you send his way when he’s being an asshole. He hates your stupid laugh. He hates that he’s memorized the way the corners of your eyes crinkle when you do. He hates all the little things you do to show that you care and don’t want to upset him. He hates that you express that same kindness to other occupants of this hellscape that deserve it more than he does. He hates that you’re an unstoppable force that won’t quit no matter how often he discourages you.

He hates you. More than anything.

And yet…

For some reason…

A part of him still can’t wait to see you again on your next run.

[taylormarieee]

Stalker Thomas Webb

Summary: Your the new girl and you've just moved into this apartment in New York to get away from your parents and it seems you have a cute stalker...

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairings: Thomas Webb x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Thomas being a stalker, confrontation, suggestive throughout the entire fic, reader being a tease, Thomas being a needy boy, Thomas playing dumb/ hard to get, Mimi being jealous, almost smut...tehehe maybe part 2?

You were so happy to finally be free of the toxic relationships in your life. Your mom, your dad, and even your ex boyfriend. You were free, finally free.

You loved reading and writing and you felt as though you could achieve your passion, your goal to be a writer here in New York. Your mom never accepted it, a small town girl could never possibly make it big.

But you wanted to prove her wrong. You wanted your name in the paper and to be in interviews and to finally show them at you did mean something, that you had talent, that you actually had what it takes to be successful.

Yea, you were a small town girl but you were going to show them that small town girls can make it big! You finally got an apartment. Your apartment number was 2c. You were so happy.

You even made a friend. His name was Thomas. He lived in the Apartment two doors down from you. He was like you.

College dropouts, suckers for writing, lovers for books, you guys were destined to be friends.

But Thomas wanted something more. Even if he did just meet you 2 days ago, he wanted to feel every inch of your body on his body. He wanted you so close that your souls were touching.

He craved you, needed you. So whenever you went out, he went out as well. Constantly stalking and seeing what you were up too. But what Thomas didn't notice was that he wasn't exactly being sneaky or discreet about his stalking.

You constantly saw him and at first you just thought you guys were in the same place coincidently but then you started noticing him everywhere. Places he usually wouldn't be.

You found it quite cute because you wanted to be more than just friends with Thomas too! Yea, you guys have known each other for like 2 weeks now but he was incredibly attractive and you just wanted to suck the life out of him.

Prune him of every last drop of cum he has in his body. Make his dick twitch with overstimulation and anticipation. You wanted it badly but when was the right time?

Eventually when his stalking decided to get more frequent, you decided to confront him. You hid behind a wall waiting for him to turn the corner. When he did you jumped out with a "Boo!" and he stumbled back.

You began to laugh and his face got red. "Hey Thomas... why you stalking me, hmm?" you asked in the sweetest voice.

He's blushing heavily now, 'dammit you knew, he's screwed'.

"W-What do you mean y/n? I wasn't f-following you." He falters and you find it kinda cute. You smile at him and get closer to him. "Oh really? You've been following me for 2 and a half weeks now baby... why deny it? I'm not mad...I find it adorable actually."

He gulps and you can physically hear his heart beating. You get closer to him and your eyes rake up and down his body. A smirk creeps it's way onto his face as he questions, "Your not mad?" He asks.

You shake your head 'no' and he smiles even wider. "that's good. Was planning on doing it a lil longer." He says.

"Why stalk me when were neighbors. If you wanna fuck me just ask." You respond. His eyes grow wide at your statement. 'You caught him' he thought.

That's exactly what he wanted. For some reason he couldn't verbalize it with you. He wanted to make sure you weren't seeing anyone and now that his fear has been denied, he can have you all to himeself.

"What makes you think I wanna fuck you? Hmm?" He asks with a smirk on his face and it only grows wider when yours falters. You look around and shuffle nervously but then as you opened your mouth to say something, some girl turned the corner.

"Thomas, what's going on here?" She asks. She's short but maye the same height as you. Short black hair and melanin skin that glowed in the sunlight.

"Oh hey Mimi." He says breaking his eye contact away from you to face her. 'So this was mimi... the girl that couldn't get her fucking feelings straight,' you thought. She was pretty but Thomas deserved better in your opinion.

"Who are you? and Thomas what the hell!? You were supposed to meet me today at the cafe. I saw you walk by but you didn't come in so I decided to follow you." she says looking between you and Thomas.

"This is my new friend," he says introducing you by your name. "I'm hanging out with her. I totally forgot about the cafe today, my bad." He says.

You scoot a little closer to Thomas to let a woman pass by she mutters out an 'Excuse me' and you smile and gladly move out her way. You grab Thomas' hand to make sure that the lady didn't have to say it again.

Mimi's line of eyesight drops down and you notice your still holding Thomas's hand. You let go of his hand and smile at him. "Me and Nick broke up. Wanted to tell you that today..." She says looking everywhere but Me and Thomas.

"Did you?" He says looking dead at her. She looks up and makes eye contact with him. "Your supposed to be more excited than that. I broke up with him because I got into Croatia and I want you to come with me!" she says as we stand there.

You can tell she's fuming. It's like right out of a forbidden love story except there usually standing in the rain. Shes mad at you. feels as if you are taking Thomas away from her when he was her's first.

But she can't be mad when she blew it, she is the cause to this whole situation. Thomas wanted her. Badly, and she blew it.

"I have a confession to make." Thomas says. You are looking at Mimi but realize he's not looking at her. He's looking at you.

"I love you. I've loved you since the first time I saw you walk into your apartment. Since the first time we made eye contact I knew. I knew I needed to be with you. So I followed you. Everywhere. More than 2 and a half weeks. I followed you to find out what you liked and what your routine was." He confesses. Your heart swells and you smile.

"I know I seem weird and out of place and I probably sound like a complete creep but, I really do love you. I'm so in love with you that it hurts." He finishes his confession with a sigh and your smile only gets wider.

"I love you too Thomas. I've loved you since I first saw you grabing your mail and talking to that nice old man in 2b. I'm in love with you too Thomas Webb. So much I might cry cuz I felt like I couldn't have you because of her." You say motioning to mimi.

Mimi drops her head as she realizes she's too late. She confessed to Thomas and he found someone else. He really was a good man, guess it was just the right person at the wrong time.

You hug Thomas not wanting to kiss him in front of Mimi to make her feel bad. She says goodbye to Thomas before getting a cab.

He feels bad now but if she’s leaving she most likely won’t come back. He grabs your hand and you both start running towards your apartment as it did start to rain.

When you both got inside the apartment complex, you both laughed as you were both drenched due to the rain.

"I need you... god I've waited so long." Thomas confesses. Your eyes twinkle and you smile.

But you realize that this is all happening a little to fast. As much as you wanted to give into the throbbing between your legs, you needed a tiny bit of time to think.

Before you could answer he kisses you and pushes you against the door. Your hands find purchase on his chest. his muscles and abs being see through because of his wet shirt.

You kiss him back eagerly as you taste cherry on his lips. You break the kiss and suck on that sweet spot on his neck and jaw. Marking him as yours.

He moans in your ear as he lifts you up to straddle his waist. You lock lips with him again before realizing what you were going to say to him.

"T-Thomas baby, wait... wait a second." You say out of breath. He hums and looks at you. "W-What? what's wrong?"

"This is going a little too fast hmm? Lemme just think about this cause mimi is still plaguing my mind and I feel bad. I want you so badly but let's freshen up and come over later tonight yea... to finish what we started ok?" You say with a little smirk on your face.

You kiss him one more time before adjusting his glasses and kissing his nose. He smiles and slaps your ass before he makes his way to the door.

"Your lucky I love you... I'll wait just a little longer for you." He says before smiling and closing the door. You giggle to yourself and make your way to your bedroom.

Oh how you longed to see him again... feel him just one more time...

Taglist: @emmaafinchh @dustbunniess @willyoubemycherryy

[joeshiestyslover]

ᯓ★ ifhy- c. sturniolo ᯓ★

"and i'm grieving and my heart starts bleeding, life without you has no goddamn meaning"

pairing: ghostface!chris sturniolo x reader

summary: you are chris’s childhood crush, and years later, you reconnect after a chance encounter at a party. chris seems normal at first, but over time, his toxic feelings from the past resurface. he can’t stand the thought of anyone else being near you, and he's willing to do anything to keep you for himself

warnings: toxic! and obsessive!chris, stalking, language, blood, gore, murder, angst

word count: 1.7k

a/n: don't read if you're uncomfortable with any of the themes mentioned above

based off this request

sturniolo masterlist navigation

reply to this post to be added to the taglist

happy reading!

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ophelia ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

it had been years since you thought of chris.

the two of you grew up in the same neighborhood, just kids chasing ice cream trucks and climbing trees in the summer sun. you never really kept in touch after middle school, as life took you in different directions, but the memories were always there—fond, innocent.

so, when you saw him at that party last weekend, standing across the room, a beer in his hand, it took you a moment to place him. he looked different now. taller, broader. his dark hair was longer, slightly messy, but his eyes—those blue eyes you remembered—were the same. they brightened when they landed on you.

"hey," he said, grinning as he approached. "it’s been a long time, hasn’t it?"

it had been. too long, maybe.

you caught up, talked about old times, laughed about the silly things you used to do. there was something comforting about reconnecting with someone who knew you before adulthood twisted things into stress and complexity. chris was kind, charming even. you exchanged numbers before the night ended, not thinking too much of it.

at first, it seemed casual enough—harmless. a few texts, some late-night conversations. he was sweet, nostalgic. you even met for coffee a couple of times. it felt natural, familiar, as if no time had passed at all. but there was something beneath the surface that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

chris was always available. he replied to your texts almost instantly, showed up wherever you happened to be—whether it was at the grocery store or with friends at a bar. at first, you brushed it off as coincidence, but the way he looked at you began to change. his eyes, once warm and light, now held something deeper, darker. you caught him staring at you in ways that made your skin crawl, even if he smiled right after.

the shift was gradual, like a slow-building storm.

"who was that guy you were talking to?" chris asked one night after a party when you two had gotten back to your apartment. his voice had an edge to it, something sharp that hadn’t been there before. you frowned, confused. "what guy?" "at the party. the guy by the bar. you were laughing with him." he responds gruffly. "oh, him?" you chuckled awkwardly. "that was just ryan. we were catching up. he’s an old friend."

chris didn’t laugh. in fact, he didn’t say anything at all for a long moment. he just stared at you, his jaw clenched, his hands tight into fists at his sides. "i don’t like him," he finally muttered. "he looked at you like he wanted something." "chris, you’re overthinking it. he’s just a friend."

"i don’t care what he is," chris snapped, his voice louder than before. his eyes were burning now, a wildfire of something unhinged. "you shouldn’t be talking to other guys like that." you blinked, taken aback. "i think you're overreacting." but chris wasn’t listening anymore. he stormed off, leaving you standing there, heart racing, wondering where things had gone wrong.

days passed, but the feeling of unease only grew stronger. you couldn’t shake the sense that chris was always watching you. texts became more frequent, more intense, as if he needed constant reassurance of where you were and who you were with. one night, you woke to a dozen missed calls from him.

i’m just checking on you, one text read, but it felt like a lie.

it wasn’t long before you began noticing something even more unsettling—things out of place in your apartment. a shirt missing, your favorite necklace suddenly gone. and then the phone calls started. you’d pick up, only to hear heavy breathing on the other end. you’d hang up, but the calls kept coming.

one night, after a particularly long day, you came home to find your apartment door ajar. panic seized you as you pushed it open, scanning the darkness. nothing seemed out of place at first, but then, in the corner of your living room, a figure stepped out from the shadows.

a black robe and a white mask. a white mask covered in blood.

your heart stopped.

"chris?" you whispered, though it came out more like a plea.

the masked figure tilted its head, and then, in one smooth motion, he pulled the mask off. it was him. chris. his expression was eerily calm, too calm.

"i didn’t want to scare you," he said, as if this was normal—him standing in your living room dressed as ghostface. "i just… i need you to understand."

"understand what?" your voice wavered, and your pulse pounded in your ears.

"that you’re mine. you’ve always been mine. since we were kids." his tone was steady, almost affectionate. "i can’t let anyone else have you."

you backed away, the fear finally taking over. "chris, this is crazy—"

"i’m not crazy!" he shouted, his calm demeanor shattering into anger. "i’ve waited for you. I’ve loved you all these years, and you—" he took a step toward you, and you flinched. "you think you can just be with anyone? talk to anyone?"

"chris, please," you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady, though the tremble betrayed you.

he stopped, eyes softening, though the madness lingered. "you don’t understand. i’ve done everything for you. you don’t have to be afraid of me. i’d never hurt you." he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "but i’ll kill anyone who tries to take you from me." you take a step back, taking a shaky breath, "chris... what did you do?"

the moment chris caught you talking to that ryan guy at your friend's party, he felt his blood boil. chris wasn't going to let anyone stand between you and him, especially not ryan.

when chris left your apartment that evening, he was seeing red. he stayed at home for a few days to try to cool off, but to no avail. a few days later, before he could give it much thought, he changed into his black robe and white mask. he then went on his phone and looked at your instagram, clicking on your following, and by dumb luck, he found ryan's instagram. he pressed on his story and saw he had posted from a restaurant not even five minutes from his house. chris grabbed one of his blades and walked out of his house, making his way to the restaurant.

he lost track of how long he waited for ryan to walk towards his car, but when he finally stepped out of the restaurant, chris was ready to pounce. before ryan could even open his car door, chris came up behind him and covered his mouth with his left hand. ryan began to struggle against his grip, but his effort was futile. chris had him tight in his arms, and he wasn't letting go until the job was done.

chris snakes his arm around ryan's body, plunging the knife into his abdomen, making ryan cry out in pain. chris had to keep him quiet, and his hand could only do so much. for good measure, he reached the knife up and sliced his neck, causing the blood to splatter everywhere, even getting some on his white mask. but that didn't matter, he was finally quiet.

to be extra sure he wouldn't cause more problems for you and him, chris buried his knife into ryan's chest a few more times. when he was positive he was no longer a threat, he took a step back, a faint smile of relief evident on his face. proud of his work, chris begins to trek back to your apartment, excited to tell you the news that ryan would no longer get in the way of the two of you. however, he didn't take into account that you wouldn't be as enthused as he is.

"oh my god," you whisper, covering your mouth with your hand. your heart was hammering in your chest as you took in his words. you scanned the room for an escape, but chris stepped closer, his expression softening into something almost tender. “we’re meant to be together. i won’t let anyone come between us.”

“no, chris, this isn’t love. you’re obsessed,” you said, hoping to reach the part of him that was still that boy you used to know. “you need help.”

for a moment, he hesitated, his expression faltering, as if your words had gotten through. but then his face hardened again. “i don’t need help. i just need you. life without you has no goddamn meaning.”

as he took another step forward, you bolted for the kitchen. your hands fumbled through the drawers, searching for something—anything—to defend yourself with. your fingers finally closed around the handle of a knife. you whirled around just as chris reached you, the knife held between you both.

“chris, please don’t make me do this,” you begged, voice shaking.

his eyes darted to the blade in your hand, and for a split second, doubt flickered across his face. but then he reached for you, determined, obsessed. you didn’t think. you reacted. the knife plunged forward, sinking into his side.

he gasped, staggering backward, his eyes wide with shock. blood blossomed around the wound, staining his robe. “i… i did this for you,” he choked out, dropping to his knees.

tears welled in your eyes, but you didn’t lower the knife. you couldn’t trust him—not anymore. “chris… i’m sorry. i never wanted this.”

his gaze locked onto yours, and in that moment, the rage melted away, replaced by something almost broken. “you’ll never be free of me,” he whispered, before collapsing onto the floor.

you stood there, frozen, the reality of what you’d done crashing down around you. the boy you once knew was gone, replaced by the monster he had become. but deep down, you knew he had left you no choice.

and even as the sirens blared in the distance, you couldn’t shake the feeling that chris had been right about one thing.

you would never truly be free of him.

[realisticjupiter]

Hiii I hope you're doing well this fine evening:) I was wondering if you can write chishiya that notice this one beach resident (reader) that keeps staring at him and at first he thinks that she's planning some evil schemes or something but no he just finds out with his super detective skills she's drawing him. Alot. And ends up confronting her about it. Thank you sooo much xoxo.

ꔫ ⸝⸝ summary: chishiya always seemed to catch you in the act. what was the act? he needed to know.

ꔫ ⸝⸝ pairing: chishiya x gn!reader

ꔫ ⸝⸝ genre: fluff

ꔫ ⸝⸝ warnings: none

ꔫ ⸝⸝ word count: 931

A/N: this was a little rushed but i hope you still like it!

It started off as what Chishiya hoped to be a coincidence. When he'd catch your gaze and you'd walk away; like a guilty dog.

He could tell you've gained more confidence when you'd stare right back at him and continue the soft movements of your wrist on the notebook you had laid on your lap.

Then it became more frequent, like you'd been following him and knew everywhere he'd be.

At some point he thought he was the one following you.

He couldn't pull away when he saw you again. Up on a balcony with the ability to look at every other beach resident, but every time you looked up--your eyes were on him.

He had given you the nickname 'Stalker' when talking to Kuina about it. And Kuina happened to be the one who put the paranoid thought that you were plotting an evil scheme against him.

Honestly, it could make sense. The constant writing, the more frequent encounters. What else would it be?

Chishiya, the curious cat. Far too curious for his own good the way he made his way back inside the Beach. Fast and large footsteps going towards where he saw you. Hoping he'd catch you before you'd disappear again.

But just with his luck, the chair you once sat in was empty. He took smaller steps to walk deeper inside the balcony, looking down to see your perspective.

Chishiya turned around, eyeing the chair that he wanted to stuff in an evidence bag and get it tested for anything and everything to figure out who you were.

He kneeled down, bringing his hand out to grab onto the black piece that felt like chalk on his fingers.

It was charcoal. Why did you have charcoal?

And as smart as Chishiya was. He now realized every theory he had, was now wrong just by this small piece in his hand.

He stood back up, studying the charcoal under his intimidating gaze as if it would talk to him with words.

You were an artist. At least, that's what it seemed like. Someone plotting on his demise wouldn't be writing a plan in charcoal. But rather draw a picture, like a face they could see daily.

That was his face.

Now he really wanted to find you; more than before. He wanted to ask you if he was right, and then maybe you'd show him your art with a smile.

He thought about that charcoal piece since he had woken up. And he realized maybe he could see the way other people viewed him, outside of his life and onto a piece of paper.

Catching you in the act seemed easy in his mind. He went to the same place every morning, and he'd see you there too. But instead of being on his side of the room, he'd sneak up behind you. Startle you, then help you up before taking that charcoal piece out of his pocket and into your view.

Sometimes he scared himself how easy it was to predict other people's moves, it felt like he had some sort of superpower.

Because that's exactly what happened.

You jumped to the sound of his voice, "Stalking again?" His voice husky, but soft as he spoke with a grin.

"Maybe?" You spoke as if it was question towards him, afraid you had made him uncomfortable.

"Maybe?" His grin grew larger when he quoted your words back to you, bringing out that charcoal piece you left behind.

You put on a shy smile when you saw it, reaching your hand out to grab it before he pulled away.

"It took me a while to find out what you were doing." Chishiya spoke, looking around your body to try and spot that notebook you carried around.

"It's only fair you show me what you were really doing." He cleared his throat after the words left his mouth, his eyes going back to yours to study your expression.

"That's true..." You chuckled, "I guess that is fair." You sighed, taking the notebook out of the satchel that rested on your body.

You handed it to him. You didn't need to show him a certain page, the entire notebook was just filled with him and maybe someone who was standing beside him if you got bored.

He noticed a few of him and Kuina, noticing the perfect strokes of led or charcoal that stained the white pages.

"These are better than I thought they would be." He hummed honestly, slowly flicking through the pages and taking in everything they offered.

"Thanks." You nodded, "Sorry if I made you uncomfortable... Or anything. I'm not good at talking to people. And you're quite satisfying to draw." You explained through a nervous lump in your throat. Your fingers fidgeting with each other as they rested above your thigh.

"I'm not uncomfortable." He shook his head, finally peeling his eyes away to look at yours. "I thought you were trying to kill me at first." He shrugged, looking back down.

"Oh," You nervously laughed, trying to wait patiently for him to hand it back.

"Where'd you learn how to draw?" He asked curiously, finally closing the notebook and handing it back to your shaking hands.

You shrugged, "Just something I taught myself over the years." You explained, stuffing the notebook into your bag.

"If you ever draw me again, you should show me." He wasn't suggesting it, he was hoping it.

You nodded before watching him walk away, only realizing he hadn't given the charcoal piece to you until he was out of sight.

reposts and comments are appreciated <3

[rezwrites]

Getting sick or in an accident to the point you’re at death’s door. Pleading in your unconscious state to anyone, anything that’s listening to spare you. Surprised you see a woman kneeling in front you, you cry begging her to spare you, you don’t even know if she can help you but you’re just desperate to live. Her face shows pity as she stares down at you. Slowly she stands and walks away.

Waking up at the hospital was a shock to you. In your fear-confused riddled mind you chose to believe that woman was Death. Your belief only solidifies when you spot her among the crowd at family funerals or at horrid accident scenes-It’s too much of a coincidence. Eventually you’ll see her around too frequently always locking eyes with you. A few days on and off. Some days she’ll be close enough to touch you, others so far you’ll miss her by a second. Or she’ll just disappear for months on end before coming back out of nowhere.

Always leaving you wandering how long you’ll be locked in this dance with Death.

[muxshwriting]

the winner takes it all

Nico Rosberg x Hamilton!reader

summary: after 2016, nico cut you and your brother off. you reach out to him, wanting him to know you would always be his || warnings: slight angst, abandonment, threats || word count: 1328 || masterlist

It had been a hectic year, dating your brother's teammate who he was currently rivals with. The boys you'd grown up with had changed and evolved and grown ever more distant from each other. You'd spent most of the season juggling your emotions, trying not to celebrate too much when either of them one so the other didn't feel upset.

But as Nico crossed the line as World Champion, you couldn't hide your elation. The moment he was out of the car, he was jumping into the arms of his team. A part of your heart aches for Lewis, your brother, knowing how hard he had worked for this Championship, only to lose at the last second. But the pure joy that flowed through you dictated your actions as you threw yourself at Nico as he cheered. He pulled off his helmet, holding your head in his hands and pulling you in for a kiss.

"You won!" You're shouting over the crowd but Nico is nodding and grinning like a kid all over again.

"I won!"

Behind him, Lewis was watching his own sister congratulate the man who had just ruined his life instead of comforting her brother. How can Nico be so smug about taking everything Lewis had dreamed of? He was so nonchalant throughout interviews, as if he knew this was always meant to happen. But Lewis couldn't stop himself feeling bitter.

Nico could have the championship, Lewis could earn himself another. But Nico would not take everything from him, he would not take his sister. He watched his team celebrate from the sidelines, watched as his sister kissed and danced with the man she loved, the man he now hated. Tonight would be the last night he would come anywhere near his sister.

Whatever your brother did, you certainly noticed its affects even if you didn't know the reasoning behind them. Nico did not speak to again after the night he won the championship. Or any day after that.

In the beginning, you just assumed he was busy with interviews and stories, too busy to text you back or find the time to come and see you. But as time went on and he declined all your calls, it became obvious this wasn't a time issue. This was something else.

No matter where you went in Monaco, you could not find him. He didn't frequent the places you had shared, stayed away from your work and ignored anything you tried to reach out with.

"I don't understand Lew, he's not the kind of person that would do this, I don't know what happened." You're sitting in your brother's apartment, binging episodes of a random reality show and trying to figure it out.

"Maybe he thought he was too good now he's won the championship." Lewis felt bad for his sister, yes. But he was also glad Nico had realised what was good for him.

You wipe away tears. "We always talked about life after the championship was over, whether he won or you did. We were gonna move in together, take some time for ourselves, figure out if this was forever..."

"He mustn't think it was forever then."

"Then he should've told me that to my face, not completely blank me."

Two weeks later, by sheer coincidence you're sitting in the cafe you and Nico had often visited and he walked through the doors. He didn't notice you at first, ordering a takeaway and waiting by the counter. Quietly, you pack your bag and stand by the door, trying to catch him on his way out.

"Nico!"

He said nothing, his eyes widening as he recognised you. Nodding politely, he tried to push past you, not meeting your eyes.

"Nico?"

He finally met your gaze, swallowing the lump in his throat. "It's good to see you Y/N. I -"

"You’re gonna stay the fuck away from my sister, alright? I don’t want you to talk to her ever again."

"Lewis-"

"No! You won't talk to either of us again. You're nothing. You don't deserve her, and the sooner you realise that, the better off she is. She knows she's better off without you."

"Can we talk?" You ask.

Nico shakes his head. "There's nothing to talk about." He walks out the door but you follow.

"We need to talk about it Nico." You implore him. "Nico?"

"There's nothing to say."

"There's plenty to say Nico. Listen to me, please! I loved you, I still love you." You say. "Even after everything that happened, I never stopped. Why did you stop letting me see you?"

"Lewis told me to stay away. And you're better without me-"

"What?"

Nico turned to face you. "Lewis? He told me that you would be better without me, that you said that."

You're face is plastered with confusion. "Lewis told you not to talk to me? But- I never said that. Why does Lewis think he can control who I love?" As you were speaking, the anger grew. "Why did you listen to him?"

"Because he's right. You deserve more than me."

"Don't say that!" You quickly reply. "I don't care what my brother thinks, you are the world champion. You deserve everything, especially me! He can have any model he wants, all the races, all the wins, all the championships but I want you. I want to have you and I want to be happy with you."

Nico’s expression sours. “We’re not doing this here, not now.”

"I want you!" You yell after him, not caring who else heard. "Only you."

"Your brother-"

"Stop talking about my brother!" You beg him. "Please, I love you Nico."

He sighs, running a hand down his face. "Alright," he gestures you to follow him, "We need to talk somewhere more private."

Silently agreeing, you grabbed his hand and led him through the winding streets of Monaco until you reached his apartment building. He hadn't moved yet and as he unlocked the door, you let yourself admire the man you would always love. Nothing inside the apartment had changed except the pictures hanging on the wall.

Nico had a wall of pictures that you had helped him create. They were moments from his karting career, his life and his relationship with you. There was a new picture in pride of place at the very top of the wall, the place he put his favourite. It was a picture of the day he won his championship, a picture of you and him in a lovers embrace, confetti falling around you and sweat dripping from his hair. It was the perfect picture that captured everything you and him were.

"That's new." You point to the picture and look at Nico hopeful.

"Yeah." He smiles. "The team photographer sent me the original and I couldn't think of a better place to put it."

You took the chance and stepped closer to Nico, almost pressing your body against his. You felt the sharp intake of breath from him as he tucked a loose hair behind your ear.

"Are you sure?"

You're nodding before he's even finished. "We're gonna move in together, and take some time for us. And I know it's going to work because this is what I want in forever. I want you to my forever."

"Will you marry me?" He whispered the question like he didn't quite believe what he was saying.

"Yes." You immediately answer before Nico can backtrack. "Yes. Please."

Nico stepped back and shook his head slightly. "Wait- Y/N, just wait. I don't know why I said that."

"Are you trying to take it back?"

"No!" He hurriedly corrects. "I think we need to go slow. I haven't talked to you in three weeks."

"Three weeks don't matter, we know each other, we know that this works. Why do we have to wait?"

Nico couldn't hide his smile as he dipped his head to press his lips against yours.

"Why wait indeed..."

[vennilavee]

diet pepsi

written for @ficsforgaza!! the prompts were squirting + nagi seishiro from blue lock. wc is ~3k (sorry)

warnings: oc is kind of a stalker

A familiar username pops up in Nagi Seishiro’s periphery, showering him with bits once again. As far as he remembers, fairygrl777 has shown up in every single livestream he’s done since he started. He usually streams when he plays video games, or if he has a quick twenty minutes before practice. 

But fairygrl777 always shows up, without fail. When he’s playing video games, he tries to answer as many questions as he can even if he’s on a timed side quest. All these strangers seem to be enthralled by watching him quietly play Overwatch or Final Fantasy, for some strange reason. 

Fairygrl777 doesn’t just send bits, chats and cute emojis to him, but when Nagi is feeling particularly exasperated by the gameplay and complains about how annoying this particular mission is, they always talk him down. Or tell him what the next step in the game is. He supposes they’ve already beaten it. 

Little does he know that fairygrl777 didn’t sleep for thirty-six hours in an attempt to finish this game for that exact reason.

Fairygrl777’s little fairy wings pop up on MapleStory as a mage, too, one of Nagi’s secret guilty pleasures. Sometimes he likes to do missions with her, his illium mage running alongside her ice and lightning arch mage.

It’s just footyboi7 and fairygrl777 spending time in the Secret Garden before standing in the Kerning Tower together. 

Fairygrl777: <3 how romantic… it’s almost like we’re holding hands isnt it

Footyboi7: if u say so

Fairygrl777: :) 

Fairygrl777’s icy blue hair and sword has become a comforting presence to him. It’s quite often that he finds himself trotting after you in the game, his bow tight in his character’s hand. The hours seem to fade away with her excited chatter in the chat as they both collect mesos and finish jobs together.

Sometimes he leaves abruptly, but fairygrl777 never says anything. Out of the two of them, she talks more than he does in the chat.

Nagi is curious what her voice sounds like- he bets she sounds ethereal, like the translucent wings on her back.

It must be a coincidence, how fairygrl777 is almost always online when he is. Or how she never seems to miss one of his rare livestreams.

Nagi shrugs. It’s just a sheer coincidence.

Nerves seize you the moment you exit the train and head for the platform, though you’d classify them more as excited butterflies than true nerves. It’s like you’ve been here before, even though you’ve never set foot on English soil in your life. 

All you’re relying on is Nagi Seishiro’s vague retelling of the area.

It doesn’t take long for you to make your new apartment in Manchester your own. The apartment was already somewhat furnished, so all that’s left is to decorate it. Trinkets sit on top of your desk, matching the rugs adorning your floors.

You absently wonder if you asked Nagi in the chat to help you move furniture in, would he have helped you? 

You sit on your bed after you unpack all your things and inhale deeply. This is your life now. 

Before the anxiety of being alone in a brand new country can wash over you, you take in a deep, deep inhale of the crisp, autumn air from the open window. Leaves have already begun falling, shades of burgundy and marigold settling tenderly along the roadside.

It’s overcast in Manchester today, but you are in high, bright spirits.

The apartment you’re renting for an indefinite period of time isn’t too far from the Manshine City stadium- only a fifteen minute ride on the rail. You’ve nearly the path to the surrounding parks and already researched what restaurants and grocery stores you may frequent during your time in Manchester.

It’s meant to be a fresh start for you, after all. A new country, a new city. A new you, with new friends, new lovers. A fresh start from your old, doldrum routine you had been desperate to escape.

If you only had five minutes, you could show Nagi Seishiro how well you’d be together. You could mold yourself into the perfect partner for him. Who knows better than you what he needs?

You could be anything he wants, like a blank canvas waiting to be filled in. You want him to fill you in with broad brushstrokes and streaks of color.

The timing has to be perfect. You trust that it will happen, that he will notice you. You just have to be patient. You can’t be too much or too little. You have to be just right to pique his interest and keep him curious for more.

Perfect. You will be perfect when the universe opens the door for you.

“Don’t you recognize me, Seishiro-chan?” your voice is sickly sweet.

“No, am I supposed to?” Nagi tilts his head to the side and you giggle, the sound reminding him of a windchime.

“I’ve been to all of your games since I moved here and watched all of your streams,” you reply, nudging his shoulder with your own. Nagi’s eyebrows raise as he traces your face, trying to place where he knows you from.

“You’re not the first or the last girl to do all that,” he mutters, “What is it? Do you want a drink or something?”

“If you’re offering,” you shrug, “Just a diet pepsi for me.” He turns his back to you and leans against the bartop, waiting to get the bartender’s attention.

The bar is packed with Manshine City players, security and the lucky few fans who were able to get through the crowd and into the bar. Purple and blue lights bounce off of Nagi’s perfectly tousled locks  in waves, making his eyes look softer than they actually are.

If you pretend hard enough, Nagi Seishiro could be your boyfriend. You could easily lean against him, feel him relax against your touch as the warmth of his hands wraps around your waist like gentle vines.

But instead, he stands a few inches away from you, his handsome face drawn forward and looking away from you. He taps on the bartop impatiently with his credit card, long fingers curled around the piece of plastic tightly.

Nagi huffs, turning to you with ire in his eyes.

“This is taking forever,” he complains.

“Maybe you should be a little more patient,” you reply, gesturing for him to give his order to the bartender. The bartender rolls his eyes at Nagi. He definitely heard his complaint. You get lost watching the planes of Nagi’s face, the curve of his nose and the depth of his eyes. 

Your fingers brush against his accidentally. You hardly notice his fingers linger.

“Patience pays off, I guess,” you joke when he hands you a drink.

“I guess,” he echoes.

“Everything has its sacrifice,” you reply, looking him dead in the eyes. Recognition flashes across his face momentarily but it goes as quickly as it comes. Where has he heard that before? It sounds so familiar, but he can’t quite place it.

The intensity in your eyes lessens before you offer him another sugary, sweet smile. It’s mismatched on your face, like a piece of a puzzle that doesn’t quite fit. It would be unnerving if he didn’t think you were cute.

“Thanks for the drink, Seishiro-chan,” you chirp, “Cheers to new friends!”

“Friends? I’d hardly call us friends,” Nagi says sincerely.

“Maybe something more?” you tease.

“More? Like best friends?” 

Nagi thinks of Reo briefly, catching a glimpse of the man’s violet locks. The back of his head indicates that he seems agitated by something.

You don’t reply, instead peering at him from the top of your glass while you take a large sip. Nagi decides not to shake you away for the time being, basking in your attention and allowing you to cling to every word he says.

His eyes catch onto your forearm when you adjust your purse. He lingers at the patch of newly exposed skin, peering curiously at the not so hidden tattoo inked. 

It’s a pair of icy blue fairy wings, so small that if he wasn’t paying attention, he’d miss it. His dewy lips part curiously, a question bubbling on the tip of his tongue. But Nagi cannot find the words to ask it.

“Wanna see? You can touch, you know,” you say easily, “You just have to ask.”

“Can I?”

You nod and Nagi allows his thumb to glaze over your smooth, warm skin and over your tattoo. What you don’t say is that it’s a relatively new tattoo, only about six weeks old. To commemorate your move to a new country.

His touch his gentle but you shiver at the concentration captured in his baby brown eyes. The buzz of the bar fade away with each second he holds your gaze and you refuse to be the first one to break.

Nagi can hear Reo now, chiding him for what he’s about to do next-

“Wanna get out of here and go back to my place?” he says, taking your empty glass and placing it on the bartop.

“How romantic,” the familiarity of your words rings a bell in his head, “Thought you’d never ask.”

Nagi ignores Reo’s calls and texts, the buzzing on his phone incessant in his pocket in favor of pressing you against his closed bedroom door. He refuses to let you get too far, his lips chasing yours the moment he entered his apartment. You taste sweet, like his favorite cherries and vanilla, and he forgets to breathe for a minute when you bite his bottom lip.

He pulls away for a minute, devouring your smudged lip gloss and gilded eyes reverently. The depth of his gaze makes you excited, as if he’s devouring you slowly. 

You’ve sprayed on his favorite perfume. You hope he unwraps you with his teeth.

“Can I take this off?” he says hoarsely, tugging at your blouse.

“Duh, but,” you look at his pants, “Are you sure you don’t want to get that?”

His phone is still vibrating. 

“Sorry, babe, let me just get this,” he kisses your cheek in apology and you nod, getting comfortable on his bed. 

“What the fuck do you want, I’m busy,” Nagi nearly snarls into the phone.

“Did you go home with-”

Nagi turns his head, only to see you unbuttoning your blouse with a shy smirk. His throat goes dry and he gulps as you lean back once you’re completely bare. Your warm skin glows with the dim lights of the bedroom. He’s itching to touch you.

“No, I gotta go,” he says quickly and hangs up, ignoring Reo’s protests as his phone falls ot the floor carelessly. 

“Come here, Seishiro-chan,” you murmur, spreading your legs for him to rest in between them. He’s impatient, eager to touch you and run his hands all over your heated skin. 

Nagi’s breaths are bruising as he licks his reverence against your skin. You pretend that this is not the first time he scales your body with his hands, that his touch is that of something more than a lover. It’s easy to pretend when his fingers shake as he fumbles with the button of your jeans. It’s easy when he licks into your mouth and presses his clothed hips to yours.

He doesn’t know where to look first, so he lifts your hips easily and tugs your jeans off. His breath hitches when he catches the expanse of your thighs in his tight, strong grip. The sigh that leaves your parted lips washes over Nagi like a wave.

He wants to hear more of you. More.

Something sits on the tip of your tongue and it escapes your throat in the form of a breathy gasp of his name. Your belly curls at the heat in his dark, grey eyes. 

His body is taut, lean from hours and hours of training and practice. Your fingers ghost over his chest. Goosebumps rise on his skin. You reach for the belt buckle of his pants, but he stops you with a warm hand on your wrist.

You shiver at the strength concealed in those fingers.

“Are you sure about this?” Nagi rasps, his tongue feeling dry in your throat. He feels a bit depraved, for how much he wants to touch you, to claw at your heated skin and close the space between you both. He is hungry, the desire to consume you nearly overwhelming him.

You see it in his glassy eyes. The desperation for a release.

He won’t move, won’t give in to the friction that your skin grants to him. You place your foot on his chest, toes freshly done in a pretty dark blue, and nod at him with a soft smile.

It looks misplaced on the planes of your pretty face. Nagi can’t shake the odd sense of familiarity in you, can’t help but lean into it. Lean into you.

“Yeah,” your voice is choked by your own desire, “I’m sure. Are you sure?”

“God, yes-”

“You don’t need to bring god into this-”

Nagi kisses your ankle gently, a stark difference from the blazing look in his usually resolute eyes. Butterflies flutter around in your belly and he keeps eye contact with you as he kisses up your calf. It’s sweet, for someone that you just met.

You fall into the fantasy even more, unseen fairy wings taking you higher and higher.

He cradles you, his arms bracketing your head and your legs wrapping lazily around his waist as he presses a deep, bruising kiss to your lips. You chase his kiss, refusing to let him go too far and rolling your clothed hips into his. 

“Ugh, you’re pretty…”

You preen at his praise, unable to stop a smile from forming on your lips as you kiss him again. You bite on his bottom lip before slipping your tongue into his mouth obscenely, swallowing his groan and locking it deep in your chest.

You could pretend that he just confessed his love for you. You throb with longing.

He traces the shape of you with his hands, chasing with his lips before slipping you out of your panties. He holds you as if you’d disappear into the night, like you’d fly away on the wings of the tattoo burned onto your arm.

You’d stay here forever to convince him that he loves you.

The reverie is jostled when you hear his phone buzzing on the floor again, calling out to Nagi. But he ignores it and doesn’t allow you to question it, instead licking and soothing his way down your navel and your hips. 

He knows you, you think happily, he really knows you. How else would he know how to kiss you, how to mouth at you in a way that has you seeing stars and curling your toes. He stares at you as his tongue nudges your wetness, swallowing every sweet drop of you that he can. He laps at you with a ferocity that you’ve only seen when he’s on the field.

Maybe Nagi sees you as a prize. The thought sends a bolt of heat straight down your spine.

Nagi looks at your pussy in wonder before spitting directly on it and rubbing your clit languidly, searching your pretty face for the tell-tale gasp of his name that tells him where to go by following the sounds of your breaths.

You don’t know where to look, and instead grip his blonde hair with enough bite to make him hiss. You writhe in his hold, feeling balmy coils burn in your belly as he slithers his hand within yours.

“You’re so wet,” Nagi mutters to himself. Or to you, maybe. He doesn’t let go, always touching and pressing some part of you as you bloom in his hold. Like a lotus. He wraps his lips around your clit eagerly, like a trained puppy.

Your eyes meet his eyes as he pushes a long finger inside of you while he drinks from you. Nagi is reminded of sweet nectar, unable to get enough. He is starving for you, for you to whimper his name again. Pushing down on your hips as you writhe in his hold, he allows himself to feast on you.

“Make me cum, Seishiro,” you gasp feverishly, “Oh, I’m so close…”

It’s agonizing, how hard he is. Nagi wants to sink into you, fill you to the brim with his cock. Split you open, see your eyes roll back to your head. But before he can do that, before he can bring you to sweet rapture, he needs you to unravel all around him.

He brings you to the precipice, bringing you so, so close. He’s never heard the sounds your pretty pussy makes with anyone else, the way his fingers curl tightly in you makes you jolt. But you don’t beg him to stop.

An aching begins to burn in your belly. You don’t recognize the feeling, but you let him continue to devour you with hungry lips. The sounds that he pulls from you- from your throat, from your pussy- are filthy. Enough for your face to burn, if you weren’t so fixated on how swollen his lips were and how he belongs in between your legs.

You gush all around him with no warning, coating his lower face with your cum and your wetness. Nagi pulls away with wide eyes, as if he can’t believe it. The blanket below your body is soaked, but he doesn’t care.

“Woah,” he says, “Did you just…”

“Yeah. I’ve never… done that before,” you reply. Your legs feel like jelly and you’re seeing stars at behind your eyes as you try to catch your breath. Nagi looks at you like you’re a meal and he’s ravenous.

“Let’s see if you can do that again,” Nagi says, looming over you with a tenacious look in his eye.

“Whatever you want, Seishiro,” you say easily with a disarming smile, tugging him closer to you, “I’m yours to use however you want.”

“Hey, call me sometime?” you say, pressing a post-it with your phone number on it to his chest, “Or, you know. Maybe I’ll just see you on Maple Story?”

Nagi’s lips part in surprise, his breath catching in his throat. There’s no way that you’re fairygrl777. That would be an insane coincidence… But the tattoo, the way you know what bars he frequents, when he’s online…

Maybe Reo was right to try to interrupt him all night. Something somber washes over him, keeping him rooted to the floor.

“Wait- you’re-?”

“Yup,” you pop the ‘p’ as you gather your things and head out of his apartment with a wicked smile, “See ya around, footyboi7.”

[misskattylashes]

Okay, I’m going to do it. I have been holding back and just telling my closest fandom friends my crazy theory, but what the hell. Most of you think I’m batshit anyway.

Here we go.....

What if we have been on the receiving end of a long played out psyop and Louise has been a way to make the public want Milex?

Okay, hear me out...

It’s 2017/8 Alex has abandoned Miles after EYCTE. He has gone to France to write and record TBHC, having realised their little TLSP bubble could never last (see Star Treatment). Without Alex, Miles is a little lost and lonely in LA. His reputation is also at rock bottom after the journalist incident. Miles decides he wants to move back to England, and Alex decides he wants to move back to, as we know they can never be more than a few minutes away from each other

Taylor either wouldn’t or couldn’t leave LA, so she and Alex break up. But they need a new girlfriend to keep up the straight image (especially with the new badly-received album and a world tour about to begin). On the original version of OPP as seen on the AM in Mexico video, over the turtle segment Alex sings ‘One More Year I’ll Call It Quits’ maybe the plan was to give it all up,but he had signed a contract to do another album and tour after TBHC, and with Miles’ reputation so bad, if they were together then they would both be cancelled.

So a European girlfriend is found and this is where the subterfuge begins. We start with old Instagram posts with tags like #alexturnerwillyoumarryme, then we get professionally shot videos of her backstage at AM’s concert (all the time Alex is ‘still with’ Taylor) so as soon as they launch, the first image of Louise the public get is a negative one, as a fangirl who has set out to get Alex, not caring if he cheats in his current girlfriend.

Before I list the reasons why I think she is fake, can I say this idea he has stayed with her as punishment for cheating on Taylor is absolutely ridiculous. Men who are serial cheats aren’t known for wearing hairshirts. Especially when you’re a handsome, wealthy rock star who could easily get another girlfriend.

So, the idea is, Louise is the most unpleasant person who makes Alex miserable, and if most people are honest, they want Alex to be happy..

So, let’s look at the evidence..(where there is a * it means there is a Miles counterside)

Louise doesn’t work. She claims to be a feminist, but her job seems to be being Alex’s girlfriend.

She openly copies selfies posed by previous girlfriends, making her look like she has no personality of her own

She boasts in her IG posts ie the ‘we just fucked’ pic and the panties on the piano.

She claims to be a musician but we rarely see her writing or recording anythjng.*

She writes embarrassing things about itAlex on social media (beautiful dick).*

Openly takes a neutral stance on Palestine.

Claims to wear vintage clothes but they rarely are*

When Alex was ill after the third London show, it is publicised that he leaves the Emirates with his parents, no sign of Louise. She’s too busy taking pics in the hotel with Matt and Amanda

Meanwhile Miles has worked hard on his public image. He has shown he is a hard worker. He rarely mentions Alex on social media and when asked about him in interviews, whilst admitting they are good friends, is insistent they are not working together. Which is good because he has always been accused of riding on Alex’s fame.

He frequently gives updates when he his writing and recording, treating us to little snippets, something Louise never does.

Is it a coincidence that holiday gate is the same as the week One Man Band’s release. Alex looking miserable with Louise Vs Miles being charming and hard working.

Not long after Louise starts going on about her fake vintage, Miles posts a whole real of him going proper vintage shopping so he looks authentic.

Even in Dublin there is no duet with Alex. Miles not using Alex’s,fame,but also those who monitor social media can see how hungry they are for Milex interaction.

The river Mersey comment – another way of guaging public opinion. Finally the legion of doom 😍😍 comment on the NY recent. The fandom went crazy at Milex acknowledgement.

Alex....

His face..Alex is a pro. He has had twenty years of faking smiles after arguments with the other Monkeys, girlfriends, even Miles. He could fake a smile with Louise if we wanted to when they call their friends at Backgrid to take pap pictures. But instead he chooses to look like someone either on the verge of tears or else being held hostage. And in the latest set of pics, Louise looks the same.

The Taylor tattoo....it looks like he thinks so little of her he has kept that tattoo.

‘I don’t wanna be hers, I wanna be yours’ quite often at gigs where Louise is in attendance.

Not one song on the car written about her.

And now of course with the tour over, a lot of people return to watching TLSP videos. Happy, muscly, healthy looking Alex having fun with Miles as opposed to skinny, miserable Alex trapped with Louise.

Apart from Louise’s most ardent fans, most people want to see him away from her and would be overjoyed at a TLSP reunion, and for us Milexers, a declaration of their love.

So, has this been a long game? A way of making the people think they want Milex? I told you it was crazy, but just remember the world of public relations is completely underhand and insane.

[xndrexcruz]

I beg pls make more Marc Bernal fanfics 🛐

Starting to Slowly See You

✮- pairing: marc bernal x barca staff fem!reader

✮- summary: as you navigate your position at fc barcelona, marc’s thoughtful gestures and quiet support slowly make you question if there’s more to your friendship than you realized. though his feelings remain unspoken, subtle hints leave you wondering if you’ve been missing something all along.

✮- warnings: slow burn and kinda oblivious reader

✮- author’s note: thank you sm for the request! i hope you like it, also sorry for not being active and not updating in a while i just started my college classes and i feel like they’re tryna kill us already. ALSOOO thank you sm for 200 followers love you guys

✮- chapter’s: {current!} next ⤏

Working at FC Barcelona is more than just a job-it was a dream come true. But the early mornings, late nights, and constant work could get exhausting. If there’s one thing that made things easier, it was Marc Bernal. He’s always around, in subtle ways that sometimes would make you wonder if all of it was just a coincidence.

You would often cross paths during his breaks from training with the rest of the team. He’d sometimes walk into your office, sweaty and tired, yet he always made time to say hi or talk to you even if it was for a few minutes. You often found him leaning against your desk, a charming smile on his face as he asks about how your day was or offering to help you on whatever you were working on at the time. You appreciated the company, even though you didn’t quite understand why he always seemed to go out of his way for you.

One day, after an exhausting session, Marc came in with a bottle of water and a berry parfait, setting them on your desk with a small grin. “I thought you might need a pick-me-up,” he said casually, though his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than usual.

“Thank you, Marc,” you replied, flashing him a grateful smile before getting back to your work. You had never really noticed the way he watched you, a soft expression always on his face, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words.

As the days continue to pass, these small but sweet gestures started to become more frequent. He brings you coffee when you had long meetings, waits for you after work just to walk you to your car, or would show up with your favorite snack when he knows you’ve been stressed out. You always excused his behavior as him being a good friend-after all, that’s what friends did, right?

One evening, after most of the staff had left to go to their families, you stayed behind at your desk, trying to finish up on a report you had due the next morning. The office is quiet, the only noice was the faint hum of the air conditioning in the building. You’re so focused on your report you didn’t notice Marc slowly enter the until he was right next to you.

“You’re still here?” he asks, startling you. “You work way too hard, Y/n, you should get home.”

You look up at him and smile, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest at the sound of his voice. “I’m just trying to get this done before tomorrow morning, I’ll go home once i’m done. What about you? Shouldn’t you be at home resting?”

He shrugs, leaning against your desk like he would every time he came into your office. “I thought I’d check on you before I left. See if you needed me to get you anything.”

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his words. “You’re always constantly checking on me, Marc. You worry too much.”

“Maybe I do,” he says softly, his chestnut-brown eyes holding yours off a second too long. There’s something in his gaze, something that makes your heart skip a beat, but before you can try figuring it out, he straightens up and throws you a smile. “But someone has to look out for you.”

You shake your head at his words, amused by his protectiveness. “I’m okay, really. But thanks for being so thoughtful. It means a lot to me.”

“Anytime,” he replies, his smile softening. “I’ll come see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” you say, watching him as he walks out of your office. You can’t help but feel a wave of warmth spread through you, but you just brushed it off as just Marc being the sweet guy he always was.

As the weeks pass by, you start noticing other small things too. Like how he’d always linger just a bit longer when he says goodbye, or how his touches-whether it was a hand on your shoulder or a brief brush past your fingers-seem to carry more weight than it did before. He was always there, throughout your day, quietly always supporting you in ways that were both comforting yet confusing.

It wasn’t until one particular day, after a long and challenging day, that you had finally started to piece things together. You’re packing up to leave for the day when Marc appeared at your side, like usual.

“You did real,y great today,” he spoke, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “Everyone was impressed, especially with how you handled that crisis.”

You smile tiredly at him. “Thank you, I’m just glad it’s over now.”

“How about I take you out for dinner tonight to celebrate?” he asks, a hopeful look in his eyes.

You hesitated, a familiar flutter in your chest. “Dinner? I don’t know Marc…”

“We can keep it simple,” he suggests, his tone light. “Just a quick bite, it’s nothing fancy. I just… I thought it would be nice.”

There was something in the way he said it that made you pause. For the first time, you wonder if there was more to his constant attention towards you, his thoughtful gestures, than you finally realized it. Was there something he wasn’t saying? Something you had been to blind to see?

“Okay,” you agreed softly, watching as his face lit up with a smile. “Dinner with you would be nice.”

As you sat across from him in the cozy restaurant he has chosen, you find yourself focusing on him more closely than you ever have before. The way he seemed to always know exactly what you need, the way he would look at you like you’re the only person in the room, the way he never pressured you but was always present, waiting, hoping.

You couldn’t be,o but wonder if there was something deeper behind all of it-something he’s been trying to tell you without actually having to say it. But even as the thoughts consumed your mind, you pushed it aside. Marc is your colleague, your friend, someone you can always count on. It was probably nothing more than that… right?

As the night went on, Marc’s laughter and easy conversation made you forget all your worries, and by the time ge walks you towards your car, your smiling ear to ear. But just as you’re about to say goodnight, he does something that makes your heart skip a beat.

He reaches out and gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary. “Goodnight, Y/n,” he spoke softly, his voice low yet husky filled with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Goodnight, Marc,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. As you drove home, his touch lingered against your skin, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to Marc Bernal than meets the eye. But in the meantime, you decide to leave it as it is, happy to keep things as they are for now, even if your heard would beat faster whenever he was near.