#knife plus heart

[spookytuesdaypod]

queen of serving looks, setting boundaries, and saving lives 😍

[goldenhare]

[outfitposts]

[nerdstreak]

did some of those relationship web charts for my ovw blorbos and s/is for funsies! feel free to ask about any of em!

[clits-and-clips]

To take a sleeping tablet or to not take a sleeping tablet, that is the question

[donnatarttapologist]

god i don't wanna be sober no more

[itsallyscorner]

At Fault | MV1

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: Max invites his ex to a gp and upsets you. Soft and stubborn Max, but he’s a cutie. A mix between angst and fluff, but mostly fluff towards the end. Lots of reader just ranting. Plus a little cameo from the Ferrari WAGs <3.

warnings: Does Kelly count as a warning? Kinda of toxic, I’m not really sure? But who actually likes seeing their boyfriend’s ex girlfriend??

author’s note: Italics are flashbacks! This turned out longer than expected, but I hope you guys like it! It’s also been a while since I’ve written fics, so it there are any errors pls ignore them😭

The tension in the car was thick. So thick, Max believed he could cut it with a knife.

Your arms were crossed as you stared out the window while Max glanced at you wearily every other second. Thankfully, there were only three of you in the car. You and Max in the backseat, and the driver in front being separated by a divider. Though, Max was sure the driver was able to hear the current disagreement between you and him.

Max fidgeted with the lanyard of his paddock pass and stared at the side of your face. He knew he had upset you and honestly you had every right to be. You were biting the inside of your cheek in frustration trying to keep your emotions at bay. As much as you wanted to argue with Max about how you disagreed with his actions, he was due to race in a couple of hours and you didn’t want to add any more stress on his shoulders.

But Max wanted to talk about this now while you were both alone.

“Schatje, are you really mad?” Max asked quietly, leaning closer to you and trying to get you to face him. He truly didn’t mean to dampen your mood before the race. Most importantly, he didn’t like that he was the reason for you being upset. Your brows furrowed ever so slightly and a faint pout was on your lips, both indications that you were in fact not happy with him.

“Yes, Max, I am mad.” You answered, your voice trembling a bit. You had finally turned away from the window and were looking at him. Max felt a pang of guilt in his heart once he saw the look in your eyes. They weren’t glaring at him with the heat of anger, but they were soft and glossy, you were hurt—he hurt you.

Max cautiously reached out for your hand and tangled your fingers together, though your hand felt limp, like you didn’t want to hold his hand at all.

“I told you the truth.” Max said, leaning his head down trying to catch your eyes again. You took in a deep breath before turning to fully face him.

“Yes Max, you did and I absolutely appreciate it. I really do.” You began, grasping his hand between yours. “But that doesn’t make up for that fact that you’ve had this planned out for nearly a month and only told me thirty minutes ago!” You argued.

Thirty minutes ago, before your ride to the paddock can pick you guys up, Max had revealed that his ex-girlfriend, Kelly, and her daughter would be at the garage to watch the race. When you asked how they got passes to the garage, he shared that he had flown them out and provided them with passes for the weekend.

“So she’s been here all weekend?” You questioned him, arms crossed and a brow raised at him. The Italian heat felt even ten times worse as you grew frustrated with your boyfriend.

“Yeah, but they were at the Paddock Club, they’re going to watch the race from the garage though.” Max shrugged, as if it were not a big deal. He adjusted the bag on his shoulder and grasped your hand in his free one.

You couldn’t help the feeling of insecurity seeping into your bones. Kelly was rich and gorgeous, she was a model, and you weren’t. You had a normal job that offered you stability, paid you good money, and you knew how to clean up nice. However, you were no where near her level of anything or any of the other WAGs at that.

“You’ve known this whole time that she was here?” You asked quietly, your brows furrowed at him. You hated that you kept asking him questions, it was like you were interrogating him.

Max looked down at you, confusion etched on his face, “I did, schatje. I flew them out and got them some paddock passes.” You acted before you could speak, and shook your head at him, rolling your eyes in annoyance. Your boyfriend was one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met, however, many people took that as a sign to take advantage of him. While it took him longer to realize it, you noticed it instantly.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset though, I told you the truth, it’s not like I’m doing anything with her.” Max defended himself, his hands wildly moving around. “She reached out telling me that P missed me and wanted to come to a race, it’s not for her, it’s for Penelope.”

“I understand that Max and as harsh as this sounds, Penelope isn’t your responsibility. I get that you helped raise her, but you guys broke up, you don’t need to provide for her anymore.” You threw a hand in the air, emphasizing your point. “Kelly’s fully capable of flying herself out and buying tickets to a race weekend.”

“I was just being nice.” Max raised his voice, also growing frustrated with the situation.

“And she’s still using you!” You fumed, tears welled in the corner of your eyes. “How many times does she have to use you for you to realize it? You guys broke up and she still manages to get what she wants out of you! Do you know how embarrassing it is to walk in and see her there?” You tried to reason with him. While many of his fans didn’t approve of Kelly, you knew Twitter would have a field day clowning you when they find out Kelly was present in the garage. Social media was never always a nice place and you’ve learned to ignore it, but that didn’t mean it stopped the hate from happening.

Max ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

“This is ridiculous.” He muttered under his breath, you scoffed and leaned back into your seat, staring at the window again.

“Do you not trust me?” Max asked forcibly, staring at the side of your head again. You let out a defeated sigh and turn your head to look at him, “I do trust you, Max.”

Max’s shoulders slouched as he leaned on the seat sideways, his body fully turned to you.

“Then why do you not trust me with this?” He pushed, nudging your knee with his, trying to get an answer out of you. He knew he was at fault and he just wanted to make it right.

“I don’t trust her.” You simply answered, feeling done with the conversation. The car turned, nearing the entrance of the paddock. You sniffled as you untucked your hair from behind your ears, removing your sunglasses from the top of your head.

“You don’t have to worry about her, schatje. I want you not her, there’s a reason why we broke up.” Max reassured, trying to ease the tension between the two of you.

The car came to a halt, a knock came from the driver, indicating that you guys arrived at the paddock. Before you could leave, you turned to Max and said, “Yet, she’s still here.”

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

Entering the paddock was always a frenzy. The moment you stepped out the car, fans were quick to recognize you, knowing that one of their favorite drivers were right behind you. You slid your sunglasses on and smoothed out the white maxi dress you wore. Max followed in suit and flashed a smile at the fans.

Shouldering his bag, he held his hand out to you, “I know you’re upset, but can I please hold your hand?”

You nodded and entangled your fingers with his. The two of you began your walk into the paddock hand in hand, as fans screamed and waved at Max. He gave your hand a squeeze before guiding you guys to some of the barricades and signing a few things for the fans.

After you guys scanned your passes, Max led you guys to the Red Bull garage. However, you came to a halt. Max was quick to look back at you, “You okay?”

“Yeah—I’m gonna meet up with Alex and Rebecca, if that’s okay? We were planning on seeing each other before the race.” You tell him. A small pout formed on Max’s lips, “Oh, okay, I’ll drop you off.” He offered, still holding your hand.

You and the girls decided to meet up at the Paddock Club. In front of the entrance, Max stood in front of you.

“You’ll come to the garage to watch, right? I need you there.” He asked quietly, so that people passing by cannot hear your conversation.

You nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be there before you’re in the car.”

Max mirrored your actions, “Okay, I love you.” He pulled you in by the waist and pressed a kiss onto your forehead. You squeezed his waist in response, “I love you too.”

Max watched as you entered the building, huffing to himself, while he watched you walk further and further into the building.

Placing your sunglasses above your head, you scan the room until you see one of the girls, Alex was the first to spot you, standing in her spot and waving at you to come over.

“Coucou mon amour!” She greeted you, (Hello, my love!) immediately wrapping you in a hug. You squeal as she squeezed you, “Helloo!” You giggled. You go to greet Rebecca, who is immediately giving you a knowing look. Being the older one amongst the three of you, she was often looked up to as the older sister.

She wrapped an arm around you and smoothed your back, “What’s wrong?” She asked while you got situated in the chair beside her.

You shook your head, “It’s just Max.”

Rebecca grabbed the bottle of champagne on the table and poured some into a flute glass. She offered you the glass, “Thank you, I needed this.”

She smiled watching you take a long sip from the glass, “Oh honey, I know.”

Alex pouted and nudged your foot with hers, “What happened with Max?”

“He invited Kelly to watch the race at the garage today.” You bluntly shared, slumping yourself in your chair.

Rebecca’s eyes widened, “Shut up.”

You raised a brow at her, “Oh, I didn’t even get to the kicker yet.”

Alex’s brows raised, “Which is?”

“He flew her out—he fucking flew her out and gave her tickets for the entire weekend.” You revealed through gritted teeth, still being aware of your surroundings. Rebecca cursed under her breath as Alex took your glass and refilled it with champagne.

Grabbing the glass, you continued, “She’s literally been here all weekend and he only told me this morning. I just don’t get it, they broke up, I don’t know why he’s still so concerned about her.” You took another long sip of champagne,

“What was the reason why?” Rebecca asked you.

“Apparently Penelope missed him—which I can believe, but did he really have to do all the providing when she can financially support herself? I get that he was trying to be nice, but still.” You grunt, fiddling with your glass.

Alex comfortingly rubbed your arm, “No, I get it, if Charles did the same thing with his ex, I’d also be upset.”

“I literally told him that she’s using him once again.” You threw your hands up. “If he wants her to be there so much, he might as well just get back with her. Like—am I crazy for losing my mind at the fact they were in contact with each other, even if it wasn’t in a romantic sense?”

Rebecca shook her head, “No, your feelings are absolutely valid. You’re just concerned and it obviously caught you off guard. He shouldn’t have been texting his ex in the first place.”

You groaned and held your head in your hands, “I hate feeling like this, it makes me question if he actually wants to be with me or not.”

Rebecca held her finger up, “I’m gonna stop you right there.” Placing her hand on your shoulder she says, “Max might be acting very stupid right now, but one thing I know for sure is that Max loves you and absolutely adores you. Without a doubt.”

Alex nodded, agreeing with Rebecca, “Like have you seen the way he looks at you? He literally worships the ground you walk on. I’m sure he’s beating himself up right now for doing what he did.”

“He loves you, (y/n), everyone who’s seen you guys together knows it. I don’t think he’d put himself in this kind of position on purpose, you’ve got that man wrapped around your finger, babe.” Rebecca reassured you, throwing her arm around your shoulder and pulling you into another hug.

“Come on cheer up, who cares if she’s in the garage today? You’re the one he’s gonna be going home with tonight.” You laughed shaking your head at her teasing.

“Hey! Tonight and every single night!” Alex pointed out raising her glass at you.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

Two hours. It’s been two hours since Max has dropped you off at the Paddock Club and he still hasn’t heard back from you. He’s been distracted all day. During a meeting with Christian and some of the engineers, he couldn’t help but constantly check for a text from you, earning himself a scolding from the team principal. Checo and a couple of people from the team tried talking to him, but he wasn’t paying attention. His eyes wandered wondering when you would enter the garage.

He did in fact see Kelly and P—obviously he was expecting to see them since he invited them, but all he felt while talking to them was guilt. Guilty because he remembered the look of hurt and betrayal in your eyes and how he was the reason behind it. He hated it, he felt grimy, and dirty for going behind your back and texting Kelly. Not even ten minutes into catching up with the mother and daughter, Max realized that you were in fact correct. Kelly had used him again, instantly making advances on him despite knowing he was happily taken. But for the sake of P, Max made sure to be friendly though kept his distance to not feed into her mother’s schemes.

It was nearing lights out and you were still not in the garage. He had gone through his warm ups with Bradley, had his fireproofs and suit on, and even laced up his shoes. Still, no sight of you whatsoever in the garage. He was beginning to worry about you, sending you a couple of messages to your phone.

The car was due to be on the grid and there was about half an hour left till lights out. Max looked around the bustling garage, checking to see if you had snuck in without him seeing, though to no avail, you still weren’t there.

“Max…Max…Max?” GP tried to get Max’s attention. Snapping a finger in front of the driver’s face, Max’s eyes flickered over to his race engineer.

“What do you want now?” Max groaned, throwing his head back. To onlookers, it looked like a typical interaction between Max and GP. Though, GP felt like he was babysitting a child whose attention span couldn’t focus on one thing for more than a few seconds.

“Mate, I’ve been talking to you for the past five minutes.” GP claimed. Choosing to ignore the information he had just “briefed” Max on, he decided to be a friend.

“Where’s your head at?” GP asked Max. The Dutch man sighed, leaning against one of the storage units in the garage.

“I messed up with (y/n). I did something and it was my fault, I know it was. But she’s not happy with me at the moment and I just want to make it right.” Max summarized, not sharing any more details to protect the privacy of your relationship.

GP motioned towards Kelly who was talking to one of the other influencers in the garage, “Does it have to deal with that?”

“Unfortunately.” Max mumbled, crossing his arms and choosing to stare at the floor.

GP took a minute to stare at his driver. Max was deflated, he wasn’t as hyped for the race or over explaining some random fact about god knows what. Instead, Max kept to himself, greeting people when he had to and communicating with his team prior to the race. Other than that, Max chose to stare at his phone and look longingly outside the garage.

“Listen, I don’t know what exactly went down. But I’ve seen you with (y/n) and she clearly makes you happy, we’ve all see how lively you are with her around. You’ve got a lot of groveling to do bud, but it’ll be worth it.” GP advised, clapping Max on the back to wake him up.

“She’ll always be worth it.” Max quietly said, taking another glimpse at his phone. Only to be met with his wallpaper of you and him, with no notifications.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

Christian Horner stared at his monitor at the pit wall watching as drivers and their teams gathered on the grid. He saw Checo by his car, taking a few sips of water before the race. When the camera panned to Max’s Red Bull, the driver was no where to be seen. Sparing him a second of wondering where his driver was, the camera cut to the garage where Max stood, race suit at his waist, looking no where near ready to participate in the race.

“Why is Max not in the car?” He turned to GP, stress evident on his face. GP turned in his seat and looked back into the garage to see Max pacing. Cursing under his breath, he excused himself from Christian and rushed to Max.

“Max, the race is literally about to start!”

Max stops his pacing and places his hands at his hips, “I need my girlfriend.”

“What?” Bradley and GP both stuttered out. Max deadpanned at the two men in front of him.

“(Y/n), I need to see her before the race.” Max demanded. Bradley pinched the bridge of his nose, “Max, she’ll be here after the race, you’ll be fine.” He pushed the balaclava towards Max’s chest, who simply let the mask fall at his feet.

GP sighed at Max, before calling one of the Red Bull employees.

“Please send out a search for (y/n), Max is refusing to get in the car.” He whispered to the intern. The girl looked at him confusingly but nodded and set out the garage.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

You rushed as best as you could in kitten heels towards the Red Bull garage. You were supposed to be at the garage at least half an hour ago. You and the girls got caught up catching up with each other’s lives that none of you realized it was getting close to lights out. It truly was a funny sight, the three of you rushing out of the Paddock Club and running through the paddock like a bunch of maniacs.

“(Y/n)!” You heard someone yell. You stopped in your steps and looked around, only to see a girl dressed in Red Bull uniform. You recognized her, you believed her name was Nicole and was an intern for the team this season.

“Hey! Is Max on the grid already?” You approached her, a little sad that you missed seeing him before the race.

“No, he’s actually waiting for you. They’re sending out a search for you because he’s refusing to get in the car.” Nicole explained, placing a gentle hand on your back and guiding you through the crowd of fans and towards the garage.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

GP released a sigh of relief once he saw you enter the garage. He shoved Max’s shoulder to avert his attention to you.

“What—oh,” Max began, only to stop himself and rush towards you. You met him half way, placing a hand on his elbow.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant to stay there for too long.” You quickly apologized. Max shook his head, “I don’t care, I’m just happy you’re here.”

Your brows furrowed at him, “Why are you here? Why aren’t you in the car yet?”

Max placed both his hands on your waist with a faint blush on his cheeks, “I need my goodluck kiss.”

You paused your actions, “You’re kidding me. Max, the race is about to start in five minutes!” You scolded your boyfriend.

“Please, schatje.” He pleaded, leaning closer towards you. Other team members and guests watched the both of you, the scene in front of them peaking their interests.

You gazed up at his stormy eyes, giving in because you knew he was stubborn and wouldn’t stop until he got his way. Plus, the team would hate you if you lowered their chances of scoring points this weekend.

“Just because I kiss you doesn’t mean I’m not mad at you anymore.” You clarified quietly. His forehead nodded against yours, “I know schatje. I promise to make it up to you, I really do.”

A small smile forms on your lips, “I know, Maxie.”

Max takes that as his sign to crash his lips onto yours. One of his hands support the back of your neck while the other rests on your lower back. You smile against his lips, pulling back and placing a peck right above the small mole on his upper lip.

“I love you.” You whispered to him.

“I love you too.” He whispered back. Before you can fully pull away from him he quickly adds, “I’m serious about my promise.”

“I know, baby.” You squeeze him comfortingly. “Now get out there and win the race. Stay safe.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead as both you and GP ushered him towards his gear that’s been waiting to be put on.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

A man of his word, Max won the race. With at least a five second gap between him and Lando, your boy was top step yet once again. As much as he won, the thrill of seeing him win and crossing the finish line never got old. You celebrated every win of his as if it were his first. You’d always be proud of him, whether he got pole or not.

Many of the engineers and members of the team began to rush towards the grid, eager to greet Max once he got out the car.

Looking around, you suddenly make eye contact with Kelly, who seemed to have been sizing you up. You weren’t really sure what look was on her face, but the hints of a snarl were on her lips. With her nose stuck up in the air, you watched as she carried her daughter and began to follow the rest of the team.

“Don’t mind her. You’re the one he wants to see when he gets out that car.” A voice said from beside you. You jumped, coming face to face with Christian. Your eyes widened at your boyfriend’s boss. Prior to the race, he was informed of the search party the entire team had for you to get Max in the car. While he was annoyed earlier, he thought it was rather cute that Max was so fond of you.

“You know, he’s never begged her for a good luck kiss.” Said Christian, a knowing look on his features. “You on the other hand—he can’t seem to function whenever you’re not around.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was gonna put that much of a fight earlier today.” You apologized, feeling a bit flustered. “He’s a bit stubborn sometimes.” You added, to which Christian chuckled at.

“Oh, I know. Max and I have worked together for years.” He stated. He glanced out the garage and motioned towards it, “C’mon now, I’m sure he’s already looking for you.”

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

You make your way through the crowd of Red Bull members, many of them recognizing you and helping you squeeze through till you were at the very front of the barricade.

Max was already out, helmet in his hand, while his other embraced GP and a couple other engineers. You watched as he high-fived Penelope, barely sparing a glance at her mother. A little burst of pride went off in your stomach, you couldn’t help it.

His blue orbs scanned the crowd of red and blue, looking for you. You yell his name, his eyes immediately finding yours. A smile breaks out on his face as he rushed over to you, dropping his helmet in the process. Despite the barricade between you two, he wraps both his arms tightly around you, lifting you off the ground.

“Max!” You squealed, your arms wrapping around his neck. His large hand found your cheek, slightly pulling you away from his neck so he can connect his lips with yours. Naturally, your lips moulded perfectly against his moving in synch. The team erupted in cheers around you.

“I’m so proud of you!” You tell him once your lips separate.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” He grins, gently pinching your bottom lip between his pointer finger and thumb.

He couldn’t stay long, being told that he had to get to the podium for the trophy ceremony.

“I’ll see you after the podium, schatje!” He yelled with a wink over his shoulder, causing a blush to form on your cheeks.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

The ceremony and the media tent took a while, you finally got to see Max an hour later. You were sitting in his driver’s room, when he bursted through the door already looking for you.

You stood up, smiling at him, “Hey.”

He mirrors your smile. Placing the trophy on the couch he opens his arms for you. You walk into the comfort of his hold, burying your head into the crook of his neck and wrapping your arms around his torso.

Finally it was just the two of you.

“I’m sorry.” You said, though it came out muffled against his skin. Max’s hands stopped the circular motions they were rubbing on your back.

“For what?”

You pulled back looking at him, “I overreacted about the whole Kelly thing. I should’ve taken your word for it.”

Max immediately shook his head, disagreeing with you. “No, you were absolutely right about her. I should’ve listened to you from the beginning. The moment I said hi to them she was already trying to come onto me—I avoided her by the way, I just entertained P.”

“I’m also sorry for what I said about P. I was in the wrong for that comment.” You said, a small grimace on your face when you remembered the off hand comment you made about the poor child.

Max chuckled, “Schatje, seriously, it’s okay.”

His calloused hands were rough against the soft skin of your face. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and cradled your jaw in his hand.

“I may have a soft spot for P, but they’re in my past. You’re my future, (y/n). The future that I only want and see myself in.” Max admitted. Your eyes gleamed at him, “You’re the future I want too, Maxie.”

“Good because you’re not getting rid of me that easily. You’re stuck with me.” He joked, squeezing your cheeks.

“I love you. So much. I know it seemed like I didn’t trust you today, but I want you to know that I do. I fully trust you with my life and I mean it.” You said, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

Max nodded, “I believe you. I love you too.”

The two of you basked in the silence and comfort of being in each others arms. Max was the first one to break the silence, “You don’t have plans after this right?”

You hummed against his neck, “Besides celebrating your win, nothing. Why?”

“Because I’m taking you out on a date.” Max proudly announced, a goofy smile on his lips.

“Don’t you wanna celebrate with the team?” You asked him. Max shook his head, “Nope, the only person I want to celebrate with tonight is you.”

You giggled at Max’s antics, “Whatever you say, Champ.”

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Can you do a Clark Kent, with a mate? Maybe she gets jealous of Lois but doesn’t know why; an to get over him she tries to go out with another guy but Clark is like no. Your mine.

.⋆｡Office Crushes｡⋆.

Alpha!Clark Kent x omega!plus size reader

Little bit of Bruce Wayne x plus size reader

Your best friend has an office crush that seems to be becoming something more, maybe you should get your own office romance but not because you’re jealous- obviously

Warnings: a/b/o, jealousy, mutual pining, idiots in love, little bit of angst, protective!clark, fluff

WC: 3.1k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

It was quite common for any office to have its workers develop a sort of infatuation with each other. A confined space where you spend upwards of 40 hours a week with the same people, feelings are destined to arise, especially when it’s such a large mixture of alphas, betas and omegas. Hormones tend to go wild.

You were proud that you had never developed an office crush, knowing how disastrous it could be if the relationship ended, but you doubted your best friend could say the same. Clark had a big heart that he always wore on his sleeve and tended to attract a lot of romantic interest from practically everyone in the office. And apparently, Lois Lane was the lucky one who finally caught his eye.

A strange churning in your stomach began as you looked over the wall of your cubicle and spotted Clark leaning on the small kitchen counter, head thrown back in laughter as Lois chuckled over her now full cup of coffee. You know you should have seen it from a mile away- they were constantly paired up for articles, their chemistry was unmatched and they were by far the most attractive people in the office. You had even teased Clark on occasion for how often he met up with her after hours for some new lead, calling them dates.

Evidently, you were right. And for some reason, it was really bothering you. You felt physical disgust as Clark bent down to whisper something into the smaller omega’s ear and down right nausea as she placed a hand onto his broad chest to steady herself.

You swallowed down the bitter emotions and forced yourself to return to editing your article though a sour taste remained on your tongue. Maybe it was finally time to get your own office crush and the perfect opportunity had just landed in your inbox.

‘Bruce Wayne Interview- I trust you’ll get this done professionally’. You bit your lip at the offer, not only would an interview with Gotham’s golden boy boost your career, but whenever you had encountered the alpha before, he had always asked you out and you had always brushed him off. It was a win-win for you, and maybe it would stop the inexplicable rage you felt when you looked up and saw the goofy grin on Clark’s face as he sat back down at his desk.

Your nose wrinkled as you caught Lois’s scent clinging to him. Your fingers flew across the keyboard as you quickly sent a response back to your boss, accepting the offer. 

You just needed a distraction and then everything would go back to normal.

——————

The tension in the conference room at the top of Wayne Enterprise was so thick you swore you could cut it with a butter knife. You cleared your throat and tugged down your pencil skirt, over-aware of just how high it sat on your plump thighs as you reclined in one of the many expensive seats in the room. 

Bruce’s eyes flicked down to where your hands were curled into the material of the skirt and then back to your eyes but not before stopping very briefly at your lips. “Mr Wayne-“ You began again, glancing at your notepad. The small talk had gone well as did the customary chit chat about any new scandal he happened to have instigated and the photos of the both of you for the article.

“Bruce please, I think we’re far beyond that now.” He winked and you swore that his tone held a bit of a teasing purr. Your stomach flipped at the blatant attention from the alpha but it quickly dropped as yet another wave of thick, bitter scent filled the room making you cringe away from the other man standing to the side.

Through a series of several unfortunate events, your usual photographer had fallen ill and his stand-in got hired from right under the company and left so the only person that even had the slightest bit of talent with a camera in the office was forced to come with you today for shots of the billionaire. And in the worst stroke of luck, that person happened to be the very man that ‘inspired’ you to take the job in the first place.

Clark shifted on his feet and you barely repressed an eye roll. He had been very vocal in his disapproval of the whole thing given how often the mogul had put the moves on you but none of his arguments had done anything to deter you, instead they only fuelled the fire.

Bruce’s jaw clenched and you watched in fascination as the muscles beneath his skin moved, although they were not nearly as impressive as Clark’s (you would never admit that out loud). “Well Bruce,” He beamed at you, “Wayne Enterprises has just introduced a new product line that promises to ease the severe heats often experienced by omegas, my question for you is, what about this product is so different from all others on the market that promise the same things yet all others have failed?”

The alpha leaned back in his seat, his muscular thighs spreading slightly, instantly drawing your gaze to the thick bulge that was perfectly hugged by the material of his pants. Your eyes immediately flicked back up to him but given the smirk on his lips, Bruce knew exactly what he was doing. 

“I’m actually quite proud of my team for this, they’ve worked tirelessly on development for years and I believe that it really shows. While other products are usually prescribed by doctors in the forms of ointments and perfumes that mimic the scent of an alpha, which almost never work by the way, we have gone in a totally new direction. Instead, omegas can buy these pouches at any pharmacy and when heated, they give off the scent of a pup.” Bruce gestured to the small bags that were barely the size of your palm that sat on the table next to him. They gave the appearance of a miniature version of a microwavable heat pack but he was right, if you concentrated hard enough, you could smell the mixture of milk and flowers that all babies had.

“It is common knowledge that the presence of pups actually help to lessen the effects of a heat whereas the scent of an alpha is far more complex to manufacture and can actually make an omega’s heat worse if they don’t have any other-“ he paused then, his smirk growing as the room seemed to grow smaller, “-tools to help them through it.” You barely suppressed a squeak and quickly ducked your head as if you were checking your notes once more.

You gathered yourself for a moment then spoke again, missing the way that Clark was glaring at the other alpha over your shoulder. “And how affordable are these products?”

“Wayne Enterprises are donating 2 million to women’s shelters throughout Gotham and we plan to sell them for less than $10.” As if anticipating your next question, Bruce licked his lips and continued. “While it is not feasible to gain a profit from such a low price, I would rather give them away to the people that need it but I do have a board that I have to listen to… sometimes.” He winked at you.

Heat crawled up your neck and settled onto your full cheeks. You squeezed your thighs together though you weren’t quite sure if it was because you were attempting to feign arousal or keep him from looking up your skirt. You laid a hand onto your notebook, shutting off your recorder, as you leaned forwards and offered him your other one. “Thank you for being so open to this interview, you have been a hard man to pin down.”

You could feel the way Clark’s body seized as Bruce’s smirk grew and his eyes twinkled deviously. “If it’s by you miss Y/L/N, I would gladly be pinned down any time.” He shook your hand with a firm grip, letting the tips of his fingers brush against your wrist. “For an interview that is.”

He rose to his feet and politely helped you to yours, steadying you with a hand on your waist as you wobbled on your heels. Once he was sure that you were steady, he ducked down and grabbed one of the unopened boxes of Heat Helpers (quite the cheesy name in your opinion) and gave it to you, along with a small piece of cardstock. “Why don’t you take this, a thank you for a great conversation.”

You flipped over the piece of paper to reveal a phone number scrawled on in pen. You gave him a questioning look to which he chuckled. “My number, if you ever want to have a one-on-one with me, with or without the tape recorder.” 

You swallowed thickly and stuttered out some kind of polite response before Clark ushered you out of the room, muttering under his breath about being in a time crunch. You were barely able to catch one last, “Anytime miss Y/L/N” before the heavy door slammed shut and you were quite literally pushed into the awaiting elevator by your friend.

As soon as the doors were shut, you were on him. “What was that all about?” You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him a scrutinising look. Clark refused to make eye contact with you, instead he stared at the elevator doors like he was willing them to open.

“He was flirting with you.” You rolled your eyes and looked away from the tall alpha. “And you let him.”

“So what? He’s attractive and available, as am I. It was only natural.” Clark’s shoulders tensed, his grip on his camera tightening until his knuckles turned white. The confined space was now filled with a bitter scent that made your stomach drop and your omega howl in displeasure.

“Why are you so concerned about this, Clark?”

The elevator doors opened with a ping and he quickly walked out. “It’s nothing.” He said and you knew you weren’t going to get anything else out of him until he decided he was done throwing a tantrum.

——————

“So have you called him?” Lois was leaning against the bar next to you, her drink half empty but the flush on her cheeks told you that it wasn’t the first one of the night. 

“Called who?” She rolled her eyes like it was obvious.

“Bruce Wayne! He obviously wants you too, I saw the photos Clark took. He’s fucking—what’s the word— enamoured!” You scoff behind your tumbler of whiskey which you had been nursing since Perry gave it to you an hour ago. The whole office had gathered at the bar down the road for an end-of-workweek drink and against your better judgement, you had decided to join.

Clark had been convinced into joining a game of pool, leaving you without anyone to talk to but it’s not like he would anyway. For some stupid reason, the alpha had been giving you the silent treatment for days and it was really starting to piss you off. You regarded Lois with a look but she was far too tipsy to get it.

“He was just flirting, he does it with everybody.” You dismissed it but she scoffed.

“Then why did he ask Perry for your personal number?” Your head snapped up, your eyes wide. “Clark didn’t tell you?” Evidently, your wide open mouth and lack of a verbal response told her everything she needed to know. Suddenly, Lois was very sober, a serious expression on her face.

“We were in a meeting with Perry the day after the interview and Wayne just strolled in like he fucking owned the place. He said how great you were and that he was hoping to get your number for a follow-up interview sometime soon. Clark said he would handle it, I assumed that he would have talked to you.” Her gaze travelled over to said man. “Shit I guess he didn’t.”

You slammed back the rest of your drink and without any sort of conscious thought, stormed over to the group of men huddled around the pool table. “Where the fuck do you get off Kent?” You snarled. Immediately all of the men seemed to find their phones incredibly interesting.

“I’m sorry?” He asked in that way too polite way he did that really meant ‘what the fuck is the matter with you’ but you were having none of it.

“Why didn’t you tell me Bruce asked for my number?” 

“There’s a lot of Bruces in the world, you’ll have to be more specific.” He dismissed.

Anger flared in your gut. “You know exactly what I’m fucking talking about.” You snarled, making Clark stand up straight and meet your eyes. In the dim light of the bar, his expression was far darker than you had ever seen before as aggravation rolled off of his powerful body in waves. “You had no right to keep something like that from me!”

“I had every right! He was just going to use you and then never talk to you again! I was protecting you!” 

“I didn’t ask you to!” The bar went completely silent as Clark visibly flinched but you were far too upset to care. “You know what, I’m done.” You raised your hands in surrender as you turned and pushed through the stunned crowd, your anger slowly trickling away into sadness.

The night air was like a punch in the gut but it also eased the tenseness in your shoulders. Taking a deep breath, you willed yourself not to cry. It wasn’t like you were in love with Bruce, but even if you were, Clark’s blatant disapproval of him and his distrust in your decisions made you feel incredibly small. And it was breaking your heart.

He was your best friend, he was supposed to be supportive if not a little teasing about your choice in men. He was supposed to console you when things went wrong, not say ‘I told you so’. Why did he get to control your love life while you could only sit back and watch him fall in love with someone else?

Your feet carried you further and further from the bar as the urge to sob was quickly becoming overwhelming. “Y/N!” You turned in time to see Clark throw open the door, the light from inside spilling out onto the street as he endeavoured to chase you.

“Leave me alone!” You cried or at least tried to, but then suddenly, the air was knocked from your lungs and you were looking up at the stars.

The shrill screech of a speeding car came from somewhere on your left as bright headlights illuminated the mass of a man above you before the sound was in the distance and darkness folded over you both. His weight kept you pinned to the slightly damp grass and you had the vague thought that you must be in a park of some kind, even though just a second ago you were standing on a sidewalk- or was it the street?

“Are you okay?” That was Clark’s voice but he had been so far away from you. “Omega?” He sounded distressed and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why.

“Say something!” His huge hands were planted by your head and it was only when one of them cupped your cheek did you find your voice again.

“Clark?” His whole body sagged with relief and he let his forehead rest against yours.

“Thank god. I thought I didn’t get to you in time. The car came out of nowhere and you were so close.” You turned your head away from him, your eyes focusing on the bar… that was across the street… a block away. The glint of something in the grass catches your attention, Clark’s glasses. 

He looked so different without them and all your confused mind could think was just how blue his eyes were when they were unobscured by the glass. 

His button up shirt which was normally so perfectly done up was unbuttoned, exposing the tight material of something navy beneath. “What?” But you couldn’t get out anymore, not when he shifted his weight, exposing even more of what was covered by his shirt and you were stunned into silence.

The red ’S’ practically glowed as realisation dawned into you. His brows scrunched in confusion, following your gaze. “I- I can explain.” Your head spun as he yanked you to your feet, though his hands never left your skin like he needed the reassurance that you were still there.

“I was going to tell you but then I realised how much danger it would put you in and if you were hurt in any way because of me, I couldn’t even stand the thought. And then we had known each other for months and Lois said you would feel betrayed so I kept it a secret-“ You placed an open palm onto his chest, stopping him in his tracks. His mouth snapped shut with a click.

“Is this why you were acting so weird about Bruce? You thought he would hurt me because of you?” Your voice wobbled with emotions as your nails dug into his warm peck. 

Clark’s growl was shocking in its intensity. The vibrations shot up your arm as the ground shook beneath your feet with its power. “No, he would never even dare to fucking touch you. He knows who you belong to.” Your heart skipped a beat, this possessiveness was nothing you had ever seen from the soft-spoken reporter before. You knew that you should find it disgusting considering how he had been treating you but instead your veins filled with warmth.

“And who is it that I belong to? There’s no claiming mark on my neck.” His grip on your hips tightened which should have been a warning but the anger was quickly returning now that the foggy haze of danger had passed. “If I can remember correctly, you’ve been courting Lois, not me.”

“I’ve been asking her for advice on how to ask you out!” He said, exasperated. “I just couldn't find the perfect time to do it.”

“You’re an idiot.” You retorted before grabbing his black curls in a tight grip and yanking his mouth to yours. His body tensed but then quickly melted into you, groaning against your lips. 

Maybe you did have an office crush but it’s not like you’d actually admit it.

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[star2fishmeg]

domestic things w luke 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼 like preparing dinner together, doing skincares, movie nightsss 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼 im crying i need it

18:30, dinner:

"Luke! Who's watching the stove?" you complain, cutting vegetables while he nuzzles into your neck, peppering the skin with kisses and sliding his hands underneath your shirt.

"It's fine, angel. It's under control," he mutters, lips moving against your column and placing a wet kiss before standing straight and taking out two plates from the cabinet above, "do you not like my attention?"

He places the plates next to the stove, checking the pasta for real just so he can say he did. Both of you are capable of making a better meal, but it's just the two of you and neither has the energy to go through the prep so pasta and vegetables were settled on, however, you think he only settled on it so you can watch a movie faster. Plus, Luke wasn't really helping, his idea of being your sous-chef involves neck kisses, wandering hands and FaceTiming his friends.

"No, not when the stove's on and I have a knife in my hand." You roll your eyes playfully, finishing the last broccoli and brushing the diced veg to the end of the cutting board. "But any other time, you can be okay."

"So mean to me." He pouts, lowering the temperature on the hob. He slides back over to you, hands settling on your hips and lips planting chaste kisses on your cheek and neck once again. "How long's that veg gonna take?"

"Five minutes," you simply say, pouring the veg into a saucepan, turning the heat up and letting it boil. You spin around, Luke's hands still on you and he smiles. "Hi."

"Hi, baby," he mutters, his thumbs soothing over your hips. He's too cute when he smiles at you like that, soft, wide eyes with loose curls, licking his lips slightly, "wanna do this with you forever. Can I kiss you now?"

His eyes glimmer, hands sliding to your waist as he pulls you to his chest. You slide your hands up his chest, soothing over the muscles and you nod, closing your eyes until his lips gently slot with yours. He hums, arms winding around your middle as lips move against one another.

Abruptly, he pulls back, moving you to one side in a hurry and turning the hob down. Panic rushes over you, heart racing only to find your dinner had just boiled over. With a grin, you giggle when he huffs out a relieved breath before giggling with you.

20:00, skincare:

You always think he looks adorable when he sits on the toilet seat so you can reach his face, looking up at you with glossy eyes with his hair pushed back by one of your headbands. He's never had much of a skincare routine, and he doesn't have the time for anything extensive but then again, you don't believe a multi-step, multi-product routine is needed for some people.

You stand between his legs, your own hair pushed back by a headband too, a cleansing wipe in your hand while holding his jaw in the other.

"When will you do this by yourself?" you ask, endeared, wiping his face with the wipe. You don't mind doing it for him, it's rather sweet that he lets you do it in the first place.

"Never," his hands creep under your shirt, caressing along your waist, skin feeling dewy and clean, "feels nice when you do it. Why does my skin always look better when you look after me? S'like you have a magic touch."

You toss the wipe away, his hands never leaving your waist as you squeeze moisturiser into your hands, "Because you're sweaty all the time and it clogs your pores, baby. You need to clean them, less breakouts."

"Is it unattractive when I break out? Like, does it gross you out?" You can tell he's genuinely worried about it by the way his voice is quieter and how his eyes track your every move.

"Absolutely not, Lu," you rub and tap the cream onto his cheeks along to his nose, forehead and chin, "I still love you either way. It's just a pimple or two, nothin' deep. S'normal. Does it gross you out when I break out?"

"No..." he mumbles, seeing your point and letting go of you. He watches you turn to the mirror and wipe your own face, entranced by your lack of concern about your appearance when with him, stripped down to the bare yet he still thinks you're beautiful and you're comfortable enough for him to see every blemish. He thinks for a moment about how well he's proven that he loves you enough for you to feel safe with him.

It's not like you haven't noticed him staring from the corner of your eye, in all honesty, you think it's sweet how he sits in a trance, watching, learning, admiring.

"You want a pore strip, Snoops?" your voice catches him by surprise and he blankly blinks, watching you apply a pore strip over your nose.

"Will it prevent me from making out with you?"

"Nope, that's a facemask, this just goes over your nose." You smile, waving an unopened one in front of his face.

"Then put it on me, baby." He closes his eyes and waits, smiling when you dab his nose with a damp sponge and apply the strip, pressing firmly and kissing his forehead.

21:00, movie night:

You can't ever truly concentrate on a film, not while cuddled with Luke and especially not while watching in his bed. You're tucked under his arm, head resting on his chest with one leg over his lap, his hand caressing along your thigh while the other slides under the waistband of your shorts. He's still wearing your headband from earlier, curls pushed back off his face with a couple too short to hold and falling over his forehead. He looks cute, even cuter holding you to his body like you're his teddy bear.

He finds it hard to concentrate as well. Your hand soothing over his chest sets goosebumps running down his spine, the way your skin is touching and transferring heat only enticing him into shifting his gaze from the TV to your lips.

But if there's one thing that drives you up the wall when watching movies with him, is that Luke will talk his ass off through one if he's excited about it. Secretariat's his favourite movie, and you'd think if he loved it so much, he'd want to watch it again, but instead, he's giving you a running commentary and you can't hear a thing, and he's refusing to put subtitles on.

"Oh, I love this part!" he mumbles in excitement, eyes lighting up.

"You said that ten minutes ago..."

"Baby, no. I mean it this time, look!"

He acts like your eyes haven't left the screen, lips pulling into a grin. His excitement is endearing, and your heart warms seeing him into something other than hockey. He's so excited that his hand slides up your waist, hoisting you further up his body so your faces are almost level. You almost think he's going to continue watching, but you're miserably mistaken as he keeps chatting, explaining the backstory and inspiration for the film at the same time you're trying to listen.

In an exhale, your hand cups his cheek and you turn his face to look at you. Your gaze burns into his but you're not mad, it's an endeared and adoring gaze that shimmers under the glow of the TV.

"Shut up, Lu." You press your lips to his, fingers sliding into the back of his curls as mouths slowly and sensually move with each other, his hand on your thigh kneading at your skin and the other flat, gliding up your back, thumb rubbing your skin. He melts into you, humming at the high he gets when kissing you, stomach flipping as his desperation becomes obvious. With every second you disconnect for air, he dives back in for another languid and wet kiss, completely forgetting about the movie in the first place. You're all he's concentrating on now.

Animated divider belongs to @/cafekitsune

[spookytuesdaypod]

i knooooow cate blanchett was mad she missed out on this toxic gay role

[imauthicktic]

Slashers incorrect quotes

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N: *hands Ghostface a heart shaped box* will you be mine?

Ghostface, takes box and opens it to find a knife inside: I aint complainin', sweet cheeks, but I thought this was a proposal

Y/N: actually, this is a blood oath

Ghostface: understood, go ahead

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Baby Firefly: *crying while Y/N comforts them*

Baby Firefly: *back to normal* sorry I was vulnerable with you. Do you still think I'm hot?

Y/N:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N, Chucky, and Tiffany Valentine playing two truths and one lie

Tiffany: *talking to Chucky* You're tackey and cheap. Plus, I hate you.

Chucky: Ha! nice try! all of those are a lie!

Chucky whispering to Y/N: she was lying, right?

Y/N:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N: why are you following me?

Billy: because we're dating now

Y/N: okay... what about Stu?

Billy: we're a package deal

Stu: buy one idiot, get one free

Y/N: *gasps* I love BOGOS!!!

[toxicanonymity]

that scream blurb that you posting about Ghostface being unconscious and the reader testing to see if he’s hard…. you have to make the full fic now pleaseee omg it was so good

Every inch

1.4k / m!ghostface x f!reader / from blurb.

SEQUELS | Slasher masterlist

Warnings/notes: I8+ noncon (ghostface unconscious) somnophilia. Based on the car scene from Scream II, but it's modern day (cell phones exist).  You can HC this as anyone but he's night walks coded if you read my other stuff.

Your skirt grazes his robe as you carefully stretch your right leg over the driver’s seat, trying not to touch him, trying not to wake him up.  It’s tricky crawling over Ghostface to get out of the car.  He smells faintly of weed and sweat.  You’ve never been close enough to smell him before. You’ve never been close to him at all for more than a few seconds, always with his knife in hand.  You hear him breathing behind the mask and assume he’s knocked out from the impact of the crash, but can't know for sure. 

He could be pretending for his own amusement, planning to taunt you then stab you at any moment. You’re going to have to open that car door sooner or later - it’s the only one left you haven’t tried.  It'll definitely make a noise. You hover there straddling him, delaying the inevitable. Straddling Ghostface, you think to yourself. Is this a nightmare? 

You slowly lower yourself into his lap, throbbing at the possibilities of what might await you.  Your heart pounds in your chest.  You put your hands on the edge of the seat to pull your body  closer and your heart nearly stops as  your inner thigh softly nudges  his hand.  But he doesn’t wake up – or if he does, he doesn’t show it.  Emboldened, you lower yourself a little more until your damp panties arrive at a warm bulge in his robe and your breath hitches.  He’s only somewhat hard,  but obviously packing.  He still doesn’t move.  His chest is rising and falling with his breaths.  You know he’s alive.  Unable to resist, you lower yourself a little more.  You tilt your hips and gently grind yourself against his package.  

What if the nightmare became a wet dream? It’s always turned you on, at least a little, but especially lately.  It’s been harder and harder to separate arousal from fear.  You’ve wondered if it was a sexual thing for him, the way he pursues you.  Stabbing is penetrative after all.  Does the thought of killing you turn him on? Would it turn him on to wake up to you straddling him?  After all, he’s only a man.  Why not, you think.  This could be your best chance to find out.  This might be the most power you’ll ever have in the situation.  You’re turned on thinking about it.  If you’re mere seconds from potential death, you have nothing to lose.  Plus you're curious what's under all this, and it's too risky to lift up his mask.

Fuck it feels good, and the fact that it’s Ghostface, the one who’s been stalking you, killing your friends, trying to kill you - that gives you such a rush.  The tables have turned.  You’re on top of him now.  You look around for his knife and it’s landed on the floorboard along with his voice changer.  You reach down to grab it then quickly stab it into the back of the driver’s seat at an angle so you can grab it if you need to but he won’t know where it is.  Then you return your crotch to his and a bolt of arousal slices through you when his hard package swells against you.  Holy shit he's hung. You slowly roll your hips against him, grinding into him, trying not to be too aggressive, but it’s hard to control yourself. 

-

His breathing changes and your heart jumps to your throat. You wonder, Is Ghostface seduceable? It might be your best shot if you're already getting his dick wet when he wakes up.  But there's always the chance he reacts violently, and now that you're up against him, it's clear you'd be no match for his strength.

Then you have a thought.  You carefully lift his gloved hand, and he doesn’t react.  You lift the dead weight of his heavy arm all the way above his mask, and he still just sits there, breathing.  You pin both his hands above his head, between the metal pegs of the headrest. His hands are large and the two of them together barely fit through the gap.  Then you slam down the headrest, pinning him there by his wrists.

His mask moves.  He seems to look at you.  Then a soft, low sigh.  You lower your crotch again and he’s harder.  You rub yourself against him slowly with your hands braced on the seat and have to stifle a moan in the shoulder of your dress as you grind against him and his cock swells even harder.  A soft groan muffled by his mask makes you wetter.  

You’re going to have to have him.  This is your chance and you can’t resist it.  Your inner thigh muscles begin to fatigue as you push yourself off his lap to hover again.  You lift up his robe, exposing PJ pants. Strange and not at all imposing, but convenient.  You arrange the robe behind his raging erection, then take a deep breath and pull down his waistband.  His stiff member stands at attention. You cover it with your warmth before the cool air wakes him up. A stab of desire shoots through your core as your wet panties meet his hard cock.  You rub yourself against him and your clit throbs.  Your core aches to be filled. 

You pull your panties to the side and nestle the swollen head of his cock at your entrance.  Then you sink down and fail to suppress your gasp at the stretch.  He moans but doesn’t move.  Your body makes way for him as you slide down and sheathe him entirely with your cunt.  His cock is nice and thick, it makes you feel so full.  It’s crazy this cock has been under the robe the entire time.  You wonder if you could just fuck from now on.  If he’d agree not to kill you - that is, if the threat of it doesn't turn him on.

You rise up, then sink down on him again, his size making you grateful for your ample wetness.  You lift and lower yourself and roll your hips into him. You try not to breathe too heavily as you feel it building in your lower belly.  You start to ride him less restrained, unable to resist fucking yourself on his nice, hard cock.  

-

His mask begins to move as though confused, and he grunts as he tugs at his arms,  unable to free them from the headrest.  He’s groggy and weak.  You’re not going to stop. You're too close to coming.  You greedily keep filling yourself to the brim with him.

His mask looks right at you. “Always wanted this cock,” ghostface says weakly, making your heart race.  “Knew it.”  Then it echoes from the voice changer on the floorboard.  Always wanted this cock.  Knew it.   He tugs at his hands more violently, then gives up.  

“Nasty girl,” he says, voice getting stronger.  Nasty Girl. 

He thrusts his hips up powerfully and you moan uninhibited. He thrashes his arms and stabs upward with his cock, bouncing you on his lap with the power of his hips.  Your whole body tingles and tenses, then you bite your own arm as your walls clamp down around him.  You come on his dick, then pull yourself off and he groans in frustration but has no way of getting you back.  

You open the car door and you’re torn about whether to make him come or leave him with blue balls.  You decide to jerk him off as a power move.  You kneel into the open door frame of the car.  You wrap your hand around his girth and fuck his fist.  “All ya had to do was ask,” he says.  All you had to do was ask.  You grab the voice changer and throw it down the street.  Now he's nothing but a man with his dick in your hand.

“Woulda given you every inch," he says. Maybe every inch of his blade.  He nods down to his crotch. "Now you know." His voice is coming back to full strength, smooth and low. It's a voice you can't quite place.

You know you should stab him while you have him tied down, but you're thinking with the wrong head now, unable to bear the thought of this cock going to waste. You slow your hand way down and edge him mercilessly.  His big, stiff cock twitches in your hand and you can tell he's dying for more.

You take your phone out of your bra and take a short video of him trying not to whimper, dick sprouting out of his unimposing pajama pants.  Then you finish him off and take a dick pic selfie with cum all over his robe.  You take the knife out of the back of the seat and leave him stuck in the car.

-

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. Even if you're reading this way later I would love to know your thoughts in a comment! Knowing what you liked helps me write more. 🖤🖤

[rememberwren]

Thinking about a new group of recruits coming in and one of them taking notice of the chemistry between Ghost and Soap + having a flair for the arts.

One morning Soap is walking through the hallways. There’s an old pockmarked bulletin board that mostly holds whatever scandalous images they can get by the brass, plus bad jokes, plus half-hearted propaganda on behalf of the King.

Today there’s a whole group of soldiers packed in the space around the bulletin, and Soap lets himself get caught up in the chaos.

“What are we lookin’ at?” he asks.

“Some kind of dirty story someone left posted on the bulletin board in the night,” the soldier answers. Soap’s brows lift. “Real 50 Shades of Gray shite.”

Soap wants to see this for himself, and pushes himself through the crowd, taking notice of how the guffaws and laughter seem to be increasing at his presence.

It’s a single page, front only, double spaced with impeccable spelling and grammar. But as Soap’s eyes scan the words, his smile goes slack, eyes widening. He bats an eager hand off the page and brings it closer, sure he is misreading.

Cocks and arses and so much cum—way too much fucking cum and—

It’s about him. Him and—

“What’s all this?”

Ghost’s voice cuts through the laughter like a knife. Soap feels it in between his ribs. He meets the eyes of the recruit next to him and knows that his own horror and panic is reflected there in the brown irises. Soap cannot let Ghost see this.

“Sergeant. Hand it over.”

“It’s nothing, LT, just some bastard’s idea of a joke—“

“I love a good joke. Remind me to tell you one about the disobedient subordinate. Hand the paper over, Soap.”

Soap takes one look at Ghost’s outstretched hand and shoves the entire paper into his own mouth, the crinkling loud over the silence that has filled the hallway. Soap chews, cheeks bulging, eyeing a spot just above Ghost’s shoulder instead of meeting his eyes.

Ghost stares. Soap chews.

“Don’t the rest of you have any duties? Or do I need to find you some?” Ghost asks, eyes on Soap. The recruits scatter. Once the hallway is empty, Simon holds out his hand, palm up. “Spit it out, Johnny.”

“More o’ a swallower,” Soap slurs around the paper which is turning to mush in his mouth. Ghost wiggles his fingers, and like a dog being told to drop it, Soap opens his mouth and pushes out the wad of smut with his tongue, letting it loll lamely into Ghost’s waiting palm.

“Thirty seconds to explain. Go.”

“Was hungry, sir. The mess hall was too far away.”

“Right.” He takes Soap’s wrist in his grip and drops the mush into his bare palm, relishing in his Sergeant’s wince. “Dispose of that.”

“Will do, sir.”

As he’s stomping away, Ghost scowls beneath the mask. This is the fifth day in a row that something has been posted on the bulletin about him and Johnny. The other four pages are safely tucked in the drawer of Ghost’s desk in his office. Things had just been getting good.

He only hopes he didn’t miss anything integral to the plot.

[ghouljams]

Not at all a valentines fic ask but also not not a valentines fic ask:

what would each dude get their so for v day

Ghost: Forgot this was a holiday and was wondering what all the hearts were about. Gets you a swiss army knife two days after the 14th. It's practical.

Gaz: Personalized bouquet plus dinner reservations for the 14th, breakfast in bed on the 15th.

Soap: Also forgot this was a holiday. Grabs a dozen roses and a teddy bear from the market after Gaz mentions taking his honey out.

Price: Picks you up for dinner with a bouquet and some sort of jewelry. Does not mention that his secretary picked out the jewelry, or that Gaz picked the restaurant.

Nikolai: A text apologizing for working on the holiday, and a promise to make it up to you. You receive many, many, bright orange packages, all of them stacked and delivered precisely at 7am on February 14th so you have time to open them before work. Do you know what Hermes is? Who knows, this blanket is so soft, and these champagne flutes look like real crystal. Also a dozen roses when he finally gets home a week later.

[lovverletters]

👉👈 yandere serial killer...??? Maybe?? Like just this big scary dude with a mask and a big fuck all weapon like a butcher's knife or something and hes so big and scary but he sees his darling as he's just head over heels in love and obssessed and stalks them and makes sure they are safe.

Maybe leaves gifts as a way to try and court his darling even (trial and error style)

So like he leaves maybe a dead animal like a fucking cat cause he's this kinda survival guy and he's trying to provide food but darling is freaked out, so he tries again with something else maybe bones. Doesn't work. Tries to figure out what they like and tries again with their favorite flower or something.

Like he's out of touch with society cause again big serial killer who likely lives out in the woods, kills people who get to close to his home etc so he's really trying to win over his darling who lives closer to the town/city or something.

Just.... I just love big scary man who is so scary and mean but is ONLY nice and soft to his darling and tries to be so gentle, especially if his darling is much smaller than him.

No pressure if you dont wanna do this! Just!!! Giving out some ideas!

♡♡♡

♡Bunny

Yandere! Serial Killer

A/N : thank you for requesting! I changed a few things if you don't mind💖 this is like an intro for him? I'll write more if people like this dude

T/W : Obsessive behaviour, murder, mentions of dead animal.

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"─yet another body has been discovered near a park at Heartfelt Avenue this morning. The police were alerted to the scene after a man who was walking his dog stumbled upon the deceased body covered with deep cuts that were shaped into a heart. This marks the twelfth victim of the serial killer, 'Lovelorn' that has left communities in fear──"

The news forecaster were cutted off as [Name] switch the television off. Their stomach churned with uneasiness at the reports of the new killing. With the serial killer still on the loose, god knows who'll be next?

It could be them.

It's a terrifying thought but a probable possibility. All of the bodies were found near their place of living, meaning that the killer is not far from their area. Moving away is not a choice for them, they could barely make enough money to stay afloat.

[Name] will have to put up with the murderous maniac's antics until they were caught and placed behind bars.

"Shit── I forgot I have to cover for Stacey today!" They cursed out, hurriedly changing into their horrendous work uniform.

Working a late shift at a cafe wasn't exactly their choice. [Name] usually worked the day shift── stressful but far better than being all alone at night when there's a lunatic who's going around stabbing people. Their coworker Stacey had an emergency today and had practically begged [Name] to cover for her shift as no one would take up on it.

[Name] don't blame them, no one in their right mind would voluntarily throw themselves in a situation where they would ended up in a news headline.

However, adulting is hard and it drains your sanity slowly and [Name] already lost theirs a long time ago. Plus, they really need more money otherwise they'll have to live off cup noodles.

What ever could go wrong? The killer had just slain a person today, they couldn't possibly attempt to do it again could they?

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Everything went wrong.

It had been mind numbingly boring shift, the cafe were deserted at night with only a few people coming in and getting out as soon as they got their drinks.

[Name] were tempted to just sleep through their shift in the break room. Their boss won't care──probably.

"Can't something interesting happens right now? I'm bored out of my mind──" On cue, the lights suddenly begun flickering before shutting off.

Fuck. They're not bored anymore.

[Name] jolted in their place when the main door slammed to a close and their heart stopping momentarily as they saw a figure running towards the backdoor entrance.

They raced towards the exit──there's no way they're going to investigate it! They value their life more than this store they worked at──and try to pry the door open but discovered to their horror that it has been jammed!

Before they could attempt to break the glass door with a steel chair, they heard a noise from their former place behind the counter. [Name] eyes widened in fear at the sight of the figure they'd seen running earlier.

The man was muscular and had a red horned mask on, in his hand was a large butcher knife that serial killers loves wielding. Had their life not being in danger, [Name] would've laughed at how cliché this situation they're in.

"H─hey buddy, that's a nice looking knife you got there" [Name] says as they held onto the steel chair tighter, ready to wield it as a weapon if needed to.

The killer only stalked further in silence, ignoring [Name]'s remarks. He only stopped once they reached a good distance from each other and [Name] were confused, is he fucking with them?

Their confusion only furthers when the killer drops a fucking dead rabbit in front of them. Horrified beyond belief, [Name] looked at the horned masked man who stared at them as if he's waiting for a praise.

"Wh──wha..?" They could only croaked out timidly.

"It's for you" The killer spoke in his deep voice, elaborating no further.

Their eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as he dropped a human heart next to the dead rabbit. [Name] felt their knees weakened as they fell on the ground, disturbed at the sight before them.

Mustering whatever courage they have left within them, they asked the killer that's towering over them.

"Wha──what are these f──for?" Stumbling over their words from how terrified they were.

The killer, holding a flower in his hand──they looked freshly cut from the stem──lowered to their level of ground and spoke in his gravely voice that's strangely laced with a certain gentleness and love.

"M' courting you cause' I love you"

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