#once again. if anyones weird about this you’re getting murdered | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

officialaemondtargaryen · 6 months ago

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Dinner & Diatribes

❝i knew it from the first look of mischief in your eye.❞

Summary: You both swiped right and suddenly you're standing in a stranger's kitchen while he makes you spaghetti.

Pairing: Modern Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Author’s Note: this might be the most self-indulgent fic i've ever written, so fair warning. also, thank you tom, who inspired this by saying that dinner & diatribes would be aegon's hozier song. it's just true. anyways, this was really fun to write.

Warnings: language, recreational drug use, alcohol use, fluff, intense sexual situations (including: oral sex - female receiving, sexual intercourse - p in v), just two single people who are horny, more fluff, aegon being so cute that i couldn't stop smiling the whole time i was writing this.

It was precisely 9:39 PM on a Tuesday.

You were sitting cross-legged on your couch, nose deep in a fresh murder mystery that you had been working through for the last two days. There was a lit joint between your fingers that you were nursing, taking little hits so that it wouldn’t completely burn out, and on the cushion next to you, your phone softly vibrates and lights up; a familiar icon flashes across the screen and you can easily make out the words, “It’s a Match” from the corner of your eye.

It’d been a regular occurrence since you had downloaded that accursed app.

You’d been single for far too long, according to your best friend, though you hadn’t really noticed. The sweet silence of a solitary life was something that you had enjoyed for the most part. It wasn’t even like your online dating life had really taken off, either. You’d get matches but hardly anyone would reach out in any way that made you feel like they were serious. They wanted your Snapchat username, or they were in an ‘open’ relationship or asking for a threesome, and one guy even asked if you would send him pictures of your feet. Even some of the ones you thought were serious about taking you out- or even just hooking up- would end up ghosting you before anything actually happened.

“It’s not supposed to be serious,” you could hear your friend’s words rattling around in your brain. You shake your head and focus once again on your book; they have a suspect, it’s the best friend! How fitting.

Once again, your phone lights up and vibrates. Not wanting to be distracted from the plot, you ignore your new match and get back to your mystery with anticipation; the best friend is about to confess. You go to take another hit of your joint and frown upon realizing it’s burnt out. As you move to grab your lighter, in comes another message, and another, and another. You stop what you’re doing and pick up your phone, swiping at the screen until you find the culprit. He’s known only as Aegon T, and according to the one sentence he has written on his profile, he has a dog. You swipe through his pictures- the dog is a golden retriever, the man looks like a golden retriever.

In the message thread, he’s basically talking to himself.

There’s four new messages waiting for you, while three little dots begin flashing at the bottom of the screen; disappearing and reappearing as you read what he’s already sent.

“So, I’m high.”

“And I am making spaghetti… and it’s really good.”

“At least I hope it’s really good, it could just be the weed…”

“I could use a taste-tester, if you’re up for it? I can’t pay you or anything, but it’s honest work 😏”

Aegon begins typing again and you watch the screen, a smirk on your lips. You are 99% sure that the spaghetti is truly an innuendo for what he really wants and have half a heart to just block him, but you watch as those little gray dots continue in the bottom left corner of the screen; he’s going back and forth with himself and you can’t help but find it oddly cute. Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you contemplate a witty response, but before you can even begin typing, he sends a fifth message.

“That was weird as fuck, right?”

Then a sixth.

“You probably don’t want to come over to some random guy’s house on a Tuesday.”

He finishes up with a seventh message.

“Unless you do…”

He almost sends an apology. After all, what's another message? He’s already fucked this whole thing up; not even giving himself a chance before he nose-dived. If he was being honest, he should just go ahead and delete his whole account; save you from secondhand embarrassment and save himself from repeating the same mistake again in the future. He sets the phone down on the kitchen counter and goes back to ripping bong hits to calm his nerves. Though, he’s unable to keep himself from checking his phone for a response; a response that likely wasn’t going to come and he’d spend the rest of his night feeling like a complete idiot.

Seven back-to-back messages should have screamed ‘red flag’, but you’re glancing at the clock as if you were seriously contemplating taking this stranger up on his offer. After all, you do have needs just as much as the next person. But, you’re wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of pajama shorts, your hair’s a mess, and you were covered in the crumbs of your munchie snacks. Meaning, you were nowhere close to being prepared for what was sure to happen between you and this random stoner offering you dinner.

Yet, you respond to him, “I could never turn down spaghetti”.

Aegon’s stirring the sauce when he gets your message. He’s instantly elated, thrusting a celebratory fist into the air. His fingers fly across the keyboard swiftly, sending another quick message, “Atta girl 🙃 My place is on the corner of 9th and 51st, above Jasper’s.”

“Be there soon,” you reply with haste.

It was apartment #4 and you made sure to text your friend the address, and given name of your potential murderer, and also share your location for her to keep an eye out. She says all you have to do is text her at any time if you need her to call and bail you out with a fake emergency. All she asks in return is for you to have fun and let her know if you are planning on spending the night- which was an idea that you weren’t opposed to, but it wasn’t something you were planning on.

You’re nervous as you stand outside of the door to his apartment, fist hovering for a moment. Now’s the time to make a fast exit- you haven’t met him, you could turn around right now and never meet him. You could wake up alive in the morning, safe in your own bed. Or, you can knock on the door and have what might be a really nice spaghetti dinner with a really nice guy. Hell, he could even be the love of your life and in fifty years you’ll both look back on this day and laugh about how you met on Tinder and how you were stupid enough to go to his house and not a public place.

Finally, you knock.

Aegon puts the lid back on his spaghetti sauce and shuffles into the living room. Sunfyre is on the couch with his ears perked; his tail’s wagging and he’s panting eagerly, waiting patiently to meet this new visitor. Aegon whispers over to him, “wish me luck,” and thinks to himself, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish. He peers through the peephole when he approaches the door and there you are, a sigh of relief deflates his chest.

“Oh, thank God,” you can hear him say as the door swings open. His accent is surprisingly British. “You’re real.”

The very first thing that you notice are his eyes. They’re piercing; somehow blue and lavender at the same time– the color of a warm, summer sunrise and they’re crinkling at the edges as he smiles. He’s wearing a pair of dark gray sweats and a pale green hoodie, and the only word that comes to mind when you look at him is warmth. He’s somehow more attractive in person than he is in the pictures on his profile, which you didn’t think was possible, but he’s standing right in front of you and you can’t help but think to yourself, he doesn’t look like a murderer.

Then again, neither did Ted Bundy.

Aegon stands there for a moment, just staring at you, unable to do anything else. His words escape him, he can barely even breathe. You look exactly the same as your pictures; even without the makeup and even in the shitty, fluorescent overhead lights of the hallway. Even in a sweatshirt and pajama shorts, you’re stunning. He’s having a hard time believing that you actually showed up and he doesn’t realize that he’s been staring for much too long until you shrug back at him.

“Did you think I wasn’t?” You ask with creased brows and a lopsided smile.

The corners of his lips pull upwards as he looks at you, “I don’t know. You’re just so beautiful, I’m still not entirely convinced you aren’t some sort of hologram… or a robot.”

“Wow, you’re pretty smooth,” you say with a playful smirk, desperately trying to keep your composure— trying to play it cool, hoping that he hasn’t caught on to the fact that you’re secretly spiraling, because it took all of one smile and one compliment and you were done for. “But, I’ll have you know that flattery won’t work on me. I’m here for the spaghetti and the spaghetti alone.”

“My apologies,” Aegon says with a chuckle as he holds his hands up defensively. “Right this way, then.”

He steps to the side, allowing you to enter his apartment, and shuts the door behind you. It’s nice, clean, smells like fresh baked bread and tomato sauce. There’s niche artwork adorning the walls, he’s got candles burning, and there’s some lowkey, downtempo R&B playing softly in the background. He quickly moves past you and disappears into the kitchen, leaving you to follow him.

However, before you can take all of two steps into his apartment, a flash of golden fur is suddenly at your hip, pawing for attention. You drop down to a knee and happily accept any and all kisses from the pup. “Oh! Hi, what’s your name?”

Aegon sticks his head around the corner and says, “That is Sunfyre. In case you were wonderin’, he’s a very good judge of character and I will be consultin’ with him later where you’re concerned, fair warning.”

You roll your eyes and scratch behind Sunfyre’s ears, his tail thumps in approval.

“Would you like something to drink?” He continues and disappears back into the kitchen. “I’ve got wine and bottled water. Oh, and milk?” There’s a rustling in the kitchen before Aegon adds with a nervous chuckle, “scratch that, there is no milk.”

You politely excuse yourself from Sunfyre and step into the small dining room off of the kitchen.

There’s a grin on your lips, which you pursed so that he doesn’t think you’re laughing at him. Sunfyre joins the two of you and circles around his owner’s legs as Aegon empties an almost full half-gallon of milk down the drain. His kitchen is small but looks to be well used, which you appreciate. You know almost nothing about this man, other than his name- if ‘Aegon’ was even his real name- and the name of his dog, and yet here you were, standing in the threshold of his kitchen with a strange sense of comfortability as if you had been lifelong pals.

“Water is fine,” you tell him.

He produces a bottle of water from his fridge and tosses it over to you with ease and goes back to the stove. You step further into the kitchen, taking in your surroundings. The kitchen, like the living room, is covered in artwork and vintage decor- things you’d only find in some obscure thrift store or estate sale. On the refrigerator are a collection of magnets from different cities and countries, real touristy type shit. Some of them even had names on them; Alexander, Aaron, Alistair, Alan, Adolf.

Maybe these are the names of people he’s killed.

“You travel a lot?” You ask, trying to keep the conversation going.

“I try to,” he says from over his shoulder as he continues to stir the sauce. You can hear him set the lid back on the pot. “Most of those are from my sister, Helaena. She thinks it’s hilarious to give me magnets with random ‘A’ names since you’ll never find the name Aegon on any of those,” he says from behind you. He’s leaning against the counter with a half glass of wine. You quirk an eyebrow at him, not fully convinced. “She has a few from me that say Helen.”

“Is that her?” You ask, finger pointing to a pretty blonde in one of the many photographs he had pinned up.

He nods and takes a step closer to you. He’s so close that you can feel his warmth, smell his aftershave. The proximity causes you to blush and he smirks in response, leaning over your shoulder as he points to the other people in the pictures. “Those two are my little brothers, Aemond and Daeron,” he claims and then points to two women. “That’s my half-sister, Rhae, and next to her is my mother.”

“The redhead?” You ask surprised, given she didn’t look like she could be old enough to have four grown children. He nods and takes a step back, leaning against the counter with half-lidded eyes and a tipsy blush. “She looks like she could be your sister,” you say softly, turning back to glance at all of the faces; he seemed proud of his family, like they were very close.

You turn away from the fridge and lean against the counter at his side. It’s quiet for a moment, save for the music and the sound of boiling water where the noodles were cooking. You look at him and the corners of your lips can’t help but twist up into a shy smile, but you bite at the inside of your cheek out of nervous habit. He props himself up on his elbows, taking a sip of his wine, clearly comfortable with the silence.

“So,” you look up at him and his little smirk grows. “About the job…”

“Ah, yes,” he nods. “As I stated earlier, I won’t be able to pay you a monetary wage, but the position does come with a benefits package.”

“And what exactly would this benefits package include?” There’s an innocent flirtatiousness in your voice that only adds to the tension.

“Outside of the free gourmet meals that I would be providin’ to ya, which is obviously the most important part,” he smiles and steps to the side to grab a spoon from the drawer and holds it out to you. Your fingers softly close around his as you pluck the utensil from his grasp. He clears his throat to distract from the fact that he was visibly flustered from the slight touch. “There’s also unlimited cuddle sessions,” before he can finish, you shoot him a look. “With Sunfyre, of course! He’s the real boss ‘round here, after all.”

“Cuddling with the boss?” You quirk an eyebrow and look down at the golden retriever, his eyes round and gleaming; clearly waiting for a hand-out. “Sounds like a conflict of interest to me.”

“Well, if it’s a conflict of interest you’re worried about,” he counters quickly with a soft yet playful tone. “I s’pose we could renegotiate the terms of the agreement and you could have me instead.”

“I’m listening.”

“He might be better at cuddling for obvious reasons and he might be better lookin’,” Aegon continues. “But, I give better backrubs. I mean, I have thumbs and he don’t. You can’t give decent backrubs without thumbs, can you? Plus, he’s a sloppy kisser.”

“Oh, you’re really trying to sweeten the deal now, huh? Backrubs and kisses? I must admit, that is quite a compelling offer,” you muse. “It seems my decision hinders on whether or not you can actually cook, wouldn’t want to accept the position blindly, now would I?”

“Are ya doubtin’ my skills?” He asked playfully.

“No offense, but you possess the aura of someone who could fuck up a can of Spaghettios,” you tell him with a sincere smile. “So, forgive me if I don't get my hopes up.”

Aegon laughs and it’s a warm and infectious sound that fills the kitchen. It’s genuine, as is his perfect smile. You can’t seem to keep yourself from staring; eyes softly tracing every detail of his face– from his full, pink pout, to the scar above his right eyebrow, and the dimple of his chin– thinking to yourself that you’ve never seen a man more beautiful. His smile turns back into a smirk as he notices you staring at his lips and you look up to meet his eyes. There’s something about the way he looks at you that leaves you feeling vulnerable. His gaze softens as you look away, turning your attention back to the spaghetti sauce on the stove in front of you to distract yourself from the blush creeping up your neck.

There’s only one way this night ends.

It was obvious before you even left your house and it was certainly obvious now.

“Go on, then,” he prods, motioning to the pot on the stovetop.

His eyes are wide with anticipation as you dip into the simmering sauce, stirring it a few times before bringing the spoon to your lips. He’s nervous; it’s his mother’s recipe– one he’s spent years perfecting– but with his luck, you will most likely think it’s steaming garbage. Yet, he watches intently; holding his breath as your perfect lips curl to blow softly, cooling the sauce before you finally taste it.

The moment the spoon touches your tongue, you're determined to remain impartial. After all, you’ve had your fair share of disappointing meals from men who’ve claimed to be great cooks. Aegon certainly could be the very latest and you wouldn’t be at all surprised. So, you keep your expectations low, and try your hardest to remain stoic, but as the flavors begin to unfold, you can feel your resolve wavering.

It’s good. Better than most.

Reluctantly, you have to admit that this is the second-best sauce you’ve ever had, right after your grandmother’s. You glance up at Aegon, who’s watching you with a mix of anxiety and hope, and you can’t help but smile.

“I have to give it to you,” you say, your voice betraying a hint of admiration. “This is incredible. Almost as good as my grandmother’s.”

The relief and pride that spread across his face makes your heart flutter.

“Yeah?” He asks with a toothy grin.

“I’m still not completely convinced that you can actually cook, but you can– at the very least– make some top-notch spaghetti sauce,” you tell him as you place your spoon to the side.

“Top-notch, eh?” He asks playfully as he begins plating your meal. “I’ll take it.”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you say to him with a laugh. “It’s just spaghetti sauce.”

“Just spaghetti sauce? Don’t let my mum hear you say that,” he says with a smirk, setting a full plate in front of you on the counter. “I guess I’ll just have to work extra hard on the next one.”

“Assuming there will be a next one,” you reply, tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “Though, you have set the bar pretty high tonight. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Well,” he murmurs as he steps closer, his body brushing against yours as he reaches around you to grab a plate. His lips are hovering above the shell of your ear, his voice low and teasing, causing your cheeks to immediately flush as the heat between the two of you intensifies. “I’m nothing if not a perfectionist.”

For a split second you expect for him to lean in for a kiss. Your heart is simultaneously skipping beats and racing at the same time; your breath catching in your throat as he leans in— But then he smirks, grabbing the plate and taking a step backwards. He’s doing it on purpose, you realize; his proximity expertly calculated to keep you on edge. You look up at him with wide, sparkling eyes and he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. The soft blush of your cheeks has his blood pumping and sends a surge of adrenaline through him. He’s trying his absolute best to play it cool but the way you’re biting your lip and looking at him has him unraveling.

“Is that so?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “What other skills do you have up your sleeve?”

His grin widens as he looks down at you, setting his empty plate to the side. His gaze, once again, drops to your lips. “I have a few tricks,” he says softly, his voice filled with promise. “But I doubt you’d believe me if I told you, so how about I just show you?”

“What?” You ask with a playful innocence. “Before dinner?”

“I’m not really in the mood for spaghetti anymore.”

“Oh?” Your smirk is only growing. “What are you in the mood for?”

Aegon says nothing, but a confident grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he rests his hands on your hips. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you in by the waist, until you’re pressed against him and his lips are on yours. The kiss is both gentle and urgent and a little bit awkward, as any first kiss should be. You felt like a teenager again, kissing a boy for the first time– butterflies in your stomach and all.

It takes no time at all for you to find your rhythm with him, and he deepens the kiss, pushing you up onto the kitchen counter to meet his height. Your arms naturally drape across his shoulders, your legs wrap around his middle. He’s completely taken over your mind, filling up every tiny space that he can fit into; the smell of his cologne, the scratch of his stubble against your skin, the feeling of his hands squeezing the flesh of your thighs– his fingertips teasing just underneath the hem of your shorts.

Breathless, he pulls away from you as he pulls your sweatshirt over your head. He stops for a moment to take in the sight of you; clad only in your bra and shorts, lips red and blotchy, swollen and full. You’re looking up at him from under your lashes, softly biting your bottom lip as you wait for him to continue. He gently lifts his hand up to your cheek and traces the curve of your cupid’s bow with his thumb, providing one last show of tenderness before he leans in to capture your lips in another searing kiss.

His touch is suddenly rushed; spreading a wildfire across your skin in the wake of his lips as he rips off the remainder of your clothes. It doesn’t take long at all before you’re sitting exposed on his kitchen counter in only a thong, blushing wildly and covering your face with your hands.

“No– no hiding,” he clicks his tongue and pulls your hands away from your face. “I want to see you.”

He whispers a string of profanities and compliments as his starving eyes roam your figure. Self-doubt creeps into your mind and you momentarily consider making a quick exit, convinced he won’t like what he sees, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel desired in a way you haven’t felt in a long time.

Aegon’s gaze is electrifying and intense, drawing you in and silencing your negative thoughts instantly. His hands pull you in by the waist, sliding you to the edge of the counter as his lips work their way down your chin and neck; leaving a trail of red marks down to your chest. He hums, smirking as he takes one of your breasts in his mouth. His hand kneads the other, rolling your hardened nipple between two fingers. Your head falls back, lips parted slightly as you breathe out his name.

Each sound he elicits from you urges him on even further until he’s on one knee, looking up at you from his position with those pretty eyes. He runs a hand up the back of your calf, softly teasing you with his fingertips before tossing your leg over his shoulder. You knew where he was going, and yet, you were still surprised as he began placing open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs; shivering in anticipation as goosebumps formed on your skin.

“You’re so wet,” he says proudly, praising you.

His eyes are locked with yours as his fingers delicately smooth over your clothed clit. He hooks a finger around the dampened cotton and pulls your thong to the side, groaning at the sight of your perfect pussy. Without wasting another second, Aegon’s mouth is suddenly on you and your hands immediately find the back of his head; fingers curling into the roots of his silver hair.

You roll your hips against his tongue, cursing out as your legs begin to shake. He moans, face still buried deep in you and the vibrations have you writhing. Both of his arms are wrapped around your thighs now, holding you tight to him, not letting up for even a second. Then he stands, lifting you up onto his shoulders. You squeal in shock, holding onto him tightly, but he doesn’t stop; he continues to devour you as he blindly carries you towards his bedroom.

When his knees hit the side of his bed, he tosses you back onto the mattress.

You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as he strips out of his clothes. . You can see the outline of his arousal; prominent and pressing firmly against the fabric of his sweats. You bite your lip at the sight and he smirks as he catches your stare. His movements are unhurried, giving you ample time to appreciate the sight before you. His hoodie and shirt come off first, then his sweats, and you can’t help but notice the way that his muscles flex with each motion. He’s not overly built, but there’s a solid strength in his frame that is evident in the way he moves.

Outside, headlights from passing cars cast streaks of light and shadows across the walls of his room. It’s quiet, the music in the other room has stopped playing and all you can hear is the sound of your own heart beating in your ears. You swallow thickly, encompassed by the tension of the moment as he crawls up the length of your body; placing tender kisses along your skin. His lips leave a trail of warmth, each touch igniting a spark that travels through your entire body.

When he reaches your face, he pauses, his breath mingling with yours as he hovers just inches away. The anticipation builds, thick and electric in the air between you. His lips find yours in a kiss that starts slow and tender but quickly deepens; fingers threading through your hair as he pulls you closer, his body pressing yours deeper into the plush mattress. Your hands explore his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, feeling the tension and strength beneath his skin and coming to rest on his shoulders; gripping tightly as he continues to worship your body with his mouth. Each kiss, each touch, is deliberate, heightening your senses and pulling you further into the moment.

You curse at the feeling of his girth against your entrance. Your hand moves up to the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips as he presses slowly into you.

“Oh fuck,” he whimpers into the crook of your neck as his arms become weak.

He knows that he won’t last like this; it’s been a while and you feel way too good. He’s slow at first, wanting to steady himself and maintain control, but his rhythm picks up quickly; hips moving with an unrelenting rhythm, each thrust bringing you both closer to the edge. You can feel his muscles tense, his grip on you tightening as he buries his face in your neck. His moans are a mix of pleasure and desperation, and you can tell he’s fighting to hold back.

You tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, feeling the overwhelming need to reach that peak together. His pace quickens, the tension in his body building to a breaking point. You feel the same pressure inside of you mounting before it’s suddenly crashing over you like a wave. He follows seconds later, a low groan escaping his lips as he spills into you. The intensity of the moment leaves you both breathless and clinging to each other, bathing in the afterglow.

“That was incredible,” he murmurs against your skin, head pressed to your chest as you stroke his hair softly. His eyes flutter shut as he listens to the sounds of your heartbeat.

You hum in agreement, smiling to yourself as you savor the peacefulness of the moment.

Suddenly, you’re joined by Sunfyre jumping up on the bed, his tail wagging enthusiastically. You smile at him and pat the empty space next to you, inviting him to join your cuddle session. He eagerly accepts the invitation, circling the bed a few times before snuggling up next to you. Aegon lifts his head and smiles, clearly pleased that you would be so open to having the dog in bed with you. He wraps his arm around both you and Sunfyre, pulling you closer.

“This is perfect,” he says softly, his voice filled with contentment as he lays his head back on your chest.

"So, about that job offer," you say playfully, your fingers tracing patterns along his skin. "I think I'll accept the position. When would you like for me to start?"

He lifts his head to look at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “How about tomorrow night at seven?”

Before you can respond, a distinct burning smell reaches your nose. Your brows furrow as you sniff the air. “Do you smell that?”

Aegon’s eyes widen in realization. “The spaghetti!”

He jumps up from the bed, pulling on his clothes quickly, and scrambles into the kitchen. You follow behind him, tossing one of his t-shirts over your head and meet him in the kitchen.

“I guess I forgot to turn off the burner,” Aegon looks disappointed but then chuckles, shaking his head. He looks at you with a glint in his eye and smirks. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”

“Oh, that sucks!” You laugh, playfully nudging him. “Is it too late to back out of the job now?”

“Way too late for that,” he says as he pulls you into a soft kiss, silencing any doubts immediately. “You’re mine now.”

“Mm,” you hum against his lips. “But I came here for the spaghetti.”

He chuckles and pulls back slightly. “Will you settle for pizza?”

“I’ll settle for anything, as long as it’s with you,” you say with a smile as you wrap your arms around his waist. “And as long as there’s extra cheese!”

2K notes · View notes

gladiatorcunt · 6 months ago

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- # GIVE A FLY SOME HONEY !!

all roads lead to death valley

cw: southern setting & accents, sui ideation/thoughts, protected sex (are you proud of me), dead dove ending and undertones, sort of ambiguous, virgin cowboy!anakin x virgin afab!reader, ROTS coded!anakin, r2’s a horse, the force is in place of the christian God and is referred to as such at times, star wars being a fictional franchise in a star wars au fic, weird mix of a farm and a ranch, spanking, clit slapping, biting, reader’s inner freak has some crazy thoughts, mentions of humiliation and collaring/choking, anakin murders somebody (one scene of violence), what a heat advisory and the south’s sex education does to a mf, implied plus size and neurodivergent!reader, kidnapping????????????, mention of drugs, reader has a lot of internalized shame about where they’re from

wc: 4.2k (unedited)

what if instead of star wars it was called 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 wars

consider commissioning me!

Your unlucky streak rears its ugly head yet again. June was already shaping up to be a hot month, and your junkyard car wouldn’t start. You’re used to driving long stretches of road with nothing but livestock in fields to gawk at, it comes with the territory. But you couldn’t afford gas and decided to push your luck on the way back home, nevermind that the drive would be at least 20 hours. Moving to the city had its drawbacks, the road trip to and back being one of them.

“No, no. Come on, please work. Do you need me to fucking sing to you or something?” You groan, fruitlessly twisting your key in the ignition over and over.

Nope, “Tough shit.” Your engine mocks, death coughs sputtering out one after the other.

“ ‘You havin’ trouble?” A masculine voice shouts from behind you.

You get startled by the sound and gracefully slam your head up into the roof of the car as you turn around. You must look like quite the sight, clutching your now throbbing head and stumbling out of your broken down hand-me-down car on a long open road. Once you’ve blinked enough to adjust to the harsh sunlight, your eyes land on a tall muscular figure riding a horse. The clip clop of the horse’s dirty hooves on the gravel pierce your ears but the gentle sway of the man’s fluffy hair softens the blow.

“Um…. yes, sir. I am actually. My…. my car won’t start and I’m all out of gas.” You burn with embarrassment as you get through your explanation, trying your hardest not to throw up from the sheer social anxiety.

“Well that ain’t no biggy, I think I can help with that.” The man cocks his head and hops down from the horse, a white stallion with a few faded black-gray spots here and there. “Stay here, R2.”

You’re standing there dumbly, ignoring the tiny rocks digging into your shoes and the pounding in your skull as the cowboy wanders up to you. The sun bounces off his dark hat in a way that gives him a sort of halo, and you gape like a fish when he tips it down at you in a silent greeting, reaching out to shake your hand after. The silver spurs on his boots reflect sunlight directly onto your face, so you miss his open palm the first time.

His hand is rough, you can feel numerous old scrapes and cuts when you accept the gesture. But it’s so much bigger than yours, and there’s strange heat coming from his skin that you’re hesitant to pin on the southern summer sun. Too handsome, in a way that just can’t be possible, you quickly swipe a fingertip over his ring finger during the handshake and The Force must be looking out for you because there’s no ring. Not that you’re seeking anything out, but in the town you’re from, you’re lucky if anyone makes it past 18 without having a baby and getting hitched as a result.

Anakin tinkers away at your car for over an hour, finding more problems than just a lack of gas. Eventually he determines that you’ll die in this heat before you can back on the road, so he asks you to accompany him back to his ranch and he’ll send out one of his employees to bring your car around. You try to show him that you’re listening by ‘hm’-ing and nodding every so often, but it’s hard to rip your eyes away from a very attractive man bent over and sweaty while he’s fixing your car. You definitely do not want to cry when his flannel lifts up as he wipes the sweat on his forehead away with his greasy hand, revealing the slight softness over his muscles.

Since your car was no longer an option, Anakin grins as he gestures towards his horse, “R2’s a good horse, won’t give you any trouble. He likes to make a lot of noise and has an… acquired sense of humor, but I reckon we’ll get back just fine.”

He has you practice getting off and on the horse for a good while, the next step is letting you adjust to the feeling of being on one. You’d be embarrassed that Anakin’s having to teach you how to ride but his hands curl around your waist, keeping you steady and whispering in your ear to not be so stiff. Horses can smell fear after all, it’d suck to not only have your car be broken but your bones too. It’s a scene straight out of a cheesy romance novel, the kind that’s a tiny yellowed book sold almost exclusively in run down gas stations with a cover not far off from a porno.

Your cheeks are burning the entire way to the ranch, you relax as much as you can on an animal that’s a few hundred pounds of muscle with a searing hot body pressed right up against you from behind. It doesn't take long to get to your destination though, and before you know it sprawling fields bracket a mid size homey wooden building. There are some smaller pens for the cows to stay in and you follow their movement as an employee unlatches the gate and leads them out towards the left most field.

“They gotta switch pastures every so often.” He informs you, urging his horse into an energetic trot, “And it’s a good rule of thumb to have about an acre per cow.”

You tighten your hold on the reins and try not to focus on your fear of falling off. The pace of R2 isn’t one that you struggle to match but then again this is the first time you’ve ever ridden a horse in a long time. You’ve always been too skittish to do it regularly, and when you moved you got rid of the hobby entirely. You take a deep breath and let the horse’s movements travel through you, coming to enjoy the gentle jostling as you go. Anakin keeps his hands around yours on the reigns, making sure you don’t panic and seize up. R2’s not really beginner friendly unless he likes his rider, he has a tendency to just whinny and take off when the spirit moves him.

“The Force has done me good and given me a nice house on nice land, but it don’t mean nothin’ if i’m all by my lonesome. Ever since my dad passed and my ma’ died a few years after that, the workers and the cows are all I got, plus R2 of course.”

All right, he sinks into the jargon a little too much, but the way the sun accentuates the scar on his cheek makes it a charming quirk. You want to lick his teeth when he smiles, you think, before blaming it on an oncoming heatstroke. You’re no better than a man in this moment, and if you had seen him soaking up all of the attention in a crowded room in a bar you’d have no business being in, you like to think that you could pull him. You play with the slightly waxy feel of the leather reins, allowing the sensation of coarseness in the stitching to overpower any coherent thought.

“Why’d you name your horse R2?” You ask, ducking your head as you feel him guide the animal towards the stables.

“Oh uh, I was real wild over these sci fi movies from back when I was a kid. The hero had this robot called R2-D2, and I guess it just stuck with me.” He answers you with a shrug and a mild blush, curving his fingers around yours.

Your stomach warms at the feeling, but you refrain from returning the gesture, he probably isn’t even thinking that deeply about what he’s doing. He’s not obsessing over every square inch of skin that comes into contact with his own, not like you. You’re already missing the comforting weight of Anakin’s herculean body when he’s pulling the reins to stop R2 and hopping off, clamping his big hands around your waist and helping you down. You wobble for a bit and find your footing before you can pick up on how he momentarily froze in front of you, anticipating an easy opportunity to touch you again. Force, you really are stupid, bless your heart.

You glance up at him and start to say something but then you hear rustling in the bushes, Anakin must hear it too because before you can tug on his sleeve and tell him, he’s pulling his revolver out from its holster and striding off towards the sound. You’re quick to learn that he has a bit of a one track mind, especially when it comes to indulging the serpent twisting in between his ribs like a switchblade.

“I’ll be damned…”

You’re supposed to head inside and awkwardly linger around until your car is in good enough condition to get you back to Coruscant. The only thing is, you’ve now found yourself without your new security blanket, and your curiosity agrees with how much you don’t fucking want to speak to any of the people here without Anakin to hide behind. R2 loudly chuffs at you from his stall in the stables, either saying “That’s just how he is, leave him be!” or "What are you doing? You should obviously go after him!” You choose to believe it’s the latter, so you wander off into the distance, following Anakin’s lead.

You catch up to him quicker than you thought you would, and you have half a mind to scold him like a child if you weren’t catching your breath. All you can see is his wide shoulders because he’s hunched over something, your heartbeat quickens when you spot his gun being pointed at something. You circle around him to find a man squirming on the ground like a toddler, twitching every so often. Anakin seems almost enthralled by the desperate display, so he doesn’t notice you until you gingerly place a hand on his shoulder, soft and looking to soothe. Later you won’t remember the blood on the man’s temple or the matching stain on the muzzle of Anakin’s gun, because you didn’t witness that part.

He snaps out of it, turning his head to nuzzle his nose against your knuckles, “ ‘s alright, sweetheart, just a meth head too out of his mind to watch where he’s goin’. Had a knife with him, probably lookin’ to rob somebody blind.”

Your eyes flicker between him and the man, fully aware of how common stuff like drug addicts trespassing is and the old fashioned black and red ‘Trespassers Will Be Shot On Sight’ sign. You’ve grown up around guns, you’re more used to hearing them in a hunting or taking shots at beer bottles kind of way, but it’s not like Anakin’s the only one to have that kind of self enforced rule when it comes to his property. Still… killing a human man is different than making use out of a successful deer hunt, right?

“Maybe we should call the cops, he can’t hurt nobody like that…” You try to reason, casting a pitiful glance towards the cowering man.

There’s a scratch on Anakin’s face that’s still bleeding from the knife the guy had used before Anakin took it, it just barely missed his right eye, he could’ve lost it. You’ll ask to help him with it when you get back to the ranch, but you know that there’s no seeing to it right now. You don’t want to risk an infection just so you could brush your thumb across the wound, you’re not even sure why you want to, it’s like the urge just materialized in your head out of thin fog. Anakin gently shrugs your hand off and uses his free one to pull you against his chest, and it’s like you’re back on his horse, that same fear entwined with exhilaration like barbed wire. Your hearts are beating at the same pace, some folks say that’s how you know it’s love, that’s how you know it’s fate.

“You don’t got the stuff in ya to be a killer, that’s just fine, darlin’. ‘Cause I sure do.” His words dissolve into a previously unknown to you cold sneer.

Anakin clamps a burly, sweaty hand over your eyes as he empties the entire magnum into the tresspasser’s skull. The bright sun bounces off the brim of his hat, casting a shadow over his stormy eyes. He may not have let you witness the massacre, but you will never forget the sickening yelps the poor bastard gave to Anakin like prayer. And then he got put down in a more inhumane fashion than if he were a rabid dog. To your gracious host, there’s probably not a whole lick of difference. Between a wanderin’ sap and a deranged mutt, that is.

But there’s a far off expression on his face, maybe he was once at risk of having two bullets in his temple at the hands of someone unforgiving.

“Welp.” Anakin exclaims, making a point of slapping his thigh as he holsters his pistol. “Better head on home now, I reckon. Come on, honey, don’t want to lose you to the coyotes.”

It’s said like “kai-yohtes.” You balk at his teasing and obediently trail after him, a vulnerable duckling staying in line. The storm is hitting hard by the time you’re out of the woods, and you briefly wonder if the Angels up in heaven are gonna start bowling soon. A saying that got passed around in your family, when you and the ones before you would stare up in wonder and shiver in fear at the thundering purple skies as kids. You remember being surprised that one of the Angels’ bowling balls never fell down to earth, maybe it’d be somethin’ like a meteorite.

As is the case with many things, it’s easy to lose sight of the fresh corpse in the dry grass. Once you turn around and thread your finger through Anakin’s, dirtying them, it’s almost like that man never existed. There must be something wrong with you, sure the situation is so unimaginable that it would be hard to cope with, but shouldn’t you be feeling more guilt than you do? You feel bad, of course, but ‘easy come and easy go’ has always been the way of things in these parts. God giveth and God taketh away.

You’re back where you should be, a narrow dirt path going under a wooden fence to the ranch. Grand trees line the road forming a moss green canopy. A few workers are goofing off and playing a very amateur game of football, blissfully ignorant to the fact that Anakin can obviously see them from his place next to you.

It would be a peaceful place to die, a bright and clear afternoon-evening in the way that the world can only be when you’re about to leave it. That’s how you’d want it to feel, like you’re rowing a boat across the lake you used to go fishing at to see people you’d never thought you’d see again waiting for you. Fall leaves, blinding pale sun, a serene and calming quiet. You’d be the happiest you’ve ever been, skipping even though you never could as a kid. There’d be no sadness, only relief and a memento of everything that’ll only make sense when it’s someone’s turn to see you again. No buzzing from mosquitoes or chirping from crickets, only little lightnin’ bugs. Maybe you only get that kinda ending if you’re good, in the godly sense, if you come from something worth remembering.

Anakin raises an eyebrow and gently jostles you, and just like that your train of thought is derailed. He chalks it up to shock, and nods his head towards a clearing behind the building. A change of plans. You follow, as you are wont to do.

“That rat bastard had it comin’ to ‘im, hun.” He tries to reassure and squeezes your hand, imploring you to see reason. “The Force decided it was his time, sweet thing.”

You shake your head, not disagreeing, just in utter disbelief. “I just… most everyone in my life I've known that’s died did it when I wasn't there. I’ve never had to actually be there when they… you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” And that’s all he says, regardless of the truth.

It’s what you need, somehow he just understands exactly what that is. You’re starting to think that you certainly don’t have a damn clue. You look up at him again, really drinking in every facet of his entire being that you can latch onto and obsess over. You’re remembering why you were so anxious to get out of this sinkhole, it’s a miracle you ever got out of it in the first place. His hair’s all messy, dark curls strewn about like a windswept bale of hay. A storm is brewing in his eyes, like he could Earth to rotate in the opposite direction if he wanted it to. He works his jaw around in a weird way to get rid of the soreness after grinding his teeth.

It’s tantalizing, being the hand holding a man on the edge back from wreaking his God given havoc.

You dot a quick peck on his cheek, scrunching your nose up at the barest hint of prickly stubble.

His eyes widen, and the sun itself shines brighter. The cutest light dusting of pink spreads across his face, so he one ups you by pressing your lips together. It’s exactly how a first kiss should feel, a simple gesture that leaves you breathless and with more butterflies than a flower garden swarming in your tummy. There’s no fireworks, but you can hear wind chimes and birds singing as your lips glide together, the meeting of your tongues is so natural that you won’t be able to remember when his slipped through the seam of your mouth. You want to keen as he maps out your teeth, his spit has to have some kind of aphrodisiac in it.

Anakin works your jeans open and off your legs completely, his pupils expand when he sees your thick thighs in all their glory but he keeps himself from slapping them and acting like they’re the only part of your body. There’s an ever growing to do list in both of your heads, your combined inexperience brings a flurry of perverted ideas and porn scenarios to recreate with it, and you’re sad that you’ll very likely leave with none of them being fulfilled.

He yanks the collar of your tank below your chest, immediately leaving over to bite your cute breasts with all the grace of a rattlesnake. He doesn’t try to make any marks, he just wants to bite wildly and with reckless abandon, like he’s using your tits to self soothe. You’d do the same if he let you at his pecs to be fair, his chest is practically as big as yours if not bigger.

“This means somethin’ to me, hear that? ‘m always gonna remember my first.” He spits, clutching onto your bruised tit like he’s a split second away from sinking his hand into your viscera and dumpster diving for your heart.

He pauses pawing at your tits to reach in his back pocket and pull out a condom. It’s crumpled and the packaging is worn by rubbing against the denim of Anakin’s jeans, you can tell that he’s excited to finally put it to use. You’re glad that there’s some safety measures being taken, but your heart swoops in disappointment at the dose of reality. It’s the kind of thing that calls for the most diabolical, unhinged, strings of goopy fluid hanging from his balls as they slap against your rippling ass, raw sex. You don’t let yourself pout, Anakin’s making good use of the only working brain cell between the two of you. You scoot back on his lap to give him room to pop to button on his pants and whip his dick out. It makes a heavy ‘thwop!’ as it slaps against Anakin’s abs.

Your mouth waters at the sight, so thick with the just right amount of curve, it would scratch your throat perfectly. His hands shake harder as he rips the condom’s packaging open with his teeth and rolls it on his twitching length. You take a deep breath, finding comfort in the tense muscles on Anakin’s shoulders through his warm flannel. He curls a hand around the base of his cock and grasps it tightly, positioning it right under your empty hole. You’re lucky he didn’t have to tell you what to do, because working yourself down every inch would’ve been much more painful if you already needed to be taught a lesson. It’s weirdly sweet, the chaste pecks he presses along your nose and jawline as you adjust to what feels like a tree log forcing your tender folds to stretch around it. Your slutty body tries to twist itself in a pretzel with the way you’re swiveling your hips, trying to get more of Anakin’s dick inside of you when you’ve miraculously already swallowed him to the hilt.

“I want this pretty pussy weepin’ for me, I’m awfully sorry honey but i’m not stopping till it’s gushin’ all over me.” He speaks in between wet kisses up and down the column of your throat.

“Mmm- It’s okay, I want it like that, Ani. Promise- oh my god, so big.”

You make him feel like a man trying to outrun a forest fire only to get swept up in a tornado. Like there’s a fever in his brain that’s gotten into his blood, black tar dripping into his liver. Drives a man to drink so he can have a sliver of that feeling, that scalding need not even God could give you. There’s no finesse or coordination to anything, his lips frantically scurry along random spots on your upper body. His upward thrusts are heavy hitting and wrangle your breath out in stuttered gasps, he moves as if he were riding a horse, following only the imagined scent of old blood. Anakin’s cock is so big your walls could rip if he wasn’t always keeping a sharp eye on how much he’s bullying you. He doesn’t try anything crazy like fucking your cervix, it might shock you so much that you remeber exactly how long it’s been since he’s had your car “taken to the shop”.

His spurs dig into the dirt as he slaps your ass, the material of his gloves adding an extra bit of ‘umph!’ to the resulting sting. Anakin’s jeans are so warm against your ass that it takes a few more spanks before you really get the urge to bend over his lap and tell him to just have at it until you sob. You’re on an ecstatic high, living in the present with a near stranger’s dick balls deep inside of you. His eyes gleam gold when you make eye contact, and you find it so easy to fall down the rabbit hole, letting this man burn away all your responsibilities until he’s the last one left standing in a sea of ashes.

You don’t mind that he stops talking eventually, switching to gruff grunts and harsh yells. ‘Don’t be so stiff, let the movement roll through you.’ Anakin digs his fingers into the meat of your jiggling ass and delivers a final smack to both cheeks. You sigh in relief, but then you snap out of your cockdrunk haze to yelp at the cruel hit to your swollen clit.

“Need ya to keep squeakin’ sweets.” He orders. “Don’t want the townsfolk to think I fucked your brain out your ears.”

It’d be polite to make conversation with the people you meet when Anakin parades you around with his hat on your head later, something of a pre engagement tour. If the Force is good, you’ll be willing, because rope burn isn’t something you want to become your new normal.

“Chin up, buttercup,” He says almost bashfully despite how hard he’s pounding your puffy cunt, “We can get some ice cream at the fair after if ya like, make it a cute little second date.”

You whimper and harshly pull his hair, earning you a throaty moan and another slap to your clit, saying yes to him like you’ve already done a million times. You thought that the pure social anxiety of being around so many of Anakin’s employees would be nerve wracking, it’s nothing compared to having to speak to them AND keep their boss’s cum from oozing down your leg. Anakin’s discarded belt catches your eye when a sharp thrust sends your head falling back, and you picture the scuffed up belt buckle as the O shaped ring of a more traditional collar. The black stains from working on your car only add to the appeal, it scares you exactly how much you’d let the man fucking you with a cheap gas station condom get away with. You’ve already heard him kill a man, finding yourself in a relationship is pretty much the natural next step.

When he cums deep inside with a hoarse growl, there’s the sound of a bear trap slamming shut on an unsuspecting bunny rabbit. Your simultaneous orgasm is the tiny squeal it makes before it dies.

“I forgot to ask, hun, what stuffed animal do ya want me to win for ya?”

- faetreides 2024. do not repost, translate, or put my works into ai

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bonny-kookoo · 10 months ago

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Jungkook

𝐄𝖝𝖊𝖈𝖚𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖗 | Teaser

When second chances are wasted, there's only one thing left to do.

Tags/Warnings: Dystopian AU, Werewolf AU, Alpha!Jungkook, Omega!Reader, Angst, Some fluff, romance but he's a bit weird about it pls let him cook he's awkward okay, Violence, crime and.. bad stuff.

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: oh look another werewolf fic oops. BTW if you do not like any of the tags or the trailer doesnt vibe with you, don't read the story. I literally have tons of other content for you instead. Thanks.

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“Do you think that people can change?”

No. Jungkook does not believe that people have the ability to shed their dark desires once they've shown their ugly faces to the world. Once someone has lost control over themselves and their inner demons even just once, it’s over. A wolf's inner beast set free won’t be tamed again, by anyone. There is no coming back from that- and a crime committed has to be punished, especially when there’s not even any effort put into areas trying to redeem one’s self. second chances should always be valued highly if given-

Because everyone has to face judgement for their actions, and if those second chances are wasted, he is the man who will execute the fitting punishment.

Jungkook doesn't believe in second chances.

A man who’s laid his hand on his wife will never truly change his mind and put the shackles onto himself after the line has been crossed. A cheating spouse will not suddenly become loyal as a dog again just because they realize the hurt they’ve caused. A murderer can’t give back the life they’ve taken even if they desperately want to. A young wolf lost to a frenzy can’t gain back their sanity with the snap of a finger.

He is part of the new world’s law.

Violence is the punishment put on people who can’t seem to keep themselves in check even after second chances. Violence is the final answer to the worst of the worst, the people who will never change.

Violence is the thing that changes people- from being alive to no longer being a threat to anyone ever again.

To Jungkook, these people are like maggots, infesting the cities and homes of families who just want to exist and live. Jungkook is the pest control, he removes those insects, cleans out the infestations.

Saves potential victims.

“I didn’t do anything!” the man slurs a little, alcohol in his veins causing him to visibly struggle with his bodily functions, even if he wants to desperately be sober in this moment. You’re sitting in the corner still, watching, well aware not to interfere with a man sent by the people in charge of the wolf’s law to carry out the final judgement.

“Evasion. Armed robbery, twice. Domestic abuse, twice. Attempted kidnap of a child while intoxicated.” Jungkook lists, having memorized what this person is being accused of- or rather yet, has already been judged for in the past. “You’ve shown that you do not aim to change.” He says, not even looking at you once. Instead, he just walks closer, like a predator, staring down his prey. “And now, keeping an omega hostage? Not exactly the actions of a man innocent.”

“I-“ the man tries, but he doesn’t get far with his words. “-There’s- nothing happened- Tell him! Nothing happened, right-?” He asks you, who’s staring him down.

Jungkook looks at you as well now, awaiting your answer.

You’ve got a life in your hands.

Your lips part, but you can’t speak- when suddenly, the man moves again, lifts his hand as he steps towards you, ready to intimidate you into answering if needed- but Jungkook is faster, having seen enough. Even if nothing happened- yet- surely if he was to leave, you’d be another body found. “Where- where are you taking me?” the man begs to know, unable to really go against the hand that holds the back of his head by the hair, fingers tightly dug into the locks to have a secure hold on him as he drags him into a corner or the small, run down house.

In this moment, Jungkook looks like a different person to you. There’s no trace of the man who just wants to help others. The hands that force this stranger to his knees aren’t the same that helped you stand earlier that day, hold gentle and without any intention to hurt. Those eyes are dark as coal, like two black voids swallowing any reflection whole.

“I'll take you straight to hell, where you belong.” Jungkook simply answers the man, before he lets go-

And takes out his gun, to fire the first shot of many.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jeon jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook x reader

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ghibliwatcher · 2 years ago

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Denji taking interest in you | Yandere Denji x reader

— I’m still reading the first few chapters so it might not be accurate LMAO

Warning — not proofread, talks about murder briefly

After turning into Chainsaw Man for the first time, he met Makima. You were also there, but he didn’t notice at first since Makima was there to catch him from falling

The first time he notices you was during the car, where you take Makima’s jacket (she had asked you to, and you agreed) and put it over his bare shoulders. He was surprised to say the least, since you had treated him so kindly and not viewed him as trash

You sat there confused while Denji was staring intensely into your eyes (you were internally freaking out)

Makima saw this as an opportunity and pulled you aside while Denji was off to save a girl from a demon

“I think he likes you.” Makima smiled once she saw your confused look.

You had thought Denji had taken a liking towards Makima since her plan was to manipulate him into being his pet, so you brushed her comment off

“Why not? I bet you two could pull it off, and you know he has something I want. Why not make it easier for me since you two are the same age?”

You know her comment wasn’t a suggestion, more like an order. Once you saw Denji coming back with the girl, you reluctantly agreed

At first, you only saw Denji as a friend as you spent more time with him; however, Denji saw this as an opportunity

He begged you to feed him the soggy ramen because he couldn’t ‘move’

“Pleaseee, I can’t really move on my own…” How could you say no to those puppy eyes?

Makima smiled again as you and Denji interact with each other

As more time went on, Denji had started acting weird

Whenever you’re around with your male coworkers, Denji would bark at them to get away from you and hold your hand

“You would never leave me, right?” Denji had asked you once. You were quite taken aback, but your feelings had started to develop more for the boy so you replied with a “never”

His heart went SOARING after that

If you and him aren’t working together, he would throw a tantrum (even if Power was his partner, he would beg someone to replace her with you)

Denji was also trying to convince himself that you two were together. That’s why he was so ‘protective’ of you

Aki had a deep concern for the lovesick boy and had tried to talk to you about it, but Denji would always be sticking by your side 24/7

Once you two officially got together, Denji became more intimate with you (hugging you from behind, murdering anyone whoever dares to look at you)

You wondered why there were less coworkers now? And where was Aki? (You had also saw specks of blood on Denji but you assumed that it was from a devil)

In short, Denji is hopelessly in love with you and would do anything for you.

#chainsaw man #csm denji #denji x reader #x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #csm anime #csm x you #csm x reader #aki hayakawa #makima #power chainsaw man #reader included #yandere headcanons #chainsawman denji

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fishii-writes · 2 months ago

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alibi - reo mikage

paring: reo x gn!reader

cw: not proofread, intended lowercase, probably ooc reo (SORRY.), murder, mentions of blood (nothing graphic!), reo is a tiny bit possessive, a bit of swearing ("bastard", "assed"), lwk shitty ending. lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: i wrote this in like maybe 30 minutes... writers block kicked my ass but hey i wrote for once 🤯🤯 hope you enjoy, requests are open and i'm open to interactions as usual! forgive me this is shitty.

word count: 1111

based off the song alibi

it’s a common saying, red is the colour of love. who should deny it, love hearts, roses and everything nice are red! including the liquid staining your hands, clothes and skin. only a few specks of it flicked onto your white shirt, but your hands and face say otherwise.

another day, another night of killing under cover. you feel your shoulders loosen tiredly, watching the last desperate breaths escape the crimson liquid source. one last breath, their fingers that were curling in the air in futile attempt to cling onto, maybe life you think, fall to the floor. you flop down a safe distance away from the body, sighing out.

you hear clapping behind you, a short round of applause that anyone could guess are sarcastic. but not anyone could guess who the audience is. no one would even guess.

“my, my, [name]. you’ve outdone yourself once more~” a flirty voice, one you didn’t expect to hear, calls out. you don’t need to turn around to know what sick bastard was flirting with you, even after he watched you murder a person. a living being. well, now not living.

“mikage.” a name, or rather, last name, you hate having to leave your lips. you don’t turn around still, but you know he’s doing that — oh so cute — thing where he tilts his head slightly and pouts those pretty pink lips.

“how many times have i said, just call me reo? what, you’re tryna practice my last name before you take it?” he teases, walking closer. you can hear it, he wasn’t discreet about it either. he stops right behind you, looking down and smiling. a drop dead gorgeous smile, one that was sure to charm anyone who sees it.

you throw your head back, propped up on your arms as you lean back a bit, looking up at the — undeniably gorgeous — purple haired man.

“hmmm~?” he hums, teasing smirk on his lips. you roll your eyes.

“no. i’ve said it before, i’ll say it again. i don’t want to associate with you.” your eyebrows furrow at his sickeningly sweet smile. his smile doesn’t falter as he talks, its almost scary.

“might you remind me why?” his lips morph into a borderline fear-inducing grin, or maybe its his eyes. they do say, “its in the eyes.” yeah. maybe it is the eyes.

those ethereal lavender eyes, ones that glare holes into the backs of people who talk to you, people who touch you, your victims that speak back — basically everyone who isn’t him.

“because we are nothing. you give me orders to kill, i do. you’re not even a-” you get cut off by his smile suddenly fading, and his eyebrows furrowing so harshly they change the shape of his eyes.

“[name]. get up.” his tone changes, from flirty and sweet to as ordering as he is when giving you missions.

you look at him, a confused and weirded out look. he repeats his order, his voice laced with urgency and concern. you refuse again, so he — as gently as he can, but unfortunately, the haste made it rough — grabs your arm, dragging you to stand up and points to a large pillar.

“hide behind it, when they come in, run.” he whisper-shouts, gently rubbing the spot he grabbed your arm.

“mikage- what’s going on?!” without realising it, you also whisper-shout. he shakes his head, as if to say he won’t tell you.

“mikage!” you raise your voice, causing him to give you a dirty glare. a look he’s never looked at you with, let alone a glare.

scoffing in defeat, you drag yourself with a half-assed sense of urgency, to hide behind the pillar reo instructed. you peak over the edge, confused. it doesn’t make sense, not at all. but on the other hand, he’s a man of his word. he wouldn’t lie, roughly handle you and glare at you for no reason.

just as you’re about to question, he cuts you off.

“say, [name]. what were you going to say? what am i “not even”?” he asks, in a semi-bitter tone. but his eyes give him away. they look at you with a hint of guilt, of sadness and somehow love.

ew! reo mikage, the reo mikage! in love? with you? how scandalous!

if him being the head of an agency that hires people such as yourself to kill, yeah, that’s right. if that isn’t scandalous enough already.

“i was… i was gonna say, you’re not even an accomplice…” you mutter, and he somehow hears you from the distance he stands. he smiles, almost a little sadly. before shrugging.

“i don’t know, maybe i like another word better.” you watch as his smile almost screams cockiness.

but that’s when you notice. whenever he usually comes in after you finish, he stands beside you. never in direct view of the door, or any windows. so are you looking too far into this when you realise he’s walking backwards, slowly but surely, towards the door?

“mikage…” you mumble under your breath, hands sweaty from clinging onto the corner of the pillar.

“[name].” his eyes are serene, loving, even.

“mikage!” you yell out. he shrugs, eyes almost animated as his lashes touch his upper eyelids. oh.

“mikage don’t you dare do it-” you yell out again, pushing yourself off the pillar and running towards him. he simply winks, blowing you a kiss.

“have fun, and remember two things. one, call me reo.” he giggles, it’s terrifying.

“what do you mean?! are you serious?!” you freeze in place, as he shoos you away in a playful manner. but his now open eyes betray his feigned innocence.

“and two. i’m your alibi~” he blows you another kiss, before you hear loud sirens. red and blue lights seep through the small crack in the entrance doors, one of two exits in this abandoned warehouse.

“go, now. don’t want my love to go to waste. well, i guess we could both rot in jail together. ah! how romantic~” he does that — stupidly charming, even in this situation — thing again, he tilts his head and pokes the tip of his index finger into his plush cheek.

“reo!!” you yell out, watching him point to the exit once more. he mouths the words “go now”, and you do as he says. just in time, as well. the sirens blare even louder when you’re outside, they’ll turn off when he’s inside.

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rollingsins · 2 years ago

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all hers, part i

summary: “I’d kill everybody in this town before they’d take you away from me.” Tara says, eyes wild. “I’d kill everybody in the world. You belong to me.” ghostface!tara

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, possessive behavior, vaginal sex, murder of an OC character), smut.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: for anon, who requested some smutty, possessive ghostface!tara. very, very fun to write, let me know if you want me to write some more ;)

Four murders in seven days.

It was a nightmare. You’d heard the stories, sure. Seen the movies. But you’d never thought it would actually happen to you.

That’s what you got for transferring to Woodsboro of all places.

Your phone buzzes as you finish locking the remaining doors. It’s Tara. You smile instinctively as her name flashes across your screen.

where are you? still coming over?

You look outside. It’s dark already, and the thought of leaving the house when there’s a lunatic running around scares the shit out of you.

not tonight sorry, baby. lost track of time. don’t want to leave Chase here by himself.

You contemplate asking her over. Her sister is in town, and you’d been trying to give them some space to reconnect. Sam was with her, you assured yourself. Besides, the last thing you wanted was her leaving the safety of her home and getting attacked.

“YN! Popcorn ready?”

You drop your phone to the counter, check on the popcorn in the microwave.

Chase had been your first friend at Woodsboro High, before you’d met anyone else, even Tara. Since you’d started dating her, you hadn’t seen him much. He’d asked you over tonight - your parents were out and he didn’t want you on your own. He’d had a hankering, in somewhat bad taste, to marathon the Stab movies.

It was nice being with Chase again, even under such terrifying circumstances.

You tell him so.

“You know why that is, right?” He laughs, shoveling a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Your girlfriend hates me.”

You roll your eyes.

“She does not.”

“Does too. Every time I see her she gives me these eyes.”

He squints, twists his face into an angry glare.

“Like she wants to kill me.”

“You’re imagining it.” You tell him.

Throw a kernel of popcorn at him.

“Uh huh.” He says, turning his gaze back to the movie, “Sure.”

Talking about Tara had always been weird with him. He’d had a thing for you, back in the day, when you’d first met. He’d even asked you out once. But you already had your sights set on Tara and nothing could deter you. He’d taken it well-ish. So you’d thought.

“How are things going with her, anyway?” His voice casual. You look over.

“Good.” You say. “Great. Why do you ask?”

He doesn’t look away from the TV. Shrugs, but it’s tense. Like he’s trying to appear more non-committal. You suddenly feel uncomfortable.

“Just wondering.”

The movie plays a little, you let awkward silence wash over the room. Peer down at your phone. No response from Tara. Maybe you should have gone to her house after all.

“I-” He says suddenly, then stops. Purses his lips.

“What?”

“It’s nothing.” He says. “Nevermind.”

You stare.

“What, Chase?”

“I just get a weird vibe from her sometimes. That’s all.”

You blink, caught off guard.

“You don’t know her.” You say, instantly defensive. “There’s no vibe. She’s perfect. She’s the perfect girlfriend.”

And she was. She picked you up everyday at 8am on the dot to drive you to school. She walked you to class, held your books for you. Showered you with affection.

“She’s possessive.” Chase says. He’s looking at you now. Words spilling out of him like they’ve been pent up for a while. “You just don’t see it because you’re all moon-eyed for her. It’s not normal. It’s like you're her special toy and nobody else can play with you.”

“Stop.” You say.

“She’s isolated you from all your friends.” He continues. “You used to play soccer, remember? What happened to that? What about dance? All the things you used to love. You don’t do them anymore. Your whole world revolves around her.”

You stand up. A lump rises in the back of your throat. You’d come here to watch movies with an old friend, not have him berate you about your relationship.

“That isn’t true.” You say, “With school, I just don’t have time for those things anymore-”

“Because when you’re not in school, you’re with her.” He presses. “And she wants you with her all the time. Like I said, possessive.”

“Great to know how you really feel.” You say. Grab your phone.

“Sorry, YN. The truth hurts.” He slumps back into his seat, stares at the TV again. “Where are you going?”

“Bathroom.” You mumble.

You open your phone when you reach the bathroom, go straight to Tara’s contact.

She’s opened your message, but hasn’t replied.

“Great.” You say aloud. Your perfect girlfriend has left you on read.

You contemplate calling her, asking her to come get you. No. You chew on your bottom lip. You could just leave, chance an encounter with ghost-face. You decide against it. You’re annoyed with Chase, but not that annoyed.

You wash your hands. Head back downstairs. Flick Tara another message.

You’re not mad, are you? Love you. Wish I was with you instead. xx

Chase hasn’t moved. He looks up when you enter, looking a little sheepish.

“YN-”

“Don’t worry about it.” You say. Sink into the sofa, as far from him as possible. “Let’s just watch the movie.”

And you do. Forty minutes of cheesy dialogue and bad acting and not a word from Chase. You like it that way. You keep glancing at your phone, waiting for your girlfriend’s response. But nothing.

The movie’s over. You can hear the credits rolling, but your eyes are drooping. Half gone. Your phone long abandoned, Tara’s reply nowhere to be found. You’re dreaming of Hawaii in the summer. Pina colada in hand. Tara dressed in a bikini, waist deep in the water. Kissing her in the sand, not a care in the world.

Then you hear the crash.

Your eyes jerk open. You sit up. Startled. You look around the room. The TV has shut itself off. Chase is nowhere to be found. There are noises coming from the foyer. Your heart beats, fast. You look wildly around the room. You want something to defend yourself with.

You settle on a small wooden zebra. Some useless ornament only Chase’s mom would decorate with. It’ll do.

You hear scuffling. More crashing. Then, Chase’s voice, shrill - scared.

“Please! Stop!”

Your ears ring. Terror rips through you as you make your way into the hallway, quietly as you can.

Chase is on the floor, writhing, both his hands wrapped around a curved, silver dagger.

Your stomach drops.

It’s Ghostface.

Your bottom lip trembles. You want to run. Scream. Hide. All at once. But you can’t. You’re rooted to the spot, transfixed.

Ghostface raises his arm, steady. Then slams his dagger straight down and through Chase’s chest. Chase cries out. Blood gurgles from his lips. Ghostface stabs him, twice, then three times. Crazed. Possessed.

Your body gives way. You let out a scream. Topple backwards into the hallway cabinet.

Glass smashes around you. Ghostface looks straight at you.

Your back hurts from the fall. You writhe desperately on the floor, trying to get up. The Zebra has slipped from your fingers. Tears tumble down your face.

In your peripheral, you see Ghostface abandon Chase. Head straight for you.

You cry out as he makes a grab at you.

“Stop.” His voice is contorted, unnatural. He’s using a voice-changer. That same awful voice from that dumb movie you’d just watched. You sob as his hands tighten around you.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Don’t struggle.”

You flop out of his grip, kick up just in time to take the Zebra in your hands.

“I’m not here for you, stop-”

Your fingers tighten around the Zebra. You use all your force to smack it hard against Ghostface’s head. You hear him cry out. Fall back.

You’ve hit him hard. He clutches at his head as he falls back.

There’s a clang as his mask hits the ground.

Your breath hitches in your throat. Your chest seizes painfully. The Zebra in your hand slips out of your grasp and hits the floor.

“Tara?”

She looks up at you, her eyes wide, like a deer in headlights. Tears prick at the sides of your eyes. You blink.

She swallows. Stands upright.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” She says. The voice changer is gone. The sound of her voice makes you want to weep, “Don’t be scared.”

She edges towards you, slowly. As if you’re a baby rabbit that might startle at any moment. You see the gleam of her dagger in her hand. Still wet with blood.

“Tara.” You say again, voice trembling. You take a step back. Panic floods through you. How can this be happening?

“It’s me.” She assures. “You don’t have to be afraid. Look.” She holds out her hand, drops the dagger to the floor. It careens over the carpet. Stains it with blood.

She inches closer. You don’t realize just how close she is before she’s reaching out, tugging you into her open arms. Your body locks up. The shock, the panic, the lump at the back of your throat. Everything spills over. You blubber into her chest as she holds you tight.

“Shhh. It’s okay baby.” She comforts you, hands rubbing tight circles across your back. You want to push her off. You want to run. But you can't, you're frozen, all you can do is bawl. She tilts your head up to her. Rubs her nose against yours. She smells metallic. Like blood. She’s covered in it, you realize with a start.

You tremble.

“Don’t be scared.” She repeats. Strokes her fingers along your cheeks. “My pretty girl. I would never hurt you.”

Her eyes are wild. Pupils blown. No trace of your sweet, loving girlfriend. You don’t recognize the person in front of you. You want her off you. But you don’t dare push her away. She presses you into her. Over her shoulder, you see Chase’s lifeless body. His glassy eyes stare up at you.

“He’s dead.” You say. Tears leak like acid from your eyes. Tara holds you tighter.

“I know.” You feel her lips graze the side of your head. She presses a lingering kiss there. “I’m sorry you had to see, darling. I thought you were asleep.”

A whimper emerges from your lips. Tears fall hot and fast down your cheeks, your hands limp at your side as she holds you. Cradles you.

“Why?”

She pauses. You feel her tense.

“Because they wanted you. All of them. They wanted you, but I’d never let them have you. Because you’re mine.”

And it clicks. There had been four victims so far. The first was Dan and his brother Sam, both boys you’d known since elementary school. Both who’d had crushes on you.

Then there was Aaron, your first kiss. Then Sadie, your first girlfriend.

Your bottom lip trembles. They were all dead because of you.

Tears roll down your face. Your body starts to shake.

Tara shushes you, pulls back only slightly to wipe away your tears. She’s so tender, gentle, you almost forget the bloodied body you’d just watch her maim lying in the corner of the room.

“Don’t cry, sweet girl.” She presses her lips to your forehead. “Here. Look.”

She steps back momentarily. Shimmies out of her black robes. She’s wearing your old varsity soccer t-shirt underneath. Your sweatpants. The necklace you’d got her for your one year anniversary. She looks like herself again. Your Tara.

Your bottom lip trembles.

“See. It’s just me.”

It makes you cry even harder. How could this be real? You’d just watched as your sweet, gentle, loving girlfriend had driven a knife into someone.

Tara. How could it be Tara?

“I know, I know, baby. It’s okay.” Her arms are around you again. She holds you as you sob. Every instinct in you screams to run. To get away from this deranged psycho who just killed your best friend in front of you. But you can’t. She’s the only one you want to run to.

You press yourself into her, tears soaking through her shirt. She cradles you, you feel her lips ghost your forehead.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this.” She says, “I’m sorry, baby girl. I know it’s a shock.”

She holds you a while longer. Until your eyes are red and dry, nothing left to cry. Your heartbeat still hammering against your chest.

What do I do?, You think. Where do I go?

She was calm now, much calmer than you. But that could change in a heartbeat. If you ran, she’d chase you. Maybe even kill you too. That look in her eyes, black, terrifying. You hiccup against her.

What the fuck do I do?

She rubs your back. Draws away from you just enough to wipe the rest of your tears from your face. Lets her fingers linger on your cheeks.

“Come here.” She dips down before you can protest. Presses her lips to yours. You don’t resist. Electricity flows through your body. Your stomach flutters the way it always does when she kisses you. Your body wants her just as it always does. Guilt flushes through you. You draw back, hold her at arms length.

“I can’t.” You pull back, a fresh wave of tears rising. Your stomach turns. “I think I’m going to be sick”

Her hands grip your shoulders.

“It’s okay. It’s alright. Hey. Look at me.” She’s firm, suddenly. You look up at her through glistening eyes. She softens her voice again, brushes your hair out of your eyes.

“I’m going to clean this up.” Her head jerks to the body near the corner of the room. “Then I’m going to clean you up.” She strokes the side of your face. Scratches on your cheeks from the glass.

“And then I’m going to take you to bed and make love to you. Show you just how much I adore you. Alright? Will that make everything better, sweetheart?”

Revulsion rises in your stomach suddenly. Her hands on you feel heavy. Suffocating. Your cheeks flush hot with emotion.

“No. Don’t you dare touch me.” You say. You shake off her hands, take a step back.

The words startle you as much as they startle her. Hurt clouds her features for a moment. She tries to smooth it over, tilting her head.

“Baby. You don’t mean that.”

“Yes I do. I don’t want you near me. Not after what you’ve done.” You back up, pressing yourself against the wall. Part of you wants to make a grab for the dagger but she’s too close. Besides, what would you do with it anyway? You weren’t like her. You weren’t a killer.

Tara blinks. Her eyes fill with something you don’t recognize.

“You’re just confused.” Tara says, voice hollow. “I know it’s hard to get your head around-“

“Please. Go. Just go.”

You’re shaking. Tara stares. Her bottom lip twitches. You recognize what’s behind her eyes this time. Anger. Irritation.

“You want me to go? After all this. After everything I’ve done for you?” For the first time, her voice is trembling. She looks angry. Hurt. Confused.

“For me?” You ask. Your voice rises. “You killed my best friend for me?”

“For us.” She urges. “Don’t you see - there’s no distractions anymore. No one else. No one is going to take you from me.”

She’s moving closer again. You don’t want her near you. You eye the door, move before she can stop you.

“YN!”

You run. Blood rushing in your ears.

She calls your name again, but you don’t look back. The front door is locked, so you sprint for the back. You can’t think straight, can’t trust your own emotions. So you trust your instincts.

Run. Run. Run.

You reach the door, fumble with the handle. Your heart in your throat. You twist it madly, but it doesn’t budge.

“Come on!” You cry out. You twist again, but it’s too late.

You feel her hands on your waist as she grabs you.

You struggle against her, screaming. The sheer force knocks you both over. You scramble up, trying to stand but she’s too quick. Her hands wrap tight around your waist, pulling you back down to her. She grabs your wrists, holds them tight over your head as she climbs on top of you.

“Get off me!” You cry, but she doesn’t. Squeezes you down tighter.

Wild eyes stare down at you. Her eyes, usually the softest brown, are wide, saucer like. Her eyebrows knit together as she pleads.

“Please, baby, stop.” She begs. “It’s me. It’s just me.”

She’s smaller than you, but she’s so much stronger. She’s always been stronger than you. It used to be hot, the way she could hold you down with such little effort. Now, it terrifies you.

You try with all your might to push her off but she only grips tighter. A frustrated sob emerges from your lips. She presses you against the floor. You feel her lips on your forehead as she shushes you.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart.” She says, voice so tender you almost forget she has you trapped in a vice grip. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Then let me go.” You wail. Your body goes limp. There’s no point in struggling. She’s too strong. “Please, Tara, just let me go.”

“I can’t do that, baby.” She says. Her voice soft, almost apologetic, “I love you.”

You whimper, pathetically. Your mind whirls, going a mile a minute. There’s no way out, you realize. She’s stronger than you. She’s faster than you. And she’s hopelessly and desperately in love with you. She’ll never let you go.

Your breathing evens out.

“I love you.” She says again, voice barely above a whisper.

Her breath is hot, against your mouth. You shudder. She presses her lips to your cheek. Nuzzles her nose into your neck.

“I love you.”

Her lips press into your neck. A hot jolt of energy sparks between your legs. Even now, after everything she’s done you can’t help but want her. You start to cry again.

She tilts herself up. Looks at you, really looks at you.

Gone is the manic, crazy killer who just chased you down a hallway and stuck a knife in your best friend. Her eyes are wide, that soft, sweet brown they always are.

There she is. Your first love. Your high school sweetheart. The girl who had taken your virginity. Tara. Your sweet girlfriend, Tara.

“I love you.” She whispers, a final time. Your heartbeat slows, steady. Your eyes flicker down to her lips. She notices.

She lingers above you only a moment, before she leans down and captures your lips.

Heat flushes to your cheeks. Butterflies erupt in your chest.

Warm, warm, warm.

Is all you feel.

You groan into her mouth. Confusion flashes through you once again.

“Stop.” You murmur against her lips. Soft. Half-hearted, like you don’t mean it. She pulls back.

“Stop?” She asks. Voice low. Like she knows what you’re going to say.

Your breath hitches. Her hands loosen their grip on your wrists. Her weight on top of you suddenly feels erotic.

“Don’t stop.” You whisper, and she claims your lips once again.

Your kisses build, feverish. Desperate. A mesh of lips and teeth and tongue. You loop your hands through her hair, pull her tight against you.

Her hands loop under your shirt, tug at your jeans. You pull hers off first, wanting her hot and naked against you, groaning at the heat of her skin against your own.

All thoughts of Chase are gone as you slip your hands into her underwear. She’s wet already, gasps as you circle her clit. You press warm kisses to her jaw.

She presses you back onto the floor. Tugs your underwear down your legs. Her fingers dip down to your heat.

“Tara.” You gasp. She nuzzles herself into your neck. Presses, wet, sloppy kisses down your jawline. Her fingers brush your clit before she sinks her fingers inside you.

She groans. Kisses you deep.

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight. So wet.”

“Tara.” You gasp. Her fingers curl inside you, her thumb rubbing gently over your clit. She kisses you again. Works her fingers deeper into you.

“Does that feel good, baby?” She asks. Her voice is graveled, thick with want. You moan out as she hits just the right spot.

“You like that? You like my fingers inside you?”

You nod, madly, clawing at her back, trying to pull her closer.

“I like it too, baby. It’s my favorite thing in the world. I’d do anything to be inside you.”

Her eyes are black, hazy, lust filled. You kiss her deeply.

“I’d kill everybody in this town before they’d take you away from me.” She says, eyes wild. “I’d kill everybody in the world. You belong to me.”

You moan.

“Tell me.” She says, “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You, baby.” You gasp.

“That's right. All mine. Every inch of you.” She growls. Her hand movements are steady. Angry. Pounding into you. Your hips jerk with each thrust, your cheeks red.

“Nobody else is going to touch you. Not ever. I’m the only one who gets to do this.” She says. Her eyes are starting to blacken again, jealous at the thought of somebody else sinking inside you.

“No one else.” You pant. “I promise.”

She growls, takes a nipple in her mouth. Bites down hard. Her fingers drive into your pussy.

You moan her name. It relaxes her a little. She slows her pace, dipping down to kiss down your stomach. She nuzzles against your thigh, lovingly.

“Who can blame them?” She says. She reaches up to touch your face, presses a gentle kiss to your belly. Her fingers pump in and out at a steady pace. Her fingers coated in your wetness. “My perfect girl. Always so beautiful. Who wouldn’t want you? I want you all the time.”

She dips down, presses kisses to the tops of your thighs, rhythm steady as she fucks you. A low moan escapes from your mouth as she licks a long stripe down your center, stopping momentarily to wrap her lips around your clit.

Your thighs clench around her head but she keeps your legs pried open. She sucks you only a moment before she’s grinning up at you, debauched, slipping a third finger inside your dripping cunt.

“I wish I could spend every waking moment inside this gorgeous pussy. Always so pretty and tight and wet for me. Always throbbing around my fingers. Squeezing. Trying to keep me in you, isn’t that right?”

Her eyes gleam. Her pretty red lips sticky with your arousal.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you, baby? You’d like me to be in you all the time.”

“Yes.” You groan.

“Dirty girl.” She chides. Her head dips down again, and you throw your head back as she sucks on your clit, hard.

She releases you after a moment. Lips back on your thighs, fingers pummeling up into your g-spot.

Your stomach coils. She sucks on your thigh leisurely, her fingers slamming into you with no mercy.

“Mine.” She says. “Say it.”

“Yours. All yours.”

Her arms grip tight around your waist. She licks her way up your length, not stopping the force of her fingers.

You throb around her, so close. She presses kisses to your thighs as she works you to the edge.

“You going to come for me, baby?” She murmurs, lips on your clit, “Good girl. That’s it, sweetheart. Come in my mouth.”

She sucks your clit, hard, and you topple over the edge.

Your back arches. You let out a low groan as your orgasm washes over you. She works you though it, lovingly sucking, her fingers curled.

You slump back onto the floor as she presses kisses to your belly. She keeps her fingers in you as she leans up, kisses you so tenderly.

“Good girl.” She murmurs. You sigh into her mouth. You can taste yourself on her lips. It’s intoxicating. She presses a kiss to your neck.

Draws her fingers out of you. You whine. She smiles, sucks you off her fingertips.

“Don’t worry baby.” She murmurs. Brushes a lock of hair off your sweaty forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Your heart beat slows. She shuffles herself off you.

Wraps herself tight around your waist, drawing you into her.

Your eyes draw to the robes of the floor. The mask. The dagger. Chase is here somewhere, dead in another room. And you just fucked his killer.

Shame floods through you. Your body tenses. She can sense it. She turns you in her arms, pulls you into her bare chest.

“Shh. Don’t look, baby.” She coos. “I’ll clean it up.”

“He’s dead.” You say. More monotone than anything. In the last thirty minutes you’ve felt every possible emotion you could ever feel. You’ve cried every last tear. You’ve fought and struggled and lost against your own desires. You’re exhausted.

“It’s alright, babe.” She senses your resignation. Presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Now it’s just you and me. The way it should be.”

She tilts your face up to hers. You let her press a kiss to your lips. Close your eyes.

“I’m all yours, baby.” She says. “And you’re mine. Forever.”

You nod, slowly.

She is, there’s no point in denying it.

Next part

#scream #jenna ortega #fanfiction #mine #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #ghostface!tara #wednesday #wednesday x reader #ah

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scary-grace · 2 months ago

Text

Enough to Go By (Chapter 18) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19

Chapter 18

You store your backpack in the lockers provided for the purpose, then step into the line for the metal detector. You looked up what to expect when you visit somebody in jail, and so far everything checks out. It’s a long line. You wait your turn, step through the metal detector with no incident, and make your way up to the check-in desk. The officer behind it gives you a cursory glance. “Name?”

You give it, along with your birthdate, and she types it into her computer. A moment later her expression relaxes. She’s just seen that you’re quirkless, which means she can let you in without any special accommodations or extra guards. “Who are you here to see?”

“Aiba Manami,” you say. “My cousin.”

You haven’t been reading the news very much. You wouldn’t have known that Manami and the villain she works with had been arrested if Isuzu hadn’t texted you in all caps, asking if you’d seen the news and dropping the link when you said you hadn’t. And sure enough, there was Manami’s picture, right next to her villain crush’s at the top of the article – only they didn’t call her Aiba Manami. They called her La Brava, the name her villain gave her.

Isuzu was scandalized when you asked if anyone in the family had gone to visit her. You knew that meant no, so on your next three-day gap, you made plans to go see her. And here you are, hanging out in a visitation room, waiting for the guards to bring her in. You’re the only one in this particular room, and you know why. Manami’s quirk is useless without her villain nearby, and they’ve almost certainly separated them. And you don’t have a quirk, so you're useless overall. It’s safe. Enough.

When the guards bring Manami in, it’s clear that she’s been crying. A lot. Her eyes are red, and her permanent dark circles are augmented by bruises from rubbing them. She looks shocked to see you at first, but it’s not long before her eyes fill with tears again. “I didn’t think anyone would come. The family is so mad –”

“Fuck the family,” you say. Tomura and the others must be rubbing off on you. You never used to swear this much, as evidenced by the fact that Manami’s jaw drops and a startled, nervous laugh sneaks out. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I’ve been kind of keeping my head down.”

Manami’s gaze sharpens. “Why?”

“Um – no reason. Not really.” You need to be more careful. There’s nothing you’ve said so far that doesn’t sound suspicious. “Should we sit down?”

Manami sits down on the table, and you sit down in a chair. She’s so tiny that even the height boost from the table doesn’t put her at eye level with you. “How are you doing?” you ask, before she can ask you anything. “I don’t know all of what happened, obviously, but I – um –”

“Gentle fought Midoriya, and he lost.” Manami sniffles, while you try to conceal your shock. Midoriya Izuku really gets around. “My love wasn’t strong enough.”

“I bet that’s not it,” you say at once. “That kid’s just berserk. Nobody who runs into him gets away clean.”

Manami picks her head up out of her hands to give you a weird look. You look back, trying not to panic. Your brain-dead civilian act won’t work on Manami – she’s known you your whole life, and she knows the kind of tricks you play to fly under the radar. Then her gaze slides away from yours, and her eyes fill with tears again. “If I had just loved him more –”

“Did he say that? Your – uh, Gentle?” If he did, you and he are going to have words at some point. You might not be very intimidating, but your friends are terrifying, and you’ve picked up a few tricks from them.

“No.” Manami wipes her eyes again. “Of course not. Gentle loves me. He would never. Have you – have you seen him? I don’t even know where he’s being held.”

You shake your head. “I can find out if you want.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful! I haven’t seen him in so long!” Manami’s expression transforms. You really hope that’s not what you look like when you think about Tenko. “You should meet him. He’s the most handsome man in the world, and he’s so refined and elegant – and honorable – and tall! Tall boys always thought I was too short, but he can carry me around all day if he wants to.”

You absorb that image with some difficulty. “Nobody in here understands,” Manami continues. “They say I’m too nice to have ended up a villain, but they’re only saying that now that it’s too late. Everyone was cruel to me before. None of them cared. Except him.”

She looks back at you, her eyes bright. “Our charges aren’t that bad. They can’t keep us here forever. I know we’ll be together again once we’re out.”

You envy her confidence, and the fact that she’s right. If Tenko gets captured, he’s never getting out of prison. The only way you’ll be together is if he wins. “I’ll find out where Gentle is,” you promise, and Manami smiles. It shouldn’t be hard to do. Kazuo could probably find out without even touching his quirk. “I’d like to meet him sometime. I’m glad there’s somebody who makes you this happy.”

“Really?” Manami looks surprised. “My mom called me and yelled at me about him. And my dad. Everybody.”

“Fuck them,” you say patiently. The sooner Manami picks up that attitude about your whole stupid family, the better. “If he treats you well and makes you happy, that’s what I care about. Even if he likes tea a little too much.”

“Ugh, that’s how we got caught!” Manami flops backwards onto the table. “Midoriya Izuku ran into us and Gentle had to say something about him ruining the aftertaste of the special tea – and then Midoriya knew about the tea – so then Gentle had to talk to him about it –”

This sounds like a train wreck. “I didn’t know tea could do that.”

“Me. Either.” Manami sighs. “He was so excited that somebody else might like the weird stuff he likes. I can’t be mad at him for loving stuff. Even if he was dumb about it.”

She glances at you. “What would you do if your boyfriend was doing something dumb?”

“Drag him out of there.” That’s basically what you did that night in the convenience store, and you and Tenko weren’t even dating. “But I’m taller than you. It works a little better.”

“I knew it!” Manami crows, and you jump. “I knew you had a boyfriend! You didn’t even deny it.”

Manami’s sneaky. You forgot about that. “I was being hypothetical.”

“No you weren’t. You aren’t very good at makeup,” Manami says. You freeze. “Maybe you could fool a boy, but any girl could see that hickey from space.”

You clap your hand over the side of your neck, but it’s already way too late, and Manami laughs so hard she starts crying again. Maybe you’re bad at makeup, but you’re going to blame this one on Tenko – Tenko, who missed being crushed to death by inches seven times during the last fight cycle, and was so strung out on adrenaline that you could barely get him to focus long enough to try to fuck him to sleep. If he couldn’t focus on that, there was no way he could focus on not being loud, and he bit down hard on you to muffle himself so the others wouldn’t figure out what was going on.

There wasn’t time for you to grab a condom, so your first errand of the next fight cycle was the morning-after pill, followed by drugstore-brand makeup to cover up the bite mark. Apparently you did a bad job. A really bad job. “How do I fix it?”

“Tell me about the boy first.” Manami wipes her eyes. “Do you have a picture?”

You do. It’s old, and it’s in a locket around your neck, and your hand twitches upwards to it before you can stop yourself. Manami’s eyes track the motion. “Let me see.”

You hesitate. There’s a chance that Manami will be able to recognize Tenko – she went to your fifth and sixth birthday parties, and he was at both of them – but even if she recognizes him as a kid, she probably won’t be able to match his face to Tomura’s as an adult. You unclasp the locket and hand it over. “This is him as a kid. I don’t have a recent one.”

“Oh, he’s cute.” Manami tilts her head, studying the photo – and then her eyes widen. Her voice goes whisper-quiet, so much that you have to lean in to hear. “He’s alive?”

You nod. “He’s who I think he is,” Manami says, and you nod again. Of course she guessed. She’s a villain, and you know for a fact that villains keep track of each other’s press clippings. You should have thought of that, but you didn’t. Maybe you wanted her to know. “How?”

“They took him.” You’re not sure how else to phrase it subtly. Manami closes the locket and hands it back to you. Her hand is shaky. Yours is steady. “I’m lucky I found him again.”

“Lucky?” Manami shakes her head. “No.”

“What do you mean, no? Look at your boyfriend.”

“My boyfriend is a gentleman thief. He’s refined and elegant and he wants to write his name into history by making things better.” Manami’s proud of him, proud in a way you can’t be proud of Tenko, and your stomach twists with guilt. “Yours did – that.”

She’s pointing at the bite mark on your neck, the one she was teasing you over a few minutes ago. Now it’s something evil, just because of who left it there. “I could be into that,” you say, and she gives you a frustrated look. “It’s not any different than you.”

“It is. Look at me.” Manami gestures to herself, her eyes brightening with tears again. “Me and Gentle don’t hurt anyone. Gentle wants to help people and show them another way. What does your boyfriend want?”

To tear the world down, so something better can be built by people who know what needs to be fixed – but he has to tear it down first, and that will come with casualties. Lots of them. You’re slow to answer, trying to package it in a way that doesn’t sound insane and terrifying, and Manami takes your hesitation for what it is. “You don’t have to do this,” she says. “You’re not like I was. You have friends. You have a real job you like, and you’re normal. I mean, quirkless, but normal.”

Not quirkless, but that doesn’t matter. You stare her down, daring her to say what she actually means. To her credit, she does. “You don’t have a reason to do this,” Manami says, and she talks right over you when you protest that you do. “That means you have a choice. It doesn’t have to be him.

“I don’t have a choice,” you say. If she’d just let you talk, you could have explained, but you don’t need that many words to do it. “I –”

You’re trying to say you love him. If you can’t say you love him – to your cousin, who knows all about love that ruins you – who can you say it to? You try again. “I don’t have a choice. I – I lo – I do. I lo –”

Manami’s hand clamps down over your mouth. “Don’t,” she orders. “You have to save it.”

“What?” Your voice is muffled. “I can’t say it. I’m trying. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why can’t I say –”

“You can. You have to save it for when it counts.” The door to the visitation room opens, and over Manami’s shoulder, you see a guard step through. Two guards. No, three. “You’ll find Gentle, won’t you? You promised –”

“I’ll find him,” you say. You grasp Manami’s hand, hold it tight. “And I’ll be back to visit you. I promise.”

“Please think about what I said,” Manami says. She looks worried – worried, and sad, and even when the guards come to collect her, she hesitates long enough to try one more time. “It’s not too late. You don’t have to be like me.”

You thought you and Manami would be on the same page about things, since you’re both in love with villains, but apparently not. Apparently Manami sees the League as much worse than Gentle Criminal, just like the League sees Overhaul as worse than they are – and she’s worried about you. Yoshimi’s worried about you, according to Mitsuko and Ryuhei, but Manami’s worry worries you more. And then there was what she said while you were stuttering and panicking around the admission that you love someone you’ve loved in one way and another for almost your entire life. Save it for when it counts. What does that mean?

“Wait.” A guard stops you as you try to walk out through the metal detector and you nearly jump out of your skin. “Take that off.”

He’s pointing at your locket, and your hand flies up to cover it. “Yeah, that,” the guard says. “Take it off before you walk through.”

“It was fine before,” you say. Your nerves are jangling. “Why do I have to take it off now?”

“The prisoner touched it.”

“So you think her quirk works on a locket?” You can’t be combative right now. You can’t make waves – but you’re angry with yourself, angry with Manami, and you don’t want to hide it. “She touched my hand, too. Are you going to make me take that off?”

“Take it off or I’ll detain you,” the officer says. If you’re detained, they’ll search your backpack, and if it comes down to them looking at a baby photo of Tenko or checking out the gun in your backpack, you know which one you prefer. You take off the locket and drop it into the guard’s palm. “Thanks for your cooperation.”

You stand there, seething, as he pries open the locket and studies the photo inside. It occurs to you that the guards were watching you and Manami, that they saw her reaction when she opened it. Of course they’d want to take a look. But the guard never met Tenko, doesn’t know what to look for, and after a moment, he hands the locket back. “Was that so hard?”

“No,” you admit. You look down, bite your lip, the picture of quirkless contrition. “Sorry. It just means a lot to me.”

“Of course,” the guard says magnanimously. They’re all magnanimous once somebody gives in. “Go on.”

You walk through the metal detector again, retrieve your backpack and your phone, and step out of the jail. It’s a sunny day, but it’s cold, and you wish you’d brought a heavier coat. Or a scarf. It’s not hard to imagine that the bite mark is beaming like a searchlight from your neck, letting everybody know just how bad your boyfriend is at keeping quiet. You alter your priorities. You’ll get a scarf first. The firing range will still be there after you’ve covered up.

This far into the fight against Gigantomachia, and your errands during each fight cycle have taken on a new pattern. Food and sleep first – as guilty as you feel for eating hot food and sleeping in a bed when Tenko can’t, you’d feel guiltier if you made a mistake because you were too hungry and sleep-deprived to keep a clear head. Once you’ve gotten that out of the way, you do a few things to maintain the ruse that you’re on a leave of absence from work, then check up on the others.

Usually that means corralling Toga, or finding Compress before he can fence whatever he’s stolen. He’s recognizable enough that it’s safer for you to fence it yourself. You worry less about Spinner. Spinner tends to stick close. If he’s not shadowing Tomura or passed out and snoring, he’s usually following you. Once you’ve checked up on them, made sure they’re eating and sleeping in addition to whatever else, you run an errand of your own. You’ve got a gun now. You need to make sure you can use it.

You go to at least one firing range every fight cycle, sometimes more. You’ve learned how to tense yourself against the recoil from a shot, how to load and reload quickly, how to clean the gun, disassemble it, and fix any problems with it before they get work. The main thing, the most important thing, is shot selection and accuracy. Your accuracy is decent – not quite as decent as it is in Call of Duty, but above average. It got a lot better once you stopped trying to aim for the head.

You don’t need to aim for the head. You don’t want to kill somebody. What you need to do is slow them down long enough for you or your friends to get away, and that means hitting somewhere in the center mass. The fact that gunshots to the center mass can kill somebody just as easily as shots to the head is something you try not to think about. You’ve got a lot of practice not thinking about stuff by now. Enough that you can almost forget about the casualties that will result from tearing everything down, and forget basically everything Manami said except her stories about her villain boyfriend and your twin promises to visit her again and find out where he is.

You text Kazuo to ask if he knows where Gentle Criminal is being held, telling him specifically not to use his quirk to find out, and put your phone away. Then you step into your booth at the firing range.

You’re good enough at it now – barely – that you can practice firing one-handed, firing from positions other than square-on in front of your target. You’re also practicing using the gun for something other than shooting people. One of the guys at the firing range in Nagoya, an ex-cop who took a shine to you in a way that made you deeply uncomfortable, told you that a gun’s not helpful at a distance of less than twenty feet. Somebody with a knife can close that distance faster than you can fire. Dodging a knife strike and clocking somebody in the side of the head is a better bet, so today you’re practicing that, too. You’re as useless with a latent quirk as you were without one, so finding another way to be useful in a fight is your top priority. A stupid latent quirk is the same thing as no quirk at all.

But even as you practice firing one-handed, firing from a crouched position, firing from the floor, you can’t shake off what Manami said. Her hand covering your mouth, her order to save it for when it counts. Save what? The I love you? Sure – you should probably tell Tenko before you tell anybody else, as soon as you figure out how to get the words out of your mouth. What was weird was how intense Manami was about it, but Manami’s always been intense about love. Intense enough to cover your mouth about it? Maybe. Maybe she just wanted you to shut up about how much you love Shigaraki Tomura, aspiring of the supervillains, while you’re in the visiting room at a jail. She’s been at this longer than you have. She’s better at it.

She’s the second person to point out that Tenko’s hurt you, and she and Mitsuko had the same reaction. You’d be worried about it if you didn’t know the whole story, but you can’t explain that your boyfriend bit you because he’s loud in bed or that he hates letting even you see him cry. You also can’t explain that you don’t hate the bitemark, that you don’t want people to see it but aren’t mad that it’s there. You definitely can’t explain that you’re trying to build a new world, and you’re terrified of the thought that he won’t be in it with you.

And there’s no possible way to explain that you’ve weighed the world against the idea of losing Tenko again and decided that keeping him was more important. Not without sounding insane and selfish and awful. Not without sounding like a villain.

You stay at the firing range, drilling over and over again until the time you’ve paid for runs out, and then you check your timer. Four hours before the end of the next fight cycle, and the new base camp is two and a half hours away. That’s plenty of time for you to get there before Tenko does.

Or at least that’s what you think. There’s a disruption in the train service, courtesy of some villain, somewhere, and you wait as ten minutes, forty-five minutes, an hour and a half tick by. There’s no way you’re going to make it there by the end of the fight cycle, and you might miss the break entirely. You have to be there. You need to see Tenko and make sure he eats and sleeps, so that the next fight cycle doesn’t end with him being killed. This far in, he’s barely alive. You don’t know how he’s keeping it together. You don’t know how anyone is.

Another twenty minutes slip past with agonizing slowness. You’re getting desperate. If Kurogiri was here, you’d have options, but he was captured months ago, and you don’t know anyone else who has a –

Yes, you do. You dig the earpiece the doctor gave you out of your backpack and activate it, jamming it into your ear. The doctor’s already on the other end of the line, and that strikes you as weird, but you don’t have a chance to think about it any more before he speaks. “I was just about to reach out to you, Saintess. There’s been a development.”

Your blood turns to ice. Tenko can’t be dead. He’d have told you first if Tenko was dead. If Tenko was dead, you’d know. “What is it?”

“Shigaraki Tomura has devised a plan to destroy both of his enemies at once – the Metal Liberation Army, which has challenged him to a battle, and Gigantomachia, whom he has yet to defeat.” The doctor doesn’t explain who the MLA is, but he doesn’t need to. You’re quirkless. You know all about the people who want to make society’s might-makes-right thing explicit instead of poorly concealed. “I’ve just transported he and the others to the outskirts of the battlefield. He gave me explicit instructions to keep you away from the fight.”

“No,” you say at once. “I’m the medic. They need me. I have to be there.”

“My thoughts exactly,” the doctor says. Oh. “I believe you could be very useful indeed. Stand by for transport.”

You hold still. The doctor heaves a dramatic sigh. “That means get out of sight, dear.”

You’re an idiot. You duck into the bathroom at the train station and lean back against the door, blocking anyone from coming in. “I’m out of sight.”

“Excellent,” the doctor says. A moment later, your mouth fills with black sludge.

When you get to the edge of the city that must be the battleground, the fight’s already in full swing. You can tell by the clouds of dust that are rising, the flashes of blue flame appearing and vanishing just as quickly. Tomura must have called for Dabi. Dabi, but not you. Dabi can fight.

“Allow me to provide the lay of the land,” the doctor says. “The Meta Liberation Army has a hundred thousand members in this city alone. Shigaraki’s objective is to hold them off, without drastically reducing their numbers, long enough for Gigantomachia to awaken and pursue him here – where he will theoretically clash with the MLA and incur enough damage to allow Shigaraki to defeat him.”

It’s brilliant. Tomura’s plans these days usually are. But when you check your phone for the time, your heart sinks. “They’ve still got an hour left. That’s too long.”

“That’s where you come in, my dear. The MLA left you out of their calculations entirely due to your perceived quirklessness.” The doctor sounds smug as all hell. “I’ll direct you where you’re needed. With that gun of yours, the amount of ammunition you’re carrying, and the practice you’ve been putting in, you should be quite effective in thinning the MLA’s ranks – assuming, of course, that you’re willing to get your hands dirty.”

You made that decision a while ago. You put on your veil and crown. It’ll complicate your vision, but you couldn’t practice with it on. “I’ll do what needs to be done to keep Tomura safe.”

“Let’s hope he proves worthy of your devotion. Descend into the city. Avoid the main avenues and work your way towards the tower in the center.

It’s a distance down to the city, and the doctor put you on a rocky slope. There’s probably a defined path down, but you don’t want to waste time looking for it, and you roll and slide and tumble your way down to level ground, the doctor tsking in your ear the entire time. You ignore him and choose a deserted side street, working your way towards the chaos in the center of the city. The doctor gives you periodic updates. “Toga has neutralized her opponents, but she was injured – no, no, my dear, your objective is Shigaraki.”

“I’m the medic. If Toga is hurt –”

“Twice is on his way to assist her, and her injuries aren’t immediately life-threatening.” The doctor’s voice takes on a bite of impatience. “You’ll be able to aid her later, assuming Shigaraki’s plan succeeds – which it may not do if you waste time here.”

Helping Toga isn’t wasting time. But there’s a bigger picture here, and you know it. You pick up the pace again, jogging through the streets, until the doctor tells you to stop. “Dabi and Compress are near. Dabi’s opponent could stand to be distracted. Avoid being seen.”

So you can’t help Toga, but you can help Dabi? The doctor’s priorities are pissing you off. You creep closer, pivoting down a small alley and climbing into a building, peering out a broken window for a better view. There’s Dabi, and Compress. And there’s his opponent, some guy with white hair in a blue coat, who’s doing his best to crush Dabi and Compress under a hail of ice.

Strategy isn’t your strongest suit, but this one is easy. Dabi is the League’s only ranged combatant – other than you, and you barely count. If Dabi loses this fight and switches to chasing Tomura, it’s over. Ice Guy is moving around a lot. You take out your gun, make sure it’s loaded, make sure there’s a round in the chamber. You can’t stay here long. You have to get out fast, so you give yourself three shots to get the job done. You peer up over the window frame, steady yourself, flip off the safety, and hook your finger around the trigger. Ice Guy is holding still for once, bantering about something with Dabi. Perfect.

You fire all three shots in a tight burst, but you aren’t solid at this distance, or this angle. You miss with all three, and you cringe in embarrassment. Ice Guy falters for a second, looking around wildly for the source of the gunfire. You drop to the floor and belly-crawl out of sight, gritting your teeth at the amused note in the doctor’s voice. “Obviously it would have been better if you’d hit him, but he’s unsettled enough to hand Dabi a momentary advantage. All Dabi must do is make use of it.”

You make your way into the building’s back lot, then through a gate onto a quieter street. This one is lined with piles of dust. Big piles of dust, and two sets of footprints through them. “Tomura was here. And Spinner?”

“Yes, although Spinner’s unable to compensate for Shigaraki’s near-incapacitation.” The doctor gives you a new direction to run in and keeps talking. “I admire your efforts to keep him healthy, but they’re ultimately futile. The exhaustion will kill him sooner rather than later.”

“Later,” you correct. He can die of exhaustion when you’re both ninety. “Where are they?”

“Continue straight, then turn left at the next major intersection.” There’s an edge in the doctor’s voice now. “If I were you, I’d hurry.”

You pick up the pace, furious with yourself for not being able to move faster. Training with a weapon clearly wasn’t enough – on your days off, you should have been improving your physical fitness, enough that scrambling from house to house as cover on a street parallel to the one Tomura and Spinner are traveling on would be nothing to you. You turn left at the next intersection and you’re bolting down the street when the doctor orders you to hide, his voice loud and sharp. You dive into the shelter of the nearest fenced yard just in time to see a horde of figures dressed in black and white stampede down the street Tomura and Spinner are apparently on. It looks like Twice. Twice, but hundreds of him.

You thought his quirk would only let him make two copies, and he never copies himself. What happened? “It appears his quirk has awakened,” the doctor says, and you realize you’ve spoken aloud. “If only the same thing would happen to you.”

“If I could do that, I’d know.” You poke your head up over the fence to see if it’s clear, and one of the Twice clones spots you. Shit. You duck down out of sight, but you know he’s coming. “What should I do?”

You hate yourself for asking, and the doctor doesn’t answer. At least not in a way that’s helpful. “Your objective is to aid Shigaraki. Proceed with that in mind.”

Before you can even begin to parse that, the Twice clone reaches over the fence and grabs your arm, pulling you upright. “Hey, you’re not supposed to be here! Shigaraki said to keep you away!”

“I’m supposed to be here. I’m the medic.” You struggle to pull your arm free, but he’s stronger than you. “Let go. I have to help him –”

“We’re helping him.” The clone’s chest puffs with pride. “Don’t worry, sister. Your boyfriend’s in good hands!”

You need to get away from Twice. You need to get away from him right now. What’s the chance that this is the real Twice? Next to none – you can’t imagine the real Twice leaving Toga’s side if she’s hurt. With that in mind, what you’re about to do should have no consequences whatsoever. “I’m sorry,” you say to the clone, and you strike him so hard in the side of the head with the barrel of your gun that he collapses instantly into sludge.

“Wonderful. It seems you weren’t lying – your devotion to Shigaraki does extend to getting your hands dirty.” The doctor sounds pleased. You don’t feel like anything at all. “Continue your pursuit course. Shigaraki has pulled ahead of Spinner, but you shouldn’t have trouble catching him.”

You decide against using the main streets, opting instead to hop fences and cut through backyards and alleyways. You don’t want to have to kill any more Twice clones. You don’t have the greatest view, but you’re sure the doctor will tell you if you need to speed up. Tomura might be in the midst of a battle, high on adrenaline, but you’ve eaten and slept in the last three days, so you must have the advantage in speed. You’ll catch him soon. You have to.

You hear the screech of tires, followed by the sound of hundreds of feet on the road – and then a voice, booming out through a megaphone. The voice that responds is quiet and thin in comparison, but you recognize it. It’s Spinner’s voice. Is Tomura with him? No, the doctor would have told you to change course, and he’s said nothing of the kind. Out of everyone in the League, Spinner’s the most loyal to Tomura, second only to you. He wouldn’t leave Tomura for anything. You break the back window of one of the houses, climb in, and pick your way through until you’re peering through the front window. There are too many people in the way. You head for the stairs.

Once you’ve got the elevation, it’s obvious – Spinner’s trapped in the middle of an angry mob. There’s a news van blocking his way, and a guy standing on top of it. He’s calling Spinner by what must be Spinner’s real name and saying the kind of things that make you see red. Spinner shouts back, owning it – owning weakness, owning a lack of vision, owning unimportance except as a follower to better people. That’s not all he is. You don’t let anybody talk to your friends like that, your friends included.

You need to do something. “No,” the doctor hisses in your ear. “Pursue Shigaraki. Leave him.”

“No,” you say. The doctor makes a scathing, offended sound into the phone. “That’s not who I am.”

You don’t have enough bullets in your gun or your backpack to take out the entire crowd, but you can handle the guy in charge, and the resulting chaos might be enough of a distraction that you can yank Spinner out unnoticed. Forget this only-three-shots nonsense – you extract another clip from your backpack and set it down beside you, at the ready once you empty this one. You break the window you’ve been peering through, trusting that the mob’s own noise will cover the sound, and screw the silencer onto the end of your gun. You haven’t practiced with it much, or at all, so you don’t know how it’ll disrupt your shot, but between the gun and the clip you have nine shots to get the job done. At least one of them will have to hit.

The man on top of the van has just donned a mask. Probably a support item rather than a shield, but you were never aiming for his head. Your first shot strikes him in the shoulder. He staggers, turning halfway just in time for you to empty the clip, sending two bullets tearing laterally through his torso. You eject the empty clip and load the next, and in the time that takes, your target collapses. His blood is pooling on top of the van, running down the sides. He’s not moving. Unless somebody in the crowd has a serious healing quirk, he’s dead.

You turn away from the window and race back down the stairs, keeping the gun hidden at your side. Most of the mob’s forgotten Spinner in their efforts to help the leader, and Spinner’s crawled through them, heading towards you. He must have guessed who was shooting. He’s the only one in the League who knows about the gun.

You race out of the house to help him up, drag him out of sight. One person notices the two of you, and you shoot them without thinking twice. Not fatally. It won’t be fatal if they get some help soon.

Spinner needs help right now. He’s bleeding, and while you can see the puncture wounds in his shirt, you can’t tell how deep they are. “You’re wasting time,” the doctor hisses in your ear.

You ignore him, but Spinner unknowingly echoes him a moment later. “Don’t worry about me,” he says, grimacing in pain. “Get to Shigaraki. He needs you.”

“I’ll patch you up and we can both go.”

“No, you need to –”

There’s a colossal explosion from somewhere in the distance. At least, you think it’s an explosion. You don’t know what else to call it, except that it’s the loudest sound you’ve ever heard, and it makes the ground rattle beneath your feet. You and Spinner both freeze. “What was that?”

“Change of plans, my dear. Get as far from here as possible.” The doctor’s voice is in your ear again – and in Spinner’s, based on the way Spinner startled. “Shigaraki has engaged the leader of the Liberation Army, and his chances won’t be improved if he’s distracted by your presence.”

“What if I just shoot him?” you ask. Spinner stares at you. “The leader of the Liberation Army. Could I get a clear shot?”

“He’s the size of a house,” the doctor says, and your stomach clenches tight with fear. “You could hit him from the moon if your weapon had the range. But you don’t, and he’ll see you coming, so –”

“He wouldn’t care about me. You said it yourself. I’m quirkless, so I don’t factor in.” You help Spinner straighten up. “I’m Tomura’s sidekick. I can’t let him fight alone.”

“You can if doing it will get you flattened.” Spinner stumbles as the ground shakes again. “Give me the gun. I can do it.”

“You won’t be able to get clear in time.” Get clear in time for what? At the kind of range you’ll need to be effective with a gun this small, you won’t be able to get clear, either. The ground rattles again. “I have to do this.”

“Yes, I believe you must.” The doctor’s voice is crisp and abrupt, almost as abrupt as his change of tune. “I’m quite impressed with Shigaraki’s fortitude. I’ll be sending another gift to assist him in this fight, in addition to you. Spinner, make for the outskirts. I’ll direct you to Toga and Twice. Saintess, head for the center. Stay out of sight as long as you can.”

There’s no time for you to patch Spinner up. The two of you trade a glance and a nod, and then you split up. Spinner books it in the opposite direction of the disaster that’s unfolding at the center of the city, and you run towards it.

What you see there in the midst of the destruction horrifies you. You’ve only caught glimpses of Tomura’s battles with Gigantomachia, but you’ve heard stories from the others, and in spite of the fact that the giant he’s fighting this time is smaller, you can tell from a single glance that his odds are worse. He was tired going into this fight, and he’s already injured beyond what you or anyone else could fix. And unlike Gigantomachia, this giant can talk.

He wants to know what Tomura’s going to do with the world, if he survives. “Is the pursuit of destruction your only worth as a human? The world you wish to create will be as empty as you are.”

“It’s not my world.” Tomura’s face is smeared with blood. One of his legs is twisted at a terrible angle, broken so badly you can’t believe it’s bearing his weight. His left hand is mangled, missing two fingers at least. He can’t fight like this. How could he? “It’s for them. They can choose what’s in it.”

It’s for him, too. If he gives you the chance to build a new world, you’re going to make it worth living in. “They can choose?” The giant scoffs. “Your pack of outcasts and delinquents don’t have that kind of vision. None of you can see beyond your own petty desires and think of the greater good!”

“I don’t need to see it.” Tomura stumbles sideways to avoid a strike, then loses his footing and falls. “She can.”

He’s talking about you. You get set, raise the gun, and fire.

The giant is too bulky for your bullets to make much of an impact. You’d have to hit him in the eyes or the mouth, and you’d have to get closer for that. He reacts to the shot like you’d react to a mosquito bite, mere annoyance and temporary distraction, and Tomura struggles back to his feet long enough to exploit the opening. For a split second you’re drawn back to the games the two of you played as children – facing some terrible villain, distracting them so Tenko could land a decisive blow. The same game as always. Now it’s real.

Even with the giant distracted, Tomura’s injuries are slowing him down. It’s not just that he’s limping. You come closer, unable to stop yourself, and you see how badly he’s favoring his other side. He’s only got one hand, his quirk at half the strength it used to be, and even as your empty the remainder of your clip into the giant’s torso, load another, and fire again, you know you can’t do enough to make this fight one Tomura can win. If you’ve really got a quirk, if there’s something you can do, now’s the time.

But there’s nothing. Why would there be anything? If you had anything more you could do, you’d do it. if running into the middle of things and getting killed to save him would mean he’d win, you’d do it in a heartbeat.

You wouldn’t hesitate, but you won’t get the chance to choose. The giant’s spotted you. He swats Tomura aside with one hand and turns his attention to you. “So you came to join us after all,” he says. You hold your ground. If he comes close enough, you’ll have a clear shot at his eyes. “It’s a shame to say so, Saintess, but there’s no place for your kind in our future. I’ll put you out of your misery.”

You shoot him. It glances off his cheek, and his footsteps rattle the ground, jarring your next shot into thin air. “You’re only resisting the inevitable,” he continues. “Is this truly a world you want to live in? A world where meta abilities are used freely, where your kind are left to occupy the lowest rung of society while the rest of us wait for evolution to wipe you out?”

You’ve heard people with quirks say some truly out-of-touch things, but that might be the worst. You open your mouth for a retort, but instead of a snappy comeback or heartfelt appeal to humanity, laughter pours out. You can’t make it stop, and the giant stares at you, puzzled. Behind him, you see Tomura rising from the dirt, all his weight on his knees and his mangled hand. It only takes a split second’s thought to understand why he’s putting pressure on his injured hand instead of the good one, but it’ll all be for nothing if you can’t give him time. You need the giant to keep looking at you.

He hasn’t looked away. Your semi-hysterical cackling is keeping all his attention. “Is something funny?”

“This world you want,” you start. You have to pause to suck down air, aware that he’s coming closer to you, aware that you can’t let him look back at Tomura. “It’s the same world we have right now. I’ve lived in your perfect world my whole life.”

Tomura steadies himself. You see him steady his right arm with what remains of his left hand before the giant’s bulk fills your vision. You look up at him, holding his gaze even as he raises his hand to crush you to a bloody paste on the ground, and you smile, even though your veil hides your face. “It’s our world now.”

The giant’s fist comes down towards you. You hear a distant scream. A split second later, the ground falls out from beneath you.

You can’t decide if you’re dead or not. You’re falling through a haze of dust and ash, listening to screams that fall abruptly silent, flinching as buildings crack and crumble around you. Above it all there’s a sound you’ve never heard before – half howl of rage, half insane laughter, all rough and painful, as though it’s tearing apart the throat it’s issuing from. Tenko’s still alive. You can’t die yet. You have to get to him.

Maybe your quirk is some kind of willpower, because even though the impact with the ground is agonizing, you’re on your feet within seconds of the hit. You find yourself standing on the edge of a massive crater, one that’s swallowed half the city. You’re not the only one at its edge. You see Spinner, Dabi, Compress, Twice – about a billion clones of Twice, holding as many clones of Toga, and Giran off to one side with a clumsy bandage wrapped around his hand. The League of Villains made it through.

A few members of the Meta Liberation Army made it through, too. They’re staring down into the crater, sheer horror on their faces, as they look at what’s left of their leader.

He amputated his legs to avoid getting caught in the wave of Decay Tomura unleashed, and the part of you that’s a nurse and not a murderer notes that those wounds will need to be cauterized soon if he wants to avoid bleeding out. But the leader of the Meta Liberation army is a footnote, an afterthought. Tomura’s down there, too. Tomura’s on his feet. His hair’s gone pure white, and his right arm’s been torn to shreds.

He and the Liberation Army’s leader are talking. You can’t hear what they’re saying, at least not at first. Not until the leader announces his unconditional surrender and orders his soldiers to lay down their arms – or rather, to turn them over to Shigaraki Tomura, the new leader of the Meta Liberation Army. Tomura’s won, and it’s not just the MLA who’s submitted to him. When you glance at the far side of the crater, you see Gigantomachia crouched there, calm and awaiting orders. It’s a mark of just how focused you are on Tomura that you didn’t even notice.

The enemy leader’s still talking, but Tomura’s not paying attention. He’s looking up, around the edges of the crater, his eyes lingering on each member of the League. Twice and Giran to Twice and Toga, Dabi to Compress to Spinner, and finally to you. You hold his gaze, unsure of whether to take down your veil and smile, not certain if he needs reassurance that you’re okay or if he’s just making sure you’re alive. Then his face goes pale beneath the mask of blood. You see his eyes roll up in his head, and before you can make a move to help him, he pitches sideways, unconscious.

The enemy leader is the one who catches him, and something snaps in your head. You hop the edge of the crater and skid down the slope, racing towards them. You’re not the only one on the move – Spinner and about fifty Twice clones are doing the same thing, and the enemy leader is shouting for help. Somebody with a healing quirk, maybe. Or transport to a hospital. You can’t think. All you can think about is getting Tomura away from the person who was trying to kill him five minutes ago. A person whose soldiers will kill you all without him to lead them.

You pry Tomura out of his grip, slide your backpack off your shoulders, and start giving orders. “Twice, take the sterile pads and start packing them onto his legs.”

“Whose?”

You gesture one-handed at the giant, who’s not so giant anymore. “Re-Destro,” he introduces himself.

“Yeah, him.” Once the Twice clones are in motion, you unwrap the scarf you bought earlier today and shove it into Spinner’s hands. “Use that as a tourniquet for one of his legs. Find something else for the other one.”

Spinner doesn’t question it. You wonder if he’s made the same calculation as you have, figured out that your survival is tied to Re-Destro’s for right now, but now that you’ve got people helping him, you can focus on Tomura. And Tomura is – is –

The rise and fall of his ribcage is lopsided. He’s got a punctured lung. His shirt’s been torn away, and most of his torso is turning a strange mottled color, one you remember all too well from the victims at Kamino. Internal bleeding. His left hand’s down to three fingers. His right arm’s all but flayed. His leg’s broken so badly that you can see pieces of his femur protruding through his skin. The only thing that’s still working properly seems to be his heart. He still has a pulse, but he needs more help than you can give him. You can’t tourniquet internal bleeding. You can’t stitch wounds inside his body. As much as you want to save him, this is out of your skill set by a hundred kilometers.

You hear a helicopter approaching, and when you look up, you see a cross painted on its side. Medevac, but they’re here for Re-Destro, not for Tomura. When he sees the medics approaching, Re-Destro shakes his head. “Take him. I can wait.”

You’re terrified that they won’t listen, but Re-Destro’s minions are loyal. They come to Tomura’s side instead, load him onto a stretcher, and rush him to the helicopter with you chasing after them. One medic turns to tell you to back off and you shout in her face. “I’m a nurse! I can help!”

You’re not sure if she believes you, or if she just believes that you’ll throw yourself in anyway and spend the entire flight clinging to the landing gear if she says no. Whatever her reasons are, she steps aside, and you scramble onto the helicopter alongside Tomura’s stretcher.

You’ve never been inside any helicopter before, and you have a feeling that most of them aren’t this nice. They have actual gear, actual scanners, and while you get pressed into service trying to secure Tomura’s broken leg, then promptly kicked out to deal with his right arm, the medic who let you in runs a scanner over his torso. The image pops up on a screen attached to the cockpit divider, and when you glance up at it, your heart plummets a thousand meters, all the way back to earth.

Internal bleeding, just like you thought. Massive internal injuries, the kind a person can’t come back from, and the medic who ran the scan shakes her head. “Even if we had the blood to transfuse him, we can’t waste resources. This is ATC, and with those injuries – he’s not going to make it to the hospital.”

“No.” Your voice comes out watery and weak. “There’s something you can do. There has to be. I know –”

“You’re a nurse. You should know.” The medic gives you a look. “He’s got minutes. Say your goodbyes.”

It feels unreal. It can’t be real. This can’t be happening. Not like this, not after everything the two of you have been through, not after he’s won. How could you have let this happen to him? You look back up at the scan, hoping desperately that something’s changed and finding nothing. The medic is right. You’re a nurse, and you should know – a patient with injuries this severe isn’t someone who can be saved. No matter how many surgeons could work on them, no matter how many units of blood they might be transfused, there’s no way to hammer life back into a body this damaged. It’s cruel to try.

You lift his right hand, careful to avoid making contact with all his fingers at once. You can’t kiss it, but you bow your head over it all the same, fighting back tears. You can’t face the thought of never hearing his voice again, never linking little fingers with him again, never kissing him or making him laugh or playing another game. You swore you’d follow him through the end of the old world and into the new one. You can’t lose him again. If you could take his place, you would.

“Tenko,” you whisper, even though he can’t hear you, even though everything that matters is already beyond your reach. Maybe that’s why it’s easy to say, why the words are lighter than air on your tongue. “Tenko, I love you.”

You curl over his hand, eyes shut, head bowed. You can’t watch the light leave his face. Feeling his hand go limp and cold will be horrible enough. You stay still and wait as seconds tick past. Seconds, then minutes. The medic said he had minutes. How many minutes did she mean? A spark of hope catches in your chest and you smother it without mercy. He’s gone. You can’t have him back this time. He’s gone.

You hear the medic’s voice, but nothing she says makes sense. “Scan him again.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

You stay where you are until someone nudges you aside, but you don’t open your eyes, and you don’t let go of Tenko’s hand. The scanner hums as it runs over his limp, nearly lifeless body, then emits an excruciatingly loud beep. Even with your eyes shut, you see the flash of the screen coming to life. The medic’s voice is hesitant, stunned. “Holy hell.”

“That’s not possible,” the other medic says. “It isn’t! Not without –”

Both of them stop talking. If they’re not going to explain, you should look up and see for yourself. You open your eyes, and sit up, and that’s when you see the second scan, side-by-side with the first. And they’re – different. The first scan is apocalyptic, unsurvivable. Even someone with no medical training could tell. The second scan is bad, too, but it’s better. Better enough to change his status from black-tagged to red-tagged in the medics’ opinion, because they get back to work, working around you rather than telling you to move.

It’s weird, because you’re definitely in the way. You’d ask you to move, if you were them. Do they need you to help? You ask, and the other medic lets out a cracked, uncomfortable laugh. “You’re more useful where you are.”

“What?” you say blankly. “I don’t understand.”

“I do,” the doctor says in your ear. You’d forgotten he was there. “Tell me what you see.”

You describe the first scan, then the second. “Hm. It sounds to me as if Shigaraki’s body is repairing itself,” the doctor says. “Small repairs, obviously – he still requires major surgery and quite a bit of luck – but even such repairs take hours, days, or even weeks to occur naturally. And here they’ve occurred within the space of a few minutes. My dear Saintess – it seems you have a quirk after all.”

The doctor keeps talking, about how he and All For One are never wrong, how you were so silly to doubt him, how he knew your quirk would awaken if the right circumstances were met, and you ignore him. It’s easy to do, just like it’s easy to ignore the medics as they pivot around you, easy to ignore the pilots’ discussion of which MLA-controlled hospital to make for, easy to ignore the fresh scan that pops up on the screen, revealing even more improvement – impossibly slight, but enough. You focus on holding Tenko’s hand, keeping it safe between yours for the landing on the hospital’s roof, the race down to the operating theater, the hours and hours of surgery that leave you dead-on-your-feet tired, interrupted only by orders to move this way or that.

You’re still holding his hand as they wheel him out of surgery, into the recovery unit off the ICU. Still not thinking. Still ignoring everything but his hand, warm and wrapped in bandages, a pulse still beating in his wrist. He stirs slightly in his sleep, eyelids fluttering half-open with no awareness behind them, and you wonder if he’s in pain, if you can call someone to medicate him so he’ll get a good night’s sleep for the first time in months. Your hands are stiff and frozen around his, locked into position for hours on end, and you force yourself to let go. You might need your hands to help him. You’re still a medic, still a nurse. He might need more from you than this.

You leave your little finger linked with his, though. It’s tradition by now, and tradition, too, to tighten your grip just a little bit, letting him know you’re here. “I love you,” you say, in case he’s listening. It still feels easy to say.

Tenko doesn’t stir, doesn’t open his eyes. But his breathing is even, his heartbeat steady, and his finger hooks a little tighter around yours. He’s all the way under. It’s just a reflex, but you’ll take it as proof: In spite of everything, he’s here, too.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x you #shimura tenko x reader #shimura tenko x you #tenko shimura x reader #tenko shimura x you #x reader #reader insert #please hold #man door hand hook car door

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st0rygirl3 · 6 months ago

Text

Hottest Killer part 2 - Matt Sturniolo ༊*·˚

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══ ═ ═ ═ ══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

*HEAVILY BASED ON GHOST FACE AND THE CRAZY STALKER VIBE*

Part 1

What are you supposed to do when there’s been reports of crazy killer running around your neighborhood and once he finally gets to you, decides murder isn’t the right plan?

⚠️Warnings⚠️:

🔞MDNI 🔞 but I’m not ur mother

fem!reader x ROUGH!dom!Matt Sturniolo Suggestive content, smut content, stalker content, stalkerish, talks of being crazy, talk about murderers, kinda r8pe but overall consensual. Full filth, choking, spanking, and hair pulling kinks, P in V, unprotected sex (please be safe) {kinda cheesy cutesy fluff} aftercare!

A/N: o.m.g. I didn’t not expect part one to get 33 notes!!! That is so completely insane to me, thank you so much for liking my story and interacting! So ofc I had to make a part 2, and maybe a part 3 depending on where this one goes and what yall want! Thank you so much again and enjoy! My writing is still improving but I hope you enjoy!

It had been a few weeks since your interaction with Matt, and god you could not get him off your mind. Staying up till 12, waiting for his return, holding the note in your hand, but he never showed. It was Friday, 8pm and you’re sitting on your bed laid back with your laptop resting on your lap.

Your phone began to buzz, and your head snapped over to look at it. Confused, you grabbed the phone and looked where the name or phone number of the person should be, but all it read was ‘Unknown’. Immediately part of you hoped it was Matt, but the other half prayed it was anyone but. Yes, he said he’d be back, but back for what? To kill you for real this time?

You took in a deep breath and clicked the answer button, to which a darker voice than you remembered from that night came through. “Comfy gorgeous?” The dark voice said, laced with an uncomfortable feeling. Your stomach sank at the voice, it sounded somewhat familiar, but not familiar enough to be Matt. “I’m sorry who’s this?” You responded nervously. The caller was like a dog, able to sense your nervousness and fear, answering with a dark chuckle. “You know who it is, sweetheart.” The voice lightened up more, still holding an uncomfortable dark tone, but the voice almost warped, into Matt’s voice, like a voice filter had been turned off. “The one you’ve been touching yourself to. Can’t get me outta your head after that night can ya princess?” The voice said cockily. You were speechless, unsure of what to say. How did he know that? You looked up and saw your large bedroom window, with curtains dripping down the sides, not fully closed. The sky was pitch black. “Matt?” You asked shakily. “Yes princess?” The voice answered. You got up and walked to your window looking outside, where you saw Matt standing in your backyard, looking up at you with piercing blue eyes, just as you remembered. He had his hat on and mask covering the bottom half of his face. He had his phone up to his ear, and a brown bag in the other hand. “Brought food for you. Care to come open the door?” The voice said as you stumbled back in surprise. You somehow dropped your phone on the floor but didn’t mind it. You grabbed the knife under your pillow just incase.

Creeping down the steps you turned left, walking to where your back door is. You walked to the back door carefully, placing your hand on the handle as you saw Matt began to calmly approach the door from the outside. You began pulling the door, shaking but a weird excitement seemed to counteract that. As you fully slid the door open you backed up, and Matt walked forward, until your back was pressed against the counter, and he was centimeters away from you. He placed the brown food bag around you on the counter. His gaze directed to the knife in your hand, making you nervous. “Gonna try and kill me?” Matt said with a raised eyebrow, sounding almost amused. “I-it was just for self defense.” You said defensively. “I already told you, you are way too pretty to murder.” Matt said placing his thumb on your chin, and curled his pointer finger and placing it under your chin, tilting you to look up at him. You guys stayed there, making intense eye contact for a solid minute, questioning eachother through gazes. Having a conversation with our talking, but Matt cut the silence. “Would you like to eat?” Matt said releasing your chin. You walked away from him and towards the brown bag, which you approached cautiously. You grabbed it quickly, opening it slowly. Inside you saw sealed sushi rolls. Your eyes widened, you loved sushi. You quickly smiled grabbing out a roll and chop sticks. You ran to the living room and sat down on your couch, excited to eat. Matt hung up his hat and mask on the coat hanger, grabbing the bag and following you to the living room. When you saw his face again, with stubble of his beard your stomach turned.

You shook your head, he was a murderer, a criminal, you can’t like him- no way. But fuck those eyes, that perfect jawline…it killed you.

You looked back up at him as he had a hand on the back of his head rubbing it awkwardly, awaiting an invitation to join you. He looked almost flustered? You sighed and patted the seat next to you, which he quickly took, resting his arm on the top of the couch behind you. Spreading his legs wide enough to make you feel some way. The postion he was in made you wet at the sight. You pushed down the emotions and looked at the tv, fumbling with the remote to find something to watch. You finally decided on some 2000s movie. You set the sushi on the coffee table and turned to Matt who was already staring at you with a smirk, and his head leaned back on the couch. Your face grew red, you could feel it heating up. The dirty thoughts started clouding your mind, filling your eyes with lust. Imaging his veiny hands holding your neck as he pounded yo- “Y/N.” Matt interrupted. You quickly snapped back to reality, finding his gaze again. “Y-yeah?”you said nervously. Matt wasted no time, “How bad do you want to kiss me right now?” He said with a smirk, leaning in closer. “More than I want to…” you spat out. “Yeah?” Matt said voice laced with lust and need. “Then what are you waiting for?” Matt said getting even closer, your noses almost touching. His hand began running up your thigh causing you to gasp. You placed you hand on his cheek, and before you can talk yourself out of it you smash your lips onto his. You fight his tongue for dominance, and once you begin winning Matt grabs your hips and moves you to his lap, never breaking the kiss. You put both hands on either side of his face, just to bring him as close at possible. You begin rocking your hips against him growing erection, causing him to let out a groan in your mouth. He tangled one hand in your hair and kept the other planted on your ass, squeezing ever so lightly. He broke the kiss, letting you catch your breath. “This wrong…you’re a criminal, I should have you arrested.” You said shaking your head. “Oh sweet girl, I am not a murderer. I’d never hurt a soul.” Matt smirked. You just sighed, against your better judgement leaned back in for another more passionate kiss. “I think I’d let you hurt me.” You sighed. Matt lifted his hand and wrapped it softly around your neck, causing the heat between your legs begin to pool. “Yeah? Thing is..I could never hurt you.” Matt said as he began kissing your neck, leaving hickeys. “Shorts and panties off.” Matt demanded. You quickly got up and removed your shorts and panties as he removed his sweats and boxers. You got back on Matt, hovering above his throbbing cock. He looked up at you, “Do you wanna do this Y/N?” Matt asked sweetly. You nodded quickly, “please.” You begged. Matt placed his hands on your hips and began lowering you down, stretching out your walls inch by inch. You let out whines as his thick long cock spread you out slowly. Desperately you sunk quickly in his cock, taking him in full. Causing him to let out a groan, burying his nose in your neck. Matt lifted you up a little, supporting you wait. Matt began railing you upward, starting slow. “That’s it baby, taking me like a good girl.” Matt praised keeping his eyes on yours.

“Faster Matt please!” You begged. Matt took your request and began thrusting harder, grunting with each thrust as you moaned uncontrollably. You couldn’t control the sounds slipping out. “Go on, tell me what you’re thinking beautiful girl.” Matt demanded with breathy moans in between. “I’m thinking how fucking….” You gasped with a moan. “How fucking sexy you are…how bad I need you.” You confessed. Matt flipped you on all fours, gripping your hips he began mercilessly slamming into you. You began screaming his name, his dirty words praising you. He grabbed your hair in a pony and pulled on it. You felt your stomach began to tighten, your worlds colliding. “G-gonna cum!” You screeched. “Cum for me baby.” Matt urged. Your walls tightened, begging for his cum. Matt’s thrust began getting sloppier and you could tell his was close. “Inside of me…” you begged. Matt groaned as he sunk his cock fully inside of you, filling you up completely. Matt fell onto your back, his chest crashing with your back. Matt put in a few more thrusts, finishing you off completely. As he pulled out and you crashed down he sat up next to you catching his breath. You flipped over quickly and sat up on your knees on the couch. You grabbed his cheeks turning him to face you. “You’re not leaving again.” You demanded. Matt smiled softly. “Anything for my princess.” Matt smirked before carrying you bridal style up to your bathroom. Setting you in the stand up shower he turned on the hot water, climbing in next to you, finally fully naked. You clung to him as he held your waist, he began rubbing in soap all around your body. “God you’re beautiful.” He praised you smiled putting your forehead against his upper chest. He kissed your head sweetly.

After the shower he dried you off, taking you to your room and throwing you on the bed with a laugh. You giggled as he came to hover over you, his hands on either side of your head.

You felt something touching your stomach, looking down to see his hard erect penis. You began palming him as he let out a groan.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish Y/N…” Matt warned.

People who asked for part 2 !!! (I’ll make a tag list thingy soon❤️)

@vschrissturn @townofangels

#matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo smut #sturniolosmut #matt sturniolo x you #horror #smut

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flowerwiththemachinegun · 5 months ago

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I see you doing BEAUTIFUL soul soothing slice of life Zack stuff.

I ask for Zack first because..I'm weird but please do feel free to include the firsts and HOJO!, BECAUSE I've never seen anyone do hojo love, it's wild!

What,would zack do for his lover having a migraine? How would he comfort/cuddle/spoil...

Cook special food? Pet names? Home remedies?

THANK YOU! LMAO I’ve been told I’m the most down bad individual people have met due to my love of Hojo. 10/10 would tie that man to the cross and do my thing with him.

I love this ask cause I’m prone to migraines. I have also tortured myself trying to make them stop. I lock myself in the closet to get away from any sounds and light these days. Good god I’m probably too eager to write Hojo’s.

____________________________________________

Zack “put em in a pack” Fair

I’m certain you have to thoroughly explain what a migraine is to him. The first time you said you had a migraine he continued doing everything at his usual “Zack Volume” fuckin loud. Shiva bless his heart but he lacks brain cells. You told him to quiet down and now he won’t stop whispering everything, that man will whisper in uppercase from the other room.

Now that he understands, he must make a routine for you. Yes yes, that man headed straight to Moogle Search to look up home remedies. It would turn into Zack’s first crime against humanity. Making you a cup of turmeric and ginger based tea, accompanied by an aftertaste so foul you weren’t sure you wanted to even ask what he put in it. As hard as you try, your face says it all and now he’s got the sad puppy eyes, “but baby I really tried.” In that cute pouty voice of his, you know the one he’s still whispering. Please let him know you appreciate the effort but not the attempt at murder.

If there is any medicine that helps relive your pain he’ll have it on hand. He even keeps a supply at his own home, going as far as to carry it around when you’re together because Zack knows they randomly sprout up. He’s learned “the squint” as he calls it. Claiming whenever a migraine is creeping in you start squinting at everything. Awn, cute boy is catching on to the cues. After you tell him about visual impairment/eye pain that can accompany your migraines he’s back on the internet finding ways to relive that too. (Pls Zack it’s not gonna help just cuddle)

After months of trying numerous concoctions Zack would attempt to make you once again, Shiva bless his heart. Despite you telling him in advance, he finally concludes these do not help and he can't really do much about it, it made him feel a bit useless. “ ‘cause if I can’t help my baby, what am I doing?” Telling Zack that everything else he does is perfect when he’s trying to make you feel better. He provides you lots of cuddles, only leaving the bed when he’s certain you’re asleep, though it’s only for necessities. Zack very much prefers to keep you against him as long as humanly possible. You’re his "little kitty", you know the rules with that. If the cat lays on you, you do not move.

Makes sure to turn off any lights, closing all of the curtains/blinds to keep as much light out as possible. Cooking is questionable with him but he can make some of your favorite snacks as long as they’re simple. Anything that he can get you from the store? He’s going to make sure it’s in your possession, even if he has to go completely out of his way to get whatever you want. Nearly every time Zack goes out to get snacks/favorite foods, he brings back a plushie. You have such a large army of plushies that you have to beg him to stop bringing them. Gaia, he even brought you a chibi Zack for when he’s on missions. (You love it, how could you not)

Zack also recognizes sometimes migraines make you nauseous, even causing you to vomit at times. No matter, it doesn’t bother him at all. He’s going to make sure your hair is out of the way, clean you back up, carry you to bed and as you sleep, he’s looking at more home remedies. One thing I can imagine him able to cook is a few types of soups Angeal taught him, to at least get something light on your stomach.

Sephiroth- pillow fort part 2? (he wasn’t allowed much time to be a kid, so he enjoys doing childish activities with you)

This is the man for the job, can’t get your surroundings dark enough? Sephiroth shall begin the construction. He now realizes why you have a million pillows, even taking the pillows and cushions off of your couch to make it more comfortable. Layering blankets and sheets to ensure it’s completely dark in there. He’s ready for his cat house to cuddle you. Stays awake until you fall asleep, it's not really anything new, he's just significantly more adamant about it when you aren't feeling well. Seems a bit sad when you take his fort down due to his "hard work and dedication." It's okay, he knows it can't stay up forever, he'll be able to build another soon.

You’re already overly spoiled by Sephiroth, to which he’d say “there’s never a such thing as too much for you.” He's going to try and find you the best doctors around, not affiliated with Shinra of course. He doesn't want them coming anywhere near you. He knows medicine won't always help, but you know what does? His dick. His outstanding ability to take care of you. Forehead kisses for days. Will scoop you in his lap, holding you until you start dozing off. I don't think this one can cook either, but he'll attempt making your favorite comfort foods until he cooks it exactly to your liking. "nothing less than perfection for you".

He'll go out of his way to buy blackout curtains for his own home. Luckily Sephiroth is extremely quiet, half of the time you don't even know when he arrives. It's like he materializes out of thin air. Due to this you don't have to really ever worry about loud sounds. Finding his voice to be soothing you ask him to read to you until you fall asleep. He's a bit awkward about it at first, but he gets use to it and comes to love doing so.

Angeal (the healer)

Oh yea, you're getting super spoiled by this one. He's putting on his "best chef" apron and getting to work. Not before he tucks you into bed, kissing your forehead and tucking you in, he'll even fluff the pillows. If you like having background sound or really are in the mood to watch something, he has memorized shows/movies that have a minimal amount of ungodly bright scenes. Even turns the brightness down all the way, going as far to adjust the color and of course lowering the volume.

Always asks what kind of food you think your stomach can handle just in case it's one of those nausea inducing migraines. Can make anything you ask or he'll find recipes that are supposed to accommodate your migraines. He's not sure if the home remedies work, but at least you're always happy with each meal he makes you.

Once you're fed and comfortable, Angeal is on his way to wrap you up in his arms. Loves it when you climb on him and rest your head against his chest because you told him his "heartbeat makes me feel better." He's read in an article that pressure points can help alleviate migraines. He has no clue which pressure points to target so he's going to give you a full body massage in hopes that you feel better. hands of god you'll be feeling something alright

Also goes out of his way to buy blackout curtains or anything that may help him keep his home dark when the light is too much. Buys those little motion lights that are dim so when you walk into a room you'll be able to see without it feeling like a flashbang. Angeal doesn't make too much noise either so sound is also not a problem with him. Despite that he gives you a hushed apology any time he thinks he did something too loud.

Genesis (please don't recite Loveless, jk he'd annoy me but i'd love it)

Recites Loveless to you in a hushed tone as you fall asleep on his chest. Genesis is more than willing to read any piece of literature you want, only if you make a special request. He's always going to pull out Loveless by default.

Runs a bath for you, adding a eucalyptus based epsom salt and bubbles to help you relax in hopes to ease some of that tension.(something with a soft scent as strong smells can be too much). "Of course he's aware of your sensitivity to light, in turn lighting a couple of candles to add his romantic flare. He's taking these baths with you, without a doubt. Massaging your back and gently doing the same for your neck. He has an experts touch, that man will make you melt like butter. Loves soaking with you pressed against him, dries you off and tucks you into bed.

This one is also a cook, maybe not as good as Angeal, but definitely not as bad as Sephiroth. Knows your favorite comfort foods and will go out of his way to make it for you as you hide in bed.

Manages to find the best medicine. You're surprised it actually helps. After asking where Genesis got it from you find out he broke into Hojo's lab after a discussion between the two about what was the best treatment for a migraine. Says he stole them because he didn't want the medicine altered as most of his medicines are.

Hojo (my eyes are so far back in my head right now, im excited)

The first time you stumbled into his lab, all but screaming at him to cut of the lights he just stares at you like a madman. "Do you not seeing me working?" I mean, sure you did, once your eyes finally adjust you can see something or someone(????) cut open on a surgical table. Great, migraine increases tenfold.

When he finally finished whatever absurd thing he was doing to that poor carcass he comes to examine you. Maybe you should have gone home instead. Shining that goofy fuckin flashlight directly in your eyes. You tried slapping it out of his hands to which he rolls his eyes as you completely miss his hand stating that "it's a pupil test, I have to check for abnormalities." to which you can't help but tell Hojo that he is the only abnormality.

Injects you with god knows what, but hey, the migraine surprisingly vanished. The next time you come into his lab due to a migraine, he immediately takes into account that you were just here a few days ago over the same thing. Once again taking you back through those oh so annoying examinations before prescribing you some pills. When you question what the pills were he chuckles, telling you in a condescending tone that "you wouldn't remember how to say it even if you tried." With that he tells you to come back after all pills are gone so he can see how you're doing.

Your next visit with Hojo will teach you to never tell him something is wrong with you again. When you began taking the medicine the migraines were easing up, but now it's like they're worse. This time he gives you a different type of medicine, now you're just sleepy. All will be just fine, when you wake up you won't even know he's been poking around your brain.

****************************************************

I’m a bit sad I forgot to put in the random bouts of pure confusion migraines can put you through. I’ll never forget grabbing my airpods and I was pretty certain it was a bar of soap. It wasn’t. I don’t even know how I thought something that small was soap, or how I tried to wash my hands for so long with them

#sephiroth #ff7 #sephiroth x reader #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #ffvii #final fantasy vii #ff7 crisis core #professor hojo #zack fair #zack fair x reader #angeal hewley x reader #genesis rhapsodos x reader #final fantasy 7

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writingroom21 · 7 months ago

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Hey sweetie not sure if you take requests but imagine this rafe x ghost face reader smut

She’s shy introverted sweet and awkward and she's a pouge. (btw she's heavily obsessed with rafe)

Rafe on the other hand is cold, rude and a bully towards her since she's a pouge (he's got a crush on her but she doesn't know)

Reader basically kills the girls that flirt with or date him.

A/N: Hey hun! I do take request so keep them coming! I love the way your mind works. The idea of reader being just as if not more unhinged than him is amazing. I hope you like it!

Bloody Love

Warnings: Mention of blood, murder, stalking. Reader is unhinged and will take anyone thats in her way out.

Wc: 2.9K

part 2

Living in Kildare was perfect if you were a Kook. They were rich, popular, and had no worries in the world. Oh and did you mention RICH. Being on the poor side of the island wasn’t that bad. Everyone was nice to each other and helped out. You’ve never once felt less than when it came to other pogues. The same thing can’t be said about the kooks. The war between kooks and pogues never seemed as important to anyone but Rafe.

Him and his friends love to terrorize every pogue they come in contact with. On countless occasions you’ve been there to witness their rage and hatred. Hanging out with friends? Not anymore you are trying to break up a fight. Trying to get food? Nope you’re being corned in as they hurl insults at you. One time they even threw old moldy food at you as you were walking home from work.

To say that Rafe hates any pogue he sees would be an understatement. Which is why your obsession with him is so bad. You can’t seem to be drawn to him any chance you get. At parties you find your way to where he’s selling. Always saving up some money to buy something from him. Sometimes it’s coke but usually it's weed, not really liking the way coke makes you lose full control.

“What the fuck do you want?” It’s the same way he greets you everytime. “Can I get a half?” With a roll of his eyes, he grabs a bag that had bud in it. You watch as he gathers a half for you, staring at his hands. “$120.” He holds a hand out waiting for you to drop the money in his hands. “What? It was never that much before.” Everyone that's sitting is watching the two of you. He smirks at you leaning back on the couch with his arms crossed. “What’s the problem? Too fucking poor to even get some weed? How fucking pathetic do you have to be to come here and not even have cash.” Everyone laughs.

Your cheeks blush, uncomfortable with all the attention on you. The embarrassment is starting to eat at you as they laugh at you. “Sorry it’s just.” He interrupts you. “It's just what? You’re some disgusting ass pogue who thinks she deserves a hand out. Do us all a favor and just fuck off. Dumb ass bitch.” A round of laughs echo in your ears again. Tears form in your eyes as you back away. “Yea sorry.” You leave before he could say anything else.

As you left you heard a girl giggle and Rafe speak. “I know. She’s so fucking weird.” He tells the girl that’s now sitting on his lap. You see as he drags a hand up and down her leg, placing kisses on her neck. He eyes find yours in the crowd, he sends a wink your way. You can’t help the anger that you feel at that moment. He embarrassed you once again and now he’s all over some girl. You just don’t understand why he cares so much that you have no money.

You sit in your car outside the party, forcing yourself not to cry about him. When you were younger he wasn’t like this. He even helped you once after you scraped your knee from falling off your bike. He changed for the worse towards the end of middle school and the beginning of highschool. It was his friend and those girls that threw themselves at him. There was no way that he would actually act like that.

You see Rafe and the girl walk out the party and get into his truck. Starting up your car you follow him on the road. You aren’t sure what you are doing, you just know you need to see where he’s going. He parks outside a nice house that isn’t his, it has to be hers. You torture yourself by watching as they race inside the house. Sharing kisses as she tries to open the door to let them in. Your heart breaks at the scene in front of you.

What does she have that you don’t? Money that’s for sure. Maybe she’s more beautiful than you and that’s why he ignores you. Your self spiral lasts an hour. A whole hour where you sat in your car looking at the windows to see if you could see them. It wasn’t until he was leaving the house with a stupid smirk that your composure snapped. He doesn’t see how they are bad for him, he’ll stay stuck in this dark spiral his whole life. You have to save him from it.

Getting out of the car you make your way to your truck and take out a tire wrench. You're in autopilot mode, banging on the door till she opens it. “What are you doing here?” She shrieks at you but you're already pushing inside of the house. “Get out or I’m calling the-” You raise your arm, the tire wrench swinging down on her. A crack can be heard as it hits her skull. She lets out a scream trying to run away but you hit her again causing her to fall on the ground.

She’s crawling in the hallway, letting out little sobs as she tries to get away from you.There's a blood trail from where you first hit her to where she is on the floor right now. Her tears only intensify as you walk closer to her. She turns around backing up from you. “Please don’t do this. I promise I won’t say anything. Please, you don't need to kill me.” Her pleas for her life should stop you from continuing. Then you remember how she laughed at you and how she was just with Rafe. You kneel down next to her laughing as she cries. “Yeah I actually do.” The next blow to her head has her out cold, blood pooling around her.

You should leave now but you can’t stop. Your anger being released for the first time in years. When you stop and get up you can see your reflection in the mirror. You have her blood all over you. Head to toe she’s on you. You walk out the house leaving her there to be found later and get into your car. Not noticing the headlights down the road watching.

It felt good after. Washing her off of you was like a prize for all your work. One step closer to saving Rafe from those who deceive him. Which is what you decide is best for him. He needs protecting since he can’t do it himself. He’ll learn to appreciate you. The news of that girl's death was the talk of the island. Everyone was scared of going out thinking they would be next.

Each week gave you a new reason to protect him. The week after the first girl you were at another party. Some part of you is still seeking him out. The masochist in you wants the pain of the rejection he gives you. You didn’t have to get far to get that feeling. There he was leaving a bedroom at the top of the stairs. Some random girl trailing out behind him with her hands feeling him up. That red rage you felt comes back, ready to scream your head off from his sheer stupidity.

“Gonna ask for weed you can’t pay for again?” He’s invading your space, your back hitting the wall. “Bet you don’t even have money on you right now. Willing to sell yourself just to get free drugs.” He wants to see you cry, get you to break for him. Your eyes gloss over, looking at the girl waiting for him. Rafe looks back to see what you are looking at. He laughs really hard in your face. “Don’t tell me you really think that will be you.” The girl behind him laughs, getting closer to place a hand on his back. “Come on Rafey. Leave her alone, she's no one.”

Your eyes meet his hoping he’ll say anything. All he does is start to walk away with her, looking at you to say one last thing. “Exactly. A nobody.”

That night you showed her how much of a nobody she is. Following her with your car as she walks home alone. Stupid bitch you think. She finally notices you following her and that’s when the fun begins. She tries to run but can’t get too far with your car speeding up. She hits the hood of your car with a bang and you step on the breaks. Sending her flying on the road. She tries to get away but the pain radiating her body doesn't let her get far.

Stepping out the car you grab the knife you brought with you. Holding it as you get closer to her. All she can see is the shadow of your outline from the headlights, the knife shining in the light. “Please, don’t do this.” She holds a hand up, hoping this is all a mistake and you accidentally hit her. “But I do. This nobody is going to make sure girls like you can’t hurt him anymore.” She cries out asking who you're talking about but the knife is already down. The motion repeated until she’s not breathing anymore. Satisfied you leave her on the road, making your way home to clean up.

The cycle continues for weeks, each victim begging to be spared. The Sheriff’s department has been going crazy trying to find out who was doing this. Theories have been thrown around on who it could be. Some think it’s just some psycho from the mainland since it’s only a weekly thing. Never happening more than once. That was until he pushed you past your limits. He had been more ruthless than he normally is.

It’s like he’s actively searching you out to make your life a living hell. He comes into the bookstore you work at. Throwing around the books and leaving the place a mess so you have to clean it all up. He watches as you clean it all up, looking up and down your body. He sometimes wishes you weren’t a pogue, things would be easier. As soon as the thought crosses his mind he has to pack it away. “God, you can’t even do your own job correctly. No wonder you’re so fucking poor.”

He likes seeing you so submissive for him. Never talking back to him no matter how much he degrades you. Some sick part of him getting off on the control he seems to have on you. It’s one of the reasons he’s always so mean to you, the other being he wants to put on a show for everyone. “I am doing my job.” You murmur picking up a book to put it away. “The fuck did you just say?”

“Nothing.” You keep picking things up and putting them away. You hear him get a call and talk to the other person. “Yeah baby I’ll be right there. Was just taking care of a few things. Why don’t you wear that lingerie I got you?” You meet his eyes when you look at him, his blue eyes already watching you. With a sly smile he walks towards the door. “Bye pogue. Got this hot girl I need to get to.” He’s out the door before you can answer. That was four hours ago.

After your shift you spent some time driving around trying to find his car. You used the tracker you put on his truck to find it. Seeing it parked in front of a house you parked down the street waiting for him to leave. Leading to right now. Rafe walks to his truck on the phone as the girl watches from the doorway. The same scene you’ve been watching for weeks.

Opening the glove compartment you grab your knife and mask you started to wear. You get out once his truck speeds off and you sneak to the back of the yard. Two weeks into all of this you made a habit of scaring them. The rush you felt when they stared at you in horror was satisfactory. You throw pebbles at different windows, carefully watching as the girl searches her house.

The back door was open so you made your way inside. Making sure not to close it so she knows she’s not alone. “Hello?” She calls out from the living room when she sees the kitchen door open. She realized how fucked she was, the news couldn’t stop talking about the murders and now here she is. In a house all alone with the door open even though she thought everything was locked. Getting scared she goes to run to her room so she can call the cops. Only to be greeted with the sight of you in her way.

You swipe the knife at her, nicking her arm as she blocks you. A scream rings in your ears as you chase her around the house. Each time you do this it gets longer, letting yourself enjoy the power you feel. You should probably be more careful, the longer they take the sooner you can get caught. Yet you can’t seem to care at all.

The girl ran into her room, closing the door only to be blocked by your body. “Oh no you don’t” You push the door open causing her to fall on her back. It reminds you of the first time as she backs up. Her hands and feet slipped on the floor from the blood. You walk up to her, getting down on the floor to crawl on her. Your body weight holds her down, her sobs shaking you both.

You lean over to get closer to her face. “Maybe this time you will all learn.” He cries leaning her head to the side, wiggling to get out of your grip. “Learn? What did I do to you?” He cries louder. “I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t even know who you are.” Taking off the mask you look her in the eyes. “I don’t need you to know me. I need you dead.”

The knife lodges in her chest, right where her heart is. Life leaves her eyes as you twist the knife around. There’s a creak from behind you. You stumble from the body, fumbling to put the mask on and get the knife. You stand fully to see Rafe taking in the blood bath in front of him. You’re internally freaking out because you were just caught not just by anyone, by Rafe.

“Listen, I can explain.” He walks into the room, taking a hold of the mask. He yanks it along with some of your hair making you squeal. One of his hands grips your jaw with brutal force. “What the fuck are you thinking huh? Could hear her scream from outside the house, at least do it right.” You give him a questioning look as he backs away. He looks down at the body again and pulls you out the house. “Come on before someone else finds you.”

The house is a blur from how fast he drags you out. His truck is parked behind your car, he ignores your protests as he pushes you in the passenger side. “Where are your keys?” You blindly hand them over. He grabs them and sticks his hand out the window as Barry comes into view. Barry grabs the keys and gets into your car, driving off to who knows where.

“Where’s he taking my car?” He starts the truck driving off. “Somewhere that doesn’t have a dead body near it.” He’s talking this better then you would have thought. Wait, why is he even here? “Why are you here?” Rafe side eyes you, hand raising to brush spots of blood off your cheek. “Some psycho has been going around killing girls that I’ve been seeing.” Your body curls into itself, squishing against the door. “I’m sorry.”

You feel ashamed of yourself now. It was all fun and games until you got caught. The guilt of everything hitting you hard. Rafe pulls to the side of the road needing to see your face. “You’re sorry? Here I thought you were going around killing them for me.” He sees your eyes widen. “You did though right. I saw you that night, you know. Saw you watching me as I left and when you came out the house covered in blood.” Your eyes are watching his fingers that are playing with yours. “You saw me?”

“Yeah, went back cause I thought I left something.” He doesn’t know why he’s going to admit this but he does. “Made sure you saw them so I could really know. Couldn’t stop myself once they all kept turning up dead.” He knew and he played a part in it? Setting up every encounter so you would kill them after. His mind is as messed up as yours is.

“Why?” Your eyes flicker up to his. “Because you are just as insane as I am.” Pushing air behind your ear he gets close. “You need me to protect you. I can’t let you go.” Your ears perk up. He wants to protect you like you do for him. “Like I protect you?” Smiling he nods. “Yeah baby. We got each other.”

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #obx #rafe x you #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks

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hearts4werka · 4 days ago

Text

SECRETS OF THE UNDEAD SHADOWS

“Get fucked, you bitch! I ain’t gonna do shit!“

A new series in which... you and your mother move to an apartment complex for a new beginning after a traumatic event happened in your home town and as soon as you arrive, you have a strange feeling about the place right away, you meet interesting friends and gather a ghost hunting friend group along the way and investigate the origins of all the infamous murders and crimes of ‘Veronica’s Strange Apartments’ in the town of Boston, Massachusetts. Year 1998

This series will contain… a lot of sensitive & dark topics, including paranormal activity and sexual content, mentions of a traumatic past & uncovering a truly fucked up murder investigation, please be aware of what you’re consuming on the internet!

- - > click here to find the rest of the chapters!

! English is not my first language !

- CHAPTER TWO - Strangers Next Door…

The Past - year 1998

A sudden loud thud could be heard coming from the other side of the wall and next door which immediately shocks me awake, rising from my bed into a sitting position and looking around the room cautiously as there is a possible possibility that someone could have broke into my apartment, my breath quickens intensely as my eyes scan the room before they land down on Chris who seemed to slowly be waking himself from the loud noise. “Chris, are you awake?” I call out quietly as I hear him as well sit up and his eyes find mine, the same amount of horror hiding behind them as mine. “Well, am now. And what the actual fuck was that?” “I’m trying to figure out the same thing!” I whisper-shout, feeling a cold shiver run down my spine at the horrible scenarios creating in my mind like pop-rock candy pop in your mouth whenever you place them on your tongue, being all so sudden and hard to comprehend all at the same time. “Wanna go check it out?” He asks and I glance at him as if he just cussed out my whole bloodline, “Fuck no! That’s literally the main reason why people in horror movies die first, they go towards the shit when they should be running away!” I once again whisper-shout but now at him, he rolls his eyes and get out from under his covers, not paying any mind to his messy sleeping area left behind “Fine, have fun being alone in a dark room then because I’m going.” He states and starts walking toward my room door and I hesitantly follow behind, not wanting him to go alone, he creaks the door open to check if the coast is clear, when we’re sure it is. We sneak out of my room and slip out from my apartment through the main exit door to investigate the sound further.

We peak from behind my apartment door to check what’s happening next door and our ears get suddenly assaulted by a bloody scream of a woman, I didn’t really know who could have possibly lived there since I haven’t really socialized with all of the other tenants in the apartment complex but a scream being filled with this much horror couldn’t spike anyone’s interest to help even if they don’t know the person, we both cover our ears through the duration of the bloody high-pitch scream since we were pretty close to the source of it. Suddenly, as we observe the closed neighbors apartment door and start to plan on stepping further to investigate, a woman who looks around but over the age of thirty was pushed out of the apartment, covered in blood alongside a weird mysterious liquid we could not identify as anything we’ve seen before as she holds her stomach and seems to be also holding her head to stay in place, as if it has been not fully decapitated and her still managing to stay alive somehow with such dangerous and harsh injuries, “Do you hear that?” I whisper as quiet as I can so she doesn’t catch onto our presence in the hallway, “Hear what?” “What she’s saying.” My ears quick up a soft chant coming from past her lips, quietly chanting “Let me die, please, Tagmonnan, I can’t take this torture anymore” which sends a cold shiver down my spine, Chris doesn’t seem to really pick up on the chant but I whisper the words into his ear and his reaction is the same as mine, concerned and freaked out. I softly jump as a harsh hand is suddenly lied on my shoulder, a worried whisper hitting both of our ears. “The fuck is happening here? And what are you doing here, Chris?” Both of us immediately turn our heads around to see who the mysterious person could be behind the voice and to my surprise, my eyes met the one brother I still haven’t had the chance to meet, Matthew, from what I could make out from the harsh shadows casted over my clouded vision I noticed a few piercings adoring his face with similar and almost identical features and structure to Chris & Nick’s but still had a unique twist to it, making it look different despite the similarity between the three brothers.

His barely visible black fluffy hair I could harshly make out the outline of fell over his forehead in a messy way, looking like he’s just woke up in the dark pajamas he was wearing. When he opens his mouth to talk again Chris just pulls him down next to him to hide Matt from any possible glimpse the woman could get of our presence, when he opens his mouth to ask for an explanation for all of this we quickly shush him and tell him to stay quiet with our pointer finger being pressed against the middle of our lips, he immediately stays quiet and joins us on lurking at the woman who keeps chanting under her breath and for some reason, I feel a cold pair of hands push down on my shoulders as if to shove me to the floor, I look at the guys and see their hands nowhere near my body which makes me freak out ever more than I already was, attempting to grab at the hands and push them off but I felt nothing on my shoulders but the constant weight on them stayed until I fell to the cold ground with a soft quiet thud. My breathing becomes labored as the cold hands finally leave my shoulders, the weight being lifted off them at the same time which makes me sigh in relief, my eyes look up to see the both of the guys strangely looking at me as I stay on the floor, “Viv, are you good? Why are you on the floor?” Chris asks concerned as he extends his hand to help me get up from the floor, Matt gives me a simple worried look as I get up from the floor. “I.. I don’t know actually, I’ll explain later. Now let’s focus on the task at hand.” I answer softly, feeling slightly dazed as I feel a small cold pain spread across my back, a similar feeling to the hands on my shoulders from earlier.

By the time we look back at the strange woman, she’s now gone but a bloody trail was left behind that drags through the length of the rest of the hall, all of us glance between each other with horror spreading across our faces at the horrifying sigh. “We’re way over our heads right now, we should probably go back to our apartments now and tell our parents.” Matt suggests, his voice raising to a more audible state and ready to get the actual fuck out of here, Chris seems to consider his words and nods his head positively but I show a disagreed facial expression and shake my head negatively. “We can’t tell them cause they would want to go to the police, and I know I haven’t been long here in this town but it seems we would have to handle this on our own. I don’t think a random powerful demon would come here overnight, this looks like it’s been happening for longer now and who knows if the government isnt in on all of this?” I state, attempting to prove a point that if we let anyone else know what we’re up to and that we are investigating all these strange mysterious crimes happening in the walls we sleep in each night could get us in some serious trouble, “Yeah, I kinda get where Viv is coming from. We should leave this under the covers for now,” Chris agrees, Matt also starting to consider my words and nods his head. “Okay, well I think we should go to sleep now.. I’m pretty tired y’know?” Matt adds his own word, letting out a sleepy yawn and running a lazy hand through this messy hair. “What do we think about… a sleepover?” I suggest cheerfully to lighten up the tense air surrounding us and they both nod their head and we quietly enter my apartment and retreat to my room, seeing the mess me and Chris have left behind in the still oddly empty room.

I grab some pillows and blankets from one of the boxes laying around inside of my room and create another sleeping area for Matt next to Chris’s on the floor since there isn’t much furniture inside of here, we settle down in our spots and continue to sit there and give our opinions on what possibly could have been a sensible explanation for the strange woman being attacked next door, or maybe she did it to herself? “I honestly think she did that to herself because of the chats she was saying like she was saying she wanted to die and mentioned a demon name, that’s not normal human behavior.” I conclude whatever I heard on the topic if she either did it to herself or it was done to her. When the room goes silent for a minute, Matt decides it’s his turn to voice his opinion further. “Well, I’m positive that bitch was fucking insane.” A soft chuckle is earned me and Chris, Matt joining in soon after as we nod our heads in agreement. “Yeah, obviously! She was probably possessed by that demon she was calling out to since there isn’t much evidence and just our eye witnesses, and maybe someone else who surely had to hear the loud ass noises she was makin’. “ Chris says, seeming to still be shaken up by the situation with Me and Matt both included, we started to create a plan on how we would start investigating the matter and possibly look deeper into the crime history of this building since who knows what could the landlord be hiding inside of their building. “We need a plan on how we’re gonna sneak into that room without anyone seeing us, are y’all down?” Both of them agree in unison to start mapping out a full-proof investigation, since I haven’t made any enemies with any of the other tenants and since I was new to the apartments, I would go on a hunt around the apartments tomorrow to possibly figure out something else from the people who have been living here longer than me, obviously, and besides I was happy to meet new people and find our other information that could maybe come in handy in the future of this investigation.

“Since we’re going to have Viv now occupy some of the neighbors, me and Matt could sneak into the crazy lady’s apartment next to yours, I’ve got walkie talkies back in my room so we can use that for communication but we kinda would have to stay in the same range so the signal doesn’t cut off.” Chris adds, his eyes roaming the room as if he wanted to find something as a sudden cold breeze waves over our exposed skin, my window certainly wasnt opened and I’ve read into this in the past on my moms work computer back at our old place that this could mean a possible entity or ghost was passing by us, maybe it could be the demon or something worse? I decided not to overthink it as it seemed to be the smallest issue right now and went back to the plan at hand. “I’m fine with that,” I state and we look over to Matt for his response to the plan, “Yeah me too, you guys really got me into this shit so it’s okay with me, was wanting to go into that room ever since I saw you guys outside peakin’ at it since I got woken up by that loud ass noise.” Matt states and rubs his sleepy eyes, everyone’s faces were shadowed with tiredness from all of these events coming to sit as a weight on our back and be our responsibility now to keep the other tenants save from whatever is happening here, we just know one thing that we cannot tell not let anyone in on this who we don’t trust, visible theories rise in my mind as I start analyzing Matt’s words carefully. “Since you heard that noise, there could be a possibility that we might have not been the only ones who woke up to the noise,” I speak the most vivid thought that was swirling around in my mind alongside other theories, some seeming also ridiculous as well as reasonable at the same time but I couldn’t determine which ones were and which ones weren’t with the constant feeling of pressure on my back. “That just makes this whole thing go deeper and deeper, and currently I’m not awake enough to be brainstorming this any longer now, can we talk more about this in the morning?” We seem to come to one agreement after Chris’s statement, tomorrow we’ll wake up early in the morning and discuss this forth we as all of us look like we’re going to pass out any time soon, laying our heads down on our pillows and throwing on whatever each one of us had for warmth over our bodies and slowly started to doze off, though it seemed like me and Matt had different plans.

After it was obvious that Chris went to sleep, his soft snores proving our point, I hear someone call out my name in a quiet whisper. “Pssst, Viv, you still awake?” My eyes involuntarily open as I realize it thankfully wasnt any demon but rather Matt speaking from a small distance while still lying down in his sleeping area, “Yeah, cant really sleep, I’m assuming you too?” “Yup, it seems like so, but wanna talk more about this plan? I still have so many questions in my mind it feels like it’s going to burst with how many there are.” I chuckle softly at his words, agreeing and that I also had roaming questions left inside of my mind and with that all said, we went on to talk and elaborate further on the plan for almost an hour, shared some laughs and got to know each other a little better and found out that we share a lot of the same interests like me and Chris do, he also let me in on a little secret he had which was a secret crush on a girl in his class as he was thinking about asking her out on a date but she was the complete opposite of him and they didn’t share much in common but that is what pulled Matt in the most, as from what he said and what I could decipher from the infatuated words he shared about her, it warmed my heart how fast he trusted me with this information and told me about all of the emotions he was feeling towards her. Soon we got tired enough that we soon fell asleep into deep slumber, going into the same sleeping state as Chris currently was in, sleeping completely silently and peacefully.

The Present - year 2007

I squeeze and clutch the purple crystal close to my chest, my eyes involuntarily shutting closed as I transfer from the black void into the real world after I’ve heard someone call out my name, appearing inside of an old tree house where all of my old belongings are along with myself, when I open my eyes after I feel like I can, to my surprise I see Chris’s older brother Justin who looks shocked and terrified. When I feel I have a chance to finally talk to someone who knows where the triplets could possibly be located right now, “Justin?— Please listen to me right now, you’re my last chance to actually make things right! The shit we got into is much deeper than we ever thought!” I exclaim desperately, hoping he will listen to what I have to say, he only looks at me and starts to raise his voice until it turns into a scream, seeming like his brain just couldn’t comprehend what was happening and was resorting to react with fear and irrational thoughts. “Wha- who the fuck are you? G-get away from me!” He shouts as he backs away, inching closer to the opened trap door which is the exit leading down to an almost guaranteed death, my hands raise in a desperate gesture to attempt at trying to calm him down, my tone of voice, twisting with each panicked word coming out of my mouth.

“Justin, calm down man. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack if you keep freaking out, look, you need to get the guys here, this is my only chance before I end up in the void room and they need my help!” I quickly spit out a small explanation, just praying he does not fall down that trap door, “I don’t even know you, ..ghost-lady thing! I’m probably on some heavy shit right now and don’t realize it, and what makes you think I will help you with whatever witch bullshit—“ before he could step any closer to the opened hatch I close it just in time and roll my eyes at his frustrating comments, we’ve never actually had a chance to meet each other in person but I’ve seen him around the apartments whenever he would stop by the weekends to visit his family for ‘financial support’ as Chris told me in the past, I miss them. “Just stop being so frustrating to work with and cooperate with me for gods sake, this could get you and all of the other tenants inside of the apartments murdered if you don’t.” I reveal a small detail to possibly get him to get scared and listen, I’ve already achieved him shitting his pants but I can’t follow him around and write him small letters that he would just throw out and ignore, my soul is tied to the place I’ve died at and everyone’s soul is that way, thats an explanation to why the apartments can be so long as some of the ghosts havent passed on from the rooms they were murdered at.

“Why would I believe whatever a ghost in my mind is saying?” He says defensively, still believing that he could just possibly might be high on whatever drugs right now which just makes me more frustrated but I remain calm as that is the key to make him listen to me, it’s seriously my only wish for the possible last moments before the crystals magic fades and I wouldn’t be able to transport into the real world and could be stuck in the void room for all of eternity. “Oh my fucking god, you’re not on any goddamn drugs! For gods sake, listen! You need to get the guys here before the crystals magic fades or I won’t be able to help them if I’m gone in the void room and we need to work together in order to stop this! I’m not going to fucking repeat myself again.” I urgently demand, fed up with all of his bullshit and he seems to be silenced from my words and shutting his mouth from any bitchy remark he wanted to make, finally he shut his mouth willingly. “Okay okay, calm the fuck down, ghost-lady. I’ll see what I can do.” He states in an almost annoyed tone, as if he has a reason to be annoyed right now. No wonder he and Chris never got along with each other even after all of these years, I huff and wait for him to do something but he just stands there awkwardly and kicking air with his foot, “I would prefer if you did something right now, there’s not much time left!” I exclaim in a calmer way this time with slight hopes he will actually do something than just getting my hopes up, he rolls his eyes and sighs before turning around and opening the hatch to exit the tree house, I quickly notice a small smirk playing on his lips as he climbs down and then yells while laughing like some kind of villain. “Get fucked, you bitch! I ain’t gonna do shit!” My blood boils as the words hit my ears, feeling the crystals magic slowly fading away alongside myself. I curse softly underneath my breath as my form slowly becomes more unrecognizable until I end up in the last place I would want to be in, the void room.

— 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐃 📝 : hii everyone and this is the next chapter of this new series! This is coming out a bit later than it was supposed to because I’ve gotten pretty sick lately and I’m feeling like complete shit rn but I’ll be fine so dw guys, I’m so happy to be writing this series as it really brings me joy to see you guys enjoy it as much as I do!

Ofc creds and thanks to the lovely @/colorthecosmos444 for letting me use emo!matt in this series, it’s such an honor 💗

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 🏷️ | @sturnsxplr-25 @luvvs4chriss @sturniolosweets @pussypie456 @choclatestarfishwithahat @venusxsturnio @bagsbyclair0 @sturnstvs @dykes4chris @mattsbrat @hoe4matt @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @marrykisskilled @phone4pills @emely9274 @cupiidk1lls @lily-strnlo @st9rniolo @sturniolosiphone @sophand4n4 @zombiesturniolo @luvleyangeldust @owensbabygirl @sturnina @leoslaboratory @ifwdominicfike @kiemiu @lovergirl4gracieabrams @colorthecosmos444 @trevorsgodmother |

#✰ ! 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍 🦌 ! ✰#ᯓ 𝐒𝐎𝐓𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 🔦#✰ 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 ✰#paranormal #paranormal activity #ghost hunting #sally face #haunted apartment complex #crime investigation #murder investigation #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x reader #s

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0asisbliss · 10 months ago

Text

Super slaughter

Warnings: Gore, murder, kidnapping, torture, etc. (Not to reader) This wasn’t present in this current chapter, but later on it will be included in the series. if you’re kinda sensitive to that kind of stuff I don’t request you read this.🤷🏽‍♀️

A/n: I had a lot of fun making this🙃

Parings: Yandere!Choso x Fem!Reader

It’s a massive massacre it’s super slaughter~

You had pretty much good life so far you got into college, and got a job. It’s good pay, and you have free time on the weekends. You didn’t have many friends though, and family lived out the country, so didn’t really talk to anyone much. Even though you had a couple of friends most of them were either busy, or just ignored you when you reached out to them.

You basically had no one if you had really thought about it. That’s until you met him anyway. He was kinda weird looking. Hair in to top ponytails and big black eyes staring back at you. No wonder he was talked about among the girls back at campus. Even though everyone thought he was handsome and good looking. Everyone had one thing in common when saying things about him. He. Was. Weird. Always having his head in a book, or just staring out in space. You might think it’s normal for people to do that. Maybe? But when he does it’s creepy. So when he approached you asking to hang out with him. You hesitate first, but you end up agreeing.

He then asks for your number to make a time and place for you two to go.

Choso’s cheeks flush a bright red thinking of you and him together. When his mind starts to wonder else where he shakes those thoughts out of his head. That’s when he wants to hear your sweet voice again.

You’re sitting on your bed doing absolutely nothing scrolling through instagram instead of doing your assignments that are due tomorrow. You can clearly see his caller id, but do really wanna talk to someone right now? You thought to yourself. Nonetheless you pick up the phone, and once you pick it up Choso’s eyes beam with glee, and happiness.

“Hi…” Choso say directly into the phone to make sure you hear him.

“Hello Choso how are you?”

“I’m doing fine. You smelled good today” Choso said this in a serious tone as if he really wants you to know. Everything seems fine until you realize you didn’t even see him today.

“Oh! Uh Choso I don’t remember seeing you today?”

“Don’t worry love I saw you.” You think about what to say for a moment before responding. You giggle a bit at his nickname for you.

“Well thank you Choso! You’re so sweet.”

She called me sweet I can’t believe she called me sweet!

Choso went quiet for a while not saying anything at all. You just wondered he went to go do something, and he’d be back.

The phone hung up. You thought nothing of it and went back to what you were doing even though the conversation was weird.

The next day once you get on campus you run by the campus cafe to get a quick coffee. Then you catch your friends. You two walk around to pass time before class starts. She goes with you to 1st period math.

Kacey and you have actually been friends since high school. You two eventually grew closer when you two talked about going to the same college together. If you could talk about anything to anyone it would be her. She had such a bright and funny personality when it came to life she was just in general a bubbly person.

When you two entered class you sat down in your seats. You two sat close to the teacher for better hearing since the class was fairly big. As you two got ready for lecture you two would always have small conversations.

“I hear that you’ve found someone!”

“Huh? What? No not really I’m actually not looking for anyone at the moment.” You said bluntly wondering why she would say something like that.

“Aren’t you in a relationship with the cute weirdo Choso?”

“No? Who said that?”

“Choso himself? That’s what he told me.” She shrugs getting her notes out.

“Oh no. We’re not dating, I’m just gonna assume he thought wrong and maybe talk to him about it.” You said in a positive tone.

After a couple hours pass and class is over you rush to find Choso. Hopefully to find him before he tell anyone else the false rumor of you two dating.Hopefully he won’t go crazy about it.

#yandere jjk #yandere choso #Yandere choso x fem!reader #yandere x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #jjk x reader #0asisseries🩰#choso x reader #yandere boy #male yandere #choso jjk #jjk choso

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heliads · 1 year ago

Note

Theo raeken x fem!reader, theo confessing to reader but being rejected cause of all the stuff he did to the pack

a theo request?? anon god bless i miss him

masterlist

The first thing Stiles Stilinski says upon sprinting down the hallway to stop immediately in front of you, is, “Theo Raeken is going to kill us all again.”

The second thing Stiles tells you, without a single pause after the first nor one word of explanation, is, “And it’s all your fault.”

Stiles is prone to drama. He’s a lovely boy, sure, you’ve been his friend since you were a kid, and you’ve counted on him to save your life from the millions of dangers all living in the home you both call Beacon Hills, but you’ve learned to take pronouncements like these with a grain of salt.

So, instead of losing your mind with worry like you did the first dozen times Stiles approached you with yet another rumor of death and danger, you just smile, put the last of your books in your locker, and shut the door. Once you take a breath or two, you turn to face him at last.

“Good morning, Stiles,” you say pointedly, “How good to see you again. How was your weekend? Oh, you’re spouting off about another crazy theory? So good to hear! I know you’re going to tell it to me nicely, and you definitely won’t try to do something weird like blame me for it. That would be ridiculous, don’t you think?”

Stiles has the grace to look at least a little needled, but he still stands firm. “I’m not kidding, Y/N. We’re about to get hit by Hurricane Theo, Round Two, and when we’re all bloody, broken corpses, I’ll be having the last laugh.”

You frown. “I thought we would all be dead. How can you be laughing if we’re all bloody, broken corpses like you said?”

Stiles waves a hand irritably. “That’s why it would be the last laugh, idiot. I would rub it in your face then immediately pass away. Anyway, you’re not focusing.”

“I am focusing,” you argue, “I have been focusing on Theo Raeken for a while now. We all have.”

Stiles groans. “He’s going to try to topple our pack again, though. Look, I’ve been watching him for a while, and I know it. I can feel it. And I was right about him the first time, right? Even when you all doubted me, I was right. I’m going to be right again.”

As much as you’d like to have some snappy little comeback, you can’t deny that Stiles totally hit the nail on the head with Theo the first time around. Back when Theo Raeken returned to Beacon Hills for the first time in years, everyone in the McCall pack had been more than willing to welcome him with open arms. Only Stiles had second thoughts about the guy, and Stiles was proven right when Theo tried to kill Scott and take over the rest of you.

Now, though, you’re all aware of Theo’s twisted intentions. There’s no doubt in any of your minds that he’s still scheming, but for now, he’s been holding back. Nothing has happened to alert anyone’s suspicions more than usual, yet Stiles seems dead set in his latest theory.

You sigh and start to walk down the hallway, Stiles by your side. “Fine, then. What makes you think he’s going to pick today to attack?”

“Well, it might not be today,” Stiles admits. “Soon, though. This I promise. And I’m not just making stuff up, Y/N. He’s been acting differently. He even talked to me about it.”

You arch a brow. “You let Theo get close enough to talk?”

“Not willingly, but he wouldn’t leave me alone until I did,” Stiles grumbles.

You have to bite back a laugh. You can picture exactly how that conversation went– Stiles doggedly avoiding Theo as long as he could, Theo just a few paces behind until Stiles gave in and let him speak. Stiles hates Theo’s guts, which is understandable, considering Theo tried to murder his best friend, so whatever Theo had to say must have been important to risk Stiles’ wrath.

Now that you’re finally listening, though, Stiles is holding back the crucial information. He really is so dramatic when he wants to be, isn’t he?

You wave your hand irritably. “Alright, then. Get on with it. What did he say?”

Stiles huffs out a breath at getting rushed like this, but his face turns serious soon enough. “Well, that’s the thing. He wasn’t really telling me anything. In fact, the only thing he really did was ask me about you.”

A pause looms between you. You’re no wolf, but you swear you can hear every conversation happening up and down this hall, how the words echo in your head. It’s easier to pick apart everyone else’s idle chatter instead of comprehending what Stiles has just told you.

“He asked about me? That makes no sense. I’m human, Stiles. What would he want with me?”

Stiles swats you on the shoulder. “Hey, as, like, one of the only other humans here, we’ve got to be proud of ourselves. We have value. I don’t know why he asked, though. He didn’t mention pack stuff or anything. He just wanted to know how you were doing, if you were busy after school or something.”

Your eyes widen. “You don’t think he’s trying to kill me after we get out of class or something? What did you tell him?”

“I’m already a step ahead,” Stiles assures you. “I said you were totally busy and we wouldn’t let you near any of his traitorous pack without the rest of us there to keep you safe. He seems kind of put off by that, but he said that he wasn’t trying to kill you.”

“That’s exactly what someone who’s trying to kill me would say,” you point out.

“Tell me about it. I don’t think he’ll try anything today, at least not at school, but be careful, alright? Don’t go anywhere without one of us. I don’t like this.” Stiles says.

You shiver. “I don’t like it either.”

Theo’s attention never ends well. And, when the two of you turn a corner, you glance over your shoulder and see that someone else has taken your spot at your locker. He’s not trying to open it, just leaning against the metal. He raises a hand in greeting when he sees you looking. It’s Theo Raeken, and judging by the proud smile on his face, he knows exactly who you’re talking about.

You can’t focus throughout that class, nor the next. Theo Raeken is dangerous. He played all of you except Stiles like a fiddle the first time he was trying to kill Scott. What’s to stop him from trying to do it again? Or, worse, what’s to stop him from trying to do it to you?

You stop by your locker later that day. You had just managed to put the morning’s incident from your mind, but when you unlock the door to find a note pushed inside, it all comes rushing back. The paper inside carries no threats, but you still feel your blood run cold when you read it.

Meet me outside after the school day ends. T.R.

You show Scott and the others at lunch. None of them like it either. Scott agrees with Stiles in telling you to never go out alone, and certainly not to meet Theo like he asked. This has to be a trap. There’s no way it could be anything else.

You’re perfectly fine with that plan, but, as it turns out, it’s a little easier said than done. You end up staying a little while after class to ask a teacher a few questions about an upcoming exam, and when you emerge into the empty hallway once more, it occurs to you that you forgot to tell anyone that you were staying after. It’s not that any one of the pack would intentionally abandon you, especially not after the shift in Theo’s attention today, but they all would have assumed that someone else was with you, and left it at that.

Now, you’re wandering the school alone, listening to the sound of your footsteps echo off of the walls and wondering if he’s waiting for you somewhere. Your phone is in your hand, ready to text one of your friends to pick you up, but you don’t live far from school. It won’t take that long to get home, not if you hurry. You’re certain you can avoid him if you try.

Glancing around to make sure he’s not lingering by the door, you set out into the sunlight. Your footsteps are quick, hurrying around corners and down the sidewalk, but, as it turns out, not quick enough. Then again, how could you ever think you could outpace him? You’re human. Theo is a chimera. He could sprint down the length of your neighborhood in the time it takes you to blink.

You wait for the inevitable– claws in your throat, perhaps, or a knife in your back, something Theo-like and unavoidable, but he doesn’t kill you. Not yet. Instead, Theo Raeken walks next to you, tilts his head up to the blue afternoon sky, and says, “It’s a nice day out, isn’t it?”

You blink. Of all the ways you expected this encounter to end, talking to Theo about the weather was just about last on your list. “What?”

Theo shrugs. “It’s warm out. I don’t know.”

He still seems nice, which is weird, obviously. To be honest, this abrupt change in his usual demeanor is freaking you out more than if he’d just been his normal, scheming, threatening self. At least then you wouldn’t be waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“What do you want, Theo?” You ask at last. “Are you here to kill me or not?”

Theo glances over at you, looking genuinely surprised. “What are you talking about? I would never kill you. Y/N, I could never hurt you. You know that.”

He’s not entirely wrong. During his attempted toppling of the McCall pack, Scott nearly died, and many of you were injured, but Theo never touched so much as a hair on your head. Truth be told, back when he was still pretending to be good, you liked him a lot. He won you over fast, probably faster than he should have. Still, that was then, and this is now. You’re both on opposite sides of a war, and that sort of gulf cannot be easily crossed by anything. Least of all by you.

“Fine. Are you trying to use me to hurt the pack?”

Theo scoffs. “They’re trying to convince you to see the worst in me. I’m not surprised, to be honest. I’m not here to hurt you, Y/N, not in any way. I’m here because I want to take you on a date.”

You stop walking. This is absurd. You wait for him to start laughing or something, call an end to the joke, but he doesn’t. He just pauses by your side. “What time can I pick you up?” He continues, as if nothing has been said at all.

“Never,” you manage, “We’re not going on a date, Theo.”

He frowns. “Why not? If you’re busy this week, I can wait. It’s fine.”

“No, we can’t reschedule, because it’s not happening. You tried to murder Scott. You’re still trying to take over our pack. Why would I go on a date with you?”

Theo lifts a shoulder. “Because you like me. And don’t try to argue, Y/N, I know you do. You liked me well enough before I started moving forward with my plans.”

This, again, is a little closer to the truth than you’d like to admit. Theo was wonderful before he tried to murder everyone you hold dear. He was charming and funny. He partnered with you in class, he helped you study, he walked home with you after school. He was perfectly lovely until you burst into the Beacon Hills High School library one day to find him standing over Scott’s corpse.

“I might have, but that’s over now, Theo. I can’t love someone who tried to kill my friends. End of story.”

Theo shakes his head, brown hair flying around his eyes, which have taken on a glint almost akin to madness. “That’s the noble thing to do, sure, but you don’t have to be noble. We don’t have to be noble. It’s just you and me, Y/N. We don’t need any of them. Come on, you can’t tell me that you don’t want this.”

He says every word with such certainty that you know he believes it. You understand now why he was able to rally the other chimeras behind him, why even Liam was able to fall for his scheming. Theo is someone you want to believe. Always.

Always, even when you know better. Especially when you know better. You take a subtle step back, then two. “I can’t do this, Theo. Even if I went out with you, I’d be wondering if you were going to stab me in the back the entire time. I can’t trust you.”

His face falls. “But you want this. You want me.”

“I do,” you admit, “but that doesn’t make it right.”

He goes quiet. You wait for him to shout or swear or something like the monster you’ve been hearing so much about, but instead, he just looks towards where you were walking again. “Can I at least walk you home?”

You nod. “You remember where to go?”

“Of course,” he answers simply.

He could just recall where you live because you’re a part of the McCall pack and he needs a target. A second, calmer voice somewhere in the back of your head whispers that maybe, just maybe, it is because of you.

The walk back is quiet, but not terrible. You’re both thinking through a grave number of things. When you finally reach your house, Theo stops and faces you in front of the door. “Just–” he breaks off, then manages to finish it. “Think about it. If I were better, would you think about it?”

You let out a low breath. “Yes, Theo, I would.”

He almost smiles. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Theo,” you whisper back, and watch as he turns and leaves your house once more.

It will be a long time before you can trust him for sure. You have no doubt that he’s got something else up his sleeve. Theo Raeken doesn’t strike you as the kind to give up easily. But then again, that’s why you’re still thinking of him even after he disappears from sight. Maybe, just maybe, Theo will do good on what he asked of you. Maybe, if he was better, he would come back. Until then, you’ll watch, and you’ll wait, and perhaps one day, you’ll be able to say yes after all.

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