#coffee writes slasher fic

[murderousxcoffee]

Dilfs!Billy and Stu x Reader

I'm just saying. Just fucking saying, man.

#coffee writes slasher fic #will i write this? maybe #will the reader be a trans guy if I do? maaaaaybe #scream x reader #scream x you #scream x yn #billy loomis x y/n #poly ghostface #polyghostface x reader

[horanghaejamjam]

Jigsaw - {CS}

↪   Summary: You are the lead detective in an investigation surrounding one of the most infamous killers the city has ever seen. Unfortunately for you, Jigsaw knows you're onto him and has played you like a game at every turn, threatening the case and your status. Your determination to catch him finally gets you a lead, only for you to find yourself tangled in a special trap that he designed just for you. Let the game begin.

↪ Pairings: Jigsaw Killer Choi San x Female Detective Reader

↪   Rating: M 18+

↪   Genre: Non-idol/Slasher/Horror movie au/ Suggestive / Fluff/Friends to enemies to lovers

↪   Word Count: 5.7k

↪ Warnings/Contents: References to classic horror movies, mainly Saw, Silence of the Lambs, and Scream. Mentions of death/murder/being shot (not detailed). Seonghwa and Mingi both make cameos in this story with a few other members being mentioned. Swearing and implied smut (MDNI). San being a teasing little shit, makeout sessions, fondling over clothes.

↪ Side Notes: To the wonderful @pinkywritings hi darling I was your assigned Ghost Writer for the @atinyhalloweenproject. This is my first time writing for San and I had a lot of fun with it so I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it is so late I wanted to have it out by Halloween but due to the sudden weather change we haven't had power. I tried to make it longer to make up for that so hopefully it doesn't feel rushed and was worth the wait!

I honestly may do a part two to this or an expansion later on because I love the idea of Jigsaw San but we'll see.

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“Police officials are seeking any leads in identifying the man known only to the public as the Jigsaw killer. He is believed to be linked in multiple disappearances and murders that have taken place around Seoul for the past three months. The victims were all found in various handmade traps and had a puzzle piece drawn somewhere visible on their body. At this time investigators have no leads and are asking the public for any knowledge they may have on this public threat.” 

The reporter's voice faded to nothing as the volume on the TV was lowered to zero. You groaned softly to yourself as you tossed the remote to the side, running your hands through your hair as you sat forward on your couch. It had been just over a month since you were assigned the Jigsaw murder case, the last detective backing out after the man in question threatened to target his family. The case was quickly transferred over to you, one of the best detectives in your field, but it was very quickly starting to test your patience. 

Whoever this Jigsaw was, he was a clever man. He left no trace, no evidence, nothing that would allow you to track him down. You went through surveillance, interviewed the family and friends of the victims, tried breaking down his traps for any clues, but any lead always led you right back to square one. You had tried to be patient, hoping that eventually he would slip up and give you something, but it was starting to sound like wishful thinking. Even worse, he knew who you were and started calling you out directly. You would find notes addressed to you, pictures, voice messages, all calling you out and taunting you. It was like he was playing some cruel game with you and you had no choice but to play along or risk losing everything. You couldn’t even walk to work anymore without some reporter chasing you down demanding an explanation or any evidence you had in the case. It came to a point where you only went to the office when called, and the rest of your work you did from home. 

Various evidence pictures and case files were thrown across your coffee table, a few rough notes scribbled in between. You had been looking at the same files for the past couple of hours, dissecting every last word to see if you had missed any connections. Your last victim had been found 72 hours ago, and you knew you only had a day at most before the next one. There were a few things you had discovered about Jigsaw, and the main one was that he worked on a schedule. Once someone was reported missing, it would be three days before their body turned up and the cycle would start again. Whoever this man was, he clearly enjoyed his patterns, and that is what you found yourself looking for, any pattern you may have missed. 

“Working from home again I see?” you practically jumped out of your skin as you heard the deep voice of your roommate behind you, turning around to see his tall frame leaning over the couch. 

“For Fucks sake Mingi you almost gave me a heart attack!” you whined, reaching up to lightly smack at him, “what are you doing here anyways I thought you weren’t coming home tonight.” You and Mingi had been friends for as long as you could remember, having met back in high school and staying together through college and your time at the police academy. He was like a brother to you at this point and you trusted him so you didn’t mind if he saw your work, even if he technically wasn’t supposed to. Mingi always found your work to be fascinating and would bug you randomly about cases, which only grew more when you started investigating Jigsaw, though you assumed it was just because you got to bring your work home now. Just as you predicted, he made his way to the other side of the couch and took a seat next to you, picking up one of the crime scene photos to get a better look. 

“I was going to stay at Yunhos tonight but something came up and he had to cancel,” Mingi explained, running his thumb over the picture he was holding, “ouch this looks like it would have been painful, what is it?”

“That’s one of Jigsaw's latest traps,” you answered, snatching the photo away from him, “I’m looking through it to see if I can find any missing clues.” 

“Have you found anything?”

“Sadly no, he’s very good at covering his tracks. It’s been a month and we still don’t have any leads on this guy, it’s like he’s a ghost or something.” Mingi hummed softly as he continued to look through all the pictures, careful not to mess them up knowing you would yell at him if he did. 

“Now I’m no expert but, are you sure you’re only looking for one person?” he asked, catching you off guard. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean all these crime scenes you’ve shown me have been pretty big and this says it only took three days, seems like a lot of work for one person if you ask me.” Mingi explained, “and that’s why your patterns wouldn’t line up like you want them to.” You blinked up at him dumbly for a moment as you processed his words, looking back down at the file you had basically memorized by this point. You didn’t want to admit it, but Mingi had a point. 

“You know that’s actually not a bad idea,” you muttered. 

“I can be helpful sometimes you know,” he bragged with a laugh, earning himself a punch to the shoulder. He didn’t have time to retaliate though as you were packing up all of your things and rushing towards the door, “Wait where are you going?”

“I need to check on something, don’t wait up for me!” you called back, pulling on your coat and running out the door as he called after you. In your rush you hadn’t realized that you dropped part of your case file on your way out, nor did you notice Mingi pulling out his phone to call someone as he closed the door to your apartment.

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You made it to the crime scene in no time, an abandoned warehouse located just on the edge of the city. You parked your car a bit away and pulled out a flashlight as you made your way inside, ducking under the caution tape and pulling your jacket closer to yourself as you looked around. The clean up crew had gotten most of the scene cleaned by now, but the trap itself was still there. A weirdly broken mess of chains and blades that you wouldn’t have been able to put back together if you wanted to, making you wonder how Jigsaw even came up with the idea in the first place. You shook the thought out of your head and made your way to one of the blades, leaning down to inspect it carefully. It was sharp with a curve to it, but almost messy in design as if it was handmade. To test that theory you took a look at another one and noticed the same thing except this one was thicker and less curved despite being set up the same way. The chains themselves were also a bit sloppy when you looked at them closely, almost as if they had been done in a rush. It wasn’t as clean as Jigsaw's normal work, and now Mingis suggestion that you were dealing with more than one culprit seemed more plausible. 

You took your phone out to snap a picture just as the door to the warehouse opened, a new light pouring in and a familiar voice calling your name. 

“Over here!” you called back, flashing your light in his direction so he could see you. Quick footsteps made their way towards you before a familiar figure came into view. Park Seonghwa, a senior detective that had transferred over to your department a little over a year ago and assigned as your partner. You had been against the idea at first since your original partner had been killed only a few weeks prior during an investigation gone wrong. The chief had insisted it would be for the best though since you needed the help and Seonghwas cool and more collected nature would balance you out nicely which would prove to be true. Your impulsiveness had driven the older detective crazy a few times, but for the most part the two of you got along well and you could even consider him a friend. He was wearing a long black coat and matching gloves and his hair was long and falling into his face rather than slicked up like normal, probably because he had been at home resting when you called him. 

“Would you care to explain why you called me out here in the middle of the night when I haven’t heard from you in the last 48 hours?” Seonghwa questioned, unable to hide the annoyance in his tone. 

“I’ll make it up to you but I figured this couldn’t wait,” you muttered, going back to inspect the chain again, “I’m trying to prove a theory about something.” 

“That theory being?”

“What if Jigsaw isn't working alone?” you challenged, “what if it’s more than one person, that would explain why nothing lines up.” Seonghwas eyes widened a bit and you could have sworn you heard him mutter something under his breath, “what did you say?” 

“Oh nothing,” he brushed you off, “what made you so convinced of this new theory? Did you find something?” You froze for a second, not wanting to expose yourself for letting a member of the general public view the case file. 

“Just a hunch,” you lied, “but I mean look at the way this trap was built, it's messy compared to the others, almost as if it was made by someone else.”

“Or maybe Jigsaw just ran out of time and rushed on it,” he argued. 

“Can you just humor me for five seconds Seonghwa,” you groaned, “maybe I’m wrong yes but isn’t it at least worth looking into?” Seonghwa rolled his eyes but gave in, walking to the other side of the trap to get a better look. You were too distracted by your own work to pay much attention to him, meticulously looking through every detail of the trap despite not actually knowing what you were looking for. Your instinct was telling you that there was something there you were overlooking, something that was hiding in plain sight, you just had to figure out what that was. 

“Hey Y/N,” Seonghwa called out after a few minutes, “I think I found something.” Your head shot up and you quickly dusted yourself off before making your way over. Seonghwa was standing in the corner of the warehouse holding what looked to be a tape recorder. “I found it tucked away over here, may have gotten knocked around during the investigation,” he explained. 

“Does it say anything?” you asked, taking the recorder from his hands and pressing the play button. There was only static for a moment before a robotic voice spoke up, like someone was speaking through a voice changer. Despite that, you couldn’t help but feel like the voice seemed familiar to you, but it was hard to tell through the editing. 

“Hello Detective Y/L/N,” the tape addressed you, sending a chill through your body, “these past few weeks you have been running around in circles trying to discover who I am. You have been closer to the truth than you realize but you always end up blindsided by your work and, as a result, you overlook the answer that is right in front of you. I have enjoyed silently watching you up until this point but now it is getting quite boring so why don’t we make this a bit more fun? Do you like games, detective? I hope you do because I want to play a game with you. I have left a riddle for you, the answer to which will tell you all you need to know about who I am and what I do. You have 48 hours to find the riddle and tell me the answer or you will find yourself and those closest to you in a very undesirable situation. The timer starts the second this recording ends, let’s hope you are as clever as everyone says you are. Let the game begin.” 

  You felt your blood run cold as the tape came to an end, barely registering Seonghwas hand on your shoulder as you tried to process everything you just heard. Seonghwa tried talking to you but you ignored him, pushing his hand off and rushing back to your car, your partner not far behind you. 

“Where are you going? We should report this to the office first!” he called after you. 

“What good is reporting it going to do? You heard him Hwa I have 48 hours to figure out who this guy is or we’re all screwed, I can’t waste time.”

“So what you’re going to rush into something and get yourself killed?” he argued. 

“Better than doing nothing and getting everyone else killed,” you snapped back, “now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find this riddle he’s talking about.” Seonghwa called after you again but by this point you had gotten in your car and were already making your way back to your apartment. Part of you felt like going home was a bad idea, but you also couldn’t help but feel like something was pulling you to go there. The same feeling of familiarity that you got hearing the tape returned, making you feel more and more uneasy as you pulled into your apartment complex. Like you knew who Jigsaw was and yet the image of his face was blurred any time you tried to imagine him.

Mingi didn’t seem to be home when you got back, his shoes were gone and the light was off. You couldn’t focus on that though, as your attention was drawn to the stack of papers placed neatly on your coffee table. You carefully walked over and looked through the pile, recognizing pictures from all the different crime scenes you had investigated so far, each one marked with red ink. 

‘Y/N, doesn’t this random pattern seem a bit too random?’

‘This is quite close to home don’t you think?’

‘The truth has been in front of you the whole time.’

‘Why do I do what I do?’

‘Did you miss me?’

You ran your hand through your hair as you continued looking through the pictures, realizing that the riddle was basically going to send you on a scavenger hunt. It would take forever for you to go back through each crime scene and look back through everything to find out what he was talking about. Even worse, it was pretty late and you could feel exhaustion slowly taking over you, slouching over the coffee table and eventually laying against it as you fell asleep trying to decipher the riddle. 

You were jolted awake by the sound of your phone vibrating, groaning softly as you sat up and reached into your pocket for the device. You half expected it to be a call from Mingi or Seonghwa, but instead you were greeted with the same robotic voice from the night before. Only this time, you were able to hear his actual voice a bit more and it was one you swore you had heard before. 

“Good morning Sleeping Beauty, I hope my riddle didn’t keep you up all night,” the voice immediately woke you up, straightening your posture as you looked around. 

“Who is this?” you asked. 

“Aww I’m almost offended you don’t remember me, we go way back you know,” the voice responded, “I’ve missed you Y/N, and even if you don’t remember me now I know you miss me too.” You paused for a moment at his words before realizing now was not the time to worry about that. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

“That. my dear detective is for you to find out, you always did enjoy the thrill of a good challenge didn’t you? I figured you would have solved my puzzle by now but since I believe in giving people a fair chance I’ll give you another clue. One of those puzzle pieces doesn’t quite belong, once you find the answer I will be waiting for you in the place we last met, don’t keep me waiting Doll.” With that the call ended, causing you to groan in frustration and toss your phone to the side. 

“I’ve had about enough of these damn games,” you huffed, rubbing your hands over your eyes. You looked through the pictures again before one in particular caught your eye. It wasn’t one of the Jigsaw crime scenes, but instead it was a picture of an older house, one that you recognized from your last murder investigation with your old partner, San. The memories slowly came back to you and that’s when it finally clicked for you, the puzzle and the reason the voice sounded so familiar to you. That was impossible though, San was dead, you had been at the hospital with him when the doctors told you there was nothing they could do. There was no way that San was still alive, and yet you would recognize his voice anywhere. Shaking your head, you grabbed your phone and stood up, calling Seonghwa and telling him to meet you at the house in question as you left your apartment and got in your car. The whole ride there you tried ignoring the feeling of dread that came over you, hoping that your intuition was wrong. 

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Seonghwa was already at the house before you got there, leaning against the wall with a blank expression. “I take it you found the answer to your riddle?” he asked as you walked past him, leading him inside. 

“As much as I hope I am wrong I think I did,” you confessed, “and if I’m right the clue we are looking for should be here somewhere.” Seonghwa stood still in the middle of the room as you frantically looked around, digging through his pocket and following your movements with his eyes. 

“This isn’t one of the crime scenes,” he pointed out, “what exactly are we looking for?”

“Jigsaw said to find him at the place we last met and this place was the only one pictured that wasn’t one of the crime scenes,” you explained. Seonghwa hummed softly at your answer, but you ignored him as you continued looking around. 

“Why here then, what’s so special about this place?” you froze for a moment at the question, an action that didn’t go unnoticed. 

“This was the last place I investigated with my first partner,” you answered, “he was shot during the investigation and I thought he was dead but I’m starting to think I was wrong.” 

“You think it’s him,” Seonghwa stated rather than asked, to which you nodded. 

“I don’t know why he would do such a thing, but it all lines up.” Seonghwa sighed and glanced down at his watch before making his way towards you. 

“I’m surprised you know, you solved the riddle faster than we thought you would, we’re a bit ahead of schedule.” His words made your blood run cold, freezing as your head turned to look at him. 

“What did you just say?”

“I’m sorry about this Y/N,” Seonghwa apologized, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a syringe, “just know I don’t make the rules, I’m just the delivery guy.” Before you could react to his words he had grabbed you and injected you with what you assumed was some kind of anesthesia, your body going limp in his hold almost immediately and your vision going black. The last thing you remember hearing was his voice and footsteps approaching before you completely lost consciousness. 

When you returned to consciousness the first thing that you noticed was that you couldn’t move. Your arms and legs were handcuffed to a chair that also appeared to be bolted to the floor so you couldn’t tip it over. Tugging at your restraints, you glanced around to find that you were in some sort of workshop, various trap parts and gadgets tossed around multiple workbenches. At the front of the room were what appeared to be security monitors, each watching different parts of the city that you could just barely make out. 

“I have to hand it to you Y/N,” a voice said from behind you, “the last detective didn’t make it nearly as far.” The sound of footsteps echoed through the room before a figure appeared in your vision, wearing a full body red and black hood. Even though his face was covered by the hood, you could feel the presence of your former partner.

“How, I thought you were dead,” you whispered, not sure what to feel at the moment. In any other circumstance you would be over the moon to know he was alive, but how were you supposed to feel knowing he was the serial killer you had been anxiously tracking down. Shock, betrayal, anger, sadness, confusion, all of these emotions swirled through your brain like an endless whirlpool, pulling you in deeper and nearly bringing tears to your eyes. 

“Everyone did,” San replied, turning away from you to face one of his work benches, “the doctors said it was a miracle, that no one thought I would make it through the night let alone make a full recovery.” You could hear him messing with something, but couldn’t see what it was, struggling to look past his shoulder as he continued talking, “I tried to find you after you know? I thought you were the only one left that cared about me, and yet even you managed to turn your back on me.” 

“I always cared about you,” you argued, “that’s why I’m trying to understand why San, why did you do this?” It was at this point that he finally turned to face you, pulling the hood back so you could see him properly. He looked almost the same as you remembered, but there was a cold gaze in his eyes that almost made him feel like a stranger. This wasn’t the warm hearted and cheerful person you used to consider a friend, he was a killer. Despite this, however, you couldn’t help yourself from falling for his familiarity, almost as if you could convince yourself the old San was still in there, somewhere. 

“You never realize just how valuable life is until you are inches away from death,” he explained, “the adrenaline and the fight to survive, it almost feels like you are being reborn. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how corrupt the world we live in truly is, because no one really knows how to appreciate the life they are given until it is nearly taken from them. You may not understand it now but trust me my methods will help make the world a better place.”

“You’re killing people because you want them to appreciate life?” you questioned, wondering if he was actually being serious. There was no way a person's mind could be that twisted, right? 

“You think I’m a killer?” San asked, not needing a verbal response since your glare was enough confirmation, “that’s where you’re wrong you know. I have not killed anyone, all of my games are survivable as long as the player has the will to fight for it. Those who failed the games basically killed themselves.” You wanted to argue that putting people in these death traps still made him a killer but he cut you off, “Seven people have won so far, seven people who had that will to live and had the chance to be reborn. They understand what it truly means to be alive and now they help me spread my message. You may not understand me now, but I really do hope that you will be the next.” 

“So what, am I the next person that gets to be put in one of your death traps then?” you groaned, tugging at your restraints. San pouted a bit but shook his head. 

“Your game began the minute you took the case from Detective Kim,” he explained, “you and I always seemed to have an understanding so I had hoped you would pick up on my clues and join without a fight, but you were far too stubborn to listen. Eventually I had to cut my losses so I had my apprentices plant fake evidence to finally get you here, it was the only way.” Your heart dropped a bit at the word apprentices, your mind immediately going back to Seonghwa and how he was the one who brought you here. 

“So you’re telling me the whole time,” you trailed off. 

“Seonghwa was working for me, yes, Mingi as well, they both survived my games and agreed to help with the cause and when you took over my case I knew I could use them to guide you in the right direction,” San explained. He took a moment to glance at a clock on the wall before sighing and making his way over to you. San rested his hands on the arms of the chair and used them to prop himself up so he was leaning over you, “As much as I have enjoyed our little chat I’m afraid we do not have much time. I really do like you Y/N so I will give you a choice. Join me and together we can help change the world for the better.”

“And if I refuse?” you challenged. 

“Well then I guess we’ll have to play a game,” he hummed, leaning away from you, “The second I walk out of this room it will lock and a timer will start. Behind you are two doors, each with a different combination, one door will lead you to the exit, and the other will lead you to me. If you choose to leave then you will be free but you will lose your chance to catch me. If you choose to come after me, then you have a chance to learn the truth at the risk of your freedom. The combinations are hidden in this room and you will have exactly one hour to find them and leave through the door of your choosing, and trust me you don’t want to know what will happen if you run out of time.” San chuckled softly before pulling away and walking behind you, “This is your last chance to accept my offer Y/N, I would hate to lose you like this.” He waited for a moment but when you didn’t respond he sighed, “Very well, let the game begin.” You felt him place something into your hand, which you quickly realized was a key, before the door slammed shut and San was gone. 

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It didn’t take you long to unlock yourself, taking a second to rub your wrists as you stood up and made your way cautiously around the room. You did your best to stay calm and not look at the clock as you examined the doors and then looked around for the combinations, which you quickly realized were hidden on his tools. The question was, do you free yourself and turn your back on the case, or do you risk it all and try to go after San. The rational part of your brain was screaming at you to just get out of there and not look back, and yet you quickly found yourself moving on autopilot. Before you could really process what you were doing, you had entered the code for the door labeled “Truth” and ran through it, stepping into a dark hallway and letting the door lock behind you. 

You took a moment to compose yourself before heading forward, placing your hands against the walls to help feel your way through the space. All the doors were locked until you came to one at the very end that was cracked open, revealing what looked to be a makeshift office space, with nothing but a desk and filing cabinet in the room. You poked your head through first, looking around for any sign of life before slowly stepping inside and making your way to the desk, only to gasp as you felt another body pin you to it. 

“I knew you would come after me,” San whispered, spinning you around so that you were facing him. Your body was pressed between his and the desk, his arms caging you on either side as your eyes locked. 

“I can’t let you get away with this,” you argued, trying to wiggle away from him but San was stronger so he held you in place. 

“Come on Doll, you and I both know that’s not why you came after me,” he teased, “maybe it was at first but if that was the case now you would be fighting me harder.” He was right, even if he was stronger you knew you could at least hold your own enough to get him away or subdue him long enough to call for help. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to actually fight him off, struggling against him enough to save your pride but not enough to actually push him off. “So tell me,” San continued, “why did you really come after me, was it because you were curious about my work? Or, was it because deep down you missed me?” Honestly, you weren’t even sure if you knew the answer, your body having reacted before your mind could catch up. 

“This isn’t right,” you argued, reaching your hands up to push at his shoulders. 

“And yet here we are,” he teased, backing up enough to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer to him. Your bodies pressed together and your arms instinctually made their way around his neck which made him chuckle. “I always knew you were special, you understood me in a way that no one else ever did. Stay with me, nothing will be able to come between us.” San leaned down until your lips were centimeters apart, his breath tickling your lips with every word. You tried not to give into him, knowing that this was wrong, but you also couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you just from being near him. You had always cared for San when you two were partners, hell there was even a time where you could argue that you did have a crush on him. That was back then however, when he was the sweet and easy going detective that decorated his desk with mini plushies and would whine if you forgot to get him a pastry on your morning coffee runs. This version of San wasn’t like that, even if the allure was still there, he was cold, twisted, and a killer. 

“I can’t do this,” you argued, “you’re not the man I once cared about.” You tried to turn your head away from him, but he gripped your chin to force you to look at him. 

“Yes I am, behind all of this it is still me and I can prove that to you,” he whispered, “just let me show you.” When you shook your head again he huffed, loosening his grip for a moment before it tightened again, “Fine then, how about another game?” 

“I already won your stupid game though!” you challenged. 

“Yet you still haven’t learned,” he fought back, “the least you can do is give me a chance to convince you. If you don’t give in then I will go with you to the station and turn myself in, but if I win then you quit being a detective for good and you stay with me.” You gave him a questioning look, at this point more than positive that he had gone insane. However, if playing his dumb games meant putting an end to Jigsaw, then you were more than willing to oblige. 

“Alright fine, deal,” you reluctantly agreed. You only had a moment to register Sans smirk before he was pulling you against him again and connecting your lips. One hand stayed pressed against your back to keep you against him, while the other tangled itself in your hair, tugging slightly to get a reaction out of you. The kiss wasn’t rough or forced like you had expected, instead it was gentle and passionate, like he wanted to take his time with you. His lips were surprisingly soft against yours, and you began to slowly melt against his movements. You kissed him back and allowed him to have more control, whining softly against his lips when he tugged a bit harder at your hair. Your own hands trailed down his body, tracing his shoulders and chest for a few moments before daring to go a bit lower. San groaned as he felt you palm him over his robe, tightening his grip on your hair and deepening the kiss as his own hand reached down to grab at your thighs and your ass. 

All your resolve melted away at his touch and you found yourself giving into him completely, relishing in the way he invaded your senses. All rationality had left completely, replaced with an unusual desire as San explored your body. As desperate as he was, his touches remained soft and left you craving more whenever he pulled his hand away. San walked you back until you reached the desk, lifting you up enough to sit you on top of it and slotting himself between your thighs as he finally pulled away. You only had a second to catch your breath before you were pushed back slightly and pinned down by your hands. San hovered above you with a knowing smirk, taking a moment to enjoy your flustered expression before leaning down to whisper directly in your ear. 

“Looks like I won. Game Over!” 

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Rigor Mortis (prologue)

College roommate Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 1

summary: Relationships end. People die. You move on, and Miguel does too.  (roommate! Miguel O'Hara x reader, college-ish au). 

warnings: no warnings, just angsty asf

a/n: this is the culmination of lots and lots of planning and me writing non-stop for a good few weeks. the next part will be much longer, and updates will be wednesdays until further notice. thank you for all your support! If you'd like to be tagged, see this post.

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys :D

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wc: 1.1k

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

rigor mortis,

You're sitting at a diner, the one on 57th. At almost 11pm, it's… quiet. The gentle bustle of a waitress behind the counter, coffee mugs and sizzling pans. To your side, a little old woman tucked into the booth. Bright red lipstick and bold eyeliner against tan skin, wrists heavy with bangles against the counter. It's animated: feather boa, green leather jacket - and you think you spy the padding of some slippers from underneath the table. She clinks and clanks, and it makes you smile in spite of yourself. Peeling walls, cramped booths. Warm. Steady. Pam's Diner, on the corner, but you've got to use the side entrance, 'cuz the front's been bolted shut since the 50s. Don't ask questions.

"Mags, honey… I just want to… can you get your mom for me?" She's squinting into her phone now, nose pressed to the screen. You can only imagine the view from there; a facetime call with a smudge of eyebrow taking up most of the little box. 

It's odd, but you like to sit near the door. Some pancakes, a milkshake, or a bitter cup of coffee now that you're older: people watching, as you've always called it. Okay, maybe it's more than odd . Maybe even serial killer adjacent - people-watching, like the night stalkers in cheesy slashers. But it's fun, looking for a story in everyone that walks in. 

In your hometown, you had your first date in a booth just like this one. Back pressed against once-bright cushions, tight skirt digging into your back, and at 15 you had sat and waited with wide eyes. Waited, and watched. The woman with a blue hair-tie at the counter: a new mom, definitely. She looks tired, a mystery stain on the cotton of her joggers and deep rims around her eyes. A jitter in her hands, and she's probably got a piece of shit boyfriend on the couch; wringing his hands at looking after the little one, at being a fucking dad, for once, and… oh. The bell of the front entrance rings, and another woman walks in, and catches the eye of Blue Hair Tie. A warm smile, a tight arm around her waist. You watch as she takes up the other's jittery hand in her own. Partner? Fling? You know now; it doesn't matter, not really. Hands still, the shaking slows, and they are loved. 

Your date had been late, of course. But  what had been your first in a line of disappointing men is long forgotten in the haze of adulthood. 

"I know, sweetheart-" the older woman in the booth next to you almost shouts, making you jump. "...those are very pretty shoes… but, could you… Hand the phone over to mom, okay?“

Someone answers with cooing and soft babbling, and then there's raspy laughter from the woman near you. It rings off the tiles: sonorous and full-bodied, wraps around you like a warm hug. It makes you feel a little less lonely, for now. 

As of exactly 9.42pm, you are single. A four year relationship, over in the space of less than 20 minutes. A cup of watery decaf, and it's all over before you can finish it. I'll stay at my sister's, and you move out by the end of the month. No theatrics, not a trace of tears. You had wanted to cry, to kick and scream and beg, but more than anything, you were numb. Crystalline and still with shock, at how clinical it all felt. Sitting in your favourite diner, the humdrum of the city just past the glass; it still felt… lonely. And when he left; placed money on the counter, took his copy of keys off the table, and didn't look back ; it was cold. 

You remember what he had said so many nights ago, God, years back, when he was studying for undergrad, and would crack open anatomy textbooks on the little desk in your dorm. He'd trace the lines of your arm, poke the flesh as you'd giggle and recite his notes into your skin. 

that… tickles! what are y-you… ohh my God-

Stay still! This is.. important… 

… I swear, I'll start screaming if you-

Pallidity, cooling, stiffness-

that's it, I'm screaming… I'm gonna do it-

It's not gonna learn itself, baby. Pallor, algor… 

and rigor, right? 

… 

I listen. Sometimes. 

…rigor, livor mortis and decay. The stages of death. 

I thought you wanted to be a surgeon, baby, not the grim reaper. 

Very funny. It's still important to know about these things, no? 

I guess? But if you're gonna be saving lives…

That's not how it works. I'm not God. I make mistakes, people die. I do everything right-

People die. 

Right. Above all, I'm in the business of people. Whilst they're alive and when they're gone, what they leave behind…

…but that's not really your job, is it? And don't give me all that, it's a vocation crap-

I don't know what to tell you. It is. It's bigger than me. 

…it's long and hard and killing you slowly. 

…

Shit. Jamie, I didn't mean to-

Rigor mortis. Post-mortem 'stiffness' or rigidity, which occurs one to two hours after death.

I'm sorry, I wasn't th- 

The summation of unraveling: a temporary stasis, which could be described as 'frozen' in time or place, often mirroring the cause of death- 

Jesus, I'm not trying to fight- 

..where a body becomes a dead body. Colloquially, referred to as Alius Mortem, or; another death. 

The phrase stuck, acting as a cruel count for the eventual decay of your relationship. Resentment, on both ends, had burned out that flame long before the breakup. Jamie was cruel, in some ways. You were cruel in others. 

"Alice! Just wanted to say hi, cupcake; missed your voice… oh yeah… mhmm… she's just like you, can talk for the trees…" With the rasp of laughter in the booth next to you, it spreads the kind of warmth that stings. 

There's a spark of self awareness at the back of your throat; the bitter taste of realisation. It's not meant to feel like this, is it? The end of almost a half-decade of your life, an era, the culmination of decisions good and bad and gray that have led you up to this moment. There should be… passion. Fighting, maybe. Tears. Instead of a supernova, you find yourself floating in the empty vacuum of space: an acrid taste left in your mouth. 

"Oh God, have you and the girls been eating well? Let me come over tomorrow, drop you off some stuff…I don't trust half the crap in that cupboard of yours-" There is love and light in her voice, despite groans from the tinny speakers of her phone. Your chest is hot; something leaden and heavy that sits in the crook of ribcage. Bittersweet, like rotting fruit in the cradle of a tree trunk. 

Maybe it's the coffee. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be. Over the past few years, a thousand cuts. And now, in the yellow lights of the little diner on the corner of 57th; another death. 

_

_

_

Rigor Mortis Taglist: @bunnyrose01 @lavenderslemonade @tsukkie-daisuke @malxoxo @thekidscallmebosss @vvitcxen @theyoutubedork @doublevirgogirl @jnghs @taleiak @noblesavagex @cumikering @rebeccawinters @evanpetersrightbigtoe @saucypeanuttt @pix-stuff @maliarenee @truthuntolddd @honeycovered-bandaids @aiyaaayei @aeeliy @amplsblog @sikrettt @opuffmango @spear-bitch @maddielikesmoths @lemonpepsi @sweet-strawberryhoney @lacedinweb22 @bubbsby @jing5uan @ellaandorersoct @hibarbiesblog @valentxi @kittym1ka @delulu-dia @melovetitties @yohoe-hoe @acollectionofcells1 @froggi-mushroom @thund3rthighs

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#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #angst #eventual smut #kat_writes😼

[hellsburners]

burning red

summary: you swear you wouldn't fuck on a window. pairing: tasm!peter parker x male!reader word count: 1.1k warnings: 18+ warning, roomate!peter, violence mentioned (a movie they watch), alcohol, blowjobs, gay sex, top!peter, rimming, anal sex, slight angst?, fuck buddies, window sex, semi-public sex a/n: omg mike finally writes a fic above 1k words act shocked!

masterlist | more peter parker

Two broke New Yorkers, that’s what you two were. Your roommate Peter worked selling pictures to an online news outlet called The Daily Bugle, while you wait tables at an Asian restaurant. It was late at night and you two just got home from work, Peter brought home cold beer while you got free leftovers from the restaurant. 

He was sitting on your small worn-out couch watching a shitty slasher movie on your laptop. You were in the kitchen waiting for the noodles to finish heating in the microwave. At this point, it was a ritual for you two, watching movies while eating amazing cheap food. The food finished heating and you put them in two bowls, aromatic steam filled the room. 

“What happened?” you asked while bringing the food down on the coffee table. Peter was sipping on the amber-colored bottle. 

“These two dudes were fucking in their apartment window until the killer found them, and now it’s the dad giving a speech at the high school,” he said taking the bowl of noodles. 

“If I ever had the chance to get laid I wouldn’t do where other people could see,” you muttered. You take the bowl of food and slurp on the savory dish. Peter side-eyed you in confusion. You look at him and laugh. “Why? You’d get laid in public?”

“I mean, if I had to,” he shrugged his shoulders. “Plus, you’re here all the time. How am I supposed to get some privacy.”

“Oh, I bet you do, Mr. I-fucked-blackcat-at-a-rooftop,” you were fully immersed in the banter, you could see someone getting brutally stabbed in the movie through your peripheral. He laughs at your comment. You knew Peter’s side job, he would talk to you about his experiences all the time. 

“And you would do it too!” 

“Yeah, Black Cat is so hot I’d fuck them too.” he laughs at your retort. 

“I mean I wouldn’t mind doing you in that window either,” Peter muttered, eyeing the small window in your living room. Your brows furrowed while you side-eyed him. He took another sip of his beer, he gave you a flirtatious wink. Your cheeks warmed, from the alcohol, from Peter, you couldn’t pinpoint. 

“You’re fucking drunk, Pete,” you said bringing your finished bowl to the table. 

“I had one bottle, I’m not,” he rests his head on your shoulder. “You wouldn’t do me?” 

Little did this little shit know that you’ve had the biggest crush on this man ever since he tutored you on biochemistry in college. You could feel his soft brown hair on your cheek, the way he smells like the ocean in the morning, or waking up to a drizzling rain. Your heart races.

“You shouldn’t be joking around like that you asshole,” you took a big gulp of the beer, trying to hide your shaking voice. “I’m not looking for anything serious anyway.”

“I’m not,” he whispered, there was a seriousness in his tone. “Who says it should be serious? We’re just two guys getting it on.”

There was a sting in your chest. Nothing serious. You moved your shoulder signaling for Peter to get off. You catch him staring at you, his face growing stubble from being overworked. A few seconds pass of you two just staring at each other. He takes his hand to your warm cheeks.

“You’re so red right now, it’s adorable,” you close your eyes and suck all the air around you. “Can I kiss you? As friends of course.”

You nod, slowly coming closer to his face. Your lips touch, his were soft and warm, the stubble pricking your skin. You run your hands through his hair as the kiss deepens. Your tongue meets his, making you feverish. You gently pull him with you as you lay down on the couch. Peter takes his cardigan off while you loosen your drawstring shorts. You pull his shirt off, tracing your hands on his chest down to his abs. 

“Just two guys getting on,” you whisper. He starts to go down on you, swallowing your head. Your head extends from the pleasure, eyes closed, teeth biting your lip trying to stifle a moan. You tug on his hair, he moans with your sex muffling his sounds. 

He releases your cock with a pop. He stands up from the couch and reaches a hand to you. “Come with me, let me show you something.”

While holding your waist, he guides you to your apartment window. He puts both of your arms on the windowsill, arching your back. He kneels and eats you out, his tongue licking your hole, you went in to cover your mouth to hide your noises. Peter asks you to take them off and how it made him so hard to hear you moan. He fingers you with such preciseness he finds your sensitive areas with ease. 

 Peter unbuckles his jeans and pulls them down with his underwear. You turn around to look at him under the moonlight. A tall man, with lean muscle all over, a faint trail of brown hair leading to his crotch. There you saw his erect cock, it was long and a perfect girth. He strokes it, pre-cum coming off the tip.

A few moments later, you feel him insert his cock lubed and the condom placed. He takes you from the back, leaving messy kisses on your nape. You both moan from fucking each other, Peter knew how to sync your rhythms producing the filthiest whimpers from you. He takes your cock, pumping it as he fucks you. 

“Peter,” your words slurred at this point. “Can we do this again sometime?”

“Of course, fuck, you’re so tight,” he wraps his long arms around your whole body, hugging you while he ruts into you. “Shit, we should've done this years ago.” 

“I’m so close,” you moaned, your cock dripping so much pre. 

“Me too,” Peter curses. He pulls out, you almost curse at him for fucking with you like this when you’re close. He takes you and lifts you to sit on the windowsill. He takes your kegs at his sides to finish you off. He takes you in his arms, fucking you feverishly. You swore people could’ve heard you but you didn’t care, you were fucking the prettiest boy in your life. 

His thrusts become erratic. You sloppily make out as he fucks you. You both moan in each other's mouths as you cum. He takes you down the windowsill to kiss you more. 

“I could’ve fallen from the window,” you said, catching your breath. He laughs, carrying you to the couch. 

You sat on the couch wearing his shirt, he placed his cardigan on his lap while your legs rested in them. You both were gulping some cold water. 

“So, tomorrow?” he said. You nod, bringing your cups to a toast. 

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

#peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x male reader smut #the amazing spiderman #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x male reader #tasm!peter parker x male reader smut

[hoe-for-hopper]

Forget About Eddie

Bestfriend!SteveHarrington x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: mentions of Eddie being a fuckboy, a lil fluff and a lil smut.

Word Count: 2247

Summary: You and Eddie have just broken up, but you're still hung up on him. Steve hates seeing you so down and just wants to make you feel better (better than Eddie could).

A/N: idk i'm on a smut writing spree, expect some more fics tomorrow (maybe some eddie, maybe some slashers, who really knows). i hardly edited this and i feel like the ending might be a lil rushed, but hey, smut is smut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SMUT BELOW THE CUT~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I just don’t really know what to do, you know?” You and your best friend, Steve Harrington are walking to his car after your shift at Scoops. You’ve been upset all night over a fight you had with your ex-boyfriend, Eddie. 

You and Eddie had been broken up for a couple of months now, but you were still sneaking over to his trailer in the middle of the night. You couldn’t help it, you were young, horny, and Eddie was pretty good in bed. It was easy enough, until you had to get dressed and do the walk of shame across the trailer park. You know keeping this up wasn’t a smart idea, but a part of you also still loved Eddie. Even if you knew that he was just using you to get what he wanted.

“I don’t know why you’re still so hung up on that loser. You’ve always been too good for him and he didn’t deserve you.” Steve says as he unlocks the car doors and slides into the driver’s seat. He looks over at you and seeing your sad face says, “Alright, we’re going back to my place and having a movie night. I’ll call Robin and see if she’ll come over. You need to have some fun.”

You almost protest, but that does sound like it’ll get your mind off things. And if you’re at Steve’s  you won’t be as tempted to go to Eddie’s.

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

“Well Robin can’t come over. She’s got a date or something. So I guess it’s just you and me.” He says as he places a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table in front of you. “What do you wanna watch first? I just got a tape of The Outsiders. Remember that movie?” 

“Yeah that sounds good. Thanks for the popcorn.” You reach for the bowl as Steve sits down next to you.

Throughout the movie you can feel Steve looking over at you until he finally reaches over to slide his arm around your shoulders. “Hey, I know you’re upset, but just try to forget about Eddie and whatever stupid fight you guys have had.”

“I know, Steve, It’s just really hard. I miss him and I can’t seem to stay away. I keep going over whenever he calls like I’m just some booty call and not his ex-girlfriend of TWO YEARS! It’s like that’s all he wanted me for in the first place!” You put your hands over your face and shake your head.

“Wait. You’re still going over there and sleeping with him? Why would you do that? You’re way too good to be waiting around for his phone calls just so he can get off and leave you upset.” Steve pauses the movie and turns toward you. You didn’t mean to tell him all of that, you’d been telling Steve and Robin that you hadn’t seen Eddie since the breakup. You never told them that you two had been secretly fucking every other night.

“Uh… I mean it’s hard, Steve! We were together for a long time, I can’t just stop seeing him!” You reach for the remote to play the movie again, but Steve grabs your wrist to stop you.

As you look up at him he says, “I know. I’m sure it is hard. But he can’t be that great that you’re still doing…that with him.” Steve’s arm tightens around your shoulders. He’s staring down at you with a look you’ve never seen from him before. His right hand moves from your wrist to your cheek as he brushes his thumb down to your chin.

“I mean…I don’t know.” It’s hard for you to get words out. Steve has been your best friend since you guys were kids. But all of a sudden something feels a little bit more with him. The way he’s looking at you and lightly gripping your chin is making you dizzy. You’ve never thought about him in any other way, but now your heart is beginning to flutter.

Steve notices it too, his eyes go to where his hand rests on your chin before looking back into your eyes. He slowly tilts your chin up and leans down to plant a gentle kiss on your lips. 

You kiss him back before he pulls away and says “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that. I think I just got carried away.” He drops his hands, grabs the remote and flips the movie back on.

“It’s… it’s okay.” You can’t think of anything else to say so you sink back into the couch and continue to watch the movie like nothing happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When you get home later that night, you can’t stop replaying that kiss in your head. You’ve never even thought about doing anything like that with Steve. He’s your best friend. You two have practically known each other since you two were in diapers. And besides, he isn’t your type at all. Apparently your type is self obsessed bad boys who break your heart yet still call you up at 1 in the morning. Look where that’s gotten me, you think. Steve is sweet, nice, caring. Everything that Eddie turned out not to be. 

You fall asleep thinking about what would have happened had Steve not come to his senses.

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

Steve has been thinking about the kiss since he dropped you off at your apartment. He’s not sure what came over him at that moment. But he does know that he enjoyed it. He knows that he definitely wanted more. But he also knows that you’re his best friend and you’re still getting over that asshole, Eddie Munson. He doesn’t want to force you into anything else.

But he still can’t see what you see in that guy. He didn’t know Eddie that well. They ran in different circles when they were in high school, but he still didn’t notice anything particularly great about the guy. 

And he was so tired of seeing you heartbroken over it. Steve thought you deserved so much more than Eddie.

Steve knew he could make you feel better than Eddie ever could.

Steve continued to think about that kiss as his hand slipped beneath the fabric of his boxers.

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

Two days go by before you see Steve again. He’s giving you a ride home from Robin’s house after a girls night.

“You know, you really didn’t have to come pick me up. I would’ve been fine walking home.” You say as you meet him outside.

“I know, but Robin’s is on my way home from work.”

Not much is said on the drive to your house. You’re still thinking about the kiss from the other night and you’re not sure if Steve is thinking about it as well. And if he is, you’re not sure what he’s thinking about it. Does he think it was a mistake? Does he want to do it again? You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t realize you’ve pulled up in front of your house until you hear Steve saying “Hellooooo. Did you hear me? I asked if you were okay with me coming in and hanging out for a while?”

“Oh. Um. Absolutely, that’s totally fine.” Both of you got out of the car and walked into your small apartment. “So uh, what did you want to do?” You weren’t sure why you were this nervous. You felt like the dynamic between you and your best friend had completely changed since the other night, yet Steve seemed perfectly normal.

“I was actually just wanting to talk to you. You know, make sure you’re doing okay? After that fight with Eddie?” Steve sat down on your small sofa and kicked his shoes off.

You sat down next to Steve, taking your shoes off as well. “Yeah, actually I’m doing a lot better. He hasn’t called since the fight which helps too. I’ve still thought about calling him though.”

Steve just stares at you. You recognize the look on his face as the same one from the other night. The look right before you kissed you. You’re trying not to get your hopes up that it’ll happen again, but your heart is beating a thousand beats per minute. Finally, he says “Look, I hate seeing you like this. I know you two were together for a long time, but he doesn’t deserve you. He never has. He took you completely for granted.”

You weren’t sure what to say. Steve continued, inching closer to you, “I guess I just don’t see what’s so great about Eddie.” He placed his hand on top of your thigh and slowly inched his other hand along the tops of your shoulder. He said what he’d been thinking about the other night. “I bet I could make you feel better than he ever did.” Steve tilted your head up once again and kissed your lips. Rougher than the first time, but still tender. He didn’t pull away this time. 

You reached up to grab his face in your hands, kissing him with more force. Steve took hold of your hips, pulling you onto his lap before running his hands through your hair. The two of you were holding so tightly onto each other it was almost painful.

You were the first to pull away, gasping for breath. “Are we… is this…” the words died on your lips as you noticed the way Steve was looking at you with lust filled eyes.

“It’s okay. Let me make you feel good. Let me make you forget about him.” Steve lifted you up and sat you down on the couch, pushing your legs open so he could kneel between them. He peppered kisses from your neck to the top of your jeans. He began unbuttoning your pants and slipping them off of you as he looked up at you through his long lashes. He pulled down your panties and tossed them to the side before trailing his fingers around your swollen clit.

You almost couldn’t believe what was happening. Steve Harrington, your best friend, was on his knees with his face dangerously close to your core. Steve Harrington was rubbing circles on your sensitive bud. You threw your head back and let your moans escape.

“That’s it, baby.” Steve continued rubbing circles as he leaned forward and inserted his tongue inside your soaking hole. Your hands flew down to grab and pull at his hair and he hummed in response sending vibrations throughout your body.

You almost couldn’t take it anymore, you had to have him now. You were too impatient, too needy, for something you didn’t even know you wanted until right now. “Steve.” you breathed as you pulled him back up to you, foreheads touching.

“Shh.” Steve unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down just enough to release his hard cock. He kissed you one last time, letting his lips linger on yours as he lined himself up with your entrance.

He pushed himself into you slowly, gently, taking his time and relishing the feeling of your walls clenching around him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, moaning into his ear. “God, you feel amazing. I bet I feel better than him.” He said it with a sneer as he pumped in and out of you. You couldn’t respond, you just continued to moan. “Mhm, that’s what I thought.” 

Steve leaned back and started rubbing circles around your clit. You almost couldn’t hold yourself together any longer. The tension that had been building in your stomach was about to explode. “Steve, I- I’m gonna come.” You managed to breathe out in between your moans.

“Come for me, baby, come on.” Steve’s thrusts grow faster as you reach your climax. He puts his hands on your face, the pads of his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks as you come down from your high. “That’s it, sweetheart.” 

He bends forward to kiss your forehead before moving his hands to your hips, gripping them a little too hard. His thrusts grow more erratic as his own climax nears. Steve’s mouth grazes your ear as he continues to pump in and out of you. “Fuck, baby. You feel so good.” He almost can’t hold himself together any longer. He pumps one last time before pulling out and shooting thick white ropes onto your stomach. He slumps forward laying next to your side and runs his hands through his hair. 

Steve stands up and pulls his jeans back up. He takes his shirt off and wipes your stomach clean before sitting on the couch next to you and pulling you towards him. With your head resting on his chest, you say, “Wow. I…wow.”

You can feel his eyes looking down on you as he brushes his hand through your hair. “I know. I’ve been thinking about you since the other night.”

You nuzzled tighter into his chest, “Do you want to stay the night?”

He chuckles as he picks you up and begins carrying you to your room. “Of course, babe.” He lays you down on your bed and slips under the blankets with you, pulling you to his chest once more. You feel so at home cuddled into Steve’s chest.

“So tired, Steve.” You mumble as your eyes begin to close.

“That’s alright baby, get some rest. We can talk in the morning.”

As you start to drift to sleep you can hear Steve say, “So, did you forget about Eddie?”

#steve harrington x reader #bestfriend!steveharrington #bestfriend!steve #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x fem reader #steve harrington x fem #fuckboy!eddie #oneshot #myfics #stranger things fic #steve harrington fic

[niki-phoria]

hi idk if youre still taking requests but how do we feel about spending an allnighter with niki? i feel it would be sm fun so if you get time and inspiration could you write something with this idea? also could i be anon 🦆, really love your work

he's so <333 i love him sm

pairing: niki x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 1.0k

includes: niki surprising reader from tour, pizza isn't really takeout but whatever, the timeskips are a little weird, cuddly niki, idk if clay masks actually work like that but just go with it lmao

a/n: my first anon omg i'm so excited thank you so much for requesting !! this idea is so cute <33 i hope you like it :))

additional note: i schedule fics to come out daily so i'm writing stuff that's scheduled for like over a week away i promise i don't mean to take so long to post requests

requests open !! read my rules first

a short knock at your front door catches your attention from your incomplete essay. you let out a small annoyed sigh as you pull yourself away from your computer, opening the door just enough to see who's bothering you so late at night.

niki stands on the other side holding a small bouquet of flowers. you gasp, throwing the door open. “surprise,” he smiles. you’re quick to throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug as you tug him backwards into your apartment. 

niki laughs as he sets the flowers on a nearby counter before he snakes his arms around your waist. you bury your head into his neck to fully take everything in. after months apart while niki was on tour you relish in the feeling of wrapping your arms around him. 

“i missed you.” the words are muffled against niki’s hoodie as you pull him even closer. 

“i missed you too, baby,” he whispers. you blink back tears from your eyes as you pull back just long enough to press your lips against his in a sweet kiss. niki brings a hand up to cup your cheek, wiping away a stray tear as he leans down to press another peck against your lips. “come on. we can order food and cuddle.” 

your smile matches his as you nod, eagerly pulling him along to sit down on your couch. “order something good. i’ll pick the movie. i have an idea.” 

niki pulls out his phone to scroll through a few apps in search of takeout. he can hear you rummaging through a cabinet somewhere before you return with your arms full of a variety of skincare products and a few blankets.

you drape one of the blankets over his shoulders before throwing one over your legs as you make yourself comfortable in the space next to him. “pizza?” 

“sure.” you reach forwards to grab the tv remote, cueing up a random slasher you’ve seen a few times over. it’s one in a series of movies - enough to keep you occupied for most of the night while you catch up with your boyfriend. 

niki holds his phone up to his ear, making an order for a few boxes of pizza before wrapping an arm around your waist as you nuzzle against his chest. he sets his phone down on the coffee table once he finishes placing the order. “we’re watching scream?” he reads, tugging you closer. “again?” 

“it’s a good movie,” you shrug. niki leans down to press a quick kiss against your forehead as you press play. he tugs the blanket up over your shoulder as the movie begins. 

you’re about halfway through the movie when there’s another knock at your door. niki coaxes you off of his body as he pulls out a few bills of cash to hand to the delivery man, taking the boxes from him in return. “thank you!” he calls as he closes the door. 

he sets the boxes down on your coffee table before making himself comfortable next to you again. it tastes good in your mouth as you share the meal together in a comfortable silence.

the first scream movie has finished playing by the time you finish eating. scream two cues up as you stand to wash the grease off of your hands before returning to the couch, now sitting across from niki. you brush his bangs out of his face before slipping a headband onto his head to keep the hair back. 

“you have to do this with me,” niki murmurs, grabbing the second headband you brought to push your own hair back. he closes his eyes as you reach forwards to gently massage the cool clay mask against his skin. his eyes flutter open once you finish, staring into your own for a second before he takes the jar from you. 

despite expecting the cold feeling of the mask, you still flinch a little when it touches your skin. niki’s hand are gentle and slow as he paints it across your skin as if he’s scared you’ll break if he touches you too roughly. 

the sound of niki screwing the lid back onto the jar is your cue that he’s finished. you open your eyes once again, smiling a little at him. he tilts your chin up to quickly lean forwards to press a small peck against your lips. 

you aren’t given time to complain before he opens his arms, coaxing you to lay back against his chest. you take the opportunity as soon as it arrives. niki feels warm as you cuddle against him. he rubs a hand against your back as you reach forwards to set a timer on your phone before refocusing your attention on the movie still playing in front of you. 

twenty minutes pass by quicker than you expected. “can i talk now?” niki whispers. you chuckle, nodding as you shift upwards to help him. he closes his eyes as you peel the now-solidified mask off of his face before repeating the process with you.

niki brushes his fingers against your cheek, studying your features. “your skin is so smooth.” he runs his index finger along your jawline before tugging you closer into another sweet kiss. you let yourself get lost in his touch. each brush of his hands against your own feels like it’s setting the skin on fire in their trace. 

you only dare to pull away once the need for air becomes suffocating. niki’s face is slightly flushed a light pink. you smile brightly at him, losing time in the deep brown of his eyes. 

you shift to lean back against niki’s chest so your head is positioned over his heartbeat. “i love you,” you whisper. you can feel his heartbeat speed up, making your lips quirk upwards in a small smile. 

despite having been friends for years before you officially began going out and spending so much time together as a couple, you still manage to make him nervous. “i love you too.” niki’s voice is quieter than your own. it’s rare that you say those words aloud. you cherish the memory, listening as his heart slowly relaxes once again. your lips quirk upwards into a small smile as you let niki’s heartbeat lull you to sleep. 

#niki x reader #enha x reader #enhypen x reader #enha soft hours #niki x male reader #enha x male reader #enhypen x male reader #niki x you #niki x y/n #niki imagine #niki one shot #niki fluff #niki drabble #niki scenario #enha imagine #enha fluff #enha one shot #enha drabble #enha scenario #enha x you #enha x y/n #enhypen fluff #enhypen x you #enhypen x y/n #enhypen imagine #enhypen scenario #enhypen drabble #enhypen one shot #gn reader #male reader

[sunny-speaks]

Nerd (RIVAL!DACTED x Reader)

First Ren Fic of the new year let's go guys!

Lol, life's been pretty busy and I haven't had as much time to write as I wanted but I guess I have a new aspiration for 2024! Enjoy the fic!

Characters: [REDACTED]/[RIVAL-DACTED] from @14dayswithyou x reader !!

Quick summary: library date??? with [RIVAL-DACTED]??? even though hes a pain to you??? more likely than you would think-

--

You groaned into your hand, head starting to slump into the crook of your arm.

You loved academic validation and you were all for getting good grades and all, but…

Studying?

Always found a way to bore you somehow.

You were painfully poring over the midterm research that your postsecondary teacher and lecturer had assigned for your ‘Psychology in Modern Media’ course.

Sure, it was fun and all. But the exams were sooo boring and the prep material?

God awfully boring.

You took a sip from the drink that you got from the nearby coffee store, twirling the near-empty cup in your hand as you wistfully sighed.

High school was something you’d taken for granted, huh… Man, you'd kill to do those stupid assigned readings right now.

You could feel some form of fatigue taking over your body riiight before… “Angel? What are you doing here~?”

That cotton candy bastard showed up.

Ugh! You couldn’t get enough of him! (In a negative sense! In a negative sense!)

He was everywhere!

You spotted his annoyingly attractive face in that dumb coffee shop earlier when he winked at you and five people behind you nearly fainted.

That ridiculously hot face of his was giving you unwanted and unwarranted troubles! You wanted him gone.

He pulled up in that ridiculously tight black bodysuit and that white slasher hoodie of his with too many belts and buckles to keep track of. The same unfortunately went for his pants.

It’s like he was trying to show himself off! Ugh, he knew he was hot shit, didn’t he?!

You glared at him, frustration seeping through, “What do you want now, [REDACTED]? If it’s not your head on a spike, I’m good.”

He raised his arms in mock surrender, “Woah, what’s got you so worked up, Angel? Is it lonely at the top?” He’d let you top him in anything if you wanted… In class, in bed, whatever…

He looked so stupidly attractive with the way his hair framed his face, the way his grin sat perfectly on all his features, the little way his eyebrows creas—

“Ugh, just, shut up, will you?” You scoffed out at him then winced at your volume.

That was rude. Even for you.

You sighed, exasperated, slight guilt remnants on your face. “I- My bad… Just the… exam prep is confusing. And I don’t get it.”

He gave an inquisitive tilt of his head, “Which questions?” He slid into the seat beside you, leaning close enough for you to smell the faint traces of black coffee lingering on your clothes from your previous encounter. You tried to erase that ugly feeling when you saw him smile at a pair of girls from earlier.

(…Does he always smile like that to others?)

(Ha, yeah. Not like you’re anyone special…)

He smiled softly to himself as his breaths got deeper, trying to intake as much of your natural scent as he could. That was something he would always want more of...

(Those pathetic leeches from earlier left their stupid perfume lingering on his clothes… the only way to rid him of it was to sit closer to youuu <3)

Somehow, you were too preoccupied with your stupidly annoying questions to even berate his presence this time.

And if you were a little distracted by how close he was, that was no one else's business.

They’d been giving you way too much trouble for the past… half-hour or so.

You picked up the question sheet and pointed at the parts you didn’t understand, “So, I got what a sociopath should look like and covert signs in that dumb show I had to watch, and I know the ways to find sociopathic responses in someone, but how does that correlate with these random non-associated symptoms portrayed by this character?!”

You involuntarily leaned closer to him as you stabbed the piece of paper with an accusatory finger, frustrated. “I swear! The teacher hates me or something!”

[REDACTED] wouldn’t let it slide if the teacher actually hated you though… He’d ruin her reputation amongst colleagues while keeping her isolated from social media. They’d make all family members repulsed of her and willing to not contact her. And then they’d get her fired from her job. If she ever tried to get another job, he could easily fabricate a couple pieces of incriminating evidence from one of his crime scenes…

But he knew you would find it hot that he's confident in himself and that he's witty. So he wouldn't explain his plan just like that.

He grinned, a condescending quip on the tip of his tongue. “Maybe it’s just because I’m a hotter student.”

You spluttered in indignance, bewildered how he even thought of that. Was he insinuating he was hotter than you?! He might be right then... “Wh-What?! Asshole! Ugh!” Just as you were about to get up, he added onto his comment.

“Also, the answer’s right there.” He twirled a pen with his fingers, softly whistling to himself.

“Huh?!” You couldn’t believe it.

But he was right...?

You read the part he had underlined and circled and… the answer was there. That's... weird.

You didn’t have a clue on how you missed it! It drove you insane for so long, and for what?! For that stupidly sexy jerk to find it in one go?

You groaned reluctantly at the help. Maybe he wasn’t just… y’know, a piece of ass all the time... or a jerk. Maybe he was… kinda smart and nice. “Fine. Good job, I guess, asshat… Why’re you even here, god knows you don’t need to study. Like. Ever.” You eye up and down at his visible muscles that his outfit strains to keep compressed.

He pouts a little at the accusation. “Mm, even I study, angel. Might be hard to believe with a physique as good as mine, but I do take time to work on my studies.”

“Sure. And it was totally by chance that we saw each other at the coffee shop down the street. And that you study at the same library as me.” You drawled on, naming one coincidence after the other until [REDACTED] was subjected to some form of abject embarrassment. "What're you, a copycat?"

You paid that much attention to him? No one else… Just him?

Ooh, his heartbeat practically played hopscotch in his chest at the revelation! But no! He must remain calm and mean! Only for you!

They grinned slyly at you. “Angel, please. I would never even try to copy you. So it must’ve been your idea to imitate me, huh? Bet you stalk me or something,” He lied through their teeth, in the pathological way they were used to. They’d be lying if it wasn’t incredibly ironic.

“Hah, you wish.” Your nose twitched in annoyance. God, he was far too good at riling you up. “Whatever, what’s the answer to…”

And the two of you spent the rest of the day, bickering over answers.

Maybe [REDACTED] had earned a bit, a fraction, of your gratitude.

Maybe you were starting to like them a bit more.

But he’d never know that, it’s not like he reads your phone notes or messages or has cameras in your house.

…Right?

#yandere x reader #✨ full fic #14 days with you #14dwy ren #ren x reader #ren 14 days with you #2024 post lesgo #yandere

[semiweirdshipper]

Altering Wesker's personality to make him an emotional supporter.

Usually I write this process on paper when I need to work on a slashers personality, but I wanted to share it with you guys so you could get an idea on how I turn the bad guys into emotional supporters.

So when it comes to working on the slashers' personalities, I always try to find a way to make them each more kind, sympathetic, supportive and likable while still somewhat staying true to their unique personality traits. Normally this process comes easy. I've never really struggled much with altering a slashers personality....

Until prince blondy bitch came into the picture that is.

Yes, this rip-off Corey Hart makes me wanna hit the snooze button in my brain every time I think about him. He's just so DIFFICULT and his personality is extremely unattractive to me. But I have him put down for future roles in billions of my fics and drabbles, so mentally I can't ignore him. I've gotta work on his personality and turn him into a proper emotional supporter.

Let's break down those traits, shall we?

Prince blondy is-

- narcissistic

- controlling

- manipulative

- dishonest

- powerful

- sadistic

- cunning

- polite only when he wants to be or if he's trying to manipulate someone

- disloyal

- teases and taunts people.

- gets jealous and loses his temper.

- gets bored of his friends and romantic partners

- views most people as insignificant and lesser than him.

- backstabbing attitude

- merciless

- gets bored easily and abandons people and/or projects.

- rude.

- does not value people for who they are but rather the benefits they can provide him with. Once someone is no longer valuable to him, he either runs away or kills them.

Yeah.... He's a real tough one. There's not a lot of positivity going on with this one. He's got every unattractive trait from A to Z. Imagining him as a supporter is like trying to walk on needles.

So what do I do during hard times like these? I make the positivity myself. I alter his bitch traits and give him some positive ones.

Altered Wesker

- Let's make him narcissistic still but with the ability to accept competition and rivalry without getting jealous or murderous.

- let's make him honest. Brutal honesty or keeping his mouth shut is better than lying.

- He hates unfinished business and will not abandon anyone or anything without explaining himself first.

- he can be manipulative but only during serious situations.

- He owns up to his failures, mistakes and misunderstandings. (There's nothing more attractive than a person who can admit they're wrong).

- he is still very intelligent, strong and powerful.

- He's still obsessed with uroboros and will murder, but he's more empathetic and less sadistic. He won't murder people he cares about.

- uses his honesty to defend his loyalty.

- has a high standard for people he considers worthy of his time. These worthy people will receive his kindness, consideration and attention.

- Likes independence, trust and dependability. These are traits he seeks in a partner.

- still egotistical and holds himself in high regard.

That's just some of the traits I'm giving him to make him more supportive. Now for a little bit of writing. Albert Wesker x reader headcanons. These help me get an even deeper understanding of his personality.

Original/unaltered: Wesker x reader.

Wesker enters the breakroom and notices you sitting at a table. You looked horrible; your hair messy, your eyes dark and your outfit wrinkled. What a ghastly sight for him to walk in on. You should do a better job keeping yourself in proper shape.

Focused on ignoring you, Wesker made his way to the coffee machine on the other side of the room. His brow twitched in frustration at the sound of your pitiful "morning sir". Of course he couldn't go without drawing your worthless attention.

"(y/n)," He answered flatly, his back facing you, "Don't you have morning patrol?"

"Leon switched me," You answered, "I had a really long night last night. It was rough..."

"Excuses, excuses," Wesker glared at the bitter taste of his coffee. Why couldn't things just be the way he wanted them to be? "Allowing your personal life to get in the way of your job is insubstantial. Do better next time."

You remained silent, soon finishing your beverage and rising up to leave.

Wesker didn't notice nor did he care.

Altered/my version: Wesker x reader. (same situation)

Wesker entered the breakroom and immediately noticed you sitting in your lonesome at a table. You looked exhausted and unkempt, the expression on your face tired and miserable. Hm, he wondered what was wrong. Normally you were well dressed and always upbeat.

"(y/n)," He addressed as he slowly walked past you, turning his head to meet your eyes.

Despite your situation, you still managed a smile at him, your body lifting and your voice kind, "Oh, morning sir. How're you doing today?"

He always respected how considerate and proper you were even during difficult times. "I'm doing well. And you?" He continued to give glances to you as he fixed himself some coffee.

"I'm fine," You say softly, "Just a rough night."

Ah, so it was something personal most likely. "I see you swapped positions with Kennedy. I'd rather not have short notices like this in the future. After you're finished here, meet me in my office and we will discuss what you are going through."

You smiled weakly and blushed. Wesker always knew when something was wrong, and he was always so quick to provide any care he possibly could. He really was a good boss.

That morning, Wesker sat with you in the breakroom.

Aaaannnnnndddd.... Emotional support slasher born. BOOM!

The reason why I have so much trouble writing prince blondy is because I really don't like him. His personality is like a smelly trashcan to me and if I ever met him in real life I'd kick him in the balls so hard his motherless grandkids would feel it. But creating these writing templates helps me to view him underneath a different light. It's how I build personalities and familiarize them.

I've done this process on paper for multiple killers. I just thought it would be fun to share with you how I altered personalities to write my stories.

#slasher fanfiction #resident evil fanfiction #dead by daylight fanfiction #albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #alternate universe #emotional support slashers #Wesker is such a pain in the arithmetics #I said I was gonna be more open and share my crap #So here I am #I'm sharing my crap #And it's probably going to backfire

[m4nd0l0r]

Five Hargreeves Headcanons (That Have Consumed Every Single Space in my Mind-)

Description: “Live.. Laugh… Love the insanity the apocalypse brings me.” -Five Hargreeves, tired after a caffeine rush and/or from a drunken high. 2019. (this is canon.. HE TOLD ME HIMSELF)

Author’s Note: this is just how I’m dealing with writer’s block— i swear i’m still working on my upcoming Five fics- 😭😭 so uh have this for now i guess 🥲 no warnings btw!! its just me writing in lowercase a lot- a shit ton of crack and swearing- (five’s body is aged up- and his consciousness ranges from 30 to 50 in my works— however you decided which age you want for your experience :)))

Five Taglist (i forgot to tag im so sorry 😭): @ells-graveyard @noahspector @aelinismyqueen @sunweee @reinaeru @ne0boss @twauna00 @placidpluto @eichenhouseproperty @heartsforsuyin @ghostlywavelengths @technicallydifferenttraveler @seconds-not-decades @magical-girl-on-fire @emotionally-unstabel @peachy-wolfhard @its-loki-bitch @raven-fandomtrash @theilliterateskankula @magicstrange @ne0boss @venusrambles @whereintheworldisspencerreid @honeycombdumbass @mivzai @oscarisaacsleftballsack @zenithinthebin @peachteeaaa @rchaoz @wickedmystery @wordsandnerds @umbrellatte @666abby6666 @iameddiemunsonshair @starlightinhumanform @vennythearsonist @trashmouthsahra (if you want to be removed/added, pls tell me via pm!!)

he likes bitter coffee candy (if the mf cant get coffee he’d raid a candy shop rather than logically coming after a cafe-)

likes slasher films for how creative the deaths look (esp if its practical effects, he’s a sucker for those) (he likes nightmare on elm street, he gives me that impression for WHAT)

^ cos of this- i basically headcanon that in his commission days- he’d kill creatively- as if it were his canvas, my guy is an artist with blood 💪

idk why but he’d be an avid “gelato is NOT ice cream you idiot” typa guy (fucker knows italian and my ass RAN W IT)

he watches julia roberts romance movies (cos i like her rom films so im projecting-) (he def likes the maturity of the ending of my best friend’s wedding)

for some reason he considers mocha as chocolate rather than coffee (like the old man he is)

actually likes caramel, never tells anyone for no reason (fucking punk ass smh)

he’d say he hates animals but he’d give a pat to a dog/cat if he’d see one (but he’ll glare at the poor thing if it scratches him-)

from ptsd from the apocalypse- he tries to never indulge w small things like getting large amounts of food- cos he has the mindset that he “might need extra in case something bad happens”

he’d hate physical touch at first- flinching like a surprised cat on steroids— but he gets used to it slowly- and one person at a time

also i dont give a shit on what anyone thinks- FIVE IS A LITTLE SPOON IN HUGS— why you may ask? fucker is a touch starved ptsd filled mf- he needs those hugs ASAP- he would hold your hand 25/8 to reduce his paranoia i just know it (i PROPHESIZEEEE)

the first beer he drunk was a bottle he found in a post apocalypse alcohol store and the liquid was full w small grime and dirt- but he wanted to try some to “check off a bucket list”

LOVES dark comedies, he just does, he CACKLES when he watches one (but he only shows amusement when he’s alone, never w his siblings)

^ he’d also slap his thigh if he finds something soooo funny (old man behaviour smh)

has a personal vendetta against ppl who WOULDN’T put pineapple on pizza (klaus converted the grandpa and at first he felt gross eating it but as he continues he thought: “ok. this isn’t that bad.” the next thing you know, you see him on the phone calling the pizza place for 2 more boxes of hawaiian pizza—)

listens to edith pliaf RELIGIOUSLY (you would gift him a vinyl of hers and his eyes would SHINE) (the only time you saw his eyes the brightest-)

with modern music— he’d prolly like radio music (until you berate him and convert him to alt & indie rock)

has an odd fixation with guns and knives (like the papa he is) (would explain EVERYTHING ABOUT A SPECIFIC WEAPON) (he’s a nerd) (he’ll never admit it) (ever)

has a switchblade on his dominant arm pocket (he could use anything as a weapon, but he likes to be “prepared”)

like on s1, he’d pretend to be a kid and all innocent & shit to get free shit from strangers (you’d hop on the bandwagon and **nicely** ask him to get you stuff too.. he complains and says no but you’d see him on the next day with the shit you requested on his hands)

^ continuation with this— fucker prolly got a coffee machine cos he went up to some lady- went on, put a sad act, and went “oh no.. i dont got a gift to give to my dad.. he always wanted a coffee machine after ours broke” and the lady would have pitied his ass and bought a cheap but durable one for him— this would lead to a situation where the rest of the umbrellas try to take away the coffee machine away from his addicted ass-

viktor: should we?? do something??? diego: we’ve took THREE of those damn machines- what else can we do??? klaus: it’s like… he pulls it out of his ass.. you think he shits out coffee beans?? or is it just liquidated coffee at this point? you: i should call the ambulance before he falls off the window from the coffee… can’t deal with a cranky five.. luther: (is tired of it all and just wants to enjoy his married life) .. yes. please do.

in conclusion? never take away five’s coffee- he will drive you mad—

whenever he’s drunk- he acts like a goddamn sloth (esp if he’s comfortable with you- mf will CLING ON YOU LIKE SOME PARASITE—) (i wouldn’t mind tho 😏- i mean what?)

though as much as he likes bitter coffee- i see him DESPISE BITTER BEER, he would spit that stuff out of with the most offended face ever (all scrunched up like crumpled paper)

for my fellow filipino readers- he unfortunately SUCKS ASSSS when speaking in tagalog… you either tease the living fuck out of him about him or smile through your ear pain going “wow! galing! (amazing!)” (no he was not amazing he sounded like a screeching tire or smth- /lh)

#tua five #five hargreeves x reader #five x reader #number five #number five x reader #the umbrella academy #tua x reader #five headcanons #five hargreeves headcanons #thank you for reading my madness- #i swear im writing for my five fic- it just has a sci-fi so ya girl needs to ORGANIZE— #umbrella academy #tua s1 #tua s2 #tua 3

[milfgyuu]

I haven't sent one of these in a hot minute! The last gifset had me thinking: Sincr it's 🎃time, how about assigning the typical horror movie roles/tropes to Seventeen? Like, we already know Mingyu is The Hot Girl that Dies First™️ 🤣 (grouping them is also fine!)

HELL YEAH, it's spooky time!!!!! I am popping these under a read-more jusssst in case there are some sweet angels on my blog that may be sensitive to the themes or aren't into the horror genre <3

but if you're into SVT and horror film roles/tropes, read below!

Cheol - is surviving. idc. he's giving Chad Michael Murray in House of Wax like he definitely is kind of the asshole with a seedy past in the movie but it's also the reason he is making it out alive because he's fighting back. mf is running around with a tire iron and a gash down the side of his face and he's PISSED.

Jeonghan/Minghao - is taking things a little too...unseriously. like "why are you guys freaking out? ooooh he's gonna getcha!" probably even finds himself getting caught or injured and laughs when everyone gets mad at him because "it was just a joke, omg u guys". definitely turns out to be the killer in the end.

Joshua - god, sorry, but he's the handsome, sweet, innocent boyfriend of the female lead who gets absolutely gutted by the killer in the first half of the movie. Like he is the letterman jacket-wearing jock bf of Drew Barrymore's character in the original Scream. He was truly a bystander but boy is he pretty.

Junhui/Hoshi - He's just a side character but the whole audience loves him! and then he gets kidnapped and disappears halfway thru the movie so everyone assumes he's dead but just when the killer is about to whack the main character he shows up out of nowhere and knocks them out with a fire extinguisher to save them. he's a hero, baby. he still might get got tho :/

Woozi - can we get fluffy for a sec? i know it's horror tropes but this is Thackery Binx from Hocus Pocus, ok? he was kind of a little shit and then he got turned into a cat so now he's chasing around these three idiot kids trying to help them stop the witches from eating all the kids in Salem and he's perpetually irritated at his lack of opposable thumbs bc if he had them, he could just do it all himself.

Wonwoo - he's the dark-knight detective on the case. he's scary, kinda shady, and is likely doing a ton of illegal shit to find leads and force information out of people, but he's not a bad guy. He's been on the case for over a decade and lives off black coffee and cigarettes. definitely makes it to the end and has a hand in taking the killer down.

Mingyu - ok, yes, i still think he's the token slasher-bimbo - like he's the opening kill before the title sequence BUT alternatively, he's the martyr...he's the character you end up loving and then you have to watch as he sacrifices himself so everyone else lives & we love/hate him for it. We weep for him. We write alternate ending fics for him.

Seokmin - Sigh, he's the dad who buys the super-haunted house in a paranormal horror flick. He can't afford to move because he poured his life savings into buying the house. Shit keeps getting progressively worse. His dog chased something into the woods and never came back. His kids are possessed. His wife is floating in the corner and making weird noises. but he's hot - like ryan reynolds in Amityville.

Vernon - bro, he is actually Darry from Jeepers Creepers. I literally can't explain this to you if you haven't watched this CLASSIC and those of you who have seen it...you get it. Like why tf is he ignoring Ms. Dabney????? she's trying to save him and he's like...ok weirdo...i'm gonna go check out that hole where it looks like bodies are being dumped...bye.

Seungkwan - he's not going in that fuck-ass house dude. he's not doing it. he will stand guard with whatever makeshift weapon he can find and he's talking mad shit about everyone and their stupid plan the whole time he's waiting. he is, however, a good friend, and he will run into the house the first time he hears someone scream. is soooo pissed when he finds out it was over nothing and now he's stuck with everyone else in the death trap.

Chan - he is the planner, the optimist, the strategist. he is getting everyone the hell out and he's got the brains and balls to pull it all off. like, my boi is setting traps as if he's Freddie in Scooby Doo. He is pissing the killer off left and right. definitely gets himself in a pinch - almost meets his end - and still, somehow finds a way to live.

#svt imagines #svt scenarios #svt #seventeen #classic horror #svt drabbles #svt misc #tw: horror

[murderousxcoffee]

My Dearest Adversaries Ch1 [Dilf!PolyGhostface x Reincarnated Sidney!Reader]

Prologue

Thanks to @brahmsheelshireshusband for the great name! No CWs apply, I think

Man, people used to tell you, you’ve got one hell of a future waiting for you.

You didn’t believe that then. You don’t believe it now, sitting on the floor of your shitty apartment, eating Chinese takeout. But things could be worse. God knows they could be so much worse.

It’s been less than two weeks since you moved in. Probably should’ve stayed in a campus dorm, but the thought of being around people made your skin crawl. Besides, this complex is nothing but college students and college dropouts and what you’re guessing are the two professors you saw not long ago. 

People here are, uh, nice. You think. You’re not really the best at making friends, ‘cause of the nightmares and stuff. But you’ve got a friendly next door neighbor, and someone invited you over for pizza sometime. Everyone seems to know everyone else, and they seem open to knowing you, too. Cool?

Maybe you should try and tone down the cynicism. You don’t have any reason to be cynical anymore, anyway. And yet…

Somewhere in your heart, a snake is coiled tight. It’s always there, that tight binding of anger, inescapable, insatiable. It has been there since you were born, and it will be there, you know it will be there, when you die. You were, after all, born to die, you know this. That’s the knowledge you’ve carried since even before the murders of your parents. That you’re here to die, and you’re not going to die alone.

Your phone rings. You glance at the screen. UNKNOWN CALLER, it reads in big fat letters.

You go back to eating.

The phone rings on.

Eventually, they’ll get bored, you tell yourself.

The phone rings on.

Eventually that telemarketer will give up.

The phone rings on.

Damn, this guy’s persistent.

The phone rings on.

The coils tighten around your heart. You look at the screen again.

You set your food down on the blanket you spread on the floor, and pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Sidney.”

Your mouth goes dry. That voice.

“I’m glad you finally picked up. What took you so long?”

That fucking voice.

“You have the wrong number,” you speak.

“Do I?” he says.

You aren’t thinking, but you’re okay with that. Like allowing an old trusted friend to take the wheel of the car when you can’t drive. You pull yourself to your feet. As you pass the window, you look through the blinds. You’re high off the ground, where you should be safe. The courtyard below you is empty of anything but shadows in the streetlights. You look at the reflections in the glass at the room behind you. The room is empty of anything but you. How long will that be true?

“That’s not my name.” You turn around, head to the kitchen.

“Is it?” he says.

A weird thought surfaces - which one is this? - but you’re not thinking clearly, no, you’re not thinking at all, so you let it wash away.

There aren’t many knives in your kitchen, but there is one you trust in a drawer. You pull it out, press your back against the wall, and force yourself to breathe.

“Who is this?”

“Oh, you know… just a friend.”

“I don’t have friends.”

“Really? What a shame. I hoped you’d have brought some with you.” The voice lowers. “Is it really just you, Sidney? Did you really come back all alone?”

Your stomach rolls. You place your fist over it, holding the knife away from your body. In your mind, you think of blood, so much blood and your hand all wet and sticky and slimy with it. But not how you remember.

What you want to say is, I don’t need anyone else.

What you say instead is, “which one are you?”

“Which one?” His voice lights up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s always just been me.”

“You’re lying.”

“Am I?”

“I know you’re lying.” Your voice shakes.

“Is that so.”

You didn’t even realize you’d closed your eyes. Now you open them again. Adjust your grip on the knife. Get moving.

“Where are you?”

“What a good question! How about we play a little game? Get it right, and I’ll tell you.”

“Fuck you.” You throw open the closet door in the hall. Empty of everything but a few bags from a dollar store. There’s only three rooms in this apartment, why does it now seem so huge?

“Oh, don’t be like that, Sid.” The shortened name stops you in your tracks. Your hand shakes, your grip on the phone beginning to hurt. “We both know there’s only one way this can end.”

“I’ll kill you first,” you whisper. 

“Now who ever said anything about killing?” The voice cackles. “I thought we were just having a conversation! No need to get all intense about this.”

“Shut up!” You slam open your bedroom door. “I know who you are!”

“You do?” He’s taunting you. Your hands are shaking, and it’s not all fear anymore. “Well don’t keep me in suspense, sweetheart! Tell me who I am.”

Your closet doesn’t even have clothes in it yet. You close the door and sink to the floor. The painted wood is cool against your forehead.

“Ghostface.” That’s all you need to say.

The other end is silent. When did you stop breathing? You’re used to holding it. You’re used to making yourself exhale and inhale without a sound.

“Now how about that?” He says. “You do know who I am.”

On the floor, a glint of light. You dropped the knife at some point. There’s wet on your fingers, you look at your hand and for a moment, it's all red.

“I’m a little bit surprised, Sidney.” Again, that name. “I never took you for the true crime type. It’s got so many bad memories attached to it. But I guess we all start somewhere, don’t we?”

Your stomach twists. You grit your teeth.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you need to do more homework, baby girl. Better get on it quick, before classes start. You wouldn’t want to get left behind by all your new friends, would you?”

You don’t answer that. You let your eyes close, choose to breathe and think for one second, two, three, four.

“You’re not in my apartment, are you,” you say, voice flat. 

“Would you like me to be?” He purrs.

Turning around on the floor, pushing the knife away, you lean your back against the door.

“Do you want to know what I’d do,” he says, “If I were in that place alone with you?”

There’s no good answer for that, is there.

“You’re going to tell me even if I say no.”

“That’s my Sidney,” he whispers. “So fucking smart, Sidney. Once you know how the game works, you know just what to do to win it. But all games rely on a little luck to win. I’m sure you know how the quote goes.”

The wolf only needs to be lucky once. Yeah, you know that one.

“Every game is a little bit different, sweetie,” he says. “Nobody ever gets the same cards twice. So, I don’t really know what I’m gonna do, when I’m alone with you. But I promise you, baby. I promise you, you’re gonna hate it even more than the last time.”

You close your eyes.

“Which. One. Are. You?”

He breathes on the other end of the phone.

“Your first.”

Nausea rolls over you, it takes a moment to process what he said.

“Now the next time I see you,” he says, “we’re gonna play that little game you know I love. I’ve changed it up since the last time we played. It’s like brand new. I promise you won’t get bored.”

Your hand covers your mouth. A name surfaces in your mind, you struggle to grasp it, but the voice drives everything out of your head. 

“It’s gonna be so fun, it’ll be killer!” The laughter stabs your ear drums. You pull the phone away from your ear and look at the screen just as the other hangs up.

It takes all your strength not to throw the phone into the wall.

“Fuck!” You pull your knees up to your body best you can and bury your fingers in your hair. Now you feel them, hot tears streaming down your face, burning your skin. You don’t fight them. You let the alien emotions sink into your bones.

This is not a familiar pain. This is not a familiar rage. It is yours, uniquely yours, in every way. You grind your teeth as the sobs shake your body, and in this moment, you embrace it. That hatred that chased you down from the town of your childhood all the way to this miserable little city in the sun.

It pisses you off, that you’re not the only Ghostface in town. That’s what you tell yourself hours later, after you calmed down. It scares you, that another one might be onto you. That’s why you felt so sick when he said ‘your first’. You thought he said ‘you first’. That’s what you tell yourself. 

By the time the morning sun hits your windows, you even think you believe it.

#coffee writes slasher fic #ghostface x reader #polyghostface x reader #billy loomis x y/n #billy loomis x you #billy loomis x reader #stu matcher x reader #stu macher x y/n #stu macher x you #scream x yn #scream x you #scream x reader #my dearest adversaries

[silverzoomies]

💗🤙hiya !! i figured i'd share a list of all the fics i'm currently working on !! to all the, like, five people who're interested lmao. i've been writing a whole bunch lately, pretty much nonstop !!

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💗🔥 here's the list !! 🔥💗 (spoilers, they're all quickie related except for one, sorry 💗)

for halloween: quickie explores a spooky, abandoned lab and comes across an undead reader. but they're not hungry for brains, they're hungry for love !!! 🧟💗

for halloween: quickie gets a little tipsy with a special drink hank whipped up just for him. quickie and reader then abandon a halloween party to go mess around. more fun than it sounds, i promise 🥂🎃

for halloween: quickie/reader, but there's no smut or romance. it's actually a slasher au inspired by my favorite horror flicks. quickie's a ruthless slasher who makes a game out of killing people in creative ways. and reader's the "final girl" 🔪🩸

for halloween (kinda): short wandavision agatha/fietro shipfic wherein she edges him. sorry !!

reader/quickie fic set in the 80's, wherein there's an underground, smut film industry that capitalizes on the novelty of humans sleeping with mutants for the first time. you can probably imagine where this goes 🎬💗

reader/quickie fic set in the 70's, with a voyeurism theme. age gap, but reader's older. they catch him in their house. humiliation ensues. in a kinky way

reader/quickie fic set in the 90's, wherein he's joined the x-men at a club for scott's birthday. but quickie's in his 30's and a mega-loner, so he becomes a sort of wallflower at the bar. he meets reader there. lots of references to 90's eurodance/techno/trance music 💗🪩

slowly working through my long-form, quickie fic of 20+ chapters. but it might never be finished. theme is: try not to fall in love with your best friend challenge. also there's daddy issues and psychological trauma involved

colin zabel/reader fic wherein they work at the coffee shop he frequents. reader decides to surprise him at work one day as a friendly gesture. leads to stuff. you can imagine what stuff ☕️💗

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i'd apologize for all the quickie fics, but im really not sorry. i just adore him, and im havin' too much fun writing abt him ✌️💗

#txt #wips #if youre readin this tag btw i just wanted to say hi !!! i love you so much !!

[skywarpie]

Directory

Coyote or Sky (whichever)

They/them

Side blog to @hunderprest (main) my slasher blog is @voorbeees

27

Historian/Museum worker. I currently work at a WWII memorial and a Civil War Union headquarters. Most of my time I spend by transcribing letters, gluing artifacts back together, and doing research. Hoping to work at the National Archives one day in the future.

Love info dumping about history

I have a ferret (Finnegan) and cat (Jefferson)

Tag/Com. Directory

I write and take commissions. You can read my fics under AO3 or here on tumblr

If you enjoy my writing, feel free to commission me or buy me a coffee. I write smut occasionally and will tag accordingly.

History

Ferrets

Ghost

Dad Copia

My twitter

Tik-tok

Discord

Edits

DILF Copia connoisseur. License issued in Feb. 2023.

Headers made by gothdaddyissues

#d.ont reblog #intro to this hell place i call a blog #i only added tags i use the most often #since ghost is really the only fandom i tag

[sznofthesticks]

#ooo this kinda resembles what i imagined for your 126 final girls fic#ah i may need to go read it again for the 3rd time#i’m OBSESSED like you have no idea#lonestar x slashers *chefs kiss*#okay sorry for being annoying in your tags lol#*flees*

*SCREAM*

That's what I thought too!!! Especially the one on the top far right with the coffee mug, Marjan totally took that picture!!! It makes me so happy that you reread my 126 final girls fic 🥹🥹 I had genuinely so much fun writing it

oh hi tessa! 👋

i agree that picture was definitely taken by marjan!

i throughly love that fic so much and i am eternally grateful to you for blessing us with it. 🧡

#nice asks #911 lone star

[marvelmaniac715]

This is part fourteen of my Chucky transfers his soul into a human at the end of Seed au! It’s quite similar to a request I got and am yet to write, but it’s slightly different. As with all fics in this au, up until the age of fourteen Glen and Glenda go by he/him and she/her respectively, but they’re sixteen in this fic. Ever since part nine or ten I’ve had this plot in mind, and I really like it, I hope you do too :).

————————————————————-

When the twins were young, they couldn’t fall asleep before they heard a bedtime story. Chucky was always on bedtime duty, and he couldn’t stand the picture books Tiffany had bought for the kids, so he’d tell them stories he’d made up (child-friendly, of course). Glen would always fall asleep first, but Glenda would stay awake in rapt attention until the story was done, a wide grin on their face.

This lasted up until the twins were ten. One night in August as Chucky sat down for the nightly ritual, Glenda tugged on his arm and softly said:

“Uh, Daddy? I think we’re just gonna go to sleep now, aren’t we too old for bedtime stories?”

And just like that, he knew they were growing up.

————————————————————-

Glenda liked listening to true crime podcasts. They’d sit with their earbuds in and scroll through their phone as the voices of fellow true crime enthusiasts blasted into their ears. Sometimes (when they could be coaxed back to the realm of the living by their father or sibling) they’d tell their family excitedly about the serial killer they were learning about that day. 

Chucky didn’t mind it, his kid was learning about the all-time greats, his personal heroes. One time he even got to talk to his child about the man who had inspired his own love of killing: the man who’d killed his father. Obviously he didn’t mention that fact, but it was so great to share his passions with his child. 

One day, Chucky was drinking a cup of coffee. It had been a long day, and he looked forward to sitting back and relaxing with a Netflix documentary about criminals. He couldn’t stand podcasts, he liked looking at stuff, not just listening. But since when was he ever allowed to just relax? Just as he got settled, Glenda walked into the room and sat down next to him, phone and earbuds in hand. When they glanced up at their father they gave him an odd smile, and Chucky instantly felt unsettled.

“I’ve just been listening to a podcast.”

…Okay, where was Glenda going with this?

“Is it a good one?”

Glenda smirked and nodded as Chucky took a sip of his drink.

“Oh yeah, it’s about this serial killer from the eighties who went around strangling people. His name was Charles Lee Ray.”

Chucky spat out his coffee, beginning to choke. There was always a possibility that there’d be a true crime episode about him, but he’d never expected that Glenda would listen to it. Then again, why wouldn’t they? They’d listened to almost every true crime episode in existence, even from the obscure podcasts with one or two subscribers. Still, he had to play it cool, maybe Glenda was just telling him about the episode they’d watched? Maybe there wasn’t any deeper intentions? Clearing his throat, he tried to play off the choking with a casual question.

“Learn anything interesting about him?”

This question had multiple purposes. The first purpose was (obviously) to try and hide the fact that he was in fact Charles Lee Ray. The second purpose was, well… Chucky wouldn’t deny that he was slightly vain, he wanted to know what the world thought about him after his ‘passing’. With an impossibly wider grin, Glenda began to talk.

“He was born in New Jersey and killed his mom when he was seven. His dad- get this- was killed by the Hackensack Slasher from one of the other podcast episodes I listened to! He died in a toy store and some kid went crazy and thought his doll was possessed by Charles Lee Ray’s soul.”

So far so good. That was all correct information (apart from the assumption that Andy went ‘crazy’) Glenda didn’t seem to suspect a thing. But he decided to continue his questioning, because this was actually a really nice conversation.

“Anything else?”

Glenda moved closer to him, and there was a few moments of direct eye contact, neither person blinked. Chucky was still feeling quite unnerved, especially when Glenda’s smile revealed teeth, sharp like a tiger’s.

“I have it on pretty good authority that he’s a great dad.”

Chucky fell off his chair in shock. Glenda knew? How could they know? Calm down Chucky, he thought, maybe it’s just a theory that they heard? Maybe they’re messing with you? But Glenda wouldn’t be so cruel, they must actually know. But there was always hope. Getting up from the floor and sitting back down, he asked the question that contained the last of his hope.

“Oh really? Did he have kids then?”

Glenda’s expression turned grim, and slightly pensive.

“Yep, twins, both non-binary. The older twin’s okay, but I hear the younger twin is super awesome and cool, every sixteen year old wants to be like them.”

Glenda knew. But how? Chucky needed to find out.

“Glenda… I don’t understand, are you suggesting that-‘

“I’m not suggesting anything Dad, I know.”

There was no way around it now.

“How do you know? Even better, how much do you know?”

Glenda sighed before biting their lip nervously.

“Not much. You talk in your sleep a lot, and sometimes when you take naps in front of me I can hear you whispering to yourself about ‘Andy Barclay’ and ‘why a doll?’ So I pretty much joined the dots from there. I also found the doll from the old legends up in the attic a few weeks ago, that, coupled with the fact that Charles Lee Ray practiced voodoo and the additional fact that you share a name with him, it wasn’t hard to work out. I was hoping you’d tell me more.”

He had such a smart kid. He wouldn’t have been able to work all of that out at Glenda’s age, in a way he was proud of them. He’d always intended to tell them when they were old enough, surely sixteen is the right age to tell them? He wouldn’t tell Glen, the poor kid wouldn’t be able to take it, but Glenda was a lot like him, they deserved to know the truth. With a heavy sigh, he took his child’s hand and resigned himself to a long and uncomfortable talk.

“What do you wanna know?”

Glenda’s reply was immediate.

“Everything. I want to know why you gave up literal infamy to settle down in Suburbia and raise a family. I want to know if I was a doll too, and Glen. There’s so much in our lives that’s never made sense, if you have the answers, please tell me.”

Chucky closed his eyes for a moment, and opened them to find that Glenda was close to tears, wrapping an arm around their shoulder he began.

“I wanted to be a dad. It’s not fun running all the time, from the cops, from Andy Barclay, from Jennifer Tilly and her assistant even. I wanted you and Glen to have a good life, the sort of life I couldn’t provide if I was stuck in a little doll body. Yes, you and Glen were both born as a doll- one doll. Your mother was a doll too, we got in a fight in 1998 and I knocked a toaster into her bathtub before transferring her soul into a doll. Moments after you were born your mom and I… died. We were brought to Hollywood and turned into animatronics to be used in a movie based on the urban legend of Chucky the killer doll. Jennifer Tilly was playing your mom, but we had no idea you two even existed because some British guy stole you the night you were born and raised you as a puppet. You were five years old when you decided to come to America on your own to find us. Admittedly I didn’t have the best reaction. I believe my exact words were that your doll vessel had ‘fell off the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down’, so sorry about that. Long story short, your mom transferred her soul into Jennifer Tilly who looked extremely like her, I transferred my soul into her chauffeur Stan and immediately changed my name back to my actual name because there was no way I was living the rest of my life as Stan. I impregnated Jennifer Tilly before I transferred my soul into Stan and she/your mom gave birth to twins who became the hosts to you and Glen. That’s probably why you don’t feel entirely whole, because you were born into one body. I always meant to tell you the truth, but it was never the right time, I’m so sorry I hid all this from you, good job finding it all out on your own. Please don’t hate me for not telling the truth, I just wanted you both to be happy, you can understand that, right?”

Glenda blinked in astonishment and nodded slowly, eyes glistening with tears. They squeezed their father’s hand with a soft smile. 

“I’m not happy that you hid all this stuff from me, but I wanna know more, and this is a good start.”

————————————————————-

Glenda didn’t listen to true crime podcasts anymore. Instead, when they were bored, they’d sit down with their dad and listen to his stories from life in the eighties, gore and all.

#chucky #chucky series #childs play #bride of chucky #seed of chucky #charles lee ray #tiffany valentine #chiffany #glen ray #glenda ray #horror #fanfiction #human au

[rosyredlipstick]

I want to know ALLL the answers but 17 or 26? (Whichever you feel like answering you don’t have to answer both 😭😭😭)

17. What are your go-to writing snacks?

buffalo pretzel chips! although honestly im more of a drink writer, for example i am currently surrounded by a half-eaten cookie (burnt. i hate my stove.), a dunkin iced coffee, my water bottle, a mug of mint tea, an unopened black cherry seltzer, and a glass of aldi wine. so very many drinks. i will have to pee in approx. 5 minutes.

26. If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

ahhhh okay if i had to pick one it would probably be the moment i galaxy-brained the ritual twist during the slasher fic <3 it was very much NOT a part of the original plot (it was, in fact, come up with during the writing of chap 3 <3) and is the reason the fic is so long but its easily in the top 5 favorite scenes I've ever written :)

THANK YOU FOR YOUR ASK <3

#asks #crushed-oranged-angered #masked killer/jason voorhees was also originally a murder ghost before the ritual twist happened lmao #slasher fic