Tumgik
#i would just like to be in the loop please and thank you
morbidpaintz · 4 months
Text
if you use my art for fanfic covers can you please at least let me know or ask first! thank you
2 notes · View notes
amorremanet · 6 months
Text
Man, I realize demanding that someone execute their own brother is pretty fucked up, but He Xuan asking that of Shi Qingxuan still gave them more respect than Shi Qingxuan ever got from Shi Wudu [gave them the ability to make their own choice after finally being given the full story and enough context to actually have the capacity for informed consent, something that Shi Wudu spent centuries denying to Shi Qingxuan] and also, He Xuan did nothing wrong and should be allowed to do all the atrocities he wants, thank you for your time
#this bitch told me shi wudu loves his brother more than anything; i said 'bitch where'#she said 'under all his bluster and overbearing bullshit'; i said 'BITCH *WHERE*'#like………all tea all shade: shi wudu is actually the person who jiang cheng antis think they are hating#selfish? check. never listens? check. disrespects everyone's agency? check. no self-reflection on atrocities? check. learns nothing? CHECK.#i wish all jiang cheng antis a very 'please read tgcf so you can at least meet a character who actually does all the things you're saying'#literally every decision he made was fundamentally fucking selfish & he just gaslit himself into believing#that he did it—all of it—out of love for shi qingxuan#like how do you look at shi qingxuan—finally in the loop after centuries of being denied that chance—telling their gege#'no please let's pick the first option i would rather be a piteous wretch driven to madness by my own suffering than#live in a world where you died unnecessarily; we can make things right with he xuan AND both live; a miserable life is better than DEATH'#and shi wudu going 'lmao denied stop being a whiny little bitch and come chop my head off already you'll thank me for this later'#and walk away from that genuinely believing that this is a man who loves his brother. it's pretty clear to me that he does not.#love looks like a lot of different things and as far as i'm concerned this ain't one of them#also he xuan should be allowed to do all the atrocities he pleases thank u#kassie hush#mine: text#opinions for ts#wank for ts#idk? maybe? i'm being a hater so it probably counts
9 notes · View notes
stellamancer · 7 months
Note
hello! i read your fic (though we may) fall apart last night and just wanted to gush about how much i enjoyed it. 
it’s not often i get to read a fic from gojo’s pov that really moves me, but yours did just that. i know the main focus was reader and gojo but the way you delved into his character, the way he thinks, the way he feels, the way his past pushes him to act in this situation. i loved reading it!!!!!! and i love how you strung this connection between his past and present — i ached for him a little but it was so nice to see how far he’s come. the banter between them was also fun; gojo, no matter how he’s grown as a person, is still gojo in the end. i am so incredibly fond of him.
anyway, just wanted to say thank u for writing!!!!! and i’m glad i got a chance to read it. hope u have a great day ahead! :’)
hello ari!!
omg you are so sweet, i saw the tags you left last night and i was in awe and now i am in extra awe that you took the time to come and leave an ask!! on the next day even!!!! i'm crying. T_T
(i'm putting a read more because i kinda rambled lmao)
okay so, first, i have to agree that i also think that mappa legit spent half the budget on those eyes of his!! money well spent if you ask me LMAOOO
anyway! it makes me really happy to know that you felt moved by my fic!! while writing it i kept thinking that gojo was even MORE insufferable than usual since we could see more into his brain. in fact, my beta was like 'god he's so annoying' while he was going through this one LMAO.
when i wrote the first draft of this, i actually kind of struggled on how to include suguru because i knew i wanted to, but at the time i just wasn't sure how to do it. so i'm glad to know that the way i figured how to do it went over well!!
and the banter!! everyone always likes to comment on my banter (in general). gojo's a really good character to do back and forth with i think. it makes writing dialouge for him really fun. (also in this particular fic it adds a lot of levity i think… well, i think there's some kind of twisted levity to be found in his pov.)
but really, i should be the one thanking you!! for leaving such nice tags on my fic!!! for even coming back around to leave an ask!! my heart is FULL!!! i hope you don't just have a wonderful day, but a wonderful week too!!!
1 note · View note
maxtermind · 10 days
Text
my boy only breaks his favorite toys
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
★ : summary :: when he cheats on you ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: angst ★ : word count :: 5k ★ : a/n :: please remember that all of this is fiction! anyway, enjoy the angst <3 cheating is not a slip up but a statement and i will not be writing a part 2 where they get back together :) as usual requests are open for other endings if you're interested (maybe she ends up with someone else on the grid to make it hurt more lol). feedback is appreciated+!! ★ : gifs :: @\f1-stuff @\userhamilton @\slowestlap @\tyrannosaurus-maxy
Tumblr media
Max Verstappen
Tumblr media
Max and you had a pretty healthy work schedule. Thanks to your flexible remote work, you could travel with him and support him in person. But there were times when you were needed back at the home office but despite the distance, Max made sure to keep you in the loop.
From video calls, to texting whenever one was free, to random pictures shared, you were always pretty aware of what the other was doing. So imagine your shock when minutes after hanging up on a call after congratulating him on his win, you failed to get a hold of him before pictures of him started going viral.
But now, all of that seemed like a distant memory as you stared at the damning evidence on your phone. Pictures of Max, smiling and carefree, dancing with another woman in a crowded club, her arms wrapped around him possessively.
Your heart sank as you scrolled through the images, each one a painful reminder of the betrayal you never saw coming. And then, there it was, the blurry photo that confirmed your worst fears - Max and the other woman locked in a passionate kiss.
The world around you seemed to blur as well as tears welled up in your eyes, hot and bitter against your cheeks. Without thinking, you began to dial Max's number, your fingers trembling with a mixture of anger and desperation.
But each call went unanswered, each voicemail left unheard. With each unanswered ring, your heart broke a little more, until you could no longer bear the weight of your pain.
It was an hour later when you were in your bed, crying your eyes out when your phone finally lit up with Max's name, the screen casting a harsh glow in the dimness of your room.
As much as your head told you to hang up and let that be the final answer, you picked it up and whispered a low. ”Hi?” Your voice barely a whisper, choked with emotion.
”Y/N,” Max’s breathy voice came. It was enough to throw you off again and new tears gathered in your eyes.
”Where were you?” The words escaped your lips before you could stop them, raw with hurt and anguish.
”Baby…” Max's voice wavered, and you could hear the weight of his guilt in every syllable. It spoke volumes, you knew what had happened and he knew that. ”I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
Your chest tightened at his words, the pain of his deceit threatening to consume you whole. And then, without warning, a strangled sob escaped your lips, the sound echoing in the silence of the room.
You could hear Max's sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, a sound that only served to intensify your grief. But you were beyond caring about appearances now, your heart laid bare for him to see.
”I trusted you,” you choked out between sobs, the words a bitter indictment of the love you had once shared. ”Why would you do this to me?”
How could the man that made you feel like the only girl in the world for him do this to you? Did he even love you or was he just a really good actor?
Your voice quivered with pain as you struggled to maintain your composure,”You've broken me in ways I didn't even know were possible.”
Max's voice wavered as he tried to find the right words to express his remorse,”I never meant to hurt you, it was the biggest mistake of my life.” 
The life he has made sure he spent with someone not you. His voice cracked further and you realized that he was also crying on the other end. ”I can't bear the thought of not having you in my life.”
There was a long pause, as if Max was searching for the right words to say. But what words could possibly undo the damage that had already been done, the trust that had been shattered beyond repair?
Your words cut through him, echoing the pain he had caused,”Did… did you even love me, Max?”
”Of course, I love you!” He spoke, his voice carrying a sense of hurt. As if questioning the audacity to even ask that and that angered you. It made you so mad because this was on him. He did this.
”I wish I could turn back time and make things right, I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Max's breath hitched as he spoke before you could. The wounds he had inflicted too deep to be healed with a simple apology. ”I never meant to make you doubt my love for you.”
And as you listened to his voice crack with emotion, you knew that there was only one thing left to do. ”I don't even recognize the person I fell in love with anymore.” You whispered with finality, your voice filled with a mixture of sadness and disbelief.
Was this really the man who had promised you a future filled with a family and laughter? The man who just made your heart bleed out?
Max caught on and rushed to get the words out,”Please, Y/N, don't hang up. I need you more than ever, I love y-”
You hung up because how dare he say that after what he did. He called you again and again after that and if you weren’t half dying in your apartment, maybe you could’ve scoffed at how the roles were switched.
However, all you could do was switch off your phone and wonder how the man who once kissed all your scars better, could leave deeper ones in their place. Leaving you to do the work to mend them all alone.
Lewis Hamilton
Tumblr media
It had all started the day you had foolishly decided to set up lunch to have the two most important people in your life, your bestfriend and your boyfriend, meet.
Lewis seemed genuinely enthusiastic about finally meeting the person who had been such a solid support in your life. Little did you anticipate that this innocent gathering would unravel into a scene of deception.
The signs were subtle at first. A quick exchange of numbers, a glance shared behind your back– easy to dismiss as innocent. But why would you look for such signs? When it included your most trusted humans on the planet?
But then came the slips, the accidental mentions of knowing each other's whereabouts better than you did.
”I don't think she'll pick up, she said she had an afternoon meeti-” Lewis caught himself on time before shrugging and ending with a: ”She posted it on her instagram, did you miss it?”
You laughed it off though it irked you. You were just glad that they were close before...
After an especially tiring day, you finally entered your house. Surprised to see the sitting room empty, where Lewis waits for you every time he's home early.
You sighed, instinctively petting Roscoe before moving inside the house. Desperate for a shower and clean clothes to get the day's stench off of you.
So imagine your shock when you walked into your bedroom,to discover Lewis and Rachel entwined in your bed, their bodies exposed and vulnerable. In your bed.
It took a second for you to process it while they both scrambled to get their clothes on. You just stared in disbelief while Rachel cried on the bed under covers and Lewis frantically wore his clothes while saying… something?
You felt like you were underwater for a second because you saw his mouth moving before his words started registering and tears started to pool in your eyes. The pain felt tangible, like a weight pressing down on your chest, as you confronted the unthinkable reality of their infidelity.
”Baby, let me explain. Ple- Please, this isn't what it looks like... I-”
You tore your eyes away from him before looking over at Rachel who was crying because she probably understood exactly what was happening.
You wanted to ask what exactly Lewis thought was going on but decided not to because your throat was closing up. The image of them together was burned into your brain. You just shook your head as tears fell from your eyes before turning around and walking out of the room.
As Lewis desperately jumbled to dress himself, his hands fumbling with buttons and zippers, he pleaded with you, his voice cracking with desperation.
”Y/N, please, you have to listen to me. This isn't what it looks like, I swear,” he implored, his eyes wide with panic as he reached out to touch your arm, but you flinched away as if his touch burned. Feeling disgusted and deceived.
”What do you mean it's not what it looks like?!” you finally managed to choke out, your voice trembling with damage and betrayal. ”I come home to find you two... in our bed, na- naked!”
Lewis's face contorted in anguish, his mind racing for the right words to say, but nothing seemed adequate in the face of your devastation.
”It's... it's a misunderstanding, Y/N, I promise,” he stammered, his voice strained with emotion. ”Rachel and I... we didn't plan for this to happen. It's just... things got out of hand, and we never meant to do you wrong.”
You shook your head in disbelief because you didn’t know what else to do truly, feeling as if the ground had been pulled out from beneath you. ”How could you do this to me, Lewis? I thought you… that you loved me,” your voice turned in a whisper.
All the times he had discussed the future rushed through your mind. He wanted to retire and repeatedly told you how he wanted to marry you. Your hands trembled as you suddenly remembered asking Rachel to be your bridesmaid.
Suddenly, the pressure on your chest got worse.
Lewis's eyes pleaded with you, his voice barely a whisper as he struggled to find the right words. ”I don't know, Y/N. I don't know what came over me. I love you, you have to believe me. Please don't leave, we can work through this together.”
But his words fell on deaf ears as you turned away from him, the pain in your heart too raw to bear. ”I trusted you, Lewis. I trusted both of you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.
As you moved towards the door, every step heavier than the last, Lewis's voice trembled with desperation, his hands reaching out to grasp yours, pleading for your attention.
”Y/N, please, don't leave,” he begged, his voice cracking with raw emotion. ”I messed up, I know I did, but I love you. Please, let me make it right.”
You paused, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. ”How can you say you love me after what you did?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, thick with pain.
And with that, you turned away, leaving behind the shattered remains of the life you had once shared, the echoes of Lewis's pleas fading into the emptiness of the night. Swearing to never put your trust in anyone else ever again.
Carlos Sainz
Tumblr media
You had sworn off of relationships for so long after your last one that it was honestly a miracle, as your friends and family put it, that you agreed to go out with Carlos. But he was the perfect gentleman to you. The person who gave you hope for a better future. Giving you hope that maybe all the ‘cheesy’ discourse was for you too.
He knew how you were hurt the last time and reassured you about how special you were to him and how you were always enough. Enough for him.
It slowly became a running joke once you guys hit the two year mark. You were finally at a stage where you had a loving partner that you could trust blindly.
So to say that you were blindsided would be an understatement…
Your fingers trembled as you scrolled through Carlos's phone, your heart racing with each new message that appeared on the screen.
You never thought you'd be the type to snoop, but the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach had become too much to ignore. He was so distant lately and so secretive about his phone, it was slowly killing you.
There it was, undeniable proof staring back at you in blue and white. Messages from an unknown number, filled with suggestive language and promises of secrecy. Your breath got caught in your throat as you read through the damning evidence, your heart sinking with each word.
‘Hey babe, can't wait to see you tonight ;) xoxo’
The message hit you like a punch to the gut, your mind reeling with disbelief. How could Carlos do this to you? You thought you had something special, something worth fighting for. But now, all those hopes and dreams lay shattered at your feet.
You tried to push down the rising tide of emotion, to find some innocent explanation for what you were seeing. But deep down, you knew the truth – Carlos was cheating on you.
When he emerged from the bathroom, you were waiting for him, phone in hand and tears in your eyes. And as you looked into his eyes, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again.
”Carlos,” you whispered, the weight of your words heavy in the air as he stepped into the room, his tousled hair and relaxed demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you.
You weren’t really sure why you weren’t screaming and thrashing things around already. It was like you were frozen on the spot.
”What's wrong?” he asked, concern etched into his features as he took in your tear-streaked face and the phone clutched tightly in your hand. Though, when you looked at him, all you could see was how he was your everything. How you had given him your everything.
And you still weren’t enough.
You struggled to find the words, to articulate the emotions coursing through you. ”I found... I found something on your phone,” you finally managed, your voice trembling with emotion.
Carlos's expression faltered, his eyes flickering with uncertainty as he took a hesitant step closer. ”What do you mean?” he asked, his voice tinged with apprehension.
You took a shaky breath, steeling yourself for the confrontation to come. ”Messages,” you began, your voice barely audible as you held up the phone, displaying the incriminating evidence for him to see. ”From someone... someone you've been seeing behind my back.”
Carlos's eyes widened in shock as he stared at the screen, his hand instinctively reaching out to take the phone from you. ”Y/N, I swear, I can explain,” he stammered, his voice tinged with desperation. Why was he reaching for the phone and not your hand?
But the words fell on deaf ears as the full weight of his betrayal hit you like a ton of bricks. ”Explain?” you echoed, your voice trembling with disbelief. ”How can you even explain this, Carlos? How could you do this to me?”
He reached out to touch you, to offer comfort or reassurance, but you recoiled, the sting of his infidelity too raw and painful to bear. ”I trusted you,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face as you backed away from him. ”How could you-”
Can love like this be lost too? You’ve been on your knees begging the universe to grant you one love that wouldn’t be snatched from you. Thinking all your prayers had been heard only for him to do it too.
Carlos's expression crumbled as he watched you retreat, his own anguish mirroring yours. ”I never meant for this to happen,” he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. ”Please, Y/N, give me a chance to make things right.”
As Carlos pleaded with you, his words heavy with desperation, you couldn't help but feel a pang of doubt. His promises of love and devotion clashed with the evidence on his phone, leaving you torn between the man you thought you knew and the painful truth staring back at you.
You met his gaze, seeing the desperation etched into his features as he struggled to make you believe him. ”Can you hear me?” he implored, desperation lacing his words. ”You are always enough for me. Please, you have to believe me. I love you more than anything, Y/N.”
His words pulled at your heartstrings, the sincerity in his voice almost convincing you to give him another chance. But deep down, you knew that trust once broken was not easily repaired.
You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his plea bearing down on you. ”I hear you,” you replied softly, nodding through your tears, your voice tinged with sadness. ”But it's not that simple, Carlos. I want to believe you, but...”
Carlos's grip on you tightened, his body pressing against yours as he sought solace in your embrace. ”Please, don't leave,” he whispered, his voice filled with desperation. ”I'll do anything to make this right, to prove to you that you're the only one for me.”
Tears welled in your eyes as you pulled away, the pain of betrayal still raw and agonizing. ”No,” you murmured, your voice barely audible above the sound of your breaking heart. ”You did to us. You made me believe… I'm leaving. This is goodbye.”
With that, you turned and walked away, leaving Carlos standing alone in the wreckage of your brutally murdered relationship.
Charles Leclerc
Tumblr media
You had rushed back home because for the first time in what feels like forever, your boyfriend was back home. Charles was a man of many charms. Despite being with him for so long, he still had you blushing and getting butterflies every time he was around.
He was busy when you got home so you decided to wash up but as you paced back and forth in the living room, your heart racing with anxiety, you didn’t know what to do to figure out what exactly Charles was doing.
Charles had been on the phone for what felt like hours, his voice hushed but urgent as he spoke to someone on the other end of the line. Normally, you wouldn't think much of it, but something about his tone tonight had set off alarm bells in your mind.
You tried to focus on a book, anything to distract yourself from the gnawing feeling of unease in the pit of your stomach. But every word you read seemed to blur together, your mind consumed with worry.
Finally, you couldn't take it anymore. With trembling hands, you set the book aside and made your way to the kitchen, where Charles was still on the phone.
”...I can't risk it tonight,” you heard him say, his tone strained ”She's coming home soon, and I don't want to risk it.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Who was he talking about? And why did he sound so nervous?
Curiosity getting the better of you, you crept closer, straining to hear the other end of the conversation.
”...I know, I know,” Charles continued, his voice growing even more frantic. ”But I can't keep doing this. It's not fair to her, and it's not fair to you.”
Your blood ran cold at his words. What did he mean, ‘not fair to her?’ And who the fuck was he talking to?
Before you could process it all, Charles abruptly ended the call and turned to find you standing in the doorway, your eyes wide with shock and hurt.
”Y/N,” he started, his voice wavering as he took in your expression. ”I... I didn't realize you were there.”
You struggled to find your voice, your mind racing with a thousand questions. ”Who were you talking to, Charles?” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.
Charles' eyes flickered with guilt as he shifted uncomfortably under your gaze. ”It's... it's nothing, Y/N,” he stammered, but you could tell he was lying. ”Just a friend.”
But you weren't buying it. Not after what you had just heard. ”A friend?” you repeated, your voice rising with anger and hurt. ”Is that what you call my replacement?”
Charles' face paled at your accusation, his eyes widening in shock. ”Baby, it's not what you think,” he protested, but you could hear the desperation in his voice. He looked so scared, as if he knew he was gonna get caught up into lies.
”Then what is it, Charles?” you demanded, your voice trembling with emotion. ”Enlighten me.”
He hesitated, his gaze flickering away from yours as if unable to meet your eyes. ”It's... it's complicated,” he finally admitted, but his words offered little comfort.
”There's nothing complicated about cheating on someone you claim to love.” You were trying to compose yourself, not show him how deeply his words had cut you but your hands were trembling and your voice was cracking. Face pale and eyes glassy.
Charles winced at your words, his guilt written plainly across his face. ”You’re the only person I love,” he insisted, his voice barely above a whisper. ”It's just... things got out of hand.”
You felt like you had been punched in the gut. How could he stand there and try to justify his betrayal? How could he expect you to forgive him after this? Why the fuck was he the one looking distort?
”I trusted you, Charles,” you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. He shouldn’t be expecting you to treat him as a victim too when he was the one guilty. ”I thought we had something special.”
Charles' expression softened, his eyes brimming with remorse. ”We do, Y/N,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. ”I love you, more than anything. Please, you have to believe me.”
But love now felt like a distant memory, tarnished by his infidelity. ”How can I believe anything you say after this?” You scoffed bitterly. Angry at yourself for crying in front of the man who has probably been sleeping with someone else for months now.
Charles reached out to you, his hand trembling as he brushed a tear from your cheek. ”I'll do anything to make it up to you, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. ”Just give me a chance to prove it.”
You whispered, your voice heavy with resignation,”There are no second chances for cheaters.”
Lando Norris
Tumblr media
Because of multiple torments inflicted by past lovers, you were always resistant to fall head first in any relationship. Hesitant to give your heart knowing recovering was going to be the absolute worst.
Comes in, Lando. The man who broke through all your barriers, took down the walls you put around yourself and had you love struck in a matter of time.
For a moment, everything was amazing. He was the best person you could've asked for. He looked at you as if you put the stars up in the sky.
Who could've thought?
Who could've thought that the same fucking man would have you breaking down at a family event in front of everyone.
The room buzzed with conversation as you sat at the dinner table, trying to ignore the growing tension in the air.
Lando's hand found yours under the table, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your palm. ”Are you okay?” he whispered, concern etched in his voice.
You forced a smile, nodding faintly. ”Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed,” you murmured, hoping to brush off your unease. Why was everyone looking at you with such pity?
But Lando's gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress. ”You know you can talk to me, right?” he said softly, squeezing your hand gently.
Before you could respond, a sudden hush fell over the room, drawing your attention to the commotion across the room. You followed Lando's gaze, your heart sinking as you saw him make eye contact with one of your cousins, their faces morphing as if they were having a whispered conversation.
”What's going on?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as dread coiled in the pit of your stomach.
You have seen this scene before and you did not like where this was going. Feeling overwhelmed, you got up and excused yourself from the table. Slightly glad to have Lando do the same.
This was all a confusion. You repeated in your head before standing outside the venue, away from distressed eyes and hushed gossips.
Lando's grip on your hand tightened, his expression unreadable as he turned to face you. ”I... I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice strained with emotion.
Your heart plummeted as you watched him fidget, every step feeling like a weight bearing down on your chest. ”What is it?” you asked, your voice trembling with apprehension.
Lando hesitated, his eyes darting away from yours as if unable to meet your gaze. ”I... I don't know how to say this,” he began, his voice faltering.
Just then, your cousin appeared at his side, her expression a mix of guilt and defiance. ”Y/N, we need to talk,” she said, her voice tinged with remorse.
They exchanged another glance and something in your mind stopped working.
Your breath caught in your throat as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, the truth hitting you like a sledgehammer to the chest. ”No...” you whispered, the word barely a breath as tears welled in your eyes.
Lando reached out to you as you took a step away from them, his voice a desperate plea. ”Please, let me explain,” he begged, his eyes brimming with regret.
But you pulled away, the sting of deceit too raw and painful to bear. ”Not you too,” you choked out, your voice breaking with emotion. ”How could you do this to me?”
There were no answers, no explanations that could erase the pain of their breach of trust. They both just watched as you started crying softly. Apparently everyone in your family knew too.
As tears welled in your eyes, Lando's pleading voice cut through the air. ”Y/N, please, just give me a chance to explain.” His hand reached out towards you, but you recoiled, his touch now feeling like a betrayal.
”Explain what?” you retorted, your voice laced with disbelief. ”That you cheated on me with my cousin?”
Lando's eyes widened in panic but instead your cousin's voice broke through the tension, filled with regret. ”Y/N, I'm so sorry. It was a mistake, it shouldn't have happened.”
Anger surged within you at her words. ”Sleeping with my fucking boyfriend was a mistake?” you shot back, incredulous at the audacity of her apology.
Lando stepped forward, his expression a mix of remorse and longing. ”I never meant to cause you any pain, Y/N. Please believe me,” he pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion.
Your trust had shattered along with your heart. 
His voice quivered as he spoke again, desperation lacing his words. ”I love you, Y/N. I made a stupid mistake, but it doesn't change how I feel about you.”
But love now felt like a distant memory, tarnished by their adultery.
”If this is love, I want no part of it,” you declared, your voice filled with anguish. Knowing deep down that you meant it.
Your cousin reached out to you, her eyes brimming with tears. ”Y/N, please, you have to understand...” But understanding felt beyond your reach, lost in a sea of pain and betrayal.
”Understand what?” you cried out, your voice breaking with emotion. ”That my own sister betrayed me with my… my boyfriend?”
Lando's plea echoed in the air, his voice thick with desperation. ”I'll do anything to make it up to you, Y/N. Just give me a chance.”
But the chance had already been squandered, lost in the wreckage of their infidelity.
”You had your chance, Lando, and you blew it.” You wish you could be angry and put them to their places but your chest was hurting so much that it was almost dizzy.
You felt sick and on the verge of passing out.
”I'll do anything to make things right, Y/N. Just tell me what to do.” But there was nothing they could do to undo the damage that had been done, no words or actions that could mend the broken pieces of your heart.
They have insulted you in front of your whole family.
”There's nothing you can do to fix this, Lando. You've ruined everything,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you turned away, the weight of their betrayal too heavy to bear.
As you walked away, their voices faded into the background, drowned out by the deafening roar of your own heartbreak. And as you stumbled out into the night, the stars above offering no solace, you vowed never to let anyone break you again.
Tumblr media
©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
1K notes · View notes
luveline · 8 months
Note
could you please write something where maybe bombshell!reader hears one of the team members teasing about how she’s torturing spencer and she kinda backs off with the flirting and maybe it’s his turn to hold her hand and call her cute names because even though he always says he doesn’t mind, maybe he does and he just doesn’t want to tell her
tysm for requesting, 1k
Spencer's hair is brown silk in the sun. You bite your tongue to hold in a compliment rearing to come out, saccharine and completely true. Looking sweet, Spence. 
You love to compliment him and especially while Hotch is out of earshot. He and Derek play pairs against two agents from a different unit, their tennis racquets a shiny FBI navy. You start to speak and bite it back —a memory flashes, a shouting stop sign. 
You'd been teasing Spencer as he left the room, something about his indecisive hair. He's cut it shorter but left his curls without product, and you love it. 
Poor guy, Emily'd murmured, lips set against the rim of her coffee cup. 
What's the matter with him? you asked, perplexed. 
Nothing, just that he spins into a total meltdown every time you guys are within ten feet of each other. He must be exhausted.
She was joking and you know that, but something deep down worries she's right. It's not fair for you to keep winding him up… Especially when Spencer might be going along with you because he isn't sure how to say no. 
What if you're forcing yourself on him? 
You're sitting together on a small blanket in the grass with Anderson and a few of the other less competitive BAU agents. You bring your bottled iced tea to your forehead to cool down, condensation wetting your hot skin. The top of your head feels as though it has the full concentration of the sun beating against it. 
Spencer looks up at your movement. He's been reading a book for pleasure, or so he says, so he isn't going a mile a minute but he's still way faster than the average Joe. "Do you want to go find some shade?" he asks. 
"You look comfortable," you say, putting your iced tea aside.
Which is to say, I don't want you to come with me, it would disrupt you. Spencer nods and turns to the brown leather of his familiar satchel, popping the buckle open to dig around inside. 
"Do you think this would be okay?" he asks, bringing out his baseball cap. 
The fabric is starchy and the brim stiff as you accept it and wedge it over your head. You don't immediately cool, but your heart spins strange loops. "Thank you," you say. Thank you, handsome, gorgeous, baby, all beg to be said. 
Spencer stays looking at you for longer than normal. 
"Do I have something on my face?" you ask, swatting self consciously at your cheeks. 
"Nothing. You look really pretty," he says. 
"Thank you." Another loop. You point at his book, fingertip hitting a creamy page with a small thud. "Is this any good?" 
"I think you'd really like it, it feels like that last book I borrowed from you, and you loved that. They're very similar. I can lend it to you when I'm done." 
"Don't rush it for my sake."
Spencer gives you a private smile. "I won't. Just because you could watch a movie at two times speed doesn't mean you should." 
Your returning smile isn't half as nice. No shared lightness, no bright eyes. You're feeling awkward and unhappy —you really like Spencer. Like, you think you could be happy together for a long long time sort of like. He's charming and sweet and no one is ever as kind to him as he deserves, which is why you're trying to be kind now by putting distance between you.
You'll be brash forever. You can't change that, and Spencer doesn't need the stress of dealing with you, not on top of everything else. 
His smile fades as yours does. Quiet, without fuss, he scoots back on the picnic blanket, putting you knee to knee. The subtle muscle of his arm presses to yours and his hand wraps gently around your wrist as he dips his head down, his cheek touching briefly to your shoulder. 
"I know it's nice, but if the heat is getting to you we should go inside," he says, his fingers sliding across your palm to slot between your own. He squeezes your hand. "Heat stroke isn't obvious at first. Do you feel woozy?"
You stare at your twined fingers. He surprises you again, being this soft with you, and being uncharacteristically forward. Or maybe not uncharacteristic at all; Spencer won't let something like timidity stop him from comforting someone that needs it. 
"Spence," you murmur, closing your eyes, face angled down. 
"What?" 
"I'm sorry if I… If I've been messing you around. But I don't think this is a good idea." 
"What's not a good idea?" 
You can't make yourself say it. Instead, you rub the back of his hand, more for your own comfort than his, your tongue like a useless lump in your mouth. 
"You're sorry? Are you sure you're okay?" Spencer asks, no heed to the people sitting with you as he lets go of your hand to put his arm behind your shoulder like a shield. 
"I don't want to torture you," you say. 
Your friends love that word. You torture Spencer with your flirting and your easy affection. 
Spencer makes a face, eyes squinting and nose wrinkled. "They're just kidding when they say that. Emily, Morgan, they like making fun of me, it's like, sibling bonding or something. They don't say it because there's actually something to feel sorry about." He lowers his voice, bashful but sincere at once, "If you're torturing me, I guess I'm a masochist." 
You laugh without thinking, a breathless, girlish sound you'd regret if you had the wherewithal. "You're a masochist?" you ask. 
He takes the brim of your borrowed hat and pushes it up to unobstruct the view of your eyes. 
"If that's what it takes," he says. A hint of wryness creeps into his otherwise smooth tone. 
Despite his brave talk and his steady eye contact, his face has started to blush. A rosy hue kisses the tops of his cheeks and his nose, a dusting of pink splodges stark against his paleness. The curve of his lips seems extra tantalising now. He's very, very pretty. 
And he doesn't mind stepping in to take the reins when you're unsure of things. 
"We really should sit in the shade for a bit," he says. "Let's get drinks from the gazebo. Yeah?" 
You're halfway through a nod when he kisses your cheek too quickly for you to respond. You follow him to the gazebo without any more reluctance, weaselling your hand back into his, and attempt to pull another kiss from him.
4K notes · View notes
feyascorner · 4 months
Text
jealousy looks good on you
summary. Astarion realizes you're jealous after a night out at the tavern where he must gather information from another. And him being him, teasing ensues.
warnings. fluff, idk just two idiots doing idiotic things, Tav here is good oriented, sorry to evil tav players,,,
pairing. Astarion x GN!reader
a/n. I love morons in love,,
You were not jealous. Especially not of that damned elf practically hanging off from his arm.
You'd encountered devils, walking brains, even the greatest of beasts during your adventures, yet not once have you felt nothing but utter annoyance. Like an obnoxious fly circling your head insistently no matter how much you swatted at it.
You'd never considered yourself possessive of your dearest companion. Sure, you were protective of him at times, but so were you with the rest of your group, especially knowing what each person had gone through in their lives. And while being lovers might've given an extra kick to that boundary, by no means were you excessively watching him like a hawk.
But now here you were, not watching him, but her.
Information, you remind yourself. You'd nearly forgotten why he was even tolerating her behavior in the first place, because even if he was flirtacious by nature, his tendencies narrowed down towards only you after your conversation at Moonrise. You knew he dreaded this as much as you, but the information that woman had was a must—and Astarion had insisted he could help out.
You were sincerely regretting even entertaining the idea now.
She has her chest pressed flush to the toned muscles of his arm, making sure he’s aware of what qualities she has to offer. With a bat of her lashes, she lets out a shrill laughter when he mumbles something, playfully hitting his chest as if it's the funniest thing in the world.
You’ll show her something really fucking funny at this rate—
Patience, you remind yourself. Breathe. In and out. This is unlike the qualities of a hero trying to save the city. Shooting an arrow at the woman would do nothing but cause panic. Why did you even want to get so violent in the first place? A little minor bump in the road shouldn't make you this angry, should it?
You seriously don't want to watch anymore—especially when he leans toward her to whisper something in her ear and she lets out that rage-inducing giggle again—so you down the rest of your alcohol and run a hand down your face.
You don't notice his eyes glancing at you every few moments, too busy calming your nerves.
A few minutes later, you hear the scrape of his chair pushing back and a rush of relief floods you when you see him stand, face content in a way that tells you the mission was successful. You thank the Gods above because any more of this and you certainly would've committed some sort of crime-
The woman takes his hand, shaking her head before giving him a sly smile. The breaths you took earlier seem to have no effect the second she motions towards the door, her fingers still wrapped around his hand like a death sentence.
You should trust him, you think.
He's had more experience in this than anyone else.
You can't see his expression, but the second you see hers drop, you're suddenly moving across the entire tavern. He whips around when he hears your steps and the relief on his face almost calms you. Almost.
“Hello, dear,” you accentuate. And though your eyes are trained on his, you're more focused on the woman from your side view. “Ready to leave? Sorry I had to catch up with a friend earlier.”
He raises a brow for a moment, and you suspect it’s because you were never supposed to even be in the plan. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze and look away, embarrassed to have let your emotions alter the mission so much—but he seems more than pleased. In fact, the bastard grins.
“Yes, my love,” he snickers, snatching his arm away from the woman and looping the other around the waist. “Let us hurry. I cannot stand another moment being unable to ravage you under such—prying eyes.”
Somehow, your face gets hotter.
Before the woman can respond (though you doubt she even wanted to), he's leading you out the tavern into the cold air of the streets for a much needed breather on your part. You're almost certain you won't be going to that tavern for a while.
“‘My dear’?” he mimics, his lips stretching wider. “I’d believed I was the one with pet names in our relationship. You'd seemed quite adamant on calling me by my given name after all. Had a change of heart?”
Your voice is a mumble as you retort. “Must be the alcohol.”
“Really? Because if I didn't know any better, and I do,” he stops the two of you around the corner of the building in an isolated spot, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’d think you were jealous back there, darling.”
“I was just worried about you,” you blurt in a hurry. “Otherwise I wouldn't have butt in and—”
“Oh, my sweet sweet love,” he laughs. “I could feel you glaring from across the building. And I'm sure I could've sworn to see you slam your goblet a few times. No need to be ashamed. Jealousy is quite normal, and I'm more than flattered.”
“I’m not—” you begin, but her face flashes in your mind again. The way she'd touched his arms, his chest, and you knew she'd never know him the way you do. But it didn't quell the annoyance flickering in your chest. He raises a brow expectantly for your answer, and you quietly lift your hand to his arm, dusting it off.
Dusting her off.
And finally, you accept it. “I’m going to burn those clothes.”
He snorts. “I’m sure there's more romantic ways of getting me naked, but this’ll have to do for now.”
“I will. Then I’ll bury the ashes somewhere.”
“Charming.”
You look at him, disappointed—not in him, but yourself. Before you can drown in your own thoughts, he lifts his fingers to caress your face, smiling. “There really was no need to be jealous, darling.”
“I know,” you mutter. “I just—seeing her practically begging for your attention pissed me off.”
“And there's the difference between you and her. If it's worth even comparing at all,” he says, planting a peck to your forehead. “She begs a hopeless cause while I beg for you.”
You roll your eyes playfully. “You don't need to beg me for attention.”
“I’m aware. I know how much you're fond of me and my gorgeous eyelashes.” You sigh at this. “But I must admit that a selfish part of me is a bit pleased by your reaction to that vile woman.”
“Why? This feels horrible.”
“Well, now you get a taste of what I want to do when I see you with that damned cleric,” he groans at the thought. “Yes, I am aware you two are the giddiest of friends, but whenever she puts her hands all over you for the sake of healing—”
You burst into a fit of laughter. “How else is she supposed to help?”
“I’m sure she can heal you from a safe distance away. Preferably twelve feet. Maybe more.”
Wordlessly, you calm your smile and press your lips to his, your fingers running through white curls. He holds you like you’re made of glass, gently.
The kiss is soft, even as you finally pull away. “Stupid vampire.”
“Silly darling.”
You don't complain when he pulls you closer for one last kiss.
2K notes · View notes
7ndipity · 2 months
Text
Shy
Yoongi x Reader
Summary: You’re desperately craving your boyfriend's attention, but are too shy to ask for it outright. Luckily, Yoongi knows what you want anyway.
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: +18 mdni, smut, swearing, unprotected sex(don’t do this pls), soft dom-ish Yoongi, brief mentions of insecurities, not proofread
A/N: Thanks @theuselessdaydreamingidiot for requesting this! I had so much writing this one, I hope you like it!
Masterlist
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
He had to be doing this on purpose.
Normally, Yoongi could read you like a book, whether that was knowing whether you’d had a particularly rough day or just what food you were craving, all you had to do was look at him and he would know what you wanted.
Which was why his current lack of response to your attempts to gain his attention was so frustrating.
The two of you hadn’t been able to see each other all week due to your work schedules, and to say you were starting to go a little crazy was an understatement. As soon as you got to his place, all you had been able to think about was jumping his bones. Normally, you didn’t consider yourself a particularly horny person, but being without your boyfriend for any extended amount of time definitely tended to make you extra needy.
It didn’t help that your boyfriend in question somehow managed to look so fucking hot all. the. time. Even the simple sweatpants and white tee combo he was wearing was enough to make you clench your thighs together with need in your current state.
You’d tried your best to ignore it through dinner, but once the two of you had cozied up together on the couch to watch an episode of a drama, you couldn’t take it anymore. You were hyper aware of the warmth radiating off of his body, his arm looped loosely around your waist, the scent of his cologne filling your senses and drawing you closer, tucking your face against his neck as the ache in your core grew stronger.
Fuck you wanted him so bad.
Usually, all you needed to do was just give a little hint that you were in the mood to Yoongi and he would take the lead for you, asking in a low voice if you wanted to make each other feel good, an offer that you always readily agreed to.
But tonight, nothing seemed to catch his attention.
You let your fingers dance over his skin, tracing little patterns over his arm, up his bicep to his shoulder and back again, trying to elicit a response from him, but all he’d done was tighten his other arm around your waist ever so slightly.
Deciding to try being a bit more direct, you shifted around in his hold, pressing teasing little kisses along the underside of his jaw, knowing it was one of his weak spots, hoping he would finally catch on to hint at what you wanted.
Yoongi hummed appreciatively, but his attention was still fully locked on the screen in front of you, relaxing further into the couch.
You drew back slowly, frowning in frustration as you studied his side profile.
Maybe he was just really interested in the show, maybe he wasn’t in the mood, you weren’t sure, but you felt too shy and awkward to ask outright.
Giving up, you slipped out from under his arm and stood up.
“Where’re you going?” He asked, finally looking up at you with a small frown.
“I’m tired, I think I’m just gonna go on to bed.” You lied.
“Are you sure?” He asked with a slight pout. “You want me to come with you?”
Yes please! “No, you stay and finish the show.” You pecked his cheek. “G’night, Baby.”
You quickly made your way down the hall to his room, not bothering with a light as you climbed into bed, curling onto your side away from the door, staring at the wall in frustration.
You don’t know why you hadn’t just said yes when he’d offered to come with you, maybe then he would’ve caught on if you’d tried again? Or maybe he was intentionally ignoring you as a way to tease you for your shyness with him.
You don’t know why you always felt so shy to initiate anything sexual with Yoongi, it wasn’t like your relationship was particularly new or anything, but everytime you even thought about saying the same things that Yoongi said to you, they sounded so awkward and unsexy, not at all like when he said them. When he said them, you felt your stomach drop in the best way, your knees turning to jelly as your heart rate picked up. In just a few words, he could completely turn you to putty in his hands, a skill you desperately wished you possessed at times like this. Instead you were laying in bed alone and irritated.
No more than five minutes had passed before you heard the bedroom door behind you open,
Yoongi’s footsteps padding softly across the carpeted room to the bed.
You heard him chuckle softly to himself before the mattress dipped under his weight, quietly sliding under the covers and shifting over till he was pressed against your back, draping an arm over your waist.
“Babe? Are you asleep?” He asked softly.
“ ‘m trying to.” You grumbled, brushing his arm off of you. “I thought you were watching your show?”
“I missed you too much.” He said, nuzzling his face in your hair. “It’s no fun without you.”
You didn’t respond, but he could sense you soured mood
“I’m sorry baby. Was I not giving enough attention earlier?” He wound his arm around your waist again, pulling you close as his lips trailed along your neck and shoulder, mirroring your actions from earlier.
You squirmed slightly against him, not wanting to cave so easily, but his wandering hands and warm breath against your skin flooded your core with arousal, your breath hitching and coming out unsteady.
“Let me make it up to you.” He murmured against your skin, his hand making its way under your shirt, fingers brushing over where your skin disappeared under the material of your sleep shorts.
Fuck, you were so weak for him.
“Please.” You breathed, arching closer to him.
You made a soft noise, something between a whimper and his name as he continued to leave a trail of kisses against the flushed skin of your neck as his fingers slipped under the waistband, creeping lower till they brushed your pubic bone, just shy of where you needed him.
You squirmed in his gentle hold, bordering on desperation now.
“Yoongi,” You pleaded. “Please.” You needed him, and you weren’t sure how much longer your sanity could hold out against his teasing touches.
“I got you, baby,” He assured you softly, retracting his hand. “I’ll take care of you.”
He gently rolled you over, caressing your face before bringing his lips to yours in a tender kiss.
You sighed in relief, looping your arms around his neck to keep him close as he shifted to hover over you, settling between your legs that fell open to accommodate him.
His grip on your waist tightened in surprise as your tongue delved into his mouth, swallowing down the sweet, almost inaudible groan that left him as your wet muscle tangled with his own.
God, you were addicted to the taste of him, light and sweet with a faint bitterness of the wine you’d drank at dinner.
His fingers dug into your thighs, dimpling the flesh as he ground his hips against yours, pressing his growing erection against your clothed core, your arousal soaking through the material of your shorts and making them stick to you slightly.
You don’t know when he removed his sweats, all you were aware of was his fingers hooking in the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down as you lifted your hips to help him remove them, leaving you both bare from the waist down.
“My sweet baby.” He hummed, leaving another trail of wet kisses down your throat as he brushed two fingers through your slick folds, making you hiss as he teased your throbbing clit.
“Fuck Yoongi, please!” You begged. You had lost all patience, shamelessly bucking against his hand to any sort of relief, and in turn breaking any resistance he held.
As weak as you might have been for Yoongi, he was even more so for you, willing to give you anything you wanted and more. You could ask him for the moon and he would find a way to technically give it to you.
Removing his fingers, he shifted position to align the tip of his cock with your entrance. You were so wet and needy already, he slipped into you easily without any prep, sinking in all the way to the hilt in one go, making your eyes roll back in pleasure at finally being filled.
“Fuck, you feel so good, Angel.” He groaned, watching the way your hungry cunt swallowed him so eagerly. He pulled back, rolling his hips into yours slowly, letting you feel every inch and vein of his cock as it dragged against your walls.
“Fuck Yoongi, faster, please.” You practically mewled, clinging to his shoulders.
It was almost embarrassing, how reactive you were, how fast you fell apart for him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, all you wanted was for Yoongi to fuck you properly.
The desperation in your voice sent a shot of electricity straight through Yoongi, making his cock twitch inside you as he immediately picked up the pace, plunging back into you quickly and setting a pace that had your toes curling.
His arms were braced against the mattress on either side of you, caging you in while your own hands clutched feebly at his back, nails scraping against his skin, leaving bright red lines and crescent marks in their wake.
Yoongi buried his face in your neck, groaning out with nearly every thrust, not bothering to try and muffle them as he knew they only spurred you further on as well, making you clench and spasm around him.
“F-fuck, Yoongi! I-I‘m close!” You managed to whine out,
“I know, baby, it’s okay.” Yoongi panted, kissing your neck. “Let go, I’ve got you.”
A few more thrusts of Yoongi’s hips were all that it took to tip you over the edge, a sharp ringing filling your ears as your high crashed over you, flooding your senses and causing your muscles to contract and spasm in bliss.
Yoongi followed almost immediately after you, spilling deep inside you with a broken groan, body going stiff over yours as he shuddered through the aftershocks.
He half collapsed on top of you, rolling to the side to avoid crushing you as you both lay there, chests heaving as you tried to catch your breath.
“Feel better?” He asked breathlessly.
“Yeah,” You replied weakly. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” He grinned, leaning up to kiss your cheek. “Though, you know, if you wanted sex, you could just ask. You don’t have to keep teasing me till I say something.”
“So you were paying attention earlier!” You exclaimed, sitting up to look at him. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I was waiting to see if you would say something first,” He said, sitting up as well. “But then you went off to sulk instead.”
“I wasn’t sulking.” You pouted.
“Yes you were.” He smiled softly, wrapping his arms around you. “What I want to know though is why? Why won’t you ever initiate sex with me directly? You always kinda dance around it till I make the first move.” He looked down at you curiously.
“I don’t know.” You looked down, feeling your face heat up. “I guess I just feel kinda shy.”
Yoongi let out a short burst of laughter.
“Babe, you are one of the least shy people I’ve ever met!” He laughed. “I’ve seen you make friends in the middle of the grocery store after having a full blown debate with someone over the validity of skim milk!”
“That’s different! This is you and me, it’s feels embarrassing!” You buried your face in his chest, earning another chuckle from him. “What am I supposed to do, just jump you as soon as you walk in the door and say 'I need you in me or I’ll die'?”
“I mean, that would be really hot,” He smirked, earning a weak smack from you. “But seriously, you don’t need to feel embarrassed with me. Anytime you’re in the mood, just tell me. Hell, we could even make up a codeword if that makes you feel better.” He offered.
“What, like ‘Pineapple’?” You asked, incredulously.
“Sure, if that’s what you want. As of now, Pineapple means sex.” He announced, making you burst into a fit of laughter of your own.
“You’re insane!” You giggled.
“Only for you.” He said with a grin. “I mean it though, I want you to feel comfortable talking to me about stuff like this.”
You nodded, letting you head rest back against his chest.
“Thank you.” You said. “For not making fun of me.”
“I would never.” He said seriously, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
You drifted off to the sound of Yoongi’s heartbeat, completely and utterly content.
You did, however, wake up the next morning to several containers of fresh pineapple in the refridgerator.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”
“I think I’m hillarious.”
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz
1K notes · View notes
diejager · 4 months
Note
more eldritch:konig X his darling mermaid, please & thank you
Saccharine and Monstrosity pt.2
Tumblr media
Pairing: Eldritch Horror!König x mermaid!reader
Cw: kidnapping, manipulation, DARK FIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, breeding kink, protective König, hunting, oviposition, tentacles, eggpreg, stomach bulge, forced breeding, forced pregnancy, possessive behaviour, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 2.6k
Tumblr media
Prev
You hadn’t seen the sun in a while, neither had you gone hunting, nor seen your parents. You missed the freedom you had, swimming and racing the others mers your age through the coral reefs, that mundane, but fun activity you did once in a while when everyone gathered at the same spot.   
“Please, König, I just want to lay in the sun!”
“Nein, the outside world is dangerous, Schatz, ” his tone seemed apologetic, eyes cast down, avoiding your tearful eyes that gleamed beautifully from the bioluminescent plants, “I cannot.”
That was what he always told you, his words repeated on themselves, overlapping in your mind without holding much intent of substance to it. Why would it when all he told you was no? His excuses were getting old, they rarely changed over the few months he kept you in his cave, the little haven you grew to love now became a prison, a pretty cage to keep you locked away from the world you were born into. They always had an aspect in common: danger. He would say that it was too dangerous for you, that there were horrors living around his cave and wandering too closely to the edge you found him, the precipice of light and darkness that he stalked you from. If it wasn’t that, he’d push strongly that you could be taken away from him, caught and eaten by another Eldritch Horror that didn’t have the same obsession and favorability for pretty things like you. 
He slowly approached you, arms reaching out towards you to embrace you, his fingers finding the softness of your hips. Kneading the line between your skin and scales, thumb smoothing over your opalescent scales, the smooth surface of it that helped you swim as swiftly as you could. You were a quick, little mouse, able to outrun him if you put enough effort and intention in it to escape his limbs. You shuddered against him, looping your arms around him for comfort that he never kept from you, often reminding you that he loved you and that he would do anything for you —except give you back your freedom.  
You sobbed, a heart-wrenching cry slipping out of your pout, your glossy lips pulled down while pearly tears floated upwards, the density of your tears weighing less than the heaviness in his cave, a closed-off ocean of horror he painted over with enthusiasm and comfort. He whispered sweet words to you, smaller tentacles slipping under his hood to cradle your face. They acted as individual fingers, holding your face as if they were hands holding your chin up, curling under your jaw and eyes with the smooth side of his limbs, keeping the suckers away from your pretty face. He touched you so gently, careful to never break your skin or dirty the angelic image he had of you in his sickened mind. He wrapped himself around you, his thicker limbs latching onto you with the intention of never letting go, curling and looping around one another. The messy bundles kept you stuck to him as you whined, crying out the frustration and sadness you felt throughout your situation.
“Hush, don’t cry, mein kleiner Schatzi,” he wiped away your tears, and collected them between the suckers of his arms, watching them gleam with an opalescent shine, much like those of black mollusc shells. They were a spectacle, a beautiful thing coming from his precious mate, “We can go out when it is safe, ja?”
You nodded your little head, closing your eyes and nuzzling against his broad chest, the softness of his scarred skin that easily moulded to fit your shape. It was strange how easily he changed to fit your liking, to answer to your whims despite your protest or your reluctance. You couldn’t hate him, you simply couldn’t after all the things he did for you and how well he cared for you. Perhaps you’d fallen for him, falling so deeply in this hole of unwilling darkness and strange affection —your naivety working against your betterment and with his mind, dark and wretched. Despite your wails and frustrations towards König, he was all you had, all you had known for the past months, so you sought comfort and safety from him, unknowingly falling into his plan. 
You let him lead you away from the open entrance, down the wide gate of his - your - room to lay you down, unable to move from the confines of his many arms and the warmth he provided. König was warm, he’d always burned hot compared to the cold waters of the abyss, the swirling vacuum of freezing water that seemed to have no end and the surface that stayed cool despite bathing under the sun for half the day. You thrived on warmth, soaking it up to keep your metabolism going, to be able to function without crashing or slowing down, you needed it and you depended on König to keep you warm. 
He pressed down on you, his broad figure looming over your smaller and fragile one, casting a dark shadow with his sole presence. He brushed your hair away, the tip of his tentacle tickling your ear as he murmured temptation, his wide palms leaving your hips to trail down the curve of your navel, teasing the dilated hole of your core, blinking and oozing out slick. He pressed a finger in, listening to you mewl and squirm in his tight hold, your tail twisting and turning before ultimately bucking into his palm when he slid a second one in. He watched your pretty lips part in a gasp, eyes rolling back in pleasure, your lashes fluttering so prettily for him. You felt him everywhere, he was inside of you and all around you, his many arms working as extensions of his presence, teasing you with his little suckers, pulling and biting at you. 
“Let me ease your mind,” his mask rose over his nose, tentacles parting like curtains to kiss you. It was all teeth and aggression, his kiss turning into a sign of possession, marking you with his taste and scent. He didn’t have any lips, or lips similar to yours, they were flat, hidden by a moustache of tentacles, thinner and shorter than his other ones, “Help you relax.” 
They easily slipped into your mouth as he pumped you, fingers curling into the softer part of your cunt. You mewled, rutting back, walls clamping down on his fingers, their thick and rough textures doing you in with the flick of your swollen nub once he coached it out of its protective sheath. He slipped the straps of your bra down your shoulder, letting the cup sag enough to show your pretty nipples, perky and glistening, tempting him to kiss and bite at them. In his rush, he snapped your bra from the middle by the girth of his tentacles, curling around your tits to knead and play with your little nubs, covering them with a sucker and he pulled, the ride closing around it and pulled. You clamped down on him, your slick sticking to his hand as you burst, eyes rolled back so far that all you could see was the white. König admired you, his eyes gleaming with glee at your climax, helping you ride it out with slow pumps of his fingers. He watched your pupils dilate, steadily coming down from your high with laboured breathing.
“You look so pretty like this,” he smiled under his hood, his eyes creasing in the low light. They roved over your face, over your hooded eyes and your parted mouth, down the slope of your neck and the swell of your breasts, and ending at your cunt, your labia closed around two digits, slick and throbbing. “You drive me crazy, Schatz.”
He was panting, his body riled up with how much his many limbs were swaying, latching onto you and hungrily climbing over you. He mumbled incoherent words, his pretty blues turning a bright red, a bloody crimson that made you feel apprehensive, fear and anxiety spiking in your mind despite the pleasurable buzz. You peered down when you felt something nudge your finger-filled cunt, looking at a particular-looking tentacle. It was harder and slick, the tip cylindrical-like with a long shaft and covered in veins, much like the ones on his arm, bulging and throbbing. You were oblivious to its use, confused about the different shape, but once it moved, the leaky head enthusiastically dipping into you, you panicked. 
You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, the engorged head of his arm pushing into you, guided by a hand, pumping himself to spread the slick and pre that gathered around his cock. You keened, head thrown back when he bottomed out, the veiny girth of his cock throbbing inside of you. His cock rocked into you, pulling out until his tip lingered, and your labia stretched around his thick rod before he rammed in so suddenly. It rocked you as a whole, your smaller figure jerked back with every hard thrust, your cervix feeling the brutality of his strength and devotion. You screamed, writhing in his restrictive hold, cunt battered by a hard, leaky cock with a flared tip, bulbous and smooth. 
“Scheiße, you’re tight,” he groaned out through gritted teeth, feeling your walls stretch as wide as you could to welcome him despite his size and girth, your pussy becoming wet and sloppy with the amount of slick you produced. You pulsed around him, still sensitive from your last orgasm, clit and nipples swollen and twitching under his tentacles. He could feel everything, jolts sent down his arms followed by a euphoric sensation that ran through his mind, leaving him pussydrunk, mumbling out praises, “Du fühlst dich so gut an. Scheiße – so süß, so nass.”
You felt like you would burst, ploughed open by König’s cock arm, warm wall milking and sucking him deeper, coaxing him to fill you up with him. Your lover’s pace grew frantic, snapping harshly and deeply as if to leave a lasting presence in your innermost part, to mould your pussy into the shape of his cock and his alone, rendering you impossible to be pleasured by the sheer size difference between him and others of his kind. With a few precisely, but sloppy thrusts, he had you gushing around him, back arching - as much as you could with his strong grip - pussy clamping down on him as he fucked you into the soft algae-covered surface. You blacked out, euphoria filling your hazy mind, slick dripping down the sides of your tail and your nerves were set alight with blinding fires, burning through you so strongly. 
König swore lowly, his chest rumbling against yours, his cock throbbed and his arm stuttered, pace growing unsteady as the whole length of his arm pulsed with a load of cum. He gave one last thrust, roughly slamming into your gummy cervix, before a rush of cum shot out of his tip, flooding your womb with hot, white cum. It clung to the wall of your womb like glue, coating your cunt in the same adhesive and warm substance. He groaned, nuzzling his face in your bared neck, falling victim to his wandering mouth, biting and lapping at your shoulder and throat. His whole body shook, laboured breaths kissing your sensitive skin as something travelled through the length of his shaft, small bumps varying in size, from small pearls to big grapes, steadily moving towards the flared head of his cock. 
You sobbed when the first egg struggled against the entrance of your womb, breaking through the firmness of your soft entrance. It pained you, the forced pop into your virginal womb that wasn’t made to take in, but push out. Your cries were shushed by König, his reassuring words mixed with his heavy breathing that did little to dampen the pain he put you through. The first egg dropped into your womb, sticking to the walls, and another quickly joined it, plopping down beside it, weighing heavily by every egg, adding to the heaviness inside of you. 
“You’re doing so well,” he brushed away your tears, his thumb gently cradling your cheek, groaning and grunting at the rising eggs and his flared tip unravelling to latch onto your whole cervix, “Just a few more, ja? I am almost done.”
His “a few more” were more so dozens than anything, stuffing you until you bloated slightly. You were exhausted, limbs as heavy as your stomach did, eyes fluttering through your hazy sight, dancing on the edge of sleep and consciousness. Perhaps if you closed your eyes, falling asleep in this moment, you’d wake up from this as if it were a nasty dream, finding yourself in your little cave near the surface of the ocean. Perhaps this was all but a nightmare made up by your anxious and paranoid mind from all the stories you’ve heard from your parents and the elders. You were tired after all, sleeping wouldn’t be so bad to regain all the energy you wasted, and you hoped - that if this was your reality - that König would take care of you for doing this to you, for enrapturing you with all his madness and devotion.
Tumblr media
You still missed the sun, the warm rays when you laid beneath it, just over a rock, but it was a far memory, further than you were willing to confess. You’d already grown used to his overbearing presence, his lingering eyes and wandering limbs, keeping one wrapped around your waists, your wrist or on your back, you’d gotten used to ignoring him and his dark eyes, bleeding into your world like the blood that stained the waters when he caught a live fish to feed you. 
He fit you in his schedule, a routine he practised on a daily basis without a fault. You would wake up with a wail, coming all over his tentacle at least twice before he left you alone for the morning. He would go hunting after making sure that you were comfortable on your little perch, returning an hour or two afterwards with enough food for the whole day and a few shiny trinkets to try to appease your sorrowful heart. They were pretty, shimmering and glinting under the bioluminescent light, similar to the pretty pearls and seashells you would collect. Despite his intentions, it only reminded you of a life long gone, one that you unknowingly and willingly gave up when you took his hand that fateful day, condemning you to a life of darkness and solitude. 
Then he’d spend the day with you, caring for your round stomach, rubbing soothing circles on your aching body, gently working the kinks and knots out of you. He provided for you, feeding you, soothing your pains, courting you with gifts and loved you with the entirety of his sickened heart. Your every need was taken care of, your hunger fulfilled, be it shark meat (a rarity for your kind of mermaid), squid or tuna, and your excitement satisfied with his cock, fingers, tentacles or mouth, eager to stuff you full despite your womb being grossly swollen with his progeny. He was fiercely protective, letting you out once in your month-long gestation, giving you the freedom to wander close to the ridge with a long arm wrapped around your waist. He never let you wander too far from him and never without a piece of him attached to you, clinging onto you as if you two were a singular entity —you probably were at this point, his thoughts and words echoing in your mind against your reluctance to accept him. 
“Mein kleiner Schatzi,” he called, laying his head on your shoulder, his hood hanging over you. He forced you on his lap, snuggling up to you as he curled - loomed - over you while he shamelessly let his hands rove over your swollen stomach, feeling the grooves and bumps of his eggs, “You are very round. One more month and we will have little Satansbraten.” [Mischievous child]
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @candlewitch-cryptic @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @0-ramen-0 @dreamdiaries777 @under-the-dirt @ajadell @danielle143 @bubbletae7 @mushroompasta @skystreamchan @kaelysia @notspiders @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @lilpothoscuttings @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi
2K notes · View notes
blkkizzat · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
ღ 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞!𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 ღ
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐨𝐟 𝟐 (part 1)
18+ONLY MDNI
kizzatober series: Smooth Criminals
Kinktober Prompts: Clothed Male/Naked Female, Thigh Riding, Knife Play Synopsis: The university campus is being terrorized by a copycat Ghostface killer. As a popular sorority girl with a dumb jock bf, you are a prime choice to be his next victim especially given how he can't stop thinking about you. But you're no ordinary Sorority Girl bimbo, now are you? CW: AU college fic. blood obsession/hematolagnia, bimbo reader, murder, slight DV/SA mentions (from your npc jerk ass bf), unprotected sex, masturbation, LOTS of teasing/foreplay, slight age gap (roughly 21 vs 28) and dark content. NOTE: If death/killer romanticization related shit triggers you this is probably a fic to avoid because that is happening all through this bitch. I literally wrote a murder fluff smut fic lmfao. WC: 9.9 of 15.4k Lightly black fem coded (reader is an AKA lmfao) but no descriptors.
A/N: I had no idea so many people would be this hyped for Part 2. No really, I'm shocked! But It gets real here peoples! Lots of smut and dark shit below so please read the content warnings! I don't want no crying in the mentions and DMs cause y'all should know how out of pocket I am by now and I took it there lmfao.
If you riding with me still Thank You for putting up with my OCD bullshit and for all the support, comments and reblogs on Part 1! y'all real asf & ilysm
Enjoy!
Tumblr media
Previously:
“Whatever, let’s fucking go Y/N. We have an important party to throw later.” 
Dean grabs your wrist and jerks you away with you barely being able to grab your bag. 
Your stomach twists and you are at a complete loss for words but manage to flash an apologetic look at Choso while you are dragged off. 
However when your eyes meet he looks right through you.
The expression on his face is stone cold and it sends a chill up your spine.
Sigh. 
For the first time ever in your life you are miserable at a party. 
To say you had been excited leading up to today would have been an understatement. The initiation party after rush was one of the biggest events in the greek system and you had led the charge this year in planning the party.
Nevertheless, any cheerful enthusiasm you held had been trampled on by the disaster that had taken place earlier in the day with Choso. 
If getting out of going wouldn’t be more trouble than it was worth you would have faked being sick. It’s not like you hadn’t already stressed yourself into a headache.
Yet here you were suffering through, completely sober. Not even being able to bring yourself to drink away your problems.
How could you even pretend to enjoy yourself when your forced smile cracked as soon as the mental image of Choso’s icy expression looped through your mind?
Your chest got a little tighter each time you remembered and it frazzled your nerves.
Just about everyone and everything annoyed you right now.
Even the party: Hunter vs Hunted, one of your favorites, was soured. 
Typically the theme entailed girls dressed up as various exotic animals or woodland creatures and the boys dressed as safari game hunters or woodsmen. But this time around, no thanks to singular frat boy hivemind, they all got the bright idea to collectively cosplay as Ghostface.
Taking a new meaning on Hunter. 
They couldn’t carry knives on campus of course so they all carried around metal bats which they probably stole from the baseball team.
Sure, let’s all dress up as the masked serial killer while he is still on the loose. 
You rolled your eyes. 
The pilfered bats were a hazard waiting to happen too. You could only be thankful that the party was at Dean’s frat and not your own sorority so him and the rest of those idiots could fuck their own shit up once they inevitably got way too hammered and started swinging them around. 
You mostly just wished they hadn’t changed the plan without telling you. 
Then at least you could have dressed up in line with the horror theme and wouldn’t have had to wear this sexy Bambi costume which although skimpy, the fur parts made it way too hot to be wearing in a crowded party indoors. 
On edge and not being able to leave, you did the next best thing and sequestered yourself in the kitchen pantry. 
It was spacious and a lot cooler than the rest of the house.
You made yourself look busy in there by restocking snacks and making sure there was an ample supply of red cups ready to go around for the keg. 
When someone did notice you tucked away, you gave the best fake smile you could muster and made-up an excuse not to join in on whatever drinking game they were playing promising you would ‘catch up in a minute.’ 
Fortunately for you, most of your friends and sorority sisters were a bit too faded by this point to notice you missing and never joining in. 
Maybe a bit longer and you could slip out unnoticed? 
That was your plan at least until you felt Dean throw an arm over you from behind.
“There you are babe!”
Urgh.
The overwhelming ick and nausea you felt from him touching you rivaled your worst hangover. 
You immediately shrug him off.
“Come on babe don’t be like that. Get a freshman to take over.  We're gonna play rage cage.”
You threw Dean a wary look.
You try to tell him you aren’t in the mood but of course your selfish dickhead of a boyfriend ignores you.
Dean then proceeds to pull your arm and lead you out of the pantry through the kitchen. 
On a different day you probably would have just given in, easier to go along with the flow than cause an issue. Today however was different and the last thing in the world you wanted to do was play fucking rage cage with a bunch of horny frat boys who were just trying to get girls drunk enough to fuck.
“Goddamnit, Dean I said no!”
Your tolerance had boiled past its limits.
You forcibly snatch your hand back, knocking some empty bottles over on the counter in the process which come crashing down to the floor shattering into pieces. 
Your words and movements dripped with so much aggression you surprised yourself, Dean and the people around you who had turned to see what the commotion was. 
”No? No? You’re really telling me no Y/N? After you’ve been acting like a fuckin’ bitch all day since I crashed your make out session with that freak.”
Immediately self-conscious, your eyes darted around the crowd of people that had now turned their full attention toward you.
You hated confrontation and never wanted to be that couple fighting at a party.
Ducking down quickly, you begin to pick up the shattered pieces of bottled glass on the floor. 
The pounding of your headache against your temples grew feverishly and the harsh fluorescent kitchen lights started to make you feel faint, you hoped Dean would just let this go if you backed down. 
“Look, we’ll talk about that later, ok? Just please don’t be an asshole Dean, I really don’t feel good right now.” 
You pleaded with him, quietly trying to quell the situation. 
But true to his infamous asshole nature, Dean wasn’t going to let you off so easily. He wanted to humiliate you as he felt you humiliated him in front of his friends earlier with that nobody loser.
”Now, I’m the asshole?” Dean questioned to his frat brothers smugly.
“Hey, maybe I am for having a girlfriend like Y/N, who would slut herself out for a grade in front of the entire quad!” 
Dean had all but yelled that last part out. Your drunken clown of a boyfriend didn’t care if he caused a scene at your expense.  
Now you had the full attention of everyone in the kitchen. 
You took a shaky breath as you stood up and felt the crunch of broken glass beneath your heels.
An unfamiliar sensation of rage rises within you.
It really wasn’t in your nature to be angry even when you were upset, you mostly just cried but now you were pissed to say the least. 
He has some fucking nerve. 
Especially when you knew no one starting on the football team studied at all and were all automatically passed through whatever easy bullshit major they signed up for.
“Dean–”
You start yet pause for a moment, trying to keep your cool.
“–you know how hard I study.”
Twisting the proverbial knife in your back to wind you up further Dean continued.
“Yeah, Y/N That's what’s so pathetic about it. You get Bs. That pussy ain’t even good enough for an A. I would know.”
Collective gasps, snickers and whispers arose from around the kitchen. Word had spread of your fighting as more people gathered in the doorway.
Typically this is where you would have run off crying. However, you were exhausted mentally and emotionally. You had already cried for a good hour today while getting ready. 
The only emotions you had readily available to tap into was the hidden well of resentment and ire you held for Dean.
“And how would you even know what good pussy is Dean? You can’t last longer than two pumps, is it not all the same for you?”
You snapped back. 
Your fists had formed into a tight ball.
You are so enraged you can’t even feel the prick from the broken glass bottle still in your hand puncturing your skin.
How long has it been since you stood up for yourself? 
You can’t remember the last time you even fought with anyone like this but it felt good seeing the smug look on his face fall as his friends around him jeered and laughed.
“I know how to settle this Y/N.”
Dean mused as he yanked one of your sorority sisters nearby toward you.
“How ‘bout we ask Aaliyah then, eh? She got more than 2 pumps last weekend after you left the party to go chase after Ghostface–”
Your head snaps to your AKA sister in question, Aaliyah, who looked like she saw a cursed spirit as all the color drained from her face. Her eyes shamefully hit the floor before they met your gaze. 
She couldn’t even look at you which only further solidified Dean’s accusations. 
So Dean himself confirmed he’d been cheating on you? Cool. 
With your own Sorority sister, who you considered one of your besties since you both rushed together? 
Even better. 
Blood slowly trickled out of your hand to drip on the floor from how rigidly you held onto the glass but the small red puddle went unnoticed as your whole vision was already saturated with the color red when you looked at Dean who hadn’t even finished his disrespectful tirade. 
“–Although on second thought, it was probably an excuse for you to go suck off that loser freak TA of yours right?”
More heckles erupted from the crowd around you and you don’t think you have ever hated someone so much in your life as you hated Dean right at this moment. 
Sure you were upset with Aaliyah but your fury was purely focused on Dean. 
He had some nerve to start so much shit earlier over an almost-kiss when he was fucking your good friend behind your back. 
“And how fucking out of her mind was she then, huh Dean? Would she even remember? You pathetic piece of shit...”
You get directly in his face. 
“...that limp dick of yours fumbles orgasms like you fumble passes. That’s why we lost the big game last week. And guess what? That's also why we’re now OVER!”
Dean’s bulky build towers over you but he might as well have been 3 feet tall to you as the razor edge of your words eviscerate him.
“So who’s the fucking loser now Dean?”
Everyone in the room was stunned into silence by the venom dripping from someone they had never even heard raise their voice before.
You don't notice anyone else's reactions though as suddenly you became hyperaware of the large fractured piece of bottled glass cutting into you. 
Your eyes flickered back to Dean as your hand twitches.
For a fleeting moment you felt an inkling urge to drive the glass in your hand directly into Dean’s smug ass face.
Yet whatever dark fury burned in you was instantly snuffed out as you felt a flood of cold bitter beer splash down on you from Dean’s red solo cup. 
”Why don’t you cool off for a bit dear,” Dean cooed at you, mocking you and your now ruined Bambi costume as he and the frat boys around you started to roar with laughter.
That was it. 
You were done. 
Dean had succeeded in humiliating you. 
Any contention or further will to fight within you had dissipated the moment you were doused in beer. 
The glass in your hand drops onto the ground as a dull ache radiates from your wound that continues to seep blood onto the floor.
“I hope you realize this is the last time an AKA will grace this sorry ass frat for a party. I’ll see to that. Enjoy the rest of your night fellas!”
The icy air of your words contrasted with the perfect pageant smile you gave them and it unsettled those around you especially as they all notice the blood gushing from your hand. 
The crowd immediately parts as you leave. No one dares utter a word to you as you exit the party through the side kitchen door. 
You can feel your phone go off as you get a flurry of group texts and missed facetimes. Most of your sisters weren’t even in the kitchen to witness the scene.
You respond to the group chat to tell them just to stay and enjoy the party and turn your phone on ‘do not disturb.’
You just wanted to be alone. 
You’d deal with the fallout tomorrow.
Choso wore a twisted grin hidden under his Ghostface mask.
The hunter vs hunted party meant a perfect time for him to hunt. 
Leaning against a building Choso was shrouded in the dark cover of shadows far removed from campus lights.
Old habits, he mused. There was really no need for him to hide at all tonight. 
He could actually walk around openly as Ghostface now without causing alarm seeing as how most of those fraternity morons were dressed up like him tonight. 
This made things even easier. 
Choso scanned the area for his next prey. 
Someone, anyone alone would do. 
Choso had been itching to spill blood since he had the enticing inclination to slash your boyfriend’s throat earlier.
Currently he wanted nothing more than to see a violent geyser of blood spurt from his next victim. Having it be a shithead frat guy would only sweeten the kill so he had stalked close to frat row for his latest victim.
There.
Seeing movement in the distance, a lone figure, Choso cautiously advances trailing in the shadows towards them until they come into focus under the street lights.  
He nearly does a double take when he recognizes it's you.
Shouldn’t Miss-Perfect-Social-Butterfly be having the time of her life right now with her cretins being crowned queen of the frats or something?
Choso thought bitterly. 
That is, until he got a good look at you. 
You were wet and shivering as you failed to sniff back the tears pouring down your face.
Despite his desire to stay angry with you, his jaw involuntarily clenches as he had never seen you this upset before. 
Something had happened.  
Choso confused look turns deadly as vision travels down to see you nursing the hand you cradled to your chest. He recognizes blood running down your forearm to stain your already soiled costume.
A territorial urge swelled within him, not knowing you had inflicted your own injury. 
You were his prey. 
It was unforgivable for someone else to spill what was his to enjoy.
Choso immediately concluded the cause of it was Dean.
Boyfriend or not he would gladly gut that motherfucker at the drop of a dime. 
He hadn’t forgotten how roughly he had dragged you off earlier. 
And more importantly how you had let that asswipe drag you off. That honestly had fired his temper more than anything. 
A storm of conflicting feelings, Choso yearns to see more of your blood splattered on the ground as much as he secretly covets to have you writhing underneath him.
Should he approach you? 
No. Not yet.
Although, he would never have a more perfect chance than now to kill you if he was ever actually going to go through with it.
Securing his knife on the inside of his robe, Choso silently propels himself after you. 
Never falling too far behind, he vigilantly watches you from a distance as both your protector and predator.
A warm shower was just what you needed but you were pissed you had to wash your hair 3 times to get the smell of Milwaukee's out, which proved insanely hard to do with one functioning hand. 
You could have killed Dean. 
No actually though, as you remembered the dark seething compulsion you felt. 
You weren’t sure what had gotten into you earlier.
Pushing those thoughts to the side though you focused on the gash in your hand, it was pretty gnarly. 
You were just thankful the first aid kid in your sorority house had enough gauze and tape until you could get to the campus nurse tomorrow. 
You probably needed stitches as any sudden movements had the fragile skin of your palm bleeding again.
Returning to your room in a comfy pink cotton bra and thong you throw your towel over a chair.
You start to reach for your fluffy robe when you see Choso’s black track jacket on your desk. It still had the small coffee stains on it from earlier but you opted to slip into it anyway.
Truthfully, you lied to him.
You hadn’t just been carrying it around waiting to give it back to him.
You had worn it more times this past week than you would willingly admit to anyone. 
You even took it on purpose instead of your actual jacket this morning not actually thinking you would run into Choso but when you had seen him, you knew you wanted him to see you in it.
With a sigh of frustration, you dove face first into the pillows of your bed as you curled into his jacket. 
It was your only comfort at the moment. 
Your mind wanders and you can’t help but think of how better a boyfriend Choso would have been to you.
Dean would never let you wear his jackets, no matter how cold you were. He said you were too air-headed and would ruin or lose it. 
Not that he wasn’t right, you definitely were accident prone.
But that's why it had meant so much to you when Choso, not even your boyfriend, had given you his own without a second thought.
You only hoped he didn’t hate you now. 
Not that you could blame him if he did.
Even you hated you a bit for even being with a jerk like Dean in the first place no matter how convenient you thought it had been for you. 
How could you even face Choso in class next week? 
Despite your heart crumpling when you thought of Choso’s cold intimidating gaze being cast upon you again, you admittedly had never seen a look that intense before from anyone. 
It was also impossible to forget the ravenous look in his eyes when he was so close to kissing you. 
He looked as if he would devour you whole. 
God, everything about him was so sexy.
His strong jaw set firm, his eyes dark pools that sucked you in even from memory, his lean muscular body.
You wish you had realized how bad you had been crushing on him sooner. Before everything got so fucked up. 
You fidgeted as an ache developed between your legs.
Turning your head to the side you used your bandaged hand to gently push his jacket collar into your face. 
It still smelled like him despite how many times you’ve worn it this week and despite the faint smell of old coffee from earlier.
Squirming on your bed, you tried in vain to keep your legs from sliding against each other creating more friction as your body became increasingly hotter. 
A shameless whine escaped your lips as you huffed his woody masculine scent in and out. 
Your legs rubbed together more eagerly. 
Shit, you were so horny. 
Still laid flat on your belly you lifted your hips up for access as a manicured finger pressed into your clit toying with yourself from the outside of your pink cotton thong.
Choso was so meticulous, so knowledgeable in everything he did you were sure he knew how to make you cum. 
You were desperate for him as you remembered what it felt like when he caught you from falling last week. 
How good would his sculpted chest feel pressed into you now?
Would he look at you with the same want that flared across his features when he had gotten a glimpse of your panties you had intentionally put on display for him? 
You didn’t miss how it matched the look he gave you when he nearly kissed.
“Choso…”
You moaned out loud. 
You could feel the wet spot your teasing was earning you spread over your thong as your cunt continued to drool over your fantasies of him.
Craving more you lifted your ass up higher while your fingers fumbled to slide under the flimsy fabric.
“A-ahhh s-shit Cho– F-fuck!”
You panted as you sunk two fingers into your cunt. You worked to diligently pump them in and out of you as you pressing your palm down firmly over your swollen clit. 
Your face buried itself deeper in his jacket as you gasped and your warm breath pushed back against you as you imagined it was his own tickling your neck.
All your senses screamed with want to be consumed by him and you pined for the feeling of his cock stretching your wet cunt instead of your slim fingers that weren’t cut out for the job.
“F-fuck C-Choso.. Mmm, let me cum.” 
You practically sobbed when you glided a third finger into your pussy, two wasn’t enough to quell the craze that had overtaken you.
Ironically and unbeknownst to you, Choso (who had hidden himself in your closet during your shower), was mere moments away from losing his own goddamn mind.
Wholly entranced, he listened to you wantonly call for him like a sweet siren song and watched utterly fixated on the way you fiercely finger fucked your pussy like it was his own cock.
All the while in his jacket sniffing the sweaty soiled material like some filthy fucking pervert.
Fuck!
When he had followed you back to the sorority house he had finally resolved to kill you, but now he was at a standstill as there was no plausible way this was actually happening in front of him.
The obscene ASMR of your cunt sloshing rang in his ears and your legs quivered obscenely with you approaching your orgasm. 
Your desperate thrusts caused his oversized jacket to ride up to your hips revealing the way your ass bare ass jiggled when you drove your hips down and pushed your digits up deeper into your core that waited greedily to suck them in.  
You chanted out Choso’s name with urgency straining your voice as you climaxed. The bed creaked from you now humping the mattress while riding out your high.
Shit you were fucking sexy. 
Thought you'd just been toying with him for fun all this time...
Until now.
Choso’s grip on his knife tightened as adrenaline surged through his body. 
He could feel the blood pumping through his dick. 
He wanted to fuck you. 
Badly. 
Give you what you’ve both been needing all this time. 
Choso fully bricked, suppressed a hiss through clenched teeth as he palmed the bulge in his pants but remained otherwise still.
He can’t imagine a positive reaction if he burst out of your closet as Ghostface nor could he just take off his mask and pop out of your closet as your TA like he was some fucking creeper.
This was pure agony. 
You never failed to find some way to unravel him.
Choso was so tense, his body coiled so tightly, he couldn't control his thigh involuntarily twitching and his knee recoiled against your closet door.
He cursed himself for the millionth time at the lack of control he had around you, he had never had to restrain himself so much around anyone else.
Ecstasy was etched on your features as you looked around puzzled from where the noise came from.
However, the even louder boom of the front door slamming shocked you out of your blissful daze and stole your attention away.
You sat up quickly and wondered if your sorority sisters were back already.
You glanced at the clock.
10:32 pm.
It was still much too early for them to leave.  
But who else could it be? 
You groaned and reluctantly hopped off the bed, zipping up Choso’s jacket fully to hide the slick between your legs and went out to greet them so you could avoid them coming into your room and return to your solitude as quickly as possible. 
You were tired, frustrated and still horny as hell. 
You only wanted make yourself cum hard enough you could fall asleep and end this miserable ass day.    
☠                                                   
“Girls~! You really didn’t have to leave so early~!” 
You call out to your sisters.
It was a little late for a show of solidarity if that's what they thought they were doing.
You rolled your eyes. 
But it was eerily quiet as you received no response. 
That’s odd.
Walking down the hall you froze once the view from the top floor opens into the foyer below and you see the front door wide open. 
Not a single soul in sight or to be heard. 
“Girls?”
Fight or flight senses kick into gear altering you to the possible dangers below. 
You might be a bit of a ditz but you studied enough forensics and had seen enough scary movies to know how this shit usually ended.
You turn back to run to your room to call someone but stopped as you noticed your phone on the entryway table by the door. 
Crap.
Steeling yourself you slowly inched your way towards the staircase, stopping at times to lean over the banister for any signs of someone.
“This isn’t funny girls! You know I’ve already had a really shitty night!”
But only the hollow sound of wind whipping through the door answered you as it swayed on its hinges. 
This was an older house.
Maybe you didn’t close the door all the way in the beginning? 
No one in your sorority house ever locked the doors, which now you considered probably wasn’t the greatest tradition to keep up while you were at home all alone and a serial killer was on the loose.
You crept down the stairs trying to silence any creaks as best you could.
“I swear on a stack of Vogues if this is a prank you all of you whores will all be on campus clean-up community service duty for the rest of the semester!”
Still nothing but silence as you reached the bottom of the staircase.
The lights were on in the entire house. From what you could tell the den and living room areas surrounding the foyer were empty. 
You sighed. Maybe it was just the wind.
You close the door and this time make sure to lock it as you clutch your phone and turn to scamper back upstairs when you feel something grab at you from behind.
“Want to die Y/N?” 
You let out a screech as you whip your around to see a figure you recognize as Ghostface reach for you as you stumble backwards into the den. 
Tripping over your own feet, you fall back landing on your injured hand and knocking your head against the edge of a coffee table.
A roar of laughter erupts as you groan dazed from the floor.
“You really are a clumsy ditz, babe.” 
Puzzled and near concussed, you blink through blurry vision to see Dean pull off the Ghostface mask as he crouches down to your level and leans on his metal bat tauntingly.
Pain blossoms sharply in the back of your head and you can feel the puncture wound on your hand open and saturate your bandage.
“The fuck are you doing here Dean?” 
You glared up at him through your one good hand that covered your face as you struggle to get your bearings back. 
You couldn’t catch a fucking break tonight.
“Still being a huge bitch even though I came all the way over here to say sorry, eh?”
Dean hummed, brow raised as he chuckled.
“I thought a little fright would put you in a good mood, Y/N.”
“Nice way of apologizing Dean. Insult me, scare me half to death and give me a concussion.” 
You knew this man was not sorry at all.
Someone sober enough had probably informed Dean that you did have the power to essentially kill their fraternity’s social life, cucking his entire house for the foreseeable future. They likely sent him to make things right with you ASAP. 
But even with all that on the line your tool of an ex was such a huge dick he couldn’t even do the bare minimum to give you a decent apology like an actual human being (not that you would have accepted it).
“I see I was right about one thing though.” 
Dean got your attention as he pointed down at the moisture running down your legs.
You immediately pull Choso’s jacket down further to cover yourself. 
You couldn’t give a fuck what he thought at this point. You’d confess to fucking the entire Forensics department if got him out of your face.
“Sure Dean, think what you want okay? Just fucking GET. OUT.” 
You felt dizzy from the pressure thrumming in the back of your skull.
“Yeah and if I say no whore? Then what?” 
Dean slid a clammy hand over your knee which sent another wave of nausea through you, your head spinning.
You squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to stop his hand traveling lower before you suddenly noticed Dean’s body being ripped away from you entirely.
The scene that followed occurred in a whirlwind as your head felt like it would explode trying to focus on anything.
Your eyes strain to keep up with the action only registering fractions of it through your blurred vision. 
You see…blood?
Is it yours?
No. It’s flowing from Dean’s shoulder.
Another person?
No
…Ghostface?
Yes.
Your double vision struggled to pinpoint exactly what was happening as Dean and the masked Ghostface fought for dominance, somehow ending up back in the foyer. 
Dean was barely able to keep the large hunting knife from sinking into his chest.
Was this even real?
Were you really about to witness a Ghostface crime scene in action?
Were you next?
You felt like you were witnessing it all play out through someone else’s body as your mind floated off and you felt more disconnected. 
Your awareness faded in and out.
There was no doubt, you definitely had a small concussion. 
“Y/N!”
“Y/N!”
“Y/N!”
Your head snaps up as you finally hear Dean shouting your name although it sounded like you were in a fishbowl.
He had somehow gotten leverage and evened the odds with the killer as they both now had a hold of the blade’s handle.
“Y/N! Pay attention you ditzy ass bimbo! Don’t just sit there looking stupid, get the fucking bat.”
You scanned the floor around you. 
Sure enough, there was the scuffed metal bat shining back at you resting by your knees.
Your injured hand grazes it and you see a red trail of blood smearing across it as the cool smooth metal soothes your ruptured skin.
“Y/N, what the fuck are you daydreaming about?! Get your ass over here!”
You grip the bat’s handle, ignoring the pain to use it and the coffee table as leverage to push you up off the floor.
You sway on your feet as your blood pressure drastically drops from standing too quickly. 
Your head feels light. 
Your body feels light. 
Surprisingly too, even the large heavy metal bat now feels light in your injured palm. 
“Fucking finally, Y/N!”
Dean yelled as he saw you on your feet.
“It’s not like I’m trying to fight off a killer here or anything dumb bitch.” 
Dumb bitch?
Oh yeah, he means you.
God, Dean was fucking annoying you just wished he would shut up sometimes. 
You couldn’t even think straight. 
What were you doing again? 
Right, the bat. He told you to bring it to him.
You wanted to sit down again. You were so tired.
You couldn't rest though as Dean’s voice was ringing in your ears. 
You just wanted him to shut up more than anything so you willed yourself forward. 
“Give Dean the bat, Give Dean the bat.”
You lowly repeated in a mantra like state.
Your vision was spotted with black dots swirling like the pain in your head.
GiveDeanthebatGiveDeanthebatGiveDeanthebat
You gripped the handle in both hands.
You were going to give Dean the bat.
“Y/N! Goddamn bitch move your lazy fuckin–”
C-R-A-C-K!
The slick sound ricochets throughout the entryway and reverberates in your ears.
C-R-A-C-K!
You feel warm droplets of moisture spray on you.
C-R-A-C-K!
The bat and Dean’s motionless body both simultaneously hit the floor with a thud. 
You closed your eyes.
You felt… relief? 
Like you could breathe again as the hazy veil that had shrouded your thoughts lifted and the throbbing in your head slowly receded. 
You weren’t sure how to describe what you were feeling but it was some mix between euphoria, exhilaration and… freedom?
Well, you were finally free of Dean for good now.
You couldn’t help but be amused by that thought as you wiggle your toes in the warm red liquid that pooled around them. 
A child-like giggle resounds from you. 
Was this post nut kill clarity?
Catching a glimpse of yourself in the hallway mirror you noticed blood and chunks of brain matter strewn all over Choso’s jacket. 
You wouldn’t be able to go without washing it now.
You frowned at the thought of his scent being washed away as well as you unzipped it, checking to see if the stains seeped through the lining too.
You had made such a mess. 
Quick movements out of the corner of your eyes reminded you of the fact you were not alone.
The actual Ghostface killer stood mere feet away from you, his intentions clear as he visibly heaved and extended his knife out to the side approaching you.
You sighed exhausted. 
“I’m not going to be able to blame this one on you, am I?”
Ghostface shook his head, confirming what you already knew.
Choso felt his own adrenaline reach a frenzied peak.
He approached you with the animalistic stature of a predator who was sizing up another. 
You were a killer now, no longer simply his prey.
Proving as much as eyes showed no remorse for the life you had taken.
Yet given what he had walked in on just minutes ago and how distraught you were leaving the party, there was nothing for to mourn anyway.
The only emotion your shown was concern for the on coming threat of him as you backed up to keep from his advances. 
Heh, that could just as easily be him right now bleeding out on the floor.
He mused as he side stepped Dean’s body to stalk closer towards you.
Choso smirked, he was only disappointed he wasn’t the one to kill him.
Although he couldn’t deny how beautiful you looked creating your own work of art.
A bit abstract and not as precise as his own methods. 
Nevertheless, Choso continues to be amazed by how his cute and clumsy little undergrad just showed him a darkness he had only previously recognized in himself. 
Choso watches you back away until your ankles hit the bottom of the staircase.
Your feet and hands were slick with blood and you couldn’t find your footing on the steps nor support yourself on the railing so you were forced to scooch up the stairs. 
Yet given your injury even that proved difficult for you.
What would he do with you now?
“W-We’re even right? You saved me, I saved you.” 
You tried to bargain as you saw him crawl up the staircase after you.
Ghostface cocked his head to the side considering your words as he reached you and stopped your escape with a strong gloved hand digging into the flesh of your hip. 
Ghostface suspended himself over you covering your frame entirely and his metallic blade glared in the light as if it would pierce into you at the slightest whim. 
Were you going to die like this? 
Despite the danger you couldn’t help but be a bit turned on.
Especially as Ghostface’s touch reminded you so much of–
“Did you get off on killing your boyfriend Y/N?” 
Ghosface taunted, speaking for the first time.
“...or were you already this fucking wet from fantasizing about someone else, hm?”
Your eyes widened.
Your mind raced too fast to reach a succinct conclusion. But you were disappointed to hear a voice box distortion instead of the actual person's voice beneath the mask.
Your flurry of jumbled thoughts are paused when you feel the cool caresses of the flat metal side of his blade drag across the skin of your stomach leaving goosebumps in its wake. 
Your chest heaved slowly with steady intensity as your breath shuddered. 
“Are you turned on now Y/N?”
You look away from Ghostface as he taunts as you. You feel more self-conscious considering who you think is under the mask.
Just how fucked up was it you were turned on from murdering your boyfriend in cold blood to save a serial killer who might have been the guy you had just been masturbating to who was also the serial killer Ghostface and very likely about to kill you now? 
Very. 
Very fucked up was the answer.
You would have been ashamed if you could bring yourself to care.
Choso’s jerks your face back to him as the hand with the blade parts your legs. 
The lust in your eyes and your drenched cunt were all the answers he needed.
“AHH!”
You cry out as you feel the smooth metal come down to slap your clothed pussy hard and slide against your lips. 
You fight the urge to close your legs. You can’t or the sharpened edges of the knife would stab your thighs.
You bite your bottom lip to the point of drawing blood. 
This does not go unnoticed by Choso as he brings his gloved hand to your lips to soothe the bite. 
His soft leather covered thumb hooks past your lips to guide your mouth open, exploring your mouth as you openly moan. 
“Tsk, Tsk, we can't have you breaking skin and wasting more of that pretty blood that belongs to me.”
You shiver at his words dripping in possessiveness and your mouth encloses around his thumb, sucking as your tongue still squirms under its pressure.
A strained hiss comes from Choso and his eyes roam down to admire the slime trail of sticky fluid your clothed cunt dripped his blade.
Before Choso can get a peak at your pussy your hands fly down to cover yourself. 
Amused, Choso gently removes his hand from your mouth to palm your inner thigh as his thumb slick from your spit rubs circles into your flesh.
His coaxing has you spreading your legs wider as he brushes up against the hands covering your cunt.
“Show me Y/N.”
He breathed out.
You pouted and shook your head.
“Is my little slut a liar then? I recall you telling me you didn’t mind if I saw your panties.”
Your suspicions confirmed you gasped in realization but Choso could no longer control himself as his hunting knife returned to your body to trail up your stomach this time the pointy edge hovering over your soft skin.
Your stomach sucks in to create distance between the blade and your skin causing your chest to push up through your arms but it's exactly what Choso had wanted.
Whoosh
With a swift slash through the air his blade slices your bra in two and its straps fall back down your shoulders laying bare your breast and hardened nipples to the cool air.
Exposed, your hands instinctively move from you core to cover your tits.
You see Choso pull back from you to sit up fully.
No longer touching you as he opted to imprint into his memory the imagery of your wet puffed pussy glistening through the soaked and now nearly transparent thong which clung to your lower lips like second skin.
He shifted his mask as the voice box moved from over this mouth.
“Y/N” he sighed.  
Hearing his actual voice had you whining with need again.
Choso couldn’t keep his hands off you for long as he grasped hold of your thong and slipped his fingers between the fabric covering your cunt.
Choso rubbed the sticky moisture on the thin fabric between his thumb and forefingers while his knuckles bullied into your clit, causing your toes to curl.
“Mmm C-Choso.”  
Your hands went from simply covering your tits to messaging them, pulling on your nipples, as you couldn’t hold back the sounds from the pleasure you felt from him touching you.
Shit. He wanted to ruin you.
Choso’s knife returns to your throat applying soft pressure dangerously close to breaking skin.
“So tell me what you want then, Y/N?” 
Choso knew you wanted him but he wanted you to say it. 
He needed you to admit it to him outright before he could really believe it.
His knuckles had stopped teasing your clit and your body trembled as you bucked your hips into his hand and pouted.
“I want you to hurry up and decide if you’re going to fuck me or kill me before my sorority sisters get back Choso!” 
Choso smirked under the mask. 
Becoming a killer turned you into a bit of a brat.
But he knew how to handle you.
Heh, fair enough.
Driving the knife into the staircase behind your head he pulls you up, swapping positions and seating you on his thigh.
He pulls his soiled track jacket off of you and you shiver as the cold air hits your back. 
“Mm, Fuck me Choso”
You sighed longingly, arms encircling his neck.
“Mm, Should I though?”
Choso questions out loud as you melt deeper into him from his hands roaming your body.
One settles on your hip under the band of your thong and the other peels you back by your hair so Choso can see your eyes blown out fully with lust.
“Or should I make you wait like I’ve been waiting ever since you first stumbled into class in that slutty green skirt?”
You cried out and our tongue lolled out of your mouth when he yanked your panties roughly by the front, pulling the material between your pussy lips.  
Your clit was cradled in the steamy fabric and you clutched the front of his robes for stability as your eyes rolled back.
“Do you know how much you made me suffer thinking about that pretty pussy of yours? How many times I fisted my cock? How much blood I spilled to forget the way you looked in those slutty outfits?”
Choso's own desire was apparent in his raspy voice.
You shake your head and tears spill as he pulls the fabric tighter over your clit. 
“I-I w-wanted you too” you sniffled out.
“Then prove it.” Choso breathed out huskily.
“I want that needy cunt of yours to beg me by fucking herself real nice on my thigh like she did on your mattress earlier.”
You could have combusted as he admitted he had in fact been watching you from your closet but you couldn’t help but obey his orders.
The frantic way your heart pounded in your chest couldn’t trump the unbearable arousal between your legs.
You braced yourself on his shoulders as you began to rock your hips on him.
“That’s it baby.”
Choso encouraged you as you heard a loud rip and realized he had cut away your thong when you felt him snatch the material right off of you.
Your plump pussy lips parted when pressed onto his thigh and you felt the rough material of his heavy robes directly chafing against your clit. 
Surrendering to pleasure you circled your hips to grind down on him as Choso started bouncing you on his leg.
The impact of your weight forcing your clit down while his thigh pushed up into you shaking.
“S-shiiiit D-daddy!”
You cried out arching back. 
Choso could have busted in his pants completely untouched when he heard you call him daddy. 
You didn’t know how much you had him wrapped around your perfectly manicured fingers. 
He would kill every single one of those bastard frat fucks on campus on a whim if you asked him to.
He would do anything for you.
Choso's muscular thigh flexing underneath your cunt felt amazing but your hole was screaming to be filled as it gaped around the phantom thought of his cock penetrating you.
“N-Need more. S’not enough Daddy”
You beg, whining into the mouth opening of his mask.
Your breath enters through the material as your hot tongue presses against the cloth barrier hungrily. 
His own tongue responds in kind, entangling with yours through his mask and you moan deeper into the opening.
You feel so good yet are still frustrated that you were naked while you couldn’t even see a sliver of skin from him still in his full Ghostface attire.
You move to lift up his mask when he stops you, breaking the makeshift kiss.
“Now, now Y/N.”
Choso playfully chides. 
“Can you think of nothing but my dick? You’ve forgotten so quickly this is still a crime scene?”
You panted as you looked over your shoulder and spot the gruesome remains of Dean’s lifeless body and half bashed in face. Blood stained the foyer rug and pieces of tissue splattered on curtains, walls and even the fake plants.  
Right.
You still had no idea what you were going to do about that situation but Dean was already dead. He wasn’t going anywhere.
Honestly you felt as if you might die as well if you couldn’t get Choso’s dick inside of you soon.
Your hips never stopped grinding down on his thigh as you returned your attention to him.
You knew if Choso couldn’t even kiss you, he couldn’t fuck you either as those same rules applied to both potential sources of DNA. 
“S’fine.” You pout.
“I-I had your jacket, y-your DNA could c-come from that.”
Your injured hand came to cup the slide of his masked face and your other rubbed the outline of cock over his jeans, feeling the precum soil through them despite the thickness of the fabric. 
Blood from your hand smeared onto the pristine white Ghostface mask as you pulled your foreheads to touch.
“I’ll admit Dean was right, w-we w-were sleeping together...”
Choso chuckled.
“..and get me expelled for sleeping with a student on top of a motive to connect me to your victim?” 
He gave your ass harsh smack. 
Your cheeks clenched and your panting grew more ragged as you chased your high against him. 
“Y/N you gotta think with that sexy little head of yours not that needy little cunt if you really want me to fuck you. I know you’re smart. This should be easy for you.”
You groaned. 
Thinking was virtually impossible right now. 
You wanted to give up and resort to begging again but Choso calling you smart (something your recently deceased ex never did) and now rubbing your thighs encouragingly, had made you so happy you wanted to make him more proud of you. 
You reluctantly stopped your hips, ignoring the fiery ache shooting through in your cunt but you wanted to cum from his cock not his thigh.
You closed your eyes and exhaled a shaky breath.
Focus Y/N, you willed yourself.
Focusing became harder to do though when Choso became impatient and had nuzzled his masked face into your chest.
His mouth latched to your nipple through the black cloth, swirling his tongue and grazing his teeth against your bud causing it to swell.
“Oh!” you smiled sweetly down at him and his abs tightened as he held you closer to him.
“We get rid of the body! Clean up and make sure there's no crime scene to be found!”
“That’s correct,” Choso praised you as if you answered a question in class correctly.
 “Now, most importantly, how exactly will we get rid of the body, Y/N?”
“We…w-we..”
Your fingertips grazed your lips and you bit a nail as you pensively considered your options. 
You looked like you were thinking so hard on this.
So fucking cute.
“Come on baby, tell me.”
Choso was the one begging you now while he lifted your hips just enough to pull up his robes and position you to straddle his dick straining against his jeans. 
You were so close to the answer. He knew it would come to you and he wanted to be inside of you as soon as you got it.
You clasped your hands together and gave him one of your pageant winning smiles he grew to love. 
“We make a kill room!”
“Smart girl” Choso said as he lifted his mask and his lips came crashing down on yours.
“Shit-Shit-Shit!” 
You cried as you lower yourself onto Choso’s cock. 
You had begged and pleaded him for this but Choso was so much bigger and longer than you expected. 
You never had a problem taking dick before but not only was Choso huge he had 3 rows of top and frenum ladder ball piercings on his long veiny cock that dragged against your gspot when you tried to force him inside you.
You still had about an inch to go and his fat cockhead was already pressing against your cervix.
“Fuck baby you really been keeping all this good pussy from me?”
Choso spread your cheeks to assist you down on his enlarged length but your walls vice gripped his cock preventing him from guiding you down further.
Choso grunted, he was going to cum fast if you didn’t ease up.
Pulling you back, he captured your lips again devouring them as he violently pushed his tongue into your mouth in a sloppy kiss, dominating you completely. 
A tremor shot through your cunt as your hips jerked and your legs quivered.
“My slutty girl is so sensitive she came from just kissing?”
Choso teased knowingly pulling back to allow you air and lapping at the drool from the corners of your mouth.
It wasn’t just a kiss. 
Without the hindrance of a mask Choso’s kisses felt like he was eating you alive and set your body ablaze.
Your orgasm came with enough intensity to loosen your walls allowing you to finally sink down to the base. However your legs were still vibrating and unable to support you riding him.
You fell forward into the crook of his neck. 
“C-can’t D-daddy” you babbled into his neck drooling.
Choso wanted to tease you more. He wanted to goad and praise you enough so you would ride him in earnest until your perfect pretty face sobbed for him to fuck you but time was of the essence now.
You both probably had a good hour and a half left before the cops broke up the party and members of your sorority started heading back. 
He needed to finish you quickly and he silently promised to take his time with you later.
Rising up, Choso positioned his arms under your thighs to keep you seated on his cock as he walked up the few steps to reach the landing in the middle of the staircase. 
Placing your back carefully against the wall he glides his hands over your sweat and blood laden skin to lift your legs onto his shoulders. His grip settles onto the fat of your ass and he marvels at how his fingers sink into them.
Choso allows you time to get adjusted to the new position as he now held you in a standing mating press.
“Ready?”
You nod and Choso takes that as his greenlight to rigorously fuck you into the wall with such vigor you felt it quaking behind you.
There was no possible way you could have ever been ready for that though and your hands dive into his hair tugging at the roots under his man buns as if you intended to scalp him. 
Your reactions fuel his cruel thrusts as Choso greedily drinks your guttural screams into his mouth. 
They sound more heavenly than any he had heard before even from his own victims.
Slamming you down on his cock, Choso manhandled you like you weighed nothing to him.  
His piercings and engorged veins continue to scrape the walls of your core with every stroke as you gush around him soaking his robes.
Choso wanted more of you.
He didn’t think he would ever get enough.
You felt so fucking good he could fuck you like this for hours and he cursed the dwindling time he had before he needed to remove himself from the warm comfort of your mushy cunt.
The hallway echoed with sounds of his hips sadistically ramming your body further into the wall as well as the sloshy vulgar noises his cock tore from your tight creamy cunt.
“S-so c-lose Cho–” 
Were the only words you could croak out as your cries become lodged in your throat.
The pleasure you received being folded between Choso and the wall had you salivating like crazy. Drool was pooling in your mouth faster than it could dribble out down the sides. 
You locked eyes with him. 
The wild glint in them was so primordially feral you can’t believe you ever mistook the restraint he tried to maintain around you for shyness. 
Frankly, there was nothing timid about him. 
The cold confidence of a true killer radiated off of him and into your core as each of his thrusts felt like they were stabbing into your womb.
Your whines turned into horse croaks as you desperately gasped for air.
Like a killer he showed you no mercy as his long cock shifted your guts up and into your lungs.
Choso was quite literally murdering your cunt.
“Yeah Y/N? Is my girl gonna cum all pretty like on this dick?” 
Too cockdrunk to reply, your pussy readily spoke up for you as your walls clenched and spasmed. White stars flood your vision as your body vibrates against him as you cum hard, gurgling his name.
Choso’s hips stuttered and his moans increased as he fucked you through your orgasm and chased his own. 
He knew better than to cum inside you, he wasn’t wearing a condom and didn’t even know if you were on birth control. 
But your cunt was like a drug to him so Choso resigned himself to cleaning you up after as he gave one last thrust, injecting you with his hot seed that scorched your insides and sent you spasming all over again.
It took a few minutes for Choso to catch his breath but he gently released your legs down to touch the floor as he pulled out of you.
You groaned immediately at the loss after being so full as you still tried to regain your own steady breaths.
Not missing a beat, Choso moved with reverence as if he was worshiping your form from the kisses he peppered down your chest and belly.
“Eyes on me baby,”
Choso ordered, glancing up at you. 
You nodded your breath hitching once he reached below your belly button and he threw one of your legs over his shoulder again.
He shamelessly breathed in the scent of sex wafting off your pussy.
The musky mixture of his cum and your juices combined with sweat and blood entered his nostrils and sent his eyes rolling back into his skull.
You shuddered. 
You wanted to feel his mouth on you more than anything but you knew you couldn’t both remain like this in the open hallway for much longer.
Seemingly forgetting all concerns of time, Choso’s thumbs lightly ghost over your battered pussy lips as he slowly peeled back the slippery folds.
His chest swoll with pride seeing how much of his cum you had taken inside of you. 
Choso's tongue salaciously darted out to catch the drippings that seeped out of your messy little cunt.
Despite your concerns, you can’t resist bucking up towards his face as he brought your hips off the wall towards him. 
“Be patient princess, let me enjoy this.”
Choso open handedly spanks your pussy, landing a direct hit on your clit which has you shaking as your squirt spritz onto his face.
His thick tongue rolls out of his mouth like a man starved licking his lips at the feast before him
“Goddamn, I already love her so much”
He cooed into your cunt while looking up at you with puppy dog eyes.
“Go out with me, yeah Y/N? I’ll treat her right. Just let me have a taste of her everyday.”
You almost came on his face again from the utter display of depravity he was showing you, not missing the fact he was so pussy drunk he was technically asking your cunt to be his girlfriend instead of you. 
To be fair you were both way past the point where he needed to ask you out anyway as he was an accomplice to your homicide and soon-to-be cover up.
“Okay Choso, I’ll be your girlfriend,”
You grinned at him.
Choso thanked you by gently placing a kiss on your clit before nose-diving into your folds like a mad man between your legs.
Seeing how sensitive you are it wasn't long before he had you thrashing on his lips from the nasty way he heartily ate your cunt out.
The suckling, bubbling and squeaking sounds of him inhaling your pussy nearly had you at your peak again.
Yet you were snapped out of your pleasure when you heard the grandfather clock in the hall ring signaling it was midnight. 
Fuck what if the party got broken up earlier than expected?
“W-we don’t have time for this Choso.” You plead anxiously as you pry his head out of from between your legs.
The sounds of the clock chiming and the sight of Dean’s body still laying in the entryway made you more nervous with every passing minute it remained there.
His eyes narrowed dangerously on you as he nuzzled his nose back into your cunt hooking it under your clitoral hood.
“Oh? My sweet girl gets one kill and thinks she knows better than me what we have time for?”
His expression dares you to pull him away again as he drags the flat of his tongue lazily over your clit.
“Please Choso…”
Choso relents as he feels you tense up more, he wouldn't be able to enjoy himself unless you were.
“You trust me right Y/N?” 
“Yes”
You breathe out as his fingers play with your puffed pussy lips.
“Do you have the key to the basement?”  
You nod.
“And you know exactly where the supply closet is, baby?” 
You nod again.
“Perfect. This won't take long at all then.”
Choso assures you as his confident words calm your worries.
“So now just relax princess and let me take care of you. This isn’t my first clean up job babe…”
You weren’t sure if Choso was talking about your cunt or the dead body, but you didn’t doubt he was experienced in both.
“Give me 15 minutes to see how many times I can make you squirt on my tongue. Then we can finally make that dexter kill room you like so much, yeah?” 
You nodded once more and Choso wasted no time drowning his face back into your cunt.
You sighed contently.
He was already the best boyfriend you ever had. 
Tumblr media
© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ
Tumblr media
A/N: How was that? Did I do our emo kang justice? Lmk! (y'all better lmk cause y'all busted my balls for days over this lmfaoooo)
Also ding dong Dean is DEAD thank fuck. Whew I made that man as horrible as possible so you could kill him. Tbh, I would kill a nigga just for pouring Milwakees in my hair alone, that shit smells and tastes like cat piss lol.
Also here if y'all wanna see a cute lil pixivi I made of me bimbo!reader x Ghostface!Choso.
You know the original idea for this was actually based on a fic I was writing where Choso, Yuji and Sukuna (all brothers) all transfer to your university and bimbo!reader (no bf this time) clearly likes Choso but his oblivious emo ass has no idea and keeps being a dick to you cause he thinks you are just making fun of him. LOL! I may in the future still end up writing a version for that since this ended up going in a completely different direction with Ghostface thrown into the mix.
Y'all this fic was way too fuckin long. I know theres likely errors/redundancies still so I will comb through it later and I may edit/reword somethings too but general content will stay the same. Tbh, what took so long is the last scene cause I decided I cannot write a smut fic with Choso where that man isn't acting completely deranged and unhinged over the taste of pussy. He's munch, he can't help it.
Reblog for Ghostface!Choso to be your personal munch, but likes and comments are appreciated all the same!
Next up on Kizzatober, Werewolf!Toji from Thrilling Ghouls! (PWP)
ღTaglistღ: @callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @akaza-simp01 @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @samicamy-13 @strvqtt @wisteriaflowersss @spookyy-gracee @jujutsualy @anakalana @crying-person @missphanosaur18 @jazzmynerule @megatqistina @trobed1312 @mimiemie @insomninaz @bloodysweetcat @cyyberm00n @nikkitc0703 @briefrebelfanalmond (so sorry if I missed anyone but I'm delirious rn forgive me ily)
2K notes · View notes
neteyamsilly · 1 year
Text
i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 1
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary ;; As Jake Sully's oldest daughter, you never see eye to eye with him, always challenging him and pushing his buttons to the limit. What happens when things go too far one day? [PART 2] pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; welcome to the labor of my daddy issues and my very own therapy. this fic is inspired by this one by @layonatanvi and I only wanted to borrow the running away from home to get an ikran idea/prompt! Please excuse my mistakes if you see any.
Tumblr media
There’s a widespread belief among sky people that every first-born daughter is a direct copy of her father. 
You listened in on your own father complaining to your mother about this privately one time; according to him, this was why you guys kept banging hammerheads like 'angtsìks. 
Lo’ak was his troublemaker, yes, but you were the rebel pain in his ass, wouldn’t stop questioning one tiny simple step he made, never took anything seriously when he needed you to be on top of things hundred percent of the time... Even your younger brother knew boundaries after he was given the stink eye, but you hadn’t stopped testing him every single goddamn day after the sky people had come back. 
His youngest son and oldest daughter were nearly identical in the speed they got him seeing red, but the similarities ended there. Lo’ak would go behind him to cause trouble, and you would do it right to his face, that fearlessness and defiance made you more dangerous than your brother in your father’s opinion.  
His blood pressure skyrocketing was reserved for Lo’ak and the shenanigans he knew right away the boy was getting into, and you got his explosive anger the moment you would open your mouth to defy him — he couldn’t talk to you, a normal conversation even about your mother’s cooking wasn’t possible without you being passive-aggressive and things snowballing from there. 
(“This is delicious Neytiri, thank you for the food. Sturmbeest?”
“Sturmbeest meat ran out like two weeks ago, father. You ask this everyday and mom answers the same everyday.”
Cue him reprimanding you for talking to him like that, you saying maybe he should greenlight a hunt soon to calm his nerves and promptly being sent to your room. It was Neteyam who’d saved some food for you that night.)
If only you would stop talking back to him and listen for once, he’d said, pacing in the tent with hands on hips like an agitated viperwolf as mother watched on, most likely tired from going through this loop for yet another day. You are the older sister to Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk, why can’t you be a role model for them like Neteyam is? 
(Mom had given him the flattest, “She is at the age for such behavior, Ma’Jake, we’ve talked about this. Let her be.”)
In your defense, he didn’t make sense sometimes, what harm was there in wanting him to explain the thought process behind his decisions?
Apparently you simply were prohibited from doing that to the Olo’eyktan. 
But he was father, he was your family. Why did that have to be disrespect? 
He wasn’t like this before.
A small part of you was aware this was you lashing out because you missed your father — the lighthearted rock in your life, the big shadow protecting you from the heat of the world, who knew how to smile and show his love before all of this. Now he was just the leader of the clan, the weight of the revered Toruk Makto on his shoulders made him a total stranger you didn’t recognize. 
He barely ever called you sweetheart anymore, punishing you for being a brat, most likely. You tried to act like it didn’t hurt. 
But it did. You missed him dearly when he was right in front of you. The rest of the family did, too, they just didn’t say it out loud the way you expressed through what you called standing up to him — in reality, it was a statement about the man he had become, father couldn’t read between the lines to understand.
Mom did. 
She would always explain he did it out of love and worry, and his every move had a reason behind it after the scoldings ended. It was as if she saw right through the prickly exterior of her eldest daughter.
Her love wasn’t held back like his was, not shared like military MREs at decided moments in a day in between attacks, raids, meetings and duties. Hers were long touches, hugs, kisses on your temple, shared time and hunts together, her letting you ride on her ikran with her, the warmth of a meal and soft smiles; whilst his was randomly asking how you were after training and where you’ve been if he caught onto your absence sometimes. He didn’t have time for you or your siblings except for Tuktuk these days. That’s why you were now a mama’s girl.
Sooner or later, the breaking point was finally bound to arrive. 
Yours did after a particularly heated-up fight about your rite of passage. You had had enough of father postponing it when Lo’ak, younger than you, had already gained his own ikran and gone through uniltaron. He was present in the tent while you were fussing and debating with your immovable mountain of a father only answering with single syllable responses, and his light snickers made you all the more aggressive. He got a strong jab from Kiri after a loud snort.  
Kiri, you could get. She was built different from the start — got her mount earlier than anybody else, just walked up to it and asked. Besides, the girl wasn’t a dick about it like Lo’ak was. 
“You aren’t ready yet,” father answered the more you asked him. You thought he'd say a different thing the hundredth time, but he didn't. “Your brother was.”
Lo’ak puffed his chest at that, desperate for a drop of recognition as always, and you could only roll your eyes. “So you think I’m weak? I’m not strong enough?”
Father sighed at the provocation. “That’s not what I’m saying. This and being ready are two different things.”
“How are they different? If I’m on top of my training, that means I’m ready.”
“Physically ready, and mentally ready are not the same.”
“How can I not be mentally ready, I’ve already seen what happens—”
“Enough!” He stood up, towering above you and leaning in slightly. Your younger brother had stopped smiling so quickly you almost let a laugh escape you, and father got agitated when he saw that, thinking you were making fun of him. “Some don’t return from the dream hunt. Do you understand? The strongest sometimes don’t return from that. Your mind needs to be strong.”
“And mine isn’t?”
He gave a slow exhale through his nose, not actually wanting to say it for some reason. “No it isn’t.”
“Why?”
There it is. Your signature phrase. ‘Why?’
And it made your father look above, asking silently for patience from Eywa as it always did. 
“Ma’ite, why don’t we take a break, hm? Come walk with me,” your mom interrupted, taking your hand and standing next to you, your four fingers got enveloped in her larger, warmer grip, strong and insistent. 
“No, I wanna hear it. What do you think makes me not ready?”
You insinuating that your father was entirely going off his own wrong opinion and not knowing any better set him off. You saw the change from ticked off to borderline on edge, but instead of giving into it, he turned his back on you and went back to cleaning his gun, movements choppy and harsh. “That immaturity for a start.”
And you hissed at him—actually hissed at him when none of your siblings would ever dare to talk back to him during a lecture. 
The audible gasps, the holding of breaths, and the slow turn of your father’s head looking like he was going through confusion of reality upon being hit on the head had followed. His eyes narrowed and the lines of his eyebrows got gradually lower on his face, his form seemingly expanding in mass from building anger, spine slowly straightening after fully comprehending what you just did.
“I’m way past you giving me attitude missy,” his baritone and low voice was so steady that you’d rather him yell at you like usual, but he was scarily calm, pushing you to raise your chin righteously at him to show you weren’t bothered by him none, but your ears betrayed you by cowering flat and taut against your skull. “But you’re hissing at your father now? Hm? You think this right here is gonna get you the respect you think you deserve?”
“You don’t listen,” you said, ignoring your heart trashing away from how coldly father was to you.  “Disrespect,” your fingers quoting in the air resulted only in making him angrier. Neteyam to his right, silent and observant the whole argument, was furiously shaking his head that the beads in his braids were clicking loudly. “is the only way you ever pay attention to anything anymore. See? Look how sharp you are right now. Mission accomplished, I guess.” 
“Bro…” Lo’ak, frightened by the wide eyed glare father was giving you, weakly protested, but you knew he would never be able to interfere in the verbal struggle between you and father the way you did to his. 
“You will go to your room,” father said between his teeth, “Do not let me see your face. I swear to Eywa—Neytiri, get her outta here.“
“Do you ever want to see our faces anymore, father?” 
A beat. 
Mom gasped your name in shock, grabbing your arm this time as if she wanted to drag you away. 
All his fury froze away immediately. “What did you just say?” 
You just stared at him. 
“That’s enough,” your mother snapped at you, but you didn’t hold it against her, she was more worried about what would follow if this went on. “Come on, we’re leaving.”
“Okay.” Father slowly shook his head, the storm brewing right under his skin got you preparing for the impact, and all the kids flinched when he threw the unloaded gun back in the crate. “You know so much, don’t you? You’re smart, wise. Know better than Tsahik herself. Fine, you get your way. Go.”
You froze. “What?”
“Yeah, go. Get yourself an ikran.”
“Father—”
“Don’t father me. Go on. I’m not stopping you. Since you’re so ready and you’ll say just about anything to get what you want, who am I to get in your way, huh?” 
But you didn’t want it to be like this. Iknimaya was supposed to be something exciting, prideful — a ceremony. He was saying it like you were being thrown out. Who was going to paint your face? Be proud of you? 
“Why are you just standing there?” He poked your crushed ego further, confident in the fact that you wouldn't set one foot outside of the cave systems at this hour of the day. “Didn’t you want this?”
You didn’t want this. 
“Dad, it’s the middle of the night,” Kiri said, appalled, not quite believing her ears. 
“What does it matter?” He showed you in mock pride, up and down that you couldn’t stop the tears from stinging the corners of your eyes. “Mighty hunter here is ready.”
“Jake,” your mother warned in such a threatening tone that he stopped and shifted on his feet, almost uneasy. 
“What? If she doesn’t want a father’s concern I’m not giving it to her.”
Like you weren’t standing right in front of him at all. 
“Jake!”
That was the final straw. You wrenched your arm free from mom’s iron grip and screamed, “I hate you!” at the top of your lungs at him before storming off the tent.
His ears flattening was the last thing you paid attention to as everything became a blur because of tears swelling. Yeah, right. You wished you could hurt him, unfortunately he was too much of a wall for that. You bet he was scoffing at your declaration right now.
Your body thought faster than your brain did even when the emotions had you drowning under the current, deciding you were going to sneak off to the ikran rookery tonight. You knew he would send Neteyam after you — him barking, “Follow your sister,” at the boy right after you hid yourself between the rocks surrounding the tent was the confirmation of the hypothesis. He was to make sure you didn’t leave High Camp. 
Everyone in your family knew your favorite hiding spot to cool off, Neteyam of course was heading there automatically, and it was the headstart you needed to get a move on. 
Fine. You would complete your iknimaya yourself without anybody’s support, as if these things had any value anymore with how military he’d conditioned the clan to be. You were going to make him eat his words for humiliating you.
The muffled of father drifting off flared up your determination as you soundlessly sneaked off. "Jesus, I've spoiled her too much..."
5K notes · View notes
4izawas · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
“oh, g-god~” you whimper softly, throwing your head back to rest on the pillow as your lover lays on his stomach between your legs, “s-satoru, please!” one of his arms is looped around your leg, the other buried two knuckles deep inside you as he laps at your cunt. 
soft moans fall from his lips as he messily eats you out, his tongue dipping hungrily into your core before running up the length of your slit to swipe over your swollen clit. he doesn’t fight against the way you thrust your hips up into his face, smearing your wetness across his skin, only moaning appreciatively into your cunt  as he tries to further bury himself in you. satoru had always prided himself on being the best you’d ever had, and he’d always preened under the praise that would forever follow the times he offered you the many talents of his his hands ( and god, he was oh-so-good with his damn hands ). coupled with this pride, satoru gojo was a patient man: you could wiggle, you could squirm, and you could even spasm against him. all it meant was that he was performing perfectly for you, and that’s all he ever wanted — but while his patience ran long, eventually it also ran thin. especially tonight when you’d finally allowed him to have a taste of your pretty cunt like he’d begged for months after you'd let him finger you whenever you both felt up for it. 
“hold still, wanna see what you taste like,” satoru orders, nipping at the inside of your thigh before slapping at the outside and resuming having ‘just a taste’ as he’d called it before having you fall apart from his mouth alone twice in the last half hour, and the third time was swiftly approaching. 
“well? what do i taste like?”you laugh breathlessly, cheeks hot and heart pounding as he focuses all of his attention on tasting as much of your sensitive cunt as he can. 
“mine.”
the growled response that follows has you allowing your head to fall back again as a fresh coarse of heat races through you, and your hands instinctively fall down to bury themselves in his soft white hair, knotting your fingers in it and tugging slightly. he moans again, and as you spread your legs apart farther to allow him even more access to your hole, he groans out his thanks — and you?
you just relax and allow yourself to enjoy the ride. 
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
cutielando · 2 months
Note
social media au request for y/n narrating the grill the grid games and george russell is immediately in love so the rest of the boys spend their whole interviews trying to wingman george and talk about how gentlemanly he is?
also would you ever add logan sargeant to your master list?
social media au
synopsis: the request basically ✨
my masterlist
♡♡♡♡♡
Instagram
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by f1, georgerussell63 and 194,712 others
yourusername GRILL THE GRID INCOMING ‼️
view all 30,184 comments
landonorris please go easy on me this year
yourusername no❤️
landonorris 🥲
charles_leclerc i’m afraid of participating
yourusername ????? i’m harmless
charles_leclerc and i’m a world champion
yourusername did you just diss yourself?🫣
charles_leclerc …yes…
georgerussell63 glad to have you with us, Y/N!😊
yourusername always a pleasure doing business with you guys! 🥰
landonorris 👀
charles_leclerc 👀👀
maxverstappen1 👀👀👀
alex_albon 👀👀👀👀
lilymhe go hard on them!!
yourusername i will!!!
alex_albon babe???????????
user1 OMG YES FINALLY !!!!
user2 Y/N torturing the grid during this is my favorite thing in the whole world 🤣❤️❤️
user3 DID NOBODY SEE THE COMMENTS?????
user4 our favorite time of the year has finally arrived
user5 ALL HAIL THE QUEEN OF F1
YouTube
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Twitter
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Instagram
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by lilymhe, alex_albon and 391,482 others
yourusername testing it out for myself
view all 83,195 comments
user1 Y/N AND GEORGE????????
lilymhe 👀👀👀 i feel like i'm watching a live rom-com
yourusername you and me both babe 😅
alex_albon is this what i think it is?
yourusername nothing is what you think it is, like ever
alex_albon hey, no need to bully me 🥲
yourusername but you know i love doing it
landonorris i'm curious to see how things progress🤭
yourusername what makes you think you're going to be kept in the loop?????
landonorris ... but we're friends
yourusername who told you that?
landonorris 😟
yourusername 😇
georgerussell63 must be one lucky lad 😉
yourusername he really is. we both are😌
user2 i can't with these two, they're so unserious😂
user3 did we actually convince George to ask Y/N out?
user4 i think we did😅😅
carlossainz55 are you with George?
yourusername i am not at liberty to discuss this at the moment
carlossainz55 oooooh, i understand. my apologies
user6 carlos is such a dad😭😭😭
charles_leclerc did you like the restaurant?
yourusername ...i did, why?
charles_leclerc i recommended it
yourusername interesting. is there anything else i should know?
georgerussell63 you would do well to shut your mouth, mate🥰
charles_leclerc yourusername nothing else to report
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by yourusername, landonorris and 901,284 others
georgerussell63 finally grew a pair tagged: yourusername
view all 198,274 comments
yourusername you're cute <3
georgerussell63 you're cuter <3
landonorris you're welcome 😁
georgerussell63 thank you, my good friend lando
landonorris 🥰🥰
charles_leclerc you were hopeless, mate😅
georgerussell63 i wasn't that bad
yourusername george, babe. yes, you were.
georgerussell63 :(
lilymhe i’m so happy for you guys 😭😭 finally
yourusername thank you honey 🥰🥰🥰
georgerussell63 were you all waiting for me to ask her out?
carlossainz55 yes
charles_leclerc yes
landonorris yes
alex_albon yes
yourusername yes
georgerussell63 …i really am clueless
user1 WE WON GUYS ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
f1 The couple we have been waiting for ❤️❤️
georgerussell63 admin too?
f1 yup. thought you’d never do it
yourusername 😅😅
francisca.cgomes YYYAAAAAAAYYYY❤️❤️❤️
yourusername ❤️❤️
Tumblr media
I really hope you like it !!!! Had very much fun writing it!!
It’s not as long as I would have liked it to be because I barely had time to breathe today but i really hope you like it !! ❤️
As for Logan, I might add him to my masterlist in the upcoming weeks, once I get my shit together and balance out writing with my studies haha
♡♡♡♡♡
comments and re-blogs help us grow!
much appreciated!!
JOIN MY TAG LIST HERE
REQUEST HERE
♡♡♡♡♡
Tag list: @outerudeth @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @dardouni @saturnssunflower @moony-artemis @blissfulsunsetstuff @samantha-chicago @nikfigueiredo @therealcap @iloveyou3000morgan @daemyratwst @rqlstefanny @bwormie @hangmandruigandmav @kagome45 @enidsinclairaddamsthesecond @tallrock35 @sesamepancakes @boywondrgrayson @evlkking @evie-119 @ijustwanttoreadlols @cixrosie @poppyflower-22 @hiireadstuff @ellouisa17 @paintedbypoetry @hellowgoodbye @lpab @xlinxdax0704 @decafmickey @teti-menchon0604 @ctrlyomomma @sya-skies @likedbygaslyy @booksandflowrs @acidburnsthings @dhanihamidi @mynameisangeloflife @5starl1ght @teamnovalak @ferrarisfailedstrats @basicuniter @jxnellat
589 notes · View notes
luveline · 7 months
Note
hello miss jade ily! since you’re feeling the marauders right now, may i request something with any of the boys, pre-relationship and too lovestruck to speak? reader has done something innocuous, or she’s literally just standing there, and he can’t not break and smother her?
hello lovely, thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k
modern au 
You let yourself in quietly. Remus can tell without raising his eyes from his laptop that it's you. James would shout hello, Sirius would beeline for the downstairs bathroom. You close the door with care and leave your shoes under the stairs; Remus can picture you turning your head to one side gently, listening for signs of life. 
"James?" you ask.
"Just me," Remus says. 
You come around the doorway, beaming at him like he's the one you were looking for the whole time. "Hey, Remus. Don't suppose you know when James is back? He's going to take me to the garage so they don't rip me off." 
"Uh, no, but– but I could go with you?" he suggests. Remus isn't your boyfriend, but he wishes desperately that he was and he thinks that's a boyfriend's duty to perform, right? "I'd be happy to." 
Your phone dings. You pull it out with a smile. "Oh, it's James," you say, "he's still coming, but he's late. That's fine, I didn't have an appointment or anything. I'd love for you to come if you want, though, baby." 
Remus chokes on nothing, clearing his throat and sitting up to not seem so pathetic. "I'll come." Because baby? Baby?!
"Brilliant. How's you writing?" 
"Uh, it's, you know, happening. Slowly." 
Remus is admittedly much more collected regularly, but your sudden arrival, your smiling, and now your pet name, you've thrown him for a loop. He's doubly thrown when you sit down on the sofa beside him, no polite space, thigh to thigh and close enough to smell the oils in your hair. 
"I'm not looking, I promise," you say. 
Writing is a raw process. Knowing someone else's eyes are on it magnifies the flaws, but he realises with certainty that he doesn't care if you see it, flaws and all. "That's fine. I don't mind so long as it's you." 
"Lucky me," you say. 
You take your phone out. Remus doesn't mean to pry but you're right there, and your phone screen brightness is high. The text thread between you and James is open, your thumbs penning a quick response. 
Hey James, are we still meeting at the house? I'm omw. 2:17PM
yeah of course, remus is there so go have a cup of tea ill be there soon 2:30PM
ok 2:31PM
sorry running late !! Promise I'll be there, have remus make you a scone :) 2:40PM
I like him too much to have him act like my serf, you can buy us both big salted pretzels on the way home to say sorry for wasting his time 2:45PM
I'm sure he's just gutted to spend time with you 2:46PM
Nice one, James, Remus thinks incredulously. That's exactly what Remus needs, more evidence that he fancies you. You don't seem to have noticed either way, swinging a leg over your knee and finishing another text to James. 
I hope not, I love spending time with him 2:48PM
Remus turns to his computer screen, elated and guilty at once. He was not supposed to see that, surely. 
"Your word count is really climbing," you say, tucking your phone away. "A hundred and fifty thousand. I can't imagine writing so much… will you have to cut that down?" 
"Yep. Much more chance of being published if I fit their standard count. It'll need at least forty thousand words shaved off." 
You shake your head. "I can't imagine putting in all that work and then having to put in more work to get rid of it." 
"Think of it like refining, instead," he suggests, his fingertip sliding across the laptop's space bar. "I'm making sure nothing is boring." 
"I doubt it's boring if you're the one writing it." You stand to his surprise and stretch, a slice of your waist appearing as you twist away from him, an audible click emitting from your back as you roll your shoulders. "Can I make a cup of tea, please?" 
You've had a hundred cups of tea in this house. 
"You know you don't have to ask," Remus says. 
"But it's always nice to ask first," you say as you leave. 
He suspects you were talking more to yourself than him as you occasionally do, and he pays little mind to your movements in the kitchen. He has a lot of work to do and not nearly enough time to do it, and editing isn't as simple as cutting away. It's not obvious what needs to go. Remus has to have a deep think. 
He gets distracted. When you return he barely notices, busy rewriting a clunky sentence. It's not until your pinky finger brushes his arm that Remus remembers you're here, emphasis on you, and that he's besotted. 
When he looks up, he doesn't suppose he'll ever forget again. 
You're at his side neatening a plate of biscuits and toasted scones, the very tip of your tongue peaking between your lips in concentration. It's a simple thing, some might even find it unattractive, but you're totally focused on the plate of biscuits, your lovely eyebrows tightly pinched. 
You seem upset, for a moment. 
Then you meet his eye and any trace of unhappiness vanishes. You're smiling again, eyes alight with something he can't name. "I got you a couple of biscuits and stuff, hope that wasn't too forward. You never remember to eat when you're writing." 
"Oh, sweetheart," he says unbidden to himself, hands paused at his laptop, "that's not too forward." 
He sets his laptop aside and stands. There's nothing for it, no hold to bar —Remus steps forward to kiss your cheek and squeeze the top of your arm, the kiss swift and the squeeze less so. 
"Don't set up around me," he continues fondly, "we'll go have tea in the kitchen with the window open. You can tell me about your day, please. I should've asked you earlier." 
"Don't worry, there's nothing important to share," you say, and to Remus' delight, you've visibly flustered. 
His hand slides down the length of your arm to your hand, where he holds your fingers in his palm. "If it's about you, it's important. Mm?" 
You stare down at his chest and laugh softly. "Okay." 
It's a credit to his self restraint that he doesn't kiss you then and there. 
2K notes · View notes
bbydoll18xx · 7 days
Text
Keep the Edits Cordial
A tik tok edit of two best friends coaxes out admissions of feelings (and orgasms)
Paige Bueckers x reader
word count: 3.2k
themes: mutual pining (LOML), friends to lovers, smut!!
warnings: i like using the word ‘fuck’, 18+
Thanks for the love on my first post! This is my first attempt at writing smut, so bear with me. I have a few more ideas if y'all are interested!
Despite not being on the uconn’s women's basketball team, or having any shred of athletic ability, you had befriended Paige Bueckers, and her teammates, as an extension, had adopted you with open arms. So you weren't out of place sitting in the apartment of Paige and several of her teammates while she was in class.
“Oh fuck, shit, shit, shit,” you hear KK Arnold swear over on the couch across from where you were sitting, attempting to get some homework done.
A sensual R&B song plays from her phone several times, as her eyes nearly pop out of her head while she watches.
You look up, mildly annoyed at the noise, but you were used to KK’s antics and her overdramatics. 
“What the hell is the issue?” you ask.
“Umm…nothing,” she drawls. “Be right back, girly boo. Don’t move.” She runs into Azzi’s room, where Azzi and Caroline were attempting to also be productive. 
That was damn near impossible when KK was around.
Your interest peaks as you hear the same music play from KK’s phone again several times over and the giggles and gasps of the three girls fill the bedroom. 
“Paige is gonna flip if she sees this,” Azzi says matter-of-factly, as you strain to hear the full conversation.
‘What would make Paige flip?’ you wonder. 
“I gotta show this to Ice!” You hear KK exclaim a little too loudly, causing the other two girls to shush her. 
KK runs back into the main living space of the apartment where you were sitting. She picks up her stuff with a shit-eating grin before waving to you and rushing out the door.
She was so fucking weird.
Giving up on the essay you were supposed to be finishing, you toss your laptop down and head into the bedroom where Caroline and Azzi are heatedly whispering. They stop as soon as your footsteps near the door. 
Why were they acting so suspicious?
“Ladies, would you mind telling me what the actual fuck just happened?” you ask sarcastically. Being out of the loop was not fun.
“Oh you know, just KK being KK,” Azzi said, brushing it off. “Nothing that concerns you really.”
“But it concerns Paige?” you prod, trying to get any information out of her. Being around Azzi for years at this point, you had grown to learn her weak spots. 
Your eyes narrow, and you stare her down in a way you could only hope was somewhat threatening. 
“If it concerns Paige I wanna know. We’re best friends, c’mon please,” you whine. “Is it another one of those thirsty edits?” 
Azzi shakes her head and makes a zip of the lip motion. 
You roll your eyes at her childish behavior and look over to Caroline expectantly. She just shrugs. They were no help at all.
“Fine!” You say with a tone of indignation. “I'll find that stupid tik tok myself and see what all the fuss is about.” You spin on your heels and walk out of the room with sheer determination. You miss the smirk Azzi and Caroline share once your back is turned. 
You were so fucked.
You type ‘Paige Bueckers’ into the tik tok search bar and begin to scroll with the volume up to identify the same sound blasting out of KK’s phone just a minute ago. 
Your head gets a little fuzzy as your vision is assaulted with video upon video of Paige. You were used to calming the jump of your heart when you were around her, but the hedonistic edits made you want to scream. Each edit you came to had clips of her flexing, grinning, and sticking her tongue out in a way that made you want to rub your thighs together. They were paired with lascivious lyrics that caused you to nearly let out a whine. 
You had been avoiding tik tok recently for this exact reason. Trying to act normal around Paige all the time was difficult enough. You did not need a ridiculous app to fuel the fantasies that threatened to creep into your mind at every waking moment.
At least your screen time was way down.
Your scrolling quickly stopped as you felt your heart quite literally stop. It was you. In all its glory, with a staggering amount of likes, comments, and views, was what looked to be an edit of you and Paige.
What the fuck?
Your hands shaking, you clicked onto it, hearing the same song as earlier. This was the one the girls were freaking out about. 
“Azzi, Caroline, get your asses out here,” you yell, trying to conceal your panic.
They slowly strolled out of the room looking worried. 
“I see you found it,” Azzi said with a laugh. “So what do you think now that you’ve seen it?” 
Both girls tried to gauge your reaction, but you were more concerned about the fact that Azzi had said earlier that Paige would be pissed about it.
You shrug. You had to choose your words carefully. “Well there are edits of you and Paige together,” you reason. “Lots of people think you two are in some secret relationship, and P has never minded. Why would this be any different?” 
“Everyone knows that you and Paige have a special friendship,” Caroline alludes. It goes right over your head.
“Well if she is bothered by this then we are not as close as I thought,” you say quietly, still watching the tik tok, as it plays again. You wanted this edit burned into your retinas. 
Occasionally you allowed yourself to feel a tiny sliver of hope that you and Paige could ever be anything more than friends. Everytime she gave you a late night cuddle or placed a hand around your waist, as if it naturally belonged there, made you long for more. You knew better than to feel hopeful though. This stupid edit did nothing to quell the burning need for the tall blonde.
Throwing your phone down, you look up at the two basketball players with a look of indifference you’ve learned to master. “It doesn’t even matter,” you whisper dejectedly.
“C’mon, we all know how you actually feel about Paige. She’s the only one dense enough not to see how crazy you are for her,” Azzi soothes. “Maybe it's time to be honest with her. You never know what she’s feeling until you talk to her.”
You laugh. Fuck that. Feelings are meant to be kept inside until you die or they go away. 
You’re hoping the latter will come sooner rather than later, but you doubt you'll get that lucky.
“I don't think so,” you scoff. “I need to go before Paige gets back.” 
You leave despite the protests of the two girls, and you make a plan to hide from Paige for the next few days. You knew it was only a matter of time before Ice and KK went running to Paige to show her the edit. 
45 fucking minutes. That was how long it took before your door was being bombarded by Paige and her delightfully rambunctious children, Ice and KK. You swore under your breath as you quickly weighed your options. Option 1 was simple: pretend you were gone, although the smell of your microwave popcorn could have easily given you away. Option 2 was the grown up thing to do: open the door and have a conversation like an adult. Option 3 was straight up crazy: jump out of the window and run for the damn hills. You glanced at the open window of your bedroom before shaking your head. You needed to stop watching too much television. 
Option 1 was it. Fuck being an adult.
You stood next to the door, waiting for the three girls to give up, but they refused to leave.
“I know you’re in there, c’mon let me just talk to you,” said Paige through the door. “KK and Ice can leave.”
You hesitate, but still reach for the knob of the door. 
“Please?” Paige asks again, causing you to let out a sigh of defeat and turn the lock so she can come in. 
“Are you pissed?” Paige questions, somewhat harshly, as she walks through your door.
You give her a look of confusion. 
“Of course not!” you exclaim. “I thought you might be, though. I heard Azzi tell KK and Caroline earlier that you would flip if you saw it. I was just worried it would make you feel uncomfortable, and then our friendship would feel awkward, and I-” you ramble, trying to make some sense of what you were feeling.
Paige cuts you off with a wave of her hand. “You could never make me feel uncomfortable. I was worried it made you uncomfortable. I wanted to come check on you as soon as KK showed it to me,” she replied gently. “Me and Azzi, we’re used to the rumors, but I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about people thinking we’re, ya know, in love.” She whispers the last two words as if it was some big secret.
You let out a shaky laugh. “It means nothing to me. That would be ridiculous anyway,” you lie smoothly. Burying your feelings for Paige was an artform for you now. 
A quick shadow of something that was hard to read flickered over Paige’s face. You chose to ignore it. ‘It’s easier that way, less messy and complicated,’ you thought sadly. Little did you know, things would get even messier and more complicated. 
Two days later you were sitting in class when you hear the same fucking R&B song playing from your classmates phone. You look over at her, meeting her eyes. She smirks and slides closer to you. 
“So you and Paige Bueckers, huh?” she says curiously, almost like a taunt. “I’d imagine she’s incredible in bed.”
Her hypothesis startles you.
Who the fuck says that to someone they barely know? You feel your pulse rise in anger, wanting to defend your friend. You feel hot with jealousy. Anyone thinking about your Paigey in a sexual manner made your blood boil. In your mind, she was only yours.
You decided it would be fun to play into it. You lean closer to the gossipy bitch, and with a whisper you say, “you have no idea the things she does to me. Fuckk, I mean, we’ve all seen the edits. Her tongue is always out.” The obnoxious brunette to your left looks shocked, and she rolls her chair further away from you. 
With a satisfied smirk, you try to calm the pounding of your heart. ‘What the fuck did I just do,’ you thought. Rule number 1 of being Paige’s friend and only her friend was to avoid thinking of her in the way you really want to. That means no fantasizing, no tik tok edits, and absolutely no talking about having sex with her.
You lay your head onto the desk. What an idiot you were.
As the class comes to a close, you escape quickly to avoid any awkward looks from other people on campus. The last few days have left you feeling unsettled as the edit of you and Paige reached ridiculous levels of popularity. Everyone was now thinking you were somehow involved. You hated how much you wished that to be true.
You had promised Paige that you would hang out once you were finished with your class, trying to keep a semblance of normalcy to your friendship. You rolled into her apartment anxiously, calling out for her. Paige pokes her head out of her bedroom, waving you in with an equally anxious smile.
This worries you. Paige was always the grounded one of the pair of you. Her nervous demeanor makes you think something is wrong. You take a deep breath before sitting opposite her on her bed. It smelled like the lotion she always wears, and you subconsciously inhale a bit longer than normal.
Fuck she smells so good.
Paige stares at you for a few seconds, making you feel hot under her gaze. Those eyes piercing into your soul made you want to scream her name until the neighbors could hear. She takes a breath. “So basically everyone thinks we’re in love,” she deadpans. Her nonchalance makes you squirm. How the hell does she feel about being uconn’s newest gossip train? It's hard to tell.
“Yeah, I kind of figured when I was just asked in class about how you are in bed,” you mutter, blushing at the confession.
Paige looks vaguely surprised at first, before replacing the look with a smirk. “What’d you tell ‘em?” she questions.
With a sudden surge of confidence that you typically only get from ample amounts of alcohol, you reply, “I told her that all those edits of you with your tongue sticking out could only mean one thing.”
Paige grins cheekily. “You’re not wrong. I am great with my tongue. Maybe one day I can show you.”
You think your heart had never beat this fast in your entire fucking life. You were still feeling particularly bold, so you murmur, “I’m free now?” There was no way Paige was going to agree to that, so you get up to leave, before you feel her hand grab yours, pulling you back into her.
“Don’t fucking play with me right now,” Paige demands. “Do you actually want this? Do you want me?” 
You nod your head embarrassingly fast. You felt like an overexcited puppy. “P, I’ve wanted this since the first time I saw you.”
“Good,” the blonde replies. “Me too. Now let me show you all of my little tongue tricks.”
Paige grabs your jaw with one hand, placing the other around your throat to keep you right where she wanted you. Your lips meet finally, and everything around you fades into nothingness. 
Oh my God, she tastes so good. Paige presses hot, open-mouth kisses down your throat, sending shivers through your whole body and right down between your legs.
“Need you naked for me, babe,” hums Paige. ‘For her you would fight a war,’ you thought, as you stripped your sweatshirt off, revealing the pretty pink lace of your bralette.
You mentally high five yourself for your underwear choices this morning. Showing up in your granny panties would’ve been terrible.
Paige helps you out of your jeans and starts placing tantalizing kisses over your inner thighs and stomach. You can feel your arousal leaking out of you already, making you feel slick with the anticipation of what was to come.
Paige notices the wet spot on your panties, grinning as she lightly blows air over your clothed pussy. You arch your back wantonly, needing more-so much more. 
“Please, Paigey,” you whine in a way that gives Paige a big head. “Need you so bad.”
“Use your words, baby. What do you need?” she coaxes, still alternating between kissing your inner thighs and swirling her fingers against your clothed clit. 
“Please just touch me, I’ll do anything for you,” you moan brokenly. You could feel yourself start to slip into some sort of subspace. At this point, you’d do anything just to get some more stimulation.
“So polite, aren’t you, babe? I’m gonna take good care of you,” Paige promises before ripping your soaked panties off in one quick motion.
For the first time, you were splayed out naked in front of your best friend, with her having all the power in the world over you. Before you could begin to feel insecure under her piercing gaze, Paige swirled two long fingers into your sopping pussy, admiring how easily turned on you got for her. She brought them up to her mouth, sucking them in and moaning about how good you tasted. 
“You taste as sweet as I’ve been imagining for years,” she whispers. “Have a taste.” She brings the same two fingers up to your mouth and drags them across your swollen lips.
You lick your lips and groan at the taste of your own arousal, wiggling around on the bed and humping the air to get any sort of pleasure. Paige presses your hips flush against the mattress, keeping you from moving. She was yours to control as she wished. Finally, she brought her mouth down to your burning heat, starting with a long and slow lick up your pussy. It felt so good you could cry.
“More, P, need more,” you cry. She was being a fucking tease, and you could feel yourself go crazy as she ate you out slowly, as if she was eating her last meal on earth.
She granted you some reprieve as she entered a finger and then another into you, slowly stretching you out with scissoring motions. 
“So wet for me, aren’t you my pretty baby,” she gloats, and you try to avoid rolling your eyes back into your head in pleasure. Her fingers pick up a cruel and punishing pace, targeting your g-spot as if it had her name written on it.
She fucking owned you.
Paige, still finger fucking you, presses kisses up your belly, onto your tits, before meeting you in another searing kiss. You want to sob at the sheer pleasure. It was overwhelming; the heat of your best friend’s body pressed flush against you, the moans ricocheting off the walls, and the tightening in your lower belly that threatened to spill everywhere.
“Fuckkk, Paigey, I-i’m gonna cum,” you moan breathlessly. “Please, please let me cum, please I need you,” you whine in an incoherent babble of pleasure. 
“Cum for me, baby, I’ve got you,” Paige pants out, riding the highs of dominating you and ensuring the unceasing assault of your g-spot.
With a guttural moan and a string of words that would make a sailor blush, you ride out your high. Paige’s fingers slow as you pant, coming back to reality. She watches your chest rise and fall a few seconds before removing her fingers from your fucked out pussy and licking them clean.
“You did so good for me,” she praises, causing you to squirm, activating your praise kink once again.
“Thank you,” you whisper. “This isn’t going to make things weird now, is it?” you question anxiously. That was the last thing you wanted to happen.
“‘Course not,” promised Paige, linking her pinky finger with yours. “I’m plannin’ on wifing you up now.”
You giggle as the last bits of awkwardness fall away, feeling blissfully fucked out. “What about you, though?” you ask. You wanted to make Paige feel as good as she made you.
“We’ve got all the time in the world, baby,” she replies. “You look like you’re about five seconds away from fallin’ asleep.”
You smile sleepily at her. She knew you a little too well.
 “I should send a thank you card to whoever made that edit of us,” you murmured against Paige’s chest, making her laugh.
“And I'm definitely getting rid of all three of my vibrators,” you announce, causing Paige to grin proudly.
Paige was unquestionably okay with that.
691 notes · View notes
euovennia · 1 year
Text
"what's so funny?" | task force 141
this blurb has been on my mind so much ever since it first appeared in my inbox and i'm so happy to have finally written it, my dumb little gen z brain couldn't resist. thank you for requesting, and as always, i hope you enjoy <3
pairing: youngest!reader x (platonic) task force 141
warnings: none
summary: the team gets curious when you seem to having just a little too much fun while scrolling through your phone. (based on this request)
The team doesn't seem to notice your small huffs of laughter at first, and if they do, they don't seem to give it a second thought. Why would they? You laughing at random videos on your phone had practically become second nature to them by this point. So, they remain quiet, each of them doing their own separate thing in the common area. Gaz reading some random article about sharks on his phone, Ghost and Soap watching some low-budget action film on the television, and Price busying himself with some random crossword from a book of puzzles he'd picked up for himself not too long ago. They don't bother to interrupt your screen time as you sit propped up in the corner with your phone in your hands. They've come to learn you're often far too enthralled with the minute long videos you religiously scroll through to give them more than a quick smile of acknowledgement. They don't mind, however, it seems to make you happy.
Even so, they can't help but each feel a little curious as your faint smiles of amusement turn into small fits of giggles that you can barely contain with a painful bite to your lip. By the time Gaz finishes up reading his article, you're practically bursting at the seams as you try to contain your laughter. He watches you from across the room with great interest as you give your phone screen another swipe with a swift movement of your thumb. He keeps his eyes concentrated on your smiling face, eagerly waiting to see your reaction to the video you're currently watching. He's glad he did, because he's first to witness the way your resolve practically shatters as you fall into a loud fit of laughter. Each of the men give each other a shared look before Ghost stands up from the uncomfortable couch and makes his way over to you.
He stops just a few steps shy of you, "What's so funny?"
You give yourself a moment to calm down and take in a deep breath before handing him your phone with a large grin. He watches the video, his brows knitting themselves together in a state of confusion before he looks back down at you once the short video is finished playing.
"You're kidding me."
You grab your phone from his hands and haphazardly place it back onto the small table before standing up and grabbing his wrist.
"We need to do that, now."
He lets out a grunt, "We're not fuckin'–"
He's cut off by you reaching forward and grabbing onto his wrist with a soft touch.
"Please? I really wanna do it."
His eyes flicker back over to the video that's looping itself on your phone before settling his gaze back onto you who's staring up at him with a dopey grin and hopeful eyes. He's found he has a hard time saying no to you nowadays.
He sighs, "Fine."
Your face glistens with delight at his words and you're quick to pull him away from the room with the rest of the team still being able to hear you say something like, "this is gonna be so funny!"
Price, convinced you've whisked Ghost away to take part in something diabolical, quickly gets up from his chair and makes his way over to your abandoned phone. He picks it up with a careful grip and watches the video that's still looping.
Soap is the first to speak up after a few moments have passed, "What was it?"
Price's face is one of pure confusion as he turns the phone to face the men awaiting his response, "It's just a slice of bread falling over."
Gaz's face lights up as he gets up from his seat, "I wanna see some bread fall over," He cheers before rushing off in the direction of where you had taken Ghost.
The remaining two men watch him scurry off before turning to each other, the eldest of the two looking exceptionally confused as he speaks out, "Is this meant to be funny?"
Soap shrugs, "I prefer the one where the bread is having flashbacks, but the original one is fine too."
Price gapes at the Scotsman, "Flashbacks?!"
6K notes · View notes
nereidprinc3ss · 5 months
Note
omg i'm obsessed with the idea of spencer and a university student and i looooved the one you wrote with reader struggling with finals (i relate so much </3) i'm not sure if you write requests or not (if not, then i'm sorry and please ignore this hahaha) but i would love to see more of their dynamic? maybe spencer for once arrives earlier from a case and goes to pick up reader from university as a surprise? i don't really know but i would love to see more 💗 thank you and i hope you have a good day!
AHHHH omg you have NO IDEA how excited I was to open my inbox and see a request!! i am absolutely obsessed w spencer x uni student too
i kind of took this and ran w it so its a little angsty and random LOLOL but here is (drumroll)
spencer picking up reader after you fail an exam (sorry lol) and you are NOT in a good mood but he loves you so its fine
Tears, partly from the bitter wind and partly from shame, blur your phone screen as you exit the lecture hall. Another missed call from Spencer. It’s the third one today—you've been ignoring them in an attempt to remain focused on the final that you just bombed. Part of you now wants to keep ignoring them out of sheer embarrassment. How can you admit to your super-genius boyfriend that you are a bona fide academic failure? Still, you don’t want him wondering about you while he should be working. Your numb fingers fumble with the phone as you try to call him back without running into anybody on your walk back to student housing. 
It doesn’t reach the second ring before he’s picking up. 
“Hey,” he sighs. “I was starting to worry.” 
“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy,” you exhale, cutting through some trees as you approach your building. “What’s up? How’s the case?” 
“Well... that’s actually what I’ve been calling about. We wrapped up this morning.” 
“What? But last night you said it would be at least three more days.” 
“Rare instance of me being wrong, I guess.” 
“So when are you flying back?” you ask, not wanting to get your hopes up. You know sometimes his team stays behind to help with processing a case. He doesn’t reply for a moment. “Spencer?” 
“I’m... thirteen minutes away from your school. Twelve.” 
Your brain short-circuits as you process his words, the cold metal of the door handle biting into your fingers as you stop dead in your tracks. 
“You--are you driving here right now?” 
“Yes,” he begins, sounding embarrassed, “I kept calling because I wanted to ask first, but I know you had your last final this morning and you were going to come over when I got back anyway so I thought you might want to come stay with me for a few extra days. You can say no, obviously—” 
Some of the icy despair melts in your chest. 
“Of course, I want to.” 
“Good,” he exhales a laugh. “It would have been awkward if you said no. Can you have a bag packed by the time I get there?” 
You’re speedwalking through the lobby now, hitting the up button for the elevator more times than is necessarily effective. 
“Drive faster.” 
“Yes, ma’am.” 
By the time you blindly shove enough clothing in a bag, text your roommate to let her know you’ll be gone for the rest of the week, and make it back outside, Spencer’s familiar vintage car is already pulling up to the curb. He doesn’t even bother cutting the engine—just puts it in park and gets out, rounding the vehicle as you close the distance between one another. His smile is brilliant, and though you don’t feel particularly deserving of it, it’s for you. 
“Hi,” you breathe shakily as he loops his arms around your waist. 
“Hi, pretty,” he says, already leaning down to kiss you. It’s soft and sweet over too quickly, but then he’s gently pulling you into him. You drop your bag and bury your face in his jacket, trying to right yourself before you go into an emotional tailspin. 
As usual, he smells like lavender, clove, resinous amber. It makes your head spin. Right away you feel yourself relaxing; feel your guard slipping, like it always does when he’s around. 
“I missed you.” The words are quiet to begin with, muffled further by the fabric of his coat, but you know he’ll hear you. 
“I missed you too,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “Everything okay?” 
Why are you always surprised when a man who works for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI accurately analyzes your behavior? 
“Just tired. Can we go home?” You pull back enough to look up at him, meeting his fond—and just a little concerned—gaze, averting your eyes before he has time to discern your... omission of truth. 
“Yeah, angel. Of course we can.” 
He opens the passenger side door for you, making sure you’re settled before tossing your bag in the back seat and circling around the back of the car. 
“Is that coffee?” You say as soon as he slides into the driver’s seat. His eyes dart down to the tumbler in the center cupholder as he buckles. 
“It’s from the jet. You won’t like it.” 
Despite his warning you reach over to grab it, taking a small sip as he puts the car into gear and pulls out of the parking lot. You make a sour face. Spencer glances over. 
“I told you it was bad.” 
You yawn, putting it back in the cupholder. “It was worth a shot.” 
Jazz music plays quietly from the speakers and the heat is blasting, but you’re too busy mentally rehashing question 37 to find it relaxing. 
“You didn’t get enough sleep last night,” he states. Not a question. Outside, the brick buildings of your campus roll by. You wonder if all the students rushing about on the sidewalks and side streets failed any of their finals.  
“Couldn’t,” you mumble flatly, picking at your nails.  
There’s a moment’s pause, and you’re imagining all the things you could have done differently. You’ve never failed a final before. If you’d just studied a little bit harder—if you’d stayed in instead of going out last weekend, if you weren’t so— 
“I’m going to ask you something, and I don’t think you’re going to like it,” Spencer says. 
“Mhm,” you hum, too afraid to speak because your eyes are already stinging again. Honestly, you’re surprised you made it this far without him getting the truth out of you. He offers his hand across the console as you slink down in your seat, and you take it, allowing him to run his thumb over yours in soothing lines. 
“How do you think your final went?” 
You bite the inside of your cheek, the bare branches of the trees outside blurring as you stare unseeingly. 
“Not good. Like, I definitely failed, not good. I'm an idiot.” 
“You absolutely are not an idiot.” 
“You didn’t see me taking the test, Spencer. I literally just sat there staring at it for ten minutes before I even answered one question. It was pathetic.” 
“Did you sleep at all last night?” 
The question takes you by surprise. Your frown deepens. 
“What? I don’t—that’s not—" 
“Just answer the question. Did you sleep at all last night?” 
“Yes!” 
“Don't lie to me.” 
“Fuck you! I slept for like two hours and had coffee this morning!”  
He squeezes your hand. 
“That’s why you failed.” 
The first tear traces its path down your cheek, composure overwhelmed by the confrontation. 
“I hate when you use your stupid interrogation tactics on me,” you say, voice wobbling. And then the crying begins in earnest. 
“I know, baby.” 
His hand moves to rub your back when you let go to cover your face. Torrential evidence of your frustration and utter exhaustion well over, slipping through your fingers despite your best efforts to stop them from coming at all. Having an emotional breakdown in the passenger seat of his car is far from how you’d wanted to greet Spencer’s surprise arrival, but you’re too worn out to mask your emotions—especially when he is so adept at drawing them to the surface. 
A moment passes like that before you take a shuddering breath, raising your head slightly and wiping your cheeks with your sleeves in vain. 
“I should have been able to do it. I just—it was like I was reading the questions and I knew that I should know the answers, but I couldn’t remember anything.” 
“You’re exhausted. Sleep deprivation has an immediate, devastating effect on cognitive functioning levels. My recall and processing speed start to fail when I’m tired, too. It has nothing to do with how smart you are.” 
It makes sense—but it doesn’t make you feel much better. You wanted to ace this exam. Of course, Spencer wouldn’t understand because school was as easy as breathing for him. He barely had to try to get three doctorates. It’s possible, you suppose, that dating a genius has put an academic chip on your shoulder—maybe you’ve set impossibly high standards for yourself.  
After a few minutes the crying finally ebbs, if only because you’re running into supply and demand problems with your tear ducts. You rub your weepy eyes on your shoulder, leaning against the cold window and watching DC go by. 
“You know, the final isn’t as important as you think it is. You’ll still pass the class.” 
“It’s symbolic,” you mumble, breath fogging up the glass. Spencer hums, still rubbing your back. 
“I know. I know it matters to you, but I don’t want you to think one bad grade is a reflection of who you are. Do you understand why it doesn’t make sense to measure something as abstract as intelligence by a metric as one dimensional as a standardized test?” 
“Yes.” 
“Good.” 
You shift in your seat, wiping your face with your sleeve and prompting Spencer to take your other hand once more. 
“Can your FBI friend hack the university database and give me an A?” you ask after a moment, sniffling. 
“Absolutely not.” 
“Pretty please?” 
“Nope.” 
“It’s like you don’t even love me,” you mutter, angling yourself away from him.  
He pulls your hand toward him and presses a kiss to the back of it. 
“I love you so much that I don’t want you to get expelled for academic dishonesty.” 
“It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll probably just drop out.” 
You both know you’re just being overdramatic, but Spencer has a tendency to be sweet even when you don’t deserve it. 
“I’ll love you no matter what you do.” 
You blush, unable to come up with a sufficient reply. His eyes slide to you briefly and he smirks, clearly enjoying his ability to fluster you, and by extension, get you to shut up. 
“Eyes on the road, genius,” you grumble. But for the first time today you’re fighting a smile instead of tears. 
756 notes · View notes