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slasher-male-wife · 6 months

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Horror characters seeing their s/o covered in blood

Happy Halloween everyone. I did a poll awhile ago on what I should post for Halloween and this won. So I'm here to deliver what y'all voted on. I included a lot of characters in this just for fun. Disclaimer I haven't written for some of these characters in awhile or that much at all, so sorry if some of these are ooc.

Includes: Amanda Young, Michael Myers, Otis Driftwood, The Lost Boys, Candyman, Doomhead, Patrick Bateman, Severen Van Sickle, Pyramid Head, and The Sinclair brothers

Warnings: Mentions of real and fake blood, slightly suggestive content, gn reader, talk of drinking blood in The Lost Boys and Severen's section, violence, murder

Amanda Young

You weren't supposed to find out about what Amanda did. She wanted to keep you separate from the gore of her apprentice work. But accidents happen and somehow you get to where a trap had happened.

You were in the where-house when you slipped on a puddle of blood and got your entire front half covered in it. You screamed out and Amanda quickly came rushing in.

You standing there covered in blood made something tick inside of Amanda. Something she knows she shouldn't feel seeing you covered in blood.

But she pushes this aside and quickly assures you it's fake blood that happened to spill all over the ground. She can't stop herself from giving you a quick kiss before helping you leave.

She'll get you all cleaned up back at home but she won't be able to stop thinking about seeing you covered in blood.

Michael Myers

Michael was out while you were getting ready for a Halloween party. A part of your costume involved you getting drenched in fake blood. After pouring the fake blood all over yourself in your bathtub you let it dry and step out.

You're downstairs, gathering up your things for the party when you notice the feeling that you're being watched. You turn around and spot Michael watching you.

Michael knows what real blood looks like and considering you're pretty calm he knows this is for your costume. But something inside of him is yelling at him. Not in the usual 'kill someone' way, but in a 'get them and try not to hurt them' way.

You're going to be late to that Halloween party. Michael is going to stand there and make you spin around for him so he can watch you move while you're covered in blood. You know he's getting some kind of kick out of this, so who are you to stop his fun.

After this Michael will try to hint at you to get covered in blood more often. He'll even offer to get the blood this time, but it wouldn't be fake if he got it. He'll keep thinking about you covered in blood and won't be forgetting how it made him feel anytime soon.

Otis Driftwood

You walked in on him at a bad time. While you've grown to accept what your boyfriend does, you don't like partaking in his torture of other people. But when you walked into the wrong room at the wrong time you got sprayed all over with blood.

It coats your face, hair and chest. You thankfully didn't get any in your eyes or mouth. You do let out a scream of surprise but you're not too grossed out by the blood, living with the Firefly family for as long as you have will do that.

Otis takes a good long few moments to just stare at you. You're hot enough as it is, but seeing you all covered in blood like this? Otis is going to have to go take a long cold shower.

"Well isn't this my lucky day." He'll say before walking over to you, completely ignoring the victim now. He'll take all of you in and won't let you wash it off so quickly.

"I just wanna take a couple pictures of ya darlin'." He'll quickly get his camera out and have you pose for him while you're still covered in blood. This will come in handy when he's having art block or he just needs to have some 'personal time'.

The Lost boys

It's your first time feeding and it ended up getting really messy for you, considering you've never done it before. So you got just as much blood all over yourself as you did in your mouth.

Dwayne is the first to notice and he's smirking a little to himself as he watches your blood covered body move. He's committing this sight to memory and he'll probably find a way to get you covered in blood again.

David is the next to notice. He'll smile wider than Dwayne and make some comments about how messy eating can get at times. But he'll also talk about how hot you look covered in blood.

Marko doesn't even make a comment, he just straight up lunges and kisses you right then and there, fangs still out and everything. Seeing you all vamped out and covered in blood really got to him, making him loose all self composer that he has.

Paul also joins in on kissing you, but he'll opt for your neck since your mouth is taken. I can see him licking some blood off of you, but not too much because he loves the sight of you drenched in blood. But the boys will agree to try and get you that messy again the next time you feed.

Candyman

You didn't want to go with him. You summoned him and when he showed you how devoted he is to you, you didn't want to go. So he had no other option than to make you go by force.

You're entering your apartment after going to a Halloween party. Your costume was something you put together quickly and involved you pouring fake blood all over your front half. As you walk further into your apartment you get a strange feeling.

You try to ignore it as you walk to your bathroom to wash off the fake blood. Before you can do that you hear something moving in your medicine cabinet. You open it and after a few moments a hook jumps through it. You obviously scream and run out of your bathroom.

You're in your kitchen, picking up your phone when you see him again. He's looking at you with that same adoration in his eye from the first time you met him. He's looking you up and down. You're frozen again as he watches you.

"You're even more desirable covered in blood," He says in his sultry voice. You shed a couple tears as you try to move, but you're unable to. "I'll have to remember this the next time I see you my love. I'll never be able to forget this."

Doomhead

He knew you were going to a Halloween party, but what he didn't know was that you were going to be covered in blood when you came home. He knows real blood from fake blood and when he sees you he can't help but chuckle.

31 is coming up and he's always tried to keep you separate from it. Seeing you covered in blood is a bit of a double edged sword for him. On one hand he loves seeing you covered in blood, but he also can't stop thinking about 31, and what would happen if you got caught in it.

"Ok so I got a little too close to one of the decorations and I accidentally got covered in fake blood." You explain, taking off your shoes, "I should probably shower all of this off."

"Well I was hoping to get a better look at you like this." He says with a Cheshire grin. You roll your eyes but smile and walk over to him. He spins you around a bit, taking a good look at all of the blood on you.

He knows he'll have to tell you about 31 eventually, and that he'll always keep you away from it. But for right now he can enjoy watching his s/o look stunning while covered in blood.

Patrick Bateman

He got a little too careless and right as he was killing someone you walked in, getting covered in blood from the victim. You of course start to scream and he quickly covers your mouth.

He's so angry with you for interrupting this, but something about seeing your face and body covered with blood, excites him. "I can explain this. Calm down and listen to me." He says, trying to keep his voice calm. His anger starts to mix with arousal as he slowly slides his hand away from your mouth.

"Oh my god Patrick what happened? Who is this?" You ask, holding back tears. His attraction to you is starting to get a bit too much for him. He'll find a way to explain this murder, just like he'll find a way to explain why he wants to do it while you're covered in blood.

"He broke in and attacked me. I had to fight him off and I went a bit too hard I think. We can't tell anyone about this alright?" He says, trying his best to keep a calm, in control voice, "But right now we need to get to the bedroom.

Murder's don't get him as excited as seeing you covered in blood got him. He'll have to go out and buy some fake blood and recreate this with you again. He's glad he has such an understanding s/o.

Severen Van Sickle

It's been awhile since your last feed and when you finally got someone you could barely hold back from drinking as quickly as possible. Because you were so worried about eating as much as you could as quickly as possible you got yourself covered in blood.

After you pushed the body away Severen took notice of your blood soaked clothes. He couldn't stop himself from smiling and taking a good long look at you. He knows you'll be too full to do anything after feeding that much so he'll have to commit this sight to memory, just for some fun activities later.

You wipe your mouth and smear more blood over your face and Severen can barely contain himself at this point. He'll have to quickly ask you if you're up to help him, or if he should do it alone.

Either way he doesn't want you cleaning yourself up anytime soon. Even after his issue is taken care of he just wants to see you covered in blood. He loves how it looks in general but also aesthetically. If he has a camera on hand he's taking a picture of you.

He will try to recreate this later. Next time you're feeding he'll try to get blood all over you. I can see him filling up his mouth with blood and just spitting it on you because let's be honest, he's very dirty and probably has as many diseases as a stray cat.

Pyramid Head

You're walking around Silent Hill, trying to find some more food to stock up on when you come across one of Pyramid Head's recent kills. You don't notice and you slip on the puddle of blood.

You're used to the blood and gore of living with Pyramid Head in Silent Hill so slipping on blood and getting it all over your clothes is more of an inconvenience than scary. You groan and stand up, looking at blood slightly dripping off your clothes.

You turn around and find him standing near you. "I just slipped on some blood. It's not mine and I'm not hurt." You say. You can never really tell what he's feeling or his emotions but you can sense he's feeling a certain way about you being covered in blood.

You two just stand there while Pyramid Head is thinking about smearing more blood all over you. Seeing you covered in blood is doing something to him. So he walks over, get's blood on his hands and rubs it over your face and clothes.

He'll follow you around and just keep watching you while you're covered in blood. He'll be thinking about this for awhile, and he'll try to recreate it whenever there's free time or he just needs to see you covered in blood.

Bo Sinclair

You were busy going after a victim and it got a bit messy. You got yourself covered in blood. By the time you get the body back to the House of Wax the blood that's on your hair and face has dripped down to soak your clothes even more.

You hand it off to Vincent and when Bo sees you he pauses for a moment before he chuckles. "I like yer new look darlin'." He says teasingly. But he's using that teasing to mask how damn hot you are covered in blood.

You're able to pick up on this and you know a great way to get him back for making you chase down someone and kill them.

"Oh I know. I love this look too." You say teasingly back to him, moving your hands up and rubbing your hand over your face and neck, getting a good amount of blood on it. You walk over to Bo and smear the blood on his shirt before you step back.

"Too bad I'm about to wash it off." You say before you dodge Bo trying to grab you, "If you catch me before we get to the house I'll let you wash it off." You say before running out of the house, Bo follows behind quickly.

Lester Sinclair

You're helping Lester out by picking up a deer from the road. You're in the middle of lifting it into the truck when something happens and you get covered in deer blood.

Lester quickly rushes over to you and lifts the deer into the back of the truck. He's looking you over and making sure that you're ok. You'll have to assure him at least ten times that you're perfectly ok and that the deer just got blood all over you.

Now knowing that you're ok he does kind of realize that, you look good covered in blood. Lester loves when you get a bit dirty in general, but blood has him feeling a bit more excited than normal.

He'll zone out a bit for awhile until you bring him back and he acts like everything is good and he's totally not obsessing over the look of you covered in blood.

He'll keep this to himself until it starts to boil over and he admits to you that he hasn't stopped thinking about you being covered in blood. If you suggest the idea of getting covered in blood again he'll be all over that idea.

Vincent Sinclair

When you offered to model for Vincent's study you didn't expect to get covered in fake blood. But Vincent wanted you covered in blood and you didn't really mind so that's what the two of you do.

You stay still the entire time but you notice Vincent staring more than he is drawing. But once he notices you noticing him he gets back to drawing you.

He takes his damn well time to draw you and at one point he stands up and walks over to you. He starts to pose you in a different way and it's totally not an excuse to touch you and see you covered in blood up close.

He'll put you in so many different positions and will keep pouring blood on you. He's honestly memorized by you standing there covered in blood. At one point he'll bust out the camera and ask if he can film.

He sees you being covered in blood in a more romantic, artistic way that makes his heart beat faster. He'll have to get you covered in blood more often so he can draw, paint, photograph, etc you.

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flamingpudding · 4 months

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Cassiopea and Orion

Ellie had a plan. She promised she had one. This wasn't like when Clocky would sent her off on a mission through time with nothing more but a little note with a cryptic message on what to do.

Danny had given her clear instruction. Before one of her many travels to see the world, Danny, in his mid twenties and she in her late teens, had taken her aside once. Telling her about specific instruction she should follow, should she ever find herself in a moment of need, and Danny wasn't able to help her.

Well, now she was in that kind of situation. Amity Park was destroyed with no survivors. Vlads castle was no more. Both Dan and her got deaged, but Dan had to be put in a frozen state when he started to destabilize. And Danny, he had gotten captured by the GIW shoving her out of harms way and telling her to remember what he told her before.

Ellie was pretty sure Danny was telling her to follow the emergency instructions.

So here she was now. In Gotham. Keeping to the shadows and trying to find her way around.

No one ever bothered to tell her how hard it was to navigate through a city like Gotham. You would think it would be easy to find some guy running around at night in an armored spandex furry costume.

But no, here she was, in a random alley. In a city, Danny had specifically told her to avoid it unless the emergency instruction came into play. Maybe she should just steal a map.

She was contemplatingly staring at a gas station for that until she noticed a shadow jumping over the roof tops. It took her only a second to decide on her next action. Ellie was pressed on time after all.

"Hey you!" She shouted loudly flying up to follow that shadow. "Wait up!"

Thankfully, the shadow listened and stopped on the next rooftop toward her. She insanity noticed it tensing. Now, she noticed that the shadow was a kid. He looked small, and Ellie figured he was probably around 11 or 12.

"You are one of the Bees and Birds, right?" She questioned once she floated a bit closer. Also the kid tensed up.

"You mean Bats and Birds." The kid clicked his tongue at her, crossing their arms.

"Bees, Bats, who cares. My question is you know the big bad bee, right?" She waved the kid of, she had more pressing matter than getting their animals right. "I need to get a message to him."

The kid clicked their tongue once more, huffing and muttering something she couldn't hear. Probably talking to someone on a com. Either way, Ellie took his silence as a form of telling her to continue.

"Can you tell the big bad bee-" "Bat" "-the following?" She ignored the kid cutting in trying to get her message across and follow Danny's instructions to a T.

"Cassiopea is calling out to Orions Nursery before Rho dies to help her youngest."

There was long, drawn-out silence, and the kid was hissing something into coms. Ellie fidget with her finger nervously. Going through Danny's emergency instructions through her mind again until she hear a thud close to her and wirled around.

With wide blue glowing eyes, she looked up at the man dressed like a bat for a couple of seconds before taking on a defensive position. Eyes now narrowed at the man that was clearly studying her.

"I was under the impression that Phantom's youngest child was older. You appear to be no older than five."

"Yea well shit happened!" She shot back, still unsure if she could trust the man even if he mentioned Danny's hero alias. Her hands started to glow slightly as she prepared to attack in case things went back. But the man didn't appear to be phased by it. Not like the kid that was tensing up.

"You will be safe with us. But what happened to Phantom?"

Ellie eyes flicked over to the other kid that had now come closer to stand next to the bat guy before looking back to the big guy. She did not drop her stance yet. Still unsure of how much trust she can put here despite what Danny had told her, she had not yet heard the right response.

The man appeared to sense her distrust, as he kneeled to be on eye level with her. "Jupiter and Rho Cas will not be harmed. Orion gave Cassiopea his word."

Finally, Ellie relaxed, dropping her defensive stance but still watching the man with narrowed eyes. She hesitated a short moment before carefully saying her next words, hoping the man knew enough to k ow the grave meaning behind them.

"Phantom lost his haunt."

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bombuni · 17 days

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a wild ride

summary: It’s Halloween night. Your friends have decided to take you out and get you drunk, but it’s kind of hard to focus on forgetting when the man you want to forget is standing across the room and flirting with another girl. genre/pairing: kim hongjoong x reader, slight yunho x reader, smut, jealous f2l wc: 4.4k warnings: SMUT, 18+ MDNI!, mentions of weed and drinking, cursing, drunk sex but they’re tipsy at the worst, mean!dom!hongjoong, but he's soft for reader, fem!sub!reader, bratty reader but she gets tamed quick, one instance of edging, finger sucking, name calling (just the use of ‘slut’) they’re both so possessive of each other and jealous it’s crazy bom note: this is my love letter to hongjoong’s bouncy outfit bc we moved on too fast</3 anywhooo THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 1K!!! we hit it like a couple weeks ago but. it’s here now guys. I thank you for liking my works enough to follow and support and nothing will prove my gratitude but I just hope this comes close enough :) please enjoy and thanks once again everyone!!<3 also, here’s a playlist i made and listened to a lot while writing this!

You’re not really sure how your friends managed to talk you into coming out tonight. Much less, how you let Wooyoung drag you into matching costumes with him and San. Now you feel like an idiot standing in a fairly inaccurate rendition of a cat next to a pirate version of Seonghwa and Spider-man Yunho. Wooyoung seems to enjoy matching with you, although, letting everyone in the cramped house know that you three ‘have the best couples costume’ in the party. It’s embarrassing having to pull Wooyoung away from annoyed partygoers every 5 seconds, but he’s already halfway drunk and it’s sort of endearing how he boasts about you.

The night has barely started and whatever poor soul lives here should already be regretting hosting a Halloween party. There’s 4 couples making out in your line of sight, the smell of weed permeates your clothes, and the drunk-off-their-ass people in the middle of the room dancing to a poor remix of Monster Mash are sure to break something. There’s a rank scent that emanates from the wall on which you’re leaning against which makes you think someone’s already thrown up right where your shoulder is touching. Or it could just be Seonghwa’s breath, you’re not really sure.

The overwhelming heat from the bodies stuffed in the room is no comparison to the heat boiling inside of you. The humidity in the air and cacophony of noises do nothing to help your rising irritation. You try to cool it down with the iced drink in your hand, but the only way the warmth will go away is by looking away from Hongjoong-who’s in such a clear view from across the room you’d consider it God’s punishment for your selfish desire-and that’s never really going to happen. Not if he keeps looking at her while he’s dressed like that. That being in an intolerably well-fitting cowboy outfit. It’s obvious he knows he looks good, his forearm resting on the wall above the girl’s head as he leans down to hear her better. To get more intimate, to give her the same enticingly inviting smirk he gives you. Your cup crinlinking harshly in your fist snaps you out of the rage-induced trance. Seonghwa’s knowing smirk is haunting you from the corner of your eye, Yunho on your other side trying and failing to hide the same impish smile.

“You know you can’t actually blow people’s heads off if you stare hard enough, right?” Yunho chuckles, watching you out of the corner of his eye.

“Ha, ha,” the sarcasm flows right off of Yunho.

“Someone’s jealous,” Seonghwa’s voice is tinged with a taunt, the smell of alcohol absolutely dripping off of him as he leans into you. You’re fully aware of his drunken intentions to piss you off, but you try your best to be mature and ignore the teasing finger he’s pointing in your face.

“Jesus, are you 12?” Smacking the finger out of your face, he stumbles back in mild surprise.

Yunho’s at least somewhat sober, laughing at the ‘pirate’s’ drunk theatrics, “I have an idea for you-”

Seonghwa lifts his red solo cup in the air and his mouth moves faster than either you or Yunho can process, “You kiss Hongjoong!”

It’s simply impossible for Hongjoong to have heard him from across the room and over the various conversations and the loud music playing, but you still shush and shove Seonghwa in a panic as if he’ll come over and shoot you down right in front of everybody. He pulls the ridiculously fake eyepatch up over his eye to stare at you incredulously, “That was rude,”

Yunho pulls Seonghwa into him, a protective arm landing over him so you won’t slap the alcohol out of his system, “Why don’t you go and, I don’t know, tell Hongjoong you’re in love with him?” He says with a mocking voice, shrugging as if it’s a simple solution.

You scoff at the tall man, “First of all, I am not in love wi-“

All of a sudden, Wooyoung pops up between you and Yunho’s bodies with his drawn-on whiskers completely smudged and cat ears gone, “Hongjoong! You looovveee Hongjoong,” he’s swaying and already moved on to telling you how much he loves you instead when you try to respond. Yunho only smirks at you, I told you so clearly evident on his pale face.

You grumble embarrassedly and glance towards Hongjoong again to make sure he hasn’t heard any of your guys’ conversation , “I don’t.”

Wooyoung hums to the song playing, balance completely lost as he drops all of his body weight onto you and tunes out of the conversation. Seonghwa’s not fairing any better against Yunho, but he’s still trying to tell you what a match you and Hongjoong are.

“All we’re trying to say is that,” Yunho pauses to move Seonghwa’s fingers from his lips, “Hongjoong’s been in a bad mood all night watching you, and now he’s chatting up another girl? I-”

Wooyoung mumbles from where he’s resting on your shoulder, “Something’s fishy,”

Yunho nods, “What he said,”

You roll your eyes for the millionth time that night. A small, naive part of you really, really wants to believe your friends. But they’re drunk, and you’ll admit you’re slightly tipsy. You’ve accepted the fact that Hongjoong will never see you as more than a good friend. You look over to Hongjoong one more time in hopes that this time you won’t feel anything, but when you turn your head you find him already looking in your direction. You can’t really tell what his expression means, but his jaw is clenched and his scrutinizing eyes remain on Wooyoung’s arms around you. It’s no coincidence or trick of the light, you’re sure, but a poorly crafted Batman passes in front of you and Hongjoong’s back to being entranced by the girl next to him.

For a second, you’re lost in space and time. You should be embarrassed and ashamed that one glance from him is enough to send you careening back into fantasies of him, but the alcohol in your system and Yunho’s encouragement makes for a deadly combination. There’s a plan forming in your head. The sober half of you is rationalizing Hongjoong’s glance and telling you it was nothing more than that; a glance. But the tipsy half tells you that you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.

As Yunho sips his drink idly, you decide to take your chance, “Wanna dance, Yunho?”

He exhales sharply through his nostrils, smiling smugly because he knows exactly what your intentions are, “Sure, kitty,”

He takes your hand gently and pulls you towards the makeshift dance floor. He bows elegantly as if this is a ballroom, but he looks ridiculous doing it in a Spider-Man costume amidst people of varying states of sobriety. While you’re busy doubled over laughing at him, he sneaks his arms around you. It’s sudden when he pulls you flush against his body, brown eyes searching yours for any uncertainty before pulling your arms around his neck. For some reason, touching the nape of his neck makes you feel a certain closeness to him. Yunho leans his forehead on yours and the intimacy he’s allowing you makes you regret inviting him to dance. He really shouldn’t be pulling out all the stops for a girl who’s thinking of someone else.

Yunho takes your silence as embarrassment from his showiness, “I gotta make it believable, right?” You’ve never really thought about how tall he is until now, head tilted to only focus on you. His big hands wrap around your waist and burn where they touch.

“R-right,” you mumble, still dizzy from Yunho’s closeness.

Unbeknownst to you, Hongjoong’s fuming behind the sea of people. Your back is to him so you can’t see the pursed lips and furrowed eyebrows painted on his face. Yunho, on the other hand, gladly takes notice when he finally looks over to him. Hongjoong’s s gone to completely ignoring the girl he was talking to, only humming ‘yeah’s’ and ‘totally’s’ when he’s prompted. He’s burning holes into your back, as if glaring will suddenly remove you from Yunho. The fuse in him blows when you laugh at something Yunho said. The sound is barely heard over the music and myriad of voices, but it still reverberates through Hongjoong like it’s a call to him. Only meant for him.

“It worked,” Yunho whispers into your ear and sends chills down your spine, “Your cowboy’s stomping over.” You look at your Spiderman smiling down at you one last time when you feel a gloved hand on your shoulder. You can’t really see under the strobe lights, but there’s surely no smile on Hongjoong’s face. He’s glaring at Yunho like you’re his property that he’s touched without permission. Yunho’s hands slide slowly off of you compared to the quick removal of yours, just to piss Hongjoong off even more. You’re sure Yunho has another sort of personal vendetta against Hongjoong now.

“Hey, cowpoke,” there’s a lazy drawl in Yunho’s voice, bordering on venomous, “wanna join us?” Yunho’s hands move to wrap around you again, but Hongjoong quickly pulls you back into his side. He’s surprised by how easily you meld into his movements, but he doesn’t know how far you’d really let him go.

“You’re both drunk,” you follow like a lost puppy as he pulls you off the makeshift dance floor, “and need to be separated.”

Yunho hums behind you, “I’m perfectly sober,”

Hongjoong scoffs and as he opens his mouth to retort, you pull away from him, “I wanna keep dancing, Joong,”

Yunho shrugs as if the issue is completely out of his hands-again, what did Hongjoong do to him?-and smiles, “You heard the lady,” Hongjoong’s eyes fixate on the taller man, fists clenching at his side. If looks could kill, Yunho would have been 6 feet under ten minutes ago. His mind races with thoughts of how to get rid of Yunho, how to keep you for himself, and how his hand is still pulsing from when he felt yours, fearing he’s become addicted to your touch already.

His tone is final, “No.”

Before you can even say anything, Hongjoong drags you through the overflow of bodies towards the upstairs of the house. You can certainly hear Seonghwa and Wooyoung hollering obscenities at you-even over the party noise-before Hongjoong leads you deeper and deeper into the surprisingly large house. The hallways grow quieter and less crowded before he finds an empty room, letting you in first. It’s quaint and sparsely decorated, the soft environment settling your nerves. As you sit on the white bedsheets, Hongjoong watches you like you’re his next meal.

He finally speaks, arms crossed and a questioning look on his face, “You good?’

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Yes. Are you?”

He doesn’t answer you because he’s not really sure if he is. In truth, Hongjoong can’t stop looking at you. He’s sure your look tonight is imprinted in his brain all the way from the short, short skirt to the ridiculously low cut top you’re wearing. He’s frustrated with himself that he feels so possessive over you, as if you’re already his. He’s frustrated with you for simply letting Wooyoung and Yunho do as they please.

You watch as he sits on the bed next to you, fiddling with the cuffs of his gloves. He’s trying to act nonchalant, but you can tell he’s holding back from scolding you with the way he’s biting his cheek. He’s good at hiding it from others, but not from you.

His words are short and sharp, “Were you having fun with Yunho?”

The question catches you off guard. You mirror him, playing with your fishnet leggings and watching him out of the corner of your eye. You’re scared he’ll say yes, but you ask anyway, “Were you?”

Hongjoong turns to you, “I asked first,”

You roll your eyes at him, “Whatever. You seemed pretty happy talking to Ms. Boobs-in-your-face,”

You’re being petty and insulting a girl you don’t even know, but the irritation from earlier is returning with a fiery revenge. It keeps building the more you think about the way her hands would continuously run down the textured white lines on his shirt. Or how he’d smile at her like she was the only person in the room. You can feel his eyes on you again and you’re too embarrassed to meet them. You’re sure he’s sporting a cocky smile now that he’s heard the jealousy dripping in your voice.

“You didn’t seem to mind Yunho grinding on you,” he spits out before he can stop himself.

That finally makes you look at him, “He was not-”

“And Wooyoung’s hands all over you,”

You gawk at him, surprised to know that he had been watching you too. Now the pettiness you’re both showing is obvious. The air is tense before you speak, Hongjoong’s intent glare making you feel small, “You know how Wooyoung is, especially when he’s drunk,”

Hongjoong rolls his eyes at you, “Doesn’t explain Yunho crawling all over you,”

You cross your arms, inadvertently pushing your tits together and Hongjoong has to hold back a groan, “Why are you so concerned with what Yunho and I do?”

There’s a mutual understanding of the jealousy coursing through the room, though it’s unspoken. In your anger, however, you can’t really process the fact that he’s possessive over you. That he’s outright admitting he thinks of you as his, and vice versa. Instead of simply kissing and making up, you keep pissing each other off. Why you keep pressing his buttons you’re not sure, but you can’t deny how hot Hongjoong looks with the black cowboy hat tilted over his face, muscular arms tensing under the dim light.

He stands to his full height again-too frustrated to stay still-moving so that he’s right in front of you, “What, so you’re into Yunho all of a sudden?”

“Did you just bring me up here so you can interrogate me on my love life?” you mumble.

His jaw clenches again, “You’re so mouthy tonight, you know that? I’m getting sick of it,”

He’s invading your space now, lips so close you could just reach up and touch them with yours, “What are you going to do about it, Hongjoong?”

The words seem to set something off in him, his lips on you so fast it’s dizzying. His warm hands automatically find their way to your hips as he pushes you backwards onto the bed. He’s finally figured out how to silence you, muffling any sounds you make with his mouth. Anything that comes from you, he wants for himself. It’s sloppy and uncoordinated, both too focused on getting out all the built up feelings and frustration. Neither of you care about anything but getting more and more of each other. You feel his tongue finding its way into your mouth and you don’t put up much of a fight anymore.

He doesn’t pause his attack on your lips, panting while he speaks, “You gonna keep mouthing off, baby?”

Your mind short-circuits at the nickname. Although a large part of your annoyance has now dissipated, his lips like water to soothe the burn of your desire, you still want to see how far you can push him,

“Dunno,” you pant out.

His right hand slides up from your hip bone to your jawline as goosebumps follow the trail of his touch. A whine slips out of you when Hongjoong’s hand contracts, squishing your cheeks and forcing your lips into a pout so your focus is on his words. He can’t help the prideful smirk when he hears the noise you make, happy to know he has such an effect on you.

“I know,” a kiss to your jawline, “I’m going to show you who you belong to,”

You wiggle in his grasp, but he’s holding you tight, “And exactly who do I belong to?”

He smirks down at you, thoughts running through all the ways he’s going to break you, “Oh, you’re funny,” he leans threateningly over you, “You’re very funny,”

Just because you enjoy the game of stirring him on you continue, “Yunho said the same thing,”

He smiles dangerously at you. Not dangerous in the sense of attractiveness, but more in the sense that it’s a warning to the vicious, envious territory you’re entering. You feel your resolve melting against him, the air suffocating you with the thick, heavy feeling of pent-up desire. However, he doesn’t even let you get the right words out before he sticks his thumb into your mouth. It’s surprisingly appetizing, and you don’t wait for his sign to go before wrapping your lips around it. It’s your silent apology for what you said.

Now, his smile is gentler. But it’s Hongjoong, and Hongjoong doesn’t let things go so easy.

“Sluts needs to be quiet,” he whispers softly, but it’s who it’s coming from that makes it so you hear it loud and clear. You nod in obedience, still lapping as he adds more fingers into your mouth, exploring this part of your body.

“You know what else sluts need to do?” You shake your head and open your eyes up at him, “They need to fucking behave.”

He growls, “You’re gonna take what I give you until I’ve had enough. Then I’ll give you what you want,”

You want to whine and protest, but he’s looking at you like that’s not even an option. He stares down at you, taunting and challenging you. Hongjoong knows you’re not happy about his rules, but he doesn’t care. You need to learn to forget about anyone other than him. He won’t stop until you do. Your mouth pulls off of his fingers with a pop and you realize all too quickly what a mistake you’ve made.

His eyes squint at you, “Did I tell you to stop?”

You peer up at him with a guilty look, pout heavy on your lips hoping he’ll show just the slightest bit of mercy. But once again, it’s Hongjoong. He manhandles you towards him, back to his chest and for some reason it feels like you’re a complete puzzle.

He gropes your sides, pulling you close so you can feel how hard he is for you. The feeling of him rubbing against you makes you moan, the sheer satisfaction of finally getting what you want making you high on the pleasure. You know you’re supposed to be quiet, but the excitement of going against Hongjoong just ‘cause makes you want to do it more.

You spot his blue hair out of the corner of your eye as he leans down to your ear, “You’re gonna be quiet and take it like a good slut,” His right arm comes up and around your neck, pulling you in as if you aren’t already close enough, “Unless you want Yunho to hear?”

His clothed dick is making you weak. It’s the only friction he’s given you so far and it’s already breaking and tearing you apart. You shake your head vigorously, spouting nonsense babbles as if you’re appalled Hongjoong would even suggest that. However, Hongjoong seems all too enticed by the idea of everyone hearing how loud he can make you. You try to get more from him by rutting back into him, hoping he liked your answer, but he stops your hips.

“Sluts don’t get what they want, baby,” He pants into your ear and you realize he’s just as torn as you are, he’s just better at hiding it. His hand finds its way under your skirt, fumbling to pull your panties down. The sound of your wet pussy fills the room as Hongjoong plays with your folds, agonizingly slow to make you shake with anticipation.

He smiles down at you, “You’re so fucking wet,”

Before you can say anything snappy, he slides in you. He fills you just right, and you don’t want to sound crazy, but you feel like your pussy was sculpted just for him. His cock drives in you and hits right where you need it to. It makes you want to fall over, too weak to hold yourself up, but Hongjoong stops that from even happening.

You’re whining for more, “Keep being loud and Wooyoung will hear you,”

You gasp as he thrusts in you, but it just spurs him on. Being buried in you feels right, like it’s where he was made to be. He chalks up his intensified feelings to the alcohol flowing in his system.

Your moans mix together, “Seonghwa too? Want me to make everyone in this house know who’s fucking you?”

You can barely keep your head up, much less respond to him. The bed squeaks as he thrusts in you over and over again, limbs entangled. You start to think Hongjoong may have some jealousy issues, but you don’t mind.

His hand snakes around you again, this time reaching to play with your clit. His fingers make your knees buckle, the rhythm between his hips and his hand sending a new wave of pleasure through you. You don’t have the energy to process it, but all the while he’s telling you how he’s the only one who can touch you like this.

Your lower half is on fire, white hot sparks of pleasure flowing all the way from your abdomen to your toes. All of your senses are heightened because of Hongjoong’s touch and you feel the pleasure reaching its tipping point, right before Hongjoong rips his hand away and stops his hips.

Your complaint is right on the tip of your tongue, but Hongjoong drags you like a ragdoll over him before you can get the words out. Your senses haven’t even come back to you yet, but Hongjoong looks up at you with the cockiest smile and you feel that same bliss again.

His hands on your hips turns your nervous system on again, “You wanna cum, baby?”

Your voice comes out hoarse, “Yes. Yes, please, Joongie,”

He looks up at you contemplatively, as if deciding whether you deserve to finish or not. It makes a defiant whine build up in your throat the longer he takes.

He shushes you with a nudge, “Then work for it.”

Hongjoong’s tone is final and even though you’re on top of him, there’s no room for control or for arguing. He looks up at you expectantly, simply waiting for you to obey. You want to grab his collar, make him regret talking to you like he owns you, but unfortunately he in fact does.

The cowboy hat is befitting now, so you take it for yourself. His blue hair is disheveled and tangled underneath it, but he still looks celestial. A laugh rips out of him as the hat tips over your head when you look down. You pout at him, but the giggles slip into groans when you slide down him again.

It’s entirely too distracting for Hongjoong, and he has to bite his lip to hold back from cumming on the spot. You’re too tight and wet, too perfect for him. He almost regrets putting you in this position now.

But you look too good all sweaty on top of him, mouth parted open in satisfaction, with the sound of skin against skin accompanying you. Watching you bounce with his hat on makes him feel a little crazy.

His hand reaches for your clit again, finding that spot that he’s learned your body really likes. Your back arches against his fingers, shuddering at the feeling of him. His fingers follow a pattern against you, persistent in their goal to make you cum. It’s too good, too fast. You can’t help it as your body falls over him, pleasure overriding your ability to function.

Hongjoong laughs at you, “Can't do anything on your own, huh? Dumb slut needs me to help,” You nod against his neck, hiding your embarrassed blush.

He, uncharacteristically, kisses the crown of your head. You suppose it’s an apology for the way he hauls your thighs over him, then slams you back down on his cock again. Once again, the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. You feel the heat rising in you again, your body tightening up against Hongjoong.

This time there’s no signs of him stopping, his forearms keeping a tight hold of your thighs as he spears you on his cock over and over again, his desperate pants right by your ear.

He senses you’re near your tipping point, “See? All you needed was a good fucking for you to behave,”

You nod brainlessly, simply following whatever he says with only one thing on your mind.

“You can cum, baby. Want you to be loud so even fucking Yunho knows,”

You feel it coursing through you. It’s been a slow build up waves caused by Hongjoong, but now with his permission it turns into a full-on tsunami hitting you. The pleasure shoots through you, your entire body seizing up as it takes over you. Hongjoong fucks you through it with slow, shallow thrusts. Or at least he tries to, before the feeling of your tightening pussy finally pulls the orgasm out of him. He’s quick to pull out, his cum splattering all over his lower abdomen.

When you’re done, you’re left panting and sweaty on his still shirt-clad chest. You feel his racing heartbeat against your hands, heavy breaths beating against you. You look up and Hongjoong has the softest, tranquil smile for you.

“I only danced with Yunho to make you jealous,” you mumble amidst the silence.

His hand runs through your hair under his hat, “I only flirted with that girl to make you jealous,”

You’re scared by how soft and intimate it’s suddenly turned. You’re scared Hongjoong only thinks of you as a fuck buddy now, nothing more nothing less. So, You don’t say anything else.

He knows you by now, knows where every cog in your brain goes and how it works. Hongjoong pokes your cheek gently, “That means I like you a lot,”

“Oh,” you feel your heartbeat pick up speed, “me too.”

“Good,” he smiles at you again, that charming and sugary sweet smile he only gives you, “then we’ll go on a date.” You nod into him, blissful peace finally settling over you.

You’re halfway to sleep when Hongjoong speaks up again, “Can I have my hat back?”

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fic #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez oneshot #ateez fanfic #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong imagines

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tojipie · 6 months

Note

How does toji feel about halloween in general??

read this and immediately pictured our man leading both his kids up someone’s doorstep like “hey make sure you grab an almond joy for me :/” and “my back hurts >:(“ I LOVE HIMMMSNCHDJS

dilf!toji but there’s passing mentions of him working in an auto shop so maybe mechanic!toji ? who knows. no warnings for this one !

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toji always found halloween a little childish. holidays were a very rare occurrence growing up, so celebrating anything besides a paycheck or his latest divorce didn’t strike a chord in him.

he usually spent the 31st of every october begrudgingly taking his kids around the block for candy he could’ve bought for them himself. he’d stand to the side, still clad in his work clothes as the two of them eagerly held out their candy bags—pillowcases from his bed that he’d grabbed last minute.

sometimes an elderly woman would greet them at the door, eagerly handing his two mini-me’s a box of raisins or a handful of cough drops. he’d quickly usher them off the doorstep with a polite thank you, silencing their whines with a “shhh, i know, i know, just give em’ to me i’ll eat em’ at some point.”

sometimes a guy his age would open the door instead, sharing a knowing look with toji, a little nod of the head even simply to say “yeah, i’d rather be drinking a beer right now too.”

and sometimes—rarely— toji gets the chance to talk his game at a pretty lady. he knows he looks good, even with flecks of motor oil staining the front of his sweatshirt and faded jeans. that much is proven about 0.8 seconds into the interaction when the girl he’s eyeing rushes to put more candy in his kids’ bags, shooting him a bashful smile.

you’re different though, toji knows that as soon as you look up to address him.

“where’s your costume?” you tease, eyeing the older man as you hold a bowl of chocolate out for megumi and tsumuki.

he stands there for a couple of seconds, dumbfounded as you wait for an answer.

“… what?”

“where’s your costume, it’s halloween.”

a fit of giggles erupt from the children in front of you at your inquiry.

toji frowns, then laughs quietly, climbing up the steps to look down at you.

“where’s yours?” he states plainly, cocking his head to the side as his kids bound down your steps and settle in the grass.

“i’m not the one trick-or-treating here.” you state plainly, looking up at him with a confident smile.

toji leans against your doorway, still towering over you with that sleazy grin. “huh, guess you aren’t.” he admits, reaching for his phone with one hand and pulling up the “add new contact” page.

you laugh as he slips the device into your hand, typing your name and number in a bit too eagerly.

“and what was that for?” you ask, feeling the heat from his torso engulf your hand as you slip the phone into his sweatshirt pocket.

toji pushes off of the doorway, “so we can talk about our costumes a little more at my place.”

your knees practically buckle at the invitation, nonchalant facade melting off your body and into the pavement with ever step he takes down your driveway.

the two kids bound over to their father as he makes his way towards them, hugging each of his legs as pats their backs quietly.

“is she gonna be another lady you do kissing with?” megumi asks, balancing his little body atop his father’s impossibly solid work boots.

“hey, quiet.” toji laughs, scooping the younger boy onto his hip and taking tsumiki’s little hand in his.

#adah’s asks #fushiguro toji #toji #jjk toji #zenin toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x reader fluff #dilf toji #dilf!toji #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #toji fluff #toji headcanons #toji hcs #toji hc #toji x fem reader #toji x fem reader fluff

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sundrop-writes · 26 days

Text

Careful - Chapter Four

(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader

Chapter Four: Last Hope

It’s just a spark but it’s enough to keep me going.

Summary:

The entire axis of your world is shifting.

Spencer is not the man you left alone all those years ago, and you don't know how to react to him being such a perfect, caring father. You also don't know how to react to the potential that you could be killed by someone who has already gutted five other women.

Luckily, Spencer is there to protect you. Another thing you don't fully know how to react to - but somehow, you just go with it.

Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. (Slight) Fluff and Angst.

Word Count: 8,800

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Detailed warnings and author's notes below.

Warnings: Again, basic warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing, the reader character is the next target of a serial killer; mentions of the reader wearing a sexy Halloween costume (during a flashback); mentions of gender roles - the reader doesn’t raise Sebastian with strict gender roles (and Spencer appreciates this); mentions of the reader giving birth (not graphic descriptions); some emotional tension between Spencer and the reader; angst because Spencer is upset about missing out on so much of Sebastian’s life; passing mention of abortion; the reader is threatened (in a graphic way) and called whore in a derogatory manner by the UnSub; Spencer is also threatened in a very graphic way by the UnSub; specific threats of stabbing and rape (toward the reader); passing mention of poop (because come on, this is a little kid, and kids talk about their poop a lot); I believe that’s it for this chapter.

A/N: So, this chapter starts off with a flashback rather than ending with one, because flashbacks are important to how information is revealed to the audience, and I think it works here. Idk what else to say about this chapter - I think it's a nice transition into the climax. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

...

Halloween. It was always a time when Spencer thrived the most - and he thrived even more when spending it with you.

It was your second Halloween together as a couple, and Spencer loved that you enjoyed celebrating the holiday just as much as he did. You loved dressing up, you loved all of the spooky lore behind Halloween. And of course, you loved listening to all of the real life facts he had to tell you about Halloween’s history, and things like vampires, werewolves, zombies, and all of the Halloween traditions and how they evolved over time.

You didn’t think before that learning about the origins of Halloween could make it even more fun, but Spencer somehow made it into the most exciting educational documentary of your life.

This year, you had invited him to a house party that one of your work friends was hosting. It would be some light drinking, finger food, dancing to cheesy Halloween songs, and most likely sitting around and talking while roasting marshmallows around your friend’s backyard fire pit. It wouldn’t be anything big, but you expected it to be a really fun night.

You showed up to Spencer’s place wearing a straight off the rack, generic ‘sexy witch’ costume. It consisted of a very wide brimmed pointy hat, dark make-up, and a tight corset drawing attention to your curves, as well as a short tulle skirt, flared sleeves, and black fishnets and black boots to top off the look. He found you irresistible and almost wanted to stay at home. But he was looking forward to the party; he was excited to meet your friends and he knew that the occasion meant a lot to you.

He told you that he was planning on going as a young Ernest Hemmingway, and as much as you adored it, because it was a very Spencer thing to do - you knew that it was very unlikely that anybody else at the party would be able to identify his costume on sight, and that would probably disappoint him. He would be standing proudly, asking people to guess who he was, and they would come up blank because they weren’t in the same mindset as him.

So you advised him of this, and encouraged him to steer his costume in a different direction. (And Spencer - trusting any advice you gave, simply let you lead him.)

You took the late 1800s style clothing he had picked out for the occasion, and some of the makeup you had brought in your bag for potential touch-ups - and you convinced him to let you dress him up as a sexy vampire who had been turned in the late 1800s.

You did his makeup - with some dark eyeliner, that he winced at the entire time, some dark eyeshadow, and some red lipstick smudged around his mouth to appear as though it were blood he had just siphoned from his latest victim. And the entire time you worked, he came up with an elaborate name and backstory for his vampire character. You delighted in listening to him tell you all about Frederic Henry - named after a Hemmingway character. A man who was shot in the military and assumed dead, but who was saved in the trenches of World War I by a vampire’s bite, and then lived on.

You encouraged him to wear his shirt unbuttoned quite a bit, creating a deep V down to his chest that he wouldn’t have worn any other time. Thinking about his story, you even used the eyeliner to create the scar of a bullet wound on his chest, slightly hidden by his shirt - something to hint at Frederic’s tragic past.

(Both you and Spencer got way too into it, but you were having fun.)

You were running a bit late by the time you left Spencer’s apartment, but it was a casual house party, and you knew that nobody was going to call you out for being ‘late’.

You parked a few blocks away, not wanting to drive through the neighborhood with so many kids out and about on foot. It was still early in the evening, and many kids were still out, knocking on doors, getting their candy.

“They’re so cute, aren’t they?” You remarked as the two of you walked down the sidewalk, hand in hand with Spencer as you made your way toward the party among a sea of Trick or Treaters.

“Kids in costumes? Or just kids in general?” Spencer replied with a chuckle, trying to clarify what you had said.

(There was a hopeful edge in his voice, a daring longing in his eyes as he looked at the parents helping their children from house to house. Something deep inside of him that hoped the two of you could have your place here a few years from now.)

“Kids in general are cute.” You shrugged. “But kids in their little costumes are so much cuter.”

Spencer’s insides fluttered - seeing you light up with joy just talking about children, knowing that it might be in your future. Knowing that it might be a part of his future with you.

“If we had a baby, would you wanna dress him up for Halloween?” Spencer asked.

You wanted to fixate on the ‘if’ - to tell him that you thought it was something more certain in your future, with the way things were going. That you thought he would make an amazing father. That you wanted it to be a ‘when’.

Instead, you chose a different part of his statement to pick at.

“You sound awfully certain that our kid would be a boy.” You chuckled. “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who would be disappointed by having a girl.”

That would be a dealbreaker for you. As amazing as Spencer was - he had to be just as good of a father to a daughter as he would be to a son in order to stay in the picture.

“Goodness, no.” Spencer replied, shaking his head.

He held back. He didn’t tell you that he had spent far too much time - hours on the plane rides back home, nights when he couldn’t sleep - thinking about his future with you. He imagined three kids. An oldest boy, and two girls, about a year or two apart each. A golden retriever, a house - he had even picked out which district he wanted to live in based on schools in the area and lowest crime rates.

He knew it was stupid, but he had already been squirreling away money for a downpayment on that house. When you were ready, he wanted to be able to give you everything you could ever ask for. He had way too much time to fantasize, and he didn’t want to admit that to you now.

“Just - it slipped out.” He chuckled. “I would be thrilled if we had a little girl. But - I pictured us having a boy.”

In his mind’s eye, his daughter was so much like you. And if that came to pass, then he would be the luckiest man on earth.

“You did?” You grinned at him, a distinct light in your eye.

Spencer found his chest untightening as he breathed in relief.

“Well, if he’s half as cute as you,” You said, moving a hand over to pinch one of his cheeks, which made him smile and let out a huff, half forming into a laugh. “Then I definitely wanna dress him up in a Halloween costume. Especially while he’s still little and cute and can’t argue about what I wanna dress him up as. Before he starts talking and wants to be that fuzzy guy from Star Wars.”

“You mean Chewbacca?” Spencer asked, wondering which one you were talking about.

“Yeah!” You said. “The big ugly one. The little teddy bear guys are cute, but the big one is kind of creepy.”

“We had an all-day Star Wars marathon, and you didn’t tell me that you thought Chewbacca was creepy?” Spencer chuckled, his mind now distancing from the subject of the two of you having kids.

“Yeah, because you were there to protect me!” You replied, your voice still filled with lightness and laughter. “And I didn’t even really realize it until after. I had this weird nightmare-”

“You had nightmares about Chewbacca?”

“One nightmare! It was only one!”

The subject of children was forgotten, then.

Your laughter echoed off into the night, and you didn’t think much of the conversation.

Spencer remarked on it as a precious memory - as a sign that his savings account was an insurance policy for his future, not a fool’s errand. After the break-up, he thought about it over and over - he wondered where he had gone so wrong, how he had lost you. If you had felt so secure in your future together - how had he lost you?

…

Spencer wasn’t sure how it was possible, but he was growing more and more love for Sebastian with each passing moment.

After he got off the phone with Derek, he went back into the house to be mobbed by Sebastian. Having the boy run into his arms with so much excitement - it made him feel more heroic than anything he had done with the BAU for the past years of his life. So often, when he carted off a killer to jail or when he saw a victim returned to the arms of their family, he couldn’t feel the relief or the calm that JJ or Gideon spoke of. He just felt so empty.

But having Sebastian hug him tight and ramble in his ear with excitement about all his plans for their afternoon - it made his chest swell with a grand importance that he had only gotten a taste of when he was with you. When he was making you happy. It felt like a moment that his whole life was leading up to.

You asked Spencer if it was okay for you to go back to your office and get some work done while he occupied Sebastian, and he could think of nothing he wanted more - except maybe for you to join him, and to spend some true quality time with him and his son. But he hoped that would come later. And this in itself was progress - you trusting him to play with Sebastian, to spend time alone with him while you got your work done.

Sebastian showed Spencer every single one of his toy dinosaurs, and they played with those for quite a while. They also had a tea party with some large bears and dolls present - and Spencer was delighted by the fact that you didn’t buy him gender specific toys. Knowing that this opened up different areas of play and imagination, and allowed for his development to be nurtured by gentleness and caring that young boys didn’t often get in a society so rigid about gender roles.

Spencer really couldn’t imagine a better boy. You had raised such a beautiful, smart son. Someone who was polite, so caring, and gentle.

Spencer was practically swollen with love, overwhelmed at getting to spend time with his son.

His heart felt as though it might burst out of his chest and he knew that he looked fitful, actively holding back overwhelmed tears while Sebastian poured the imaginary tea for each member sitting around the small plastic table and they clinked their tiny plastic cups together in a toast.

Then, Sebastian wanted to show Spencer a favorite movie of his. He rushed downstairs to put it on the TV, and as he was picking it out among the DVDs, he became distracted by something at the top of the shelf beside the TV.

“My Halloween basket!” Sebastian said, pointing to an orange basket at the top of the shelf - one that did appear as though it was for Halloween, with a jack-o-lantern’s face painted on the front of it.

“Mommy says treats are for after dinner. But… can we have one now?” The boy looked hopefully toward Spencer, knowing that he would be able to reach the basket and bring it down toward him.

Spencer didn’t want to undermine your rules. You had done so well raising Sebastian this far, so you were clearly doing everything right.

He crouched down to the boy’s level.

“We should go ask your Mommy if it’s okay to have one.” He told Sebastian, who nodded, and then ran off toward your office with that thunderous urgency in his steps.

He heard a distant ‘Mommy!’ - and a bang that could have been Sebastian’s version of a knock or him downright smacking the office door until it opened. But then he heard your voice murmuring and what must have been a frustrated sigh.

Spencer felt slightly bad that he had sent Sebastian to interrupt your work, especially over something so small. But he didn’t want to lose progress with you and have you reaming him out for giving your son sugar without your permission.

You soon came into the room and went straight for the candy bucket, lifting it off the shelf and bringing it down to Sebastian’s level so that he could choose one.

“I know it seems cruel. But I didn’t want him eating it all on Halloween and puking, so he’s allowed to have one a day, usually as a treat after dinner.” You explained, clearly wanted to lay out your reasoning for Spencer.

“No, no, it’s not cruel.” Spencer replied quickly. “It’s a good idea. Regulating his intake of sugar while not completely restricting it as something sacred or off-limits. It’s a good call.”

Sebastian picked out a small packet of M&Ms, and then you went to lift the bucket away, and he spoke up.

“Can I pick one for my friend Spencer, too?” He asked.

“Yeah, go ahead.” You nodded, and then you added on: “Spencer’s favorite is Snickers.”

Of course, Spencer was floored that you remembered this.

Sebastian picked out a mini Snickers and then excitedly thrust it in Spencer’s direction.

“Aw, thanks buddy!” Spencer said, eagerly taking it with a grin, even reaching out to give him a high five while he smiled up at Spencer in return.

(He was too busy looking at Sebastian with those stars in his eyes to notice the way you were watching the pair - watching all of your dreams unfold before you with an odd mixture of bitterness and affection swelling up inside of you.)

Sebastian moved on to picking out the movie and you went to walk out of the room again, seemingly to get back to work, but Spencer stopped you. Something else was on his mind.

“Y/N.” He called your name gently, and you turned back to him, your arms crossed stiffly.

He was just glad that you didn’t seem so angry at him using your name this time.

“Do - do you have any pictures of Sebastian in his Halloween costume?” He asked meekly, afraid that you would stamp out this request with more anger and defensiveness.

“Why?” You gaped, seeming very confused that he would even ask this.

“I - I just wanted to see.” Spencer replied.

‘Because I missed out on so much of him.’ He hesitated to say. ‘I know it’s impossible, but I want those years back.’

The deep sadness lingering in Spencer’s eyes caused your stomach to clench.

He had really changed. This wasn’t the same man who had been standing in the apartment that night. This wasn’t the same person who had been so callous and stubborn - the same person that you felt you needed to protect your unborn child from.

Maybe this was the man you had fallen in love with, somehow rescued from the clutches of that person you didn’t know who had mocked you while wearing Spencer’s face.

“Gimme a minute.” You told him. And then you leaned in close before you whispered something else. “And you should let him see you eat the Snickers, otherwise he’s gonna be insulted.”

Spencer smiled at this.

Sebastian waved him over then, and he asked which DVD Spencer would rather watch. Spencer ate the Snickers and thanked Sebastian for sharing his treats once again while the boy went through a very detailed explanation of the plot of the films so Spencer would have an informed choice. And then Spencer picked, and Sebastian moved to put the movie into the DVD player.

This was when you came back with a thick envelope filled with pictures and handed them over to Spencer.

“I had these printed a while ago.” You explained. “I was planning on making a scrapbook for my mom, for mother’s day. It’s… basically every important moment in Sebastian’s life.”

“That’s my baby picture!” Sebastian said excitedly, looking over at the pictures in Spencer’s lap. “That’s when I was a baby, after I was born. I was one day old. Mommy said that everyone used to be one day old at some point, but that just sounds weird!”

Spencer’s throat clenched up with tears, and this clashed with the laughter he experienced from Sebastian’s comments.

But as he looked through the pictures, he had a much harder time holding back his tears.

Seeing all of the pictures, all of those moments - it slowly broke him.

The first picture was one of Sebastian wrapped in a very clinical swaddling blanket when he was still so new and wrinkly, only hours after his birth. Spencer could imagine how small Sebastian would have been in his arms. The tiny little newborn sounds he would have made. Spencer wished that he could have held your hand through the birth, that he could have been there with both of you in the hospital during those first few days of his life.

Then, a picture of you holding Sebastian in his nursery when you had brought him home from the hospital - a photo that was most likely taken by your mom. You had such a big, bright smile on your face. You looked so perfect with him in your arms. You were such a good mother.

There were pictures of him when he was more alert - his big, curious eyes looking at the world for the first time; what appeared to be his first picnic out at the park when he was laying on his back on a soft blanket, taking in the world for the first time. Spencer could imagine how sweet his baby laughter would be - what it would have been like blowing raspberries on his soft belly and kissing you under the warm sun.

He continued flipping through the photos - another one of what must have been his first Halloween. He was dressed up as a chubby round Jack-o-Lantern with his little fist in his mouth, drooling around it while your mother held him for the picture.

And then - pictures of him walking experimentally while you held him by both of his hands; him sitting in front of a Christmas tree, opening an exciting Christmas toy that made him beam with a big smile.

Pictures of important memories all throughout his life, all the way up until recently. This past Halloween, he had dressed up as Luke Skywalker.

He liked Star Wars.

“Um, can I use your bathroom?” Spencer choked out.

He knew that he was crying very blatantly now.

His chest was caving in as all of it truly hit him - how much of his son’s life he had missed. He didn’t wait for you to direct him because he knew that he had passed the bathroom coming down the hall. He abandoned the photos in the middle of the coffee table, haste to escape.

Sebastian looked at him with sad eyes as he stormed out of the room.

“Why is my friend Spencer sad?” He asked in a small voice, looking up at you. “He doesn’t like my pictures?”

“No, honey, your pictures are beautiful.” You assured him, kneeling down by the table and gathering up the pictures. “It’s complicated…” You let out a huff, not knowing how to explain it to him. Not even knowing where to start. “It’s grown-up stuff, okay? Just - just watch your movie.”

You stacked the photos back into the envelope, and you hoped that Sebastian wouldn’t follow you as you raced down the hall toward Spencer. You weren’t surprised to find the bathroom door closed.

“Spence,” You called out his name as you knocked gently on the bathroom door.

That gutted him even more. Spence.

Another harsh reminder of the life he had lost.

“I’m sorry.” He called back, his voice audibly drenched in tears.

Your throat tightened up.

This began to shift your entire axis. The man you had left standing alone that night - you thought he was a man who would have never cared about your son. Someone who would have asked you to get an abortion or distanced himself from the pregnancy as much as possible.

But this man - this felt like the Spencer you knew, the one you fell in love with.

He cared so much.

This was someone who could fit into your life, someone who could help raise your son.

And tugging right at your heart, something you wanted to deny - this was a man you wanted to be your husband, as well as the father of your child.

“Spencer, please-”

Spencer opened the door then, and upon instinct, you drew back, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. Unconsciously, you were protecting yourself.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized again. “Did I scare him? I didn’t mean to.” He asked, looking behind your shoulder as if waiting for Sebastian to appear.

There it was again - prioritizing your son above all else. Worry for him.

Something you wouldn’t have expected. Something that forced you to shift your whole perspective.

“He’s fine.” You told him. “He - he probably just wants you to watch the movie with him.” You said, entirely honest, motioning toward the living room - where the sound of Sebastian’s cartoon movie could be heard playing from the television.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Spencer noted, reaching for some toilet paper to wipe his eyes with.

You squeezed your hands tighter around your arms, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. You wanted to wipe those tears away yourself. Spencer’s keen eye went right to this movement, and you felt so caught.

“I should go start dinner.” You said, eager for an excuse to escape the situation.

You whisked down the hall before Spencer could say anything else, and before his mind could linger too much on it - on you - his phone rang again.

It was a number he didn’t recognize, but he had to guess that it was one of the phones from the local police station - someone from the team calling with an update about the case.

“Reid here.” He answered, deeply hoping that he didn’t sound too tearful over the phone.

“Do you like pretending, Doctor Reid?”

That certainly wasn’t a voice he recognized.

“Excuse me?” Spencer squeaked back, having no clue what this meant.

“Do you like playing house, Doctor Reid?”

The person on the other end posed a slightly different question. The voice was sharp and certain, completely devoid of genuine emotion. It caused a chill down Spencer’s spine, and he knew, somehow-

The UnSub had gotten a hold of his phone number, and felt the need to taunt him by getting in contact with him.

“Unlike you, I’m not playing.” Spencer growled in return, already having the profile in his pocket. “I don’t need to play house to fulfill some God complex. I fully intend to spend the rest of my life being there for my son, raising him. And as long as I am here, in this house, no harm will come to my son or the woman who raised him.”

“Hmm…” The man seemed entirely bored with Spencer’s words. “The woman who raised him. Such a funny way to talk about that whore you supposedly once loved. But she did such a good job raising the boy, didn’t she? Seems like she didn’t even need you in the picture, did she? Such a sweet little thing… anybody could just waltz right into that house, slit her throat and take him. He’s smart enough to do well on his own now.”

Spencer knew that it was a tactic intended to get to him, and he shouldn’t have let it emotionally affect him as much as it did - but fuck, it got to him.

“Don’t talk about her that way.” He growled into the phone. “Don’t talk about them, that way, I swear to god, I’ll-”

“You’ll do what, Doctor Reid?” The man cut him off, clearly mocking him. Clearly in disbelief that Spencer could ever truly be violent in response to his family being threatened.

Spencer choked on a breath, trying to compose himself.

“Now, now. Simmer now.” The man cooed, still mocking, entirely condescending. “And don’t you worry, Doctor. Every whore gets her time to be an angel. I’m sure that she’s going to look so beautiful when she’s moaning and writhing in pain while my knife plunges into her guts. Don’t worry, Daddy - I’ll treat her as gently as I can.”

Spencer sucked in a breath, preparing to yell at the man, but then - the line went dead with a sharp ‘click’. Spencer pulled back his phone and looked at the display - he memorized the number so that he could give it to Garcia later, and then, he called JJ.

“Reid, hey.”

She sounded worried.

Any rage pumping through him that the unknown man had triggered in him melted away, and he immediately wondered why JJ had taken on that sad, sullen tone.

Before he could ask, she spoke up again.

“We… were just wondering if we should call you.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“The UnSub knows you’re in the house.” She announced, ripping the band-aid off all at once.

Spencer wondered again how this was possible. But he figured that it was better to exchange information and let the questions naturally arise than to ask the questions himself.

“Yeah, he just called me.” He told JJ. “Clearly with the intention to antagonize me.”

“Wait, hold on.” JJ sighed. In the police station, she walked into the conference room where the team was working and put her phone on speaker for the room before she spoke to Spencer again. “Tell them what you just told me.”

“Someone who I can only assume was the UnSub just called me.” Spencer explained. “It was very clear that he was trying to antagonize me. He - he seemed jealous that I’m here - that I’m trying to take his place as father in the household before he could get here.”

“What makes you say that?” Hotch asked.

“He claimed that I was ‘playing pretend’. He called me Daddy. He mocked my love for Y/N, and taunted me with the idea of him… potentially killing her.” Spencer found those last words particularly difficult to speak, but he knew that the team needed all the information at hand.

“Let me guess, he called you from a blocked number?” Prentiss wondered aloud.

“No, actually.” Spencer replied. “Do you have a pen? I can give you the number and you can have Garcia run it.”

“Fire away.” Prentiss replied.

“503-202-1052.” Spencer told her.

“I’ll call Garcia now.” She said - on the other end, getting up from the table to call Garcia on her cell.

“JJ said you guys have something too?” Spencer asked, still wondering what JJ had meant.

“The scumbag sent us a letter.” Morgan answered. “The envelope was full of pictures. A bunch of pictures of your girl and the kid from weeks back - them at the park, at restaurants, at the grocery store. He’s way farther ahead in his timeline than we thought he was.”

“Yeah, and there’s… something else.” Rossi sighed. “He also included pictures of you and JJ standing on the porch when you arrived at the house. And one of you coming back to the house later, by yourself. In one of them… he crossed your eyes out with a red marker. It’s clear that he sees you as competition. A clear threat to his fantasy.”

“But - how does he know that I’m Sebastian’s real father?” Spencer wondered aloud.

“Perhaps he only sees you as competition because you’re another male encroaching on his territory. Because you’ve spent prolonged time at the house, seemingly to protect her and the child.” Hotch theorized.

“No…” Spencer said, putting the pieces together in his. “On the call, he said: ‘Such a funny way to talk about that whore you supposedly once loved.’” Spencer repeated it perfectly from memory, feeling a pang in his chest at calling you a ‘whore’, even if it wasn’t his own wording. “It was like he knew that me and Y/N dated before and broke up. Like he knows that Sebastian is a result of our previous relationship.”

“That is… strange.” Rossi remarked. “Do you think that Y/N might have mentioned your relationship to a friend, or a neighbor? Maybe… she might have confided in somebody?”

“It’s possible.” Spencer sighed. “But since she’s moved here, she’s surrounded herself with women. A female babysitter, fellow moms as her friend group.” It was something he had noticed in the more recent photos of Sebastian. “Our UnSub is a man - I don’t see her divulging those types of things to him, even if she didn’t know he was a potential threat.”

“Well either way, he knows. And he’s pissed off.” Morgan sighed. “I mean, the wording of this letter… it makes sense why he seems so hostile toward Reid. It’s not just anger toward a random man who’s encroaching on his territory - it’s a personal rage towards someone he feels could actually ruin his chances with Y/N if he’s built up this fantasy of having her in his mind over these weeks.”

Morgan picked up the letter and read some lines from it. “‘I will stab him in the spine, paralyzing him and forcing him to watch as I rape that whore - I will take her as my own while he pleads for mercy. I will show him what happens when weak men abandon their obligations. If Daddy wants to play, I’ll play too.’”

“Is that really what he thinks?” Spencer huffed, unable to hold back his emotions. “That I abandoned my obligations? Does he really think that-?”

“Reid.” Hotch said firmly, cutting off Spencer’s ranting. “Stay calm. What we really need to ask ourselves now is: how does he know so much about you? How does he know so much about your past that even we didn’t know?”

He added this on - seemingly taking offense to the fact that most of the team didn’t know that Spencer had a serious girlfriend in the past. A relationship that had resulted in a child.

Just then, Emily came back into the room.

“Garcia said the phone number goes to a public library on the other side of town.” She announced.

“Morgan, you and Prentiss go to the library - see if anyone there saw the UnSub or if they have any potential security footage of him.” Hotch ordered.

“Reid, see if you can convince Y/N to come into protective custody.” Hotch added on, turning his attention to the man on the phone. “With the UnSub being further along in his timeline than we thought, and seemingly being provoked by your presence, we really need to protect her and her child. Stress that fact to her. We need to keep a close eye on her until we can find a viable suspect.”

“Yes, of course.” Spencer replied, before ending the call.

Spencer splashed some cold water on his face, truly trying to pull himself together before he exited the bathroom.

It truly hit him, then.

This day wasn’t about some soft, sappy reunion with you and his son. This day was about the fact that you had been targeted by a dangerous, deranged killer. And he needed to do everything in his power to protect you from that horrible man.

A fresh, vicious wave of determination went through him - if he had to tear out the man’s throat with his teeth, then he would. He wasn’t going to let even the tiniest amount of harm come to you or his boy. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.

He put on a smile, not wanting to potentially scare Sebastian with a frown or his trembling fear over what might happen. He tried his hardest to push all of it out of his mind for now as he walked down the hallway and back into the living room - where a musical cartoonish number was in full swing on the TV.

“You were in the bathroom for a long time!” Sebastian commented brightly. “Did you have to go poop?”

Spencer let out a laugh at this. This almost instantly lifted his mood - the fact that such a young kid didn’t have the sense of embarrassment or social constructs in order to know that it wasn’t really routine to ask someone what they had been doing in the bathroom. He easily found humor in Sebastian’s bluntness.

“Seb, what did we say about asking people about their poop?” You called out from the kitchen, clearly having heard the conversation.

(So this was a habit of his?)

“Sorry!” Sebastian called back. Sebastian then turned back to Spencer. “Your poop is only your business. Unless you have to tell the doctor about your poops.” He assured Spencer, clearly repeating something that his mother had told him.

Spencer nodded. “It’s all good, bud.” He said, smiling at Sebastian. “I’m gonna go talk to your mom, okay?”

“Are you gonna watch the movie with me?” Sebastian asked.

“I promise, I’ll watch whatever you want to later.” Spencer replied.

He made it a promise because he wanted to hold himself to it - he wanted to spend lots of days watching films with his son. And playing games, and teaching him things. He promised himself that there would be lots of time to do these things with Sebastian in the future because nobody would interrupt that for him.

But for now, he had to convince you to agree to protective custody so that the three of you could have the safety and security of a future together.

Sebastian seemed content with this answer and turned back to the TV, and Spencer ventured into the kitchen, where you were preparing dinner.

“Hey, Spence.” You greeted him gently. “I’m assuming that you’re staying for dinner? It’s nothing fancy, just some pasta with cream sauce, and chicken and broccoli.” You explained, gesturing around to the many items you had surrounding you - a pot of boiling water, and cutting boards with different vegetables, and one sequestered off in the corner with cut-up chicken pieces waiting to be put in a frying pan that was still heating up.

“Sounds good.” He easily agreed. “After dinner, we need to pack a bag for Sebastian, and you need to get some stuff together so that we can get you guys into protective custody.” He said, posing it more like a gentle suggestion than a question that you could say no to.

He truly hoped that he wouldn’t have to go into the graphic details as to why you needed the protection - why it was more urgent now. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to resort to telling you about the man who had threatened to go poking around in your insides with a knife while making him watch.

Not surprisingly, you completely ignored what Spencer said.

“Unless you prefer Turtle Mac n Cheese?” You said, instantly deflecting away from the topic, holding up a box of mac n cheese that had some cartoonish characters on it. They were green and looked vaguely like anthropomorphic turtles. Spencer guessed that this was what you were making for Sebastian’s dinner - most likely along with having him eat some broccoli, because you seemed determined for him to at least somewhat eat healthy. “I think that cartoon shapes really give it that extra gourmet flare.”

“Stop that.” Spencer demanded gently, taking the box out of your hands and placing it somewhere else on the counter. You frowned at him. “Stop acting like what’s happening isn’t a big deal. If you’re doing this because you’re frightened-”

“I’m not frightened.” You said, cutting him off. “I just don’t think that the FBI needs to be wasting resources on me when there’s people out there who are actually in danger. Or people who have dead loved ones who need answers.”

“Exactly.” Spencer pressed. He lowered his voice before he spoke his next words, though he knew it was unlikely that Sebastian would hear him over the movie playing on the TV.

“The man who sent you those flowers has already killed five other women.” He stressed, pointing behind you, toward the vase with the white carnations in it. He was surprised that you hadn’t thrown the flowers away after what he and JJ had told you. “Five women’s families are waiting for answers about who killed them. And you could be helping us-”

“I can’t help you, though.” You shrugged. “There are no men in my life. There’s nobody Spencer. There hasn’t been since I broke up with you.” You snapped, giving him a harsh glare - as though you resented him for ruining you, tainting your heart and leaving you broken.

The realization shattered him a bit more. All this time, he had been worried that you had moved on, that you were living a better life without him. But you had been just as lonely as he was - aside from the company of a small child that reminded you more and more of Spencer every single day.

Spencer took a breath, trying to focus.

“Just come into protection.” He pressed. “The FBI will take you to a safehouse, and-”

“A safehouse?” You scoffed. “How is that any safer than the house we’re currently standing in? Does it have bulletproof windows and a steel reinforced door? Or - or is it just a regular house with regular windows, and regular walls, and a regular door? Just like my house?” You chuckled sarcastically, moving to grab the cutting board with the chicken, shoving it into the now heated pan with the back of your knife.

Spencer’s nerves were grated on by your sarcasm.

“Dammit, Y/N!” He shouted, much louder than he intended to. “Can’t you see that I’m just trying to protect you?”

“Yeah, and where the hell was that attitude four years ago when I begged you to-” You swiftly cut yourself off, the words dying off in your throat, not wanting to rip open old wounds.

You tossed the items back onto the counter with a crash, only causing more tension in the air. You took in a sharp breath - suddenly, standing in front of the stove, you felt too hot.

You reached for the edge of your hoodie without thinking, and peeled it up over your head. You were wearing a thin camisole underneath, but surprisingly, your black bra being so visible through the thin white fabric wasn’t the thing that caught Spencer’s eyes as more and more of you was revealed.

There it was.

The four-pointed star necklace that he had given to you on your birthday was sitting in the middle of your chest, right where it belonged, glaring at Spencer, taunting him.

It became apparent to him in seconds that you had been wearing it all day. You had answered the door earlier that day wearing that pale blue hoodie, having no clue that Spencer would be on the other side. You had no reason to impress him, quite angered that he was even there in the first place, actually. So you had been wearing it under your hoodie since before then - since the beginning of the day, likely.

You had been holding it close to your chest as something precious - hiding it under your clothes as a secret, just for yourself.

If there was a single shred of doubt in Spencer’s mind that he had loved you more, that he had missed you more since the break-up, it was gone now. You hadn’t dated other men, and you had silently carried that symbol of him, as if unconsciously beaconing him back to you.

When you finally got the fabric off your head, you instantly noticed him gaped-jawed and staring at your chest. You wouldn’t have called him a pervert, because before you even glanced down to confirm that you had the necklace on - you knew. A terrible guilt struck through your gut, like you had been caught stealing something, and you froze up on the spot.

You and Spencer locked eyes for a moment, and his hands quivered with the terrible need to reach out and touch you - though in that moment, standing just across the kitchen from you, he felt a thousand miles away. He had a terrible need to hold you, yet he had never felt more distant from you. He had never felt more prohibited from touching you since the moment you had first grabbed his hand on that very first date.

How long had you wanted him back and said nothing? How many days had you woken up thinking about him, knowingly raised his son alone, and made no effort to contact him?

“I - I have to go change my clothes.” You said, your voice so utterly small. “Can you watch the stove?”

You didn’t wait for a reply before you turned and whisked off again, clearly too eager to escape the tension.

Spencer busied himself with watching over the food - stirring here and there, and starting the cartoon turtle mac and cheese based on its boxed instructions - trying desperately not to think about what all this meant.

When you came back, you were wearing a simple, light tee shirt. And it was easy to see that you had taken off the necklace and put it away somewhere.

…

Having Spencer there for dinner felt like role-playing as a family.

With Sebastian in his usual seat behind the dinosaur placemat, sitting between the two of you - it felt like something out of a strange, distant dream. He kept looking to Spencer for encouragement when he ate his broccoli and didn’t spill his juice, and Spencer stared at you across the table, having that constant fond look in his eye whenever he turned back to Sebastian or talked to him in that sweet, soothing voice.

Spencer also watched you, and tried to make it seem subtle. You noticed his eyes drifting over to your plate, ensuring that you were eating, as he had done many times before. You wanted to make another snarky comment about him pretending to care, but you kept your mouth shut.

It felt so shallow, and plastic, with the supposed threat hanging over your head; knowing that the only reason Spencer was there in the first place was because he believed that you were in danger.

Yet, it felt like something you had been doing all your life. It felt like just another night. Like Spencer had come home from work to this a thousand times; like you would get up and do the dishes and kiss him and then bring him to your bed for the night. It felt like that’s how things should be.

You really weren’t sure if you loved it or hated it.

You were nearly finished with your food and Spencer’s dinner was half-done, food getting cold on his plate while he encouraged Sebastian to finish up - when there was a knock on the door.

You expected it to be JJ again, pressing you about the protective custody thing. You let out a harsh sigh when Sebastian quickly wormed out of his chair and raced toward the door - eager to answer it himself.

“Seb!” You called after him. “What have I told you about answering the door when Mommy isn’t there?”

You raced after him and uncomfortably grabbed him up with a gut full of food, Spencer trailing behind you awkwardly.

“You’re here now!” Sebastian argued, laughter in his voice.

“Here, go with your-”

You abruptly cut yourself off, stopping yourself from saying ‘go with your dad’.

“Go back to the table with Spencer.” You told him, turning him around and directing him toward the man. You couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes, knowing that he could predict exactly what that verbal near-slip was. “I will answer the door.”

“Come on, bud.” Spencer encouraged him. “If you finish up all your dinner, we can have a treat later,”

He hated to promise something you hadn’t permissed, but he knew that you needed the distraction right now.

You unlocked the door and opened it, fully expecting JJ to be standing there patiently (likely having heard that entire exchange from behind the door). You were surprised when nobody was there, and instead, your eyes drifted downwards to a large brown envelope sitting on the step.

It didn’t seem to have any kind of shipping label on it - just your first name written on the front in bright red ink. It made you startlingly curious, at the same time, caused a tight knot to form in your gut. You picked it up, bringing it inside before you closed the door and locked it again.

You brought it back to the kitchen and placed it on the kitchen island, and of course, this caught Spencer’s attention where he could see you from his place at the table.

“Y/N, what is that?” He asked, unable to mask the frantic worry popping up in his voice.

“I don’t know.” You said, feeling slightly haunted by it yourself.

You moved to open the envelope, and before Spencer could stop you, something echoing in the back of his mind - chirps about potential poison or even a bomb - you had ripped it open and spilled the contents onto the counter.

Your insides quaked when you saw what it was.

Spencer rushed over to look at the items with you, and naturally, this drew Sebastian’s attention as well.

“What is it, Mommy?” He asked, marching over and trying to get a peek over the edge of the counter, but not yet tall enough to see - which you were thankful for.

“Did you finish all your dinner?” You asked, leaning over to look at him.

“I did!” He said proudly, nodding.

“Okay, then, why don’t you go into the pantry and pick a cookie?” You said, hoping that your sudden flood of worry and fear didn’t quake through your voice as you forced a smile for him.

“Okay!” He cheered brightly.

He ran off to the large cupboard beside the kitchen table, eager to pick between the varieties of cookies that you had there.

(Again, he was smart - but easily distracted. That you were thankful for.)

“Y/N-” Spencer gasped when he saw the items that had come out of the envelope.

“I don’t wanna hear it.” You said, your voice now quivering with tears you found yourself unable to hold back. “I don’t wanna hear about how you were right.”

You stared down at the items in horror.

It was several photos of you; very voyeuristic shots of you going about your daily life. Several of them including Sebastian when you had been doing perfectly innocent things - going shopping, playing at the park. Even pictures of the two of you playing in your own backyard. A view of you getting dressed through your bedroom window.

One of the photos - a photo of nothing more than the front door to your home - had a message scribbled across it in bright red marker.

‘Daddy misses you. Be home soon. xoxo’

“That’s not what I was going to say.” Spencer sighed.

He saw how horribly you were shaking - he saw the tears brimming your eyes. This time, he truly couldn’t help himself. He stepped around the counter, and upon instinct, he swept you into a tight hug.

Unconsciously, he caged you away from any potential danger with his arms around your shoulders - holding you like he would have when you had a nightmare or when you shied away from men you considered ‘creepy’ on the subway. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, your fingers digging into his back for comfort, clinging to him like you would have clung to a life raft at sea.

You broke into sobs, the sound muffled by his chest, and Spencer’s own heart stung - knowing that the true depth of the danger had finally hit you.

“It’s okay.” He told you. “It’s gonna be okay.”

He rubbed a flat palm across your back, hoping to comfort you in some way, even though he knew that the terror of the whole situation was mounting - and it was a horrible thing to face.

“Spencer-” You sobbed out, unsure what you even wanted to say.

“I’m going to make sure it’s okay.” He said firmly. “You know I won’t let anyone hurt you, right?”

It wasn’t even a question in your mind. The two of you had your problems back in the day, but you knew that Spencer would never let any harm come to you.

You clung tighter to him, savoring the moments while Sebastian was still distracted - likely sneaking more than the singular cookie you had allotted him to have, not that you cared in the slightest right now.

If there was anything else on your mind aside from the potentially crippling fear as the realization truly hit you, any room past the fact that you had been stalked and secretly surveilled by a murderer for weeks now; then you might have considered the fact that when you had woken up this morning, you never would have never thought that Spencer Reid, of all people, would be such a comforting touch to you.

Oh, how things change.

…

Spencer was hesitant to let you go from the hug.

But he had to call the team, because this was an important break in the case. And he had to see what kinds of arrangements they could make for you - if they could find a safehouse for you on such short notice, or if he would be taking you to the field office or the police station.

You cleaned the cookie crumbs off Sebastian and took him to the living room, trying to maintain some sense of calm while you turned on a random cartoon show on cable. He got out a puzzle and you helped him with it while Spencer stepped into the other room and dialed Morgan’s number.

“Hey, Reid.” Morgan greeted him. “How’s married life treating you?”

“Not funny.” Spencer replied, his voice short and frustrated. “The UnSub just delivered another package here. More photos. And a message. ‘Be home soon’. It’s pretty clear that he’s planning on making his move soon.”

“Woah.” Morgan replied. “Well, if Y/N didn’t want protective custody before, then I’m assuming that scared her into complying.”

“Yeah.” Reid agreed. “Where should I bring her?”

“Hold on.”

There were some voices clustered on the other end, and then, the next person to speak on the phone was Hotch.

“Reid… you’re not going to like what I have to say.”

“What is it?” Spencer prodded.

“Morgan and Prentiss got nothing at the library. So far, the only thing we’ve got on this UnSub is the fact that Y/N is likely his next victim, and he doesn’t seem eager to break pattern just because you’re in the house.”

Spencer didn’t like where this was going.

“You’re not insisting-?” He asked, and Hotch filled in the blank for him.

“Our only chance to catch him could be… catching him in the act. We could tie him to the other crimes if we catch him breaking into the house-”

“The house that my son is currently in.” Spencer huffed.

“We could bring the boy into protective custody. And leave Y/N there. We know that he never hurts the children, that’s not part of his MO.” Hotch offered meekly.

“But he gets some kind of catharsis from playing house.” Spencer replied. “If we move Sebastian, that might cause him to break pattern, and he could just move onto another victim.”

Then, something else occurred to Spencer.

“Also, we don’t know how he’s surveilling us.” He added on. “If he sees where we’re moving Sebastian, he might go after him.”

He considered that another woman - someone completely unsuspecting, someone unprepared, someone innocent with no way to defend herself - would be killed if Spencer made the wrong choice. It could be more than one woman if the UnSub got away and simply continued his patterns uninterrupted.

This was more controlled. The UnSub seemed determined to confront Spencer.

Spencer felt that was a confrontation he could win.

“We can have unmarked cars posted on every block. And the minute he breaches the house, you call it in. He won’t get anywhere near them.”

Spencer hated that it was their only choice.

“Okay.”

...

Keep reading here: Chapter Five - Brick By Boring Brick

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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silkjade · 6 months

Text

& IF WE’RE ALL DRESSED UP, THEY MIGHT AS WELL BE LOOKING AT US

featuring— neuvillette x reader ⤀ warnings: implied fem!reader, nothing specific + no pronouns mentioned ⤀ summary: making your debut as a couple at the hallow's eve ball a/n: wrote this last minute but i'm in one of the latest timezones, so happy halloween ! (written before 4.2 aq)

"furina might be upset if we steal her spotlight tonight," you mutter, fingers nervously straightening the cravat resting at neuvillette's neck for the nth time tonight.

"let her be upset then. it’s not a storm i haven’t weathered before," he replies, wrapping his hands around yours before lowering them back down to your sides. he's sure you've fixed his cravat to be more than perfect already.

"yes, but garnering our archon's contempt isn't exactly something off my bucket list..."

a low hum ripples in his throat as he tilts is head in earnest trepidation. "are you having second thoughts?"

you shake your head—absolutely not. a secret relationship is no easy feat, much less one with someone as high profile as neuvillette, who in spite of his distaste for lingering within the public eye, is still often thrust into the spotlight by those hoping for a glimpse into the chief justice’s private life.

"just a little nervous I guess," you breathe.

to reveal the nature of your relationship, is a decision you've made as a united front. the gossip columns of the steambird already run rampant with thinly veiled monikers, and there's not much either of you can do when an 'honorable monsieur n' is once again spotted with a 'mystery someone'.

it'd open the floodgates to an onslaught of curiosities, but neuvillette would have the city be his witness, for though he still has much to learn about the ins and outs of human nature, he knows for a fact that his entire heart is yours. so whilst no authority in this land can truly stop the peoples' whispers, if fontaine wishes to talk, they can do so on your terms, without the threat scandal.

before the two of you, stands a pair of large double doors; the only thing between you and focalor's hallows eve ball, the only shelter from the costumed elite of fontainian society who's predatory eyes would land on you the second you step past the threshold.

to your left, neuvillette stands with an arm behind his back, a perfect gentleman costumed in the finest fabrics, the gold metal details glinting under the chandelier's light. with a deep breath, you straighten as you exhale, carrying the weight of your own matching costume with a dignity befitting of the iudex's lover.

coppelia and coppelius, two individual entities, who when together, waltzes amidst a flurry of ice and wind, persevering through any storm. gingerly, you take his outstretched hand, nodding as the doors creak open.

a/n2: tbh i only wrote this cus i thought coppelia & coppelius would be a super cool couples costume HAHA anways thanks for reading, and as always, reblogs + feedback are super appreciated ^^

#— 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓙. ༯ #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette fluff #neuvillette x reader fluff #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact x you #neuvillette x you #genshin impact drabbles #genshin imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin fanfic #genshin impact

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strwbmei · 5 months

Text

Kinktober : BONUS LEVEL.

summary: in the midst of the crowded costume party; stelle needs you— and she needs you now.

contains: modern!au, college!au, female reader, mentioned alcohol usage, pet play sort of(?), stelle is referred to as a dog and she has a collar, transfem!stelle, stelle is taller, mentions of drugs, semi-public sex, creampie, power bottom reader, choking, unprotected sex, non-consensual creampie, stelle is a bit pathetic

pairing(s): pre-established stelle x reader

a/n: It's a bit late considering this was for Halloween, but this idea has been rotting in my brain for so long...

NSFW below the cut !

"Baby..." Stelle whined, looking down at you with those amber-hued puppy eyes she knew you couldn't possibly refuse. Not for long, at least. "Need you s'bad... Please?" The taller woman clung to your arm, tugging on your sleeve like a child who didn't get the toy they wanted.

After the two of you received an invitation to a quote-unquote, "small Halloween costume party" from a mutual acquaintance, you decided to go as the werewolf and little Red Riding Hood.

It was a great idea— the costumes worked well individually, but if someone saw both of you together, it'd be obvious that the two of you were a couple, though that was mostly because you were literally holding her on a leash that was attached to the collar her costume came with.

What wasn't a great idea, however, was going to the party in the first place. Within not even half an hour, the place reeked with the stench of vomit and cheap alcohol, and the second-rate Halloween decorations that were obviously only added as an afterthought were presumably torn off the walls by drunks.

Also, unlike the person who invited you two had said, the party was not small at all. The place was filled to the brim with couples and stoners; the only reason you two still stayed was because it'd be a waste to not use the costumes you already bought. They weren't really expensive, per se, but both of you were broke college students. You were going to make the most out of the $40 you spent on these costumes.

"Stelle, you can't just-" You inhaled, taking in a deep breath as you halt your words. "We're in public. I'm sorry, baby, but you can wait until we get home, hm?" You took her hands into your own, rubbing soothing circles on the back of her palm. The size difference was almost laughable.

Stelle heaved a dejected sigh, but you knew she hadn't given up quite yet. She was never one to be good with words— but she sure as hell was good at expressing her thoughts with her actions.

Which is probably why you can feel something hard and lengthy rubbing against your thigh as she wraps her arms protectively around your small frame. "Please. I'll make you feel so good, I promise..." She murmurs into your neck.

Well... it's not like you can just leave Stelle with a raging boner, right? Especially when you're what caused it in the first place. Right. You're just doing what any responsible girlfriend would do.

Though, you weren't aware that that included frantically unzipping her pants in god-knows-who's room as music blared from the cheap speakers downstairs.

"Wai- mmph..!" Stelle quickly put a hand over her mouth, stifling a moan as you hurriedly wrapped your lips around her cock. Though muffled, the sounds she made were more than audible.

Her eyes closed in ecstasy, her hands gripping your shoulders with a force that fluctuated between one of considerate eagerness and selfish desperation for her own pleasure— all telltale signs that she was going to cum soon, and you've grown all too familiar with them.

Though Stelle never could last long, the number of rounds she could go for was inhuman. Well, at least her ungodly amount of stamina is one thing about a werewolf that was even remotely similar to her.

As your head bobbed faster and faster in pace, her whimpers and moans grew louder and higher in pitch. With a strangled gasp, ropes of her warm semen flooded down your throat. Your mouth was pressed to her abdomen, swallowing every drop she had to offer.

"H-haah...~" The taller woman looked down at you with further aching need; cock still standing proud with a similar yearning. "Really, babe?" You sighed. A couple getting caught having sex in a party wasn't exactly a rare occurrence, and although normally people wouldn't care, it'd stain your pride.

Just as you were about to start jerking her off, she grabbed your hand by your wrist. "Wanna be inside you. Can I? I've been good..." She frowns; again, looking at you with those eyes.

First, she claimed that she'd make you feel good, only to settle for you sucking her off; second, does she really think she's been good? You wouldn't be in this situation if that were true in the first place. Liar.

However, you reckon you could give her a chance to prove herself...

Next thing you know, you're getting railed on the floor, barely able to keep yourself from falling over as Stelle rutted her hips into you. "W-wait, ah..!" You moaned. You didn't know what made Stelle so uncharacteristically... desperate, as if she were a dog in heat.

Maybe it was your costume? No, it looked good— but certainly not that good. And it wasn't revealing in the least, even the skirt was below knees length. Perhaps she was just too drunk? That's not it, either. Stelle has been drunk many times before and she's never acted like this.

Oh. The collar.

"Goddamit, Stelle...!" You huffed out in a hushed voice with all of the anger you could muster up. Everybody knows you can't ever stay mad at her, no matter what she does. Just like a cute puppy getting caught making a mess, Stelle only whines at your words; one hand over her mouth to muffle her sounds while the other kneaded at your breasts.

You pull her into a sloppy, hot kiss by her collar, the pace and strength of her thrusts unwavering. She whimpers into your mouth, swallowing all of your moans as she practically pounds you into the floor. Her cock was on the thicker side, rubbing perfectly against your walls while her tip kissed your cervix.

"Shit, so... tight...!" Stelle breaks out of your grip with little to no effort, hands needily grabbing and massaging at your tits. You tried to tell her to pull out, but you couldn't get any words out of your mouth through your moans. She mumbled a string of curses and apologies like a sinner begging for forgiveness. "Oh god, I'm gonna cum, gonna cum inside!"

With a choked moan, she held your hips down as you felt her warm cum fill you up. She lets out a sigh of pleasure as she pulls out of you, breathlessly pressing kisses on your inner thighs and apologizing. Though, seeing her cum leak out of you when she pressed down slightly on your stomach has her vigor returning tenfold...

Fuck it. She's cum inside of you already, what's the harm in two, maybe three more times? The night is young, after all.

╰┈➤ taglist ; @roninraccoon , @hedgehog666 , @dukemira , @yelanrambles , @the-night-owl-blr

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abibliophobiaa · 9 months

Text

Summary: You’ve never been one for love. Especially after your last round with it. Halloween rolls around and in comes Eddie Munson. He’s only in town for a couple days, you’re looking for no strings, and chances are you’ll never see him again anyway.

Easy, right?

That is, until you end up with an unexpected party favor.

mini series masterlist

next chapter

——

warnings: alcohol; smut; unprotected p in v; unplanned pregnancy and associated symptoms; major miscommunication. eddie munson x afab!reader(7k words)

——

“You’ve been staring around for hours. No one is catching your eye? Not even slightly? You’re not doing brain surgery, you’re just trying to get your toes wet.”

You knew this. But the music had been too loud, the room too heated, your body tucked away against the bar as you sat beside your best friend, sipping on a watery margarita that the ice had long since dissolved into.

All around you people bobbed and swayed to ‘Monster Mash.’ Cliche by all means, and yet it felt fitting when you appraised the crowd once more and noted the mummy dancing with his zombified partner. Further out you caught a werewolf in a particularly compromising position with a vampire, and a group of clowns crowded together hosting what looked to be a meeting.

“What about that Westley guy?”

Right — the one everyone had been talking about all night. The man who had the nerve to dress up as the direct counterpart to your own costume. With a huff, you hiked your leg up, crossing one over the other against the stool. The red dress around you shifted and moved, fingers reaching to adjust the belt around your waist.

“I haven’t seen him.” You shrugged, taking another sip of your drink. “For all I know, he doesn’t exist.”

Micah glanced about the room once again, her makeshift halo wobbling on her head. Somewhere in the distance her boyfriend, Jeremiah, was invested in a deeply riveting conversation about football with some of his friends from college. All of which had dressed in their old football jerseys, dark lines drawn haphazardly under eyes, helmets covering heads. She lingered on him for a moment, and then glanced further over your shoulder, lips tugging upward into a devilish grin. Oddly fitting for the girl dressed as an angel.

“Actually, he’s right there.”

Gravity sent your heart tumbling into your gut. Silly, when you’d thought about it. Just because he’d worn a costume from one of your comfort movies didn’t mean he’d be anything special. Multiple pirates, doctors, and the occasional Michael Myers and Freddy Krueger had already attempted to rouse a conversation, only for it to fall flat. This could very well end up the same, and this night was lost to the turmoil of the inner workings of your mind, still reeling from the sting rumbling in your chest over the past few months.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

But it wasn't a joke when you swiveled around on your stool and faced him. Not at all. In a dimly lit bar, packed too tight with too many bodies bumping you to and fro even as you presently sat, you spotted him. Found the guy people had been mentioning all night as the other half of your ‘couple’s costume,’ saying you both looked amazing together, despite the fact none of them knew he was quite literally a stranger to you.

He sat at a lonesome table. Leaned on an elbow with a cheshire grin spread across the prettiest set of pink lips. His dark curly hair was tied behind his head, tucked into the mask that covered the upper half of his face. Even partially obscured like that, he was handsome, freezing you in place with those piercing brown eyes that were locked unwaveringly on your silhouette.

So he’d noticed you too. Inwardly, you were beaming. After two months of couch surfing and feeling sorry for yourself after a failed relationship wherein you’d walked on your partner of two years with someone who most definitely wasn’t you, you’d decided tonight was the night you’d get back out there. A night of fun, a night to meet someone new, to let loose a bit.

“What are you waiting for,” your friend Micah asked, shoving you forward with a hasty push. “He’s your Westley. If this isn’t some weird ass fate, I don’t know what is.”

Your Westley’s smile grew wider as you approached. Corners dragged upward to form that broad grin, bracketed by the sweetest set of dimples you’d ever seen on a man. Heart pounding a bit, you leaned up against the table, letting out a noncommittal huff. Puffed out a deep breath that caught his attention and had those chocolate brown eyes solely on you.

“Is this space taken?” you asked, and he dipped his head in greeting. “So you’re the guy everyone has been talking about all night.”

“Ah, yes,” he laughed, and you couldn’t help but to smile at the very sound. It’s a lovely, hearty sound. The kind of laugh that seemed dangerous, because you might like it too much. “And you’re the girlfriend I didn’t know I had.”

“You too, huh?”

“Yeah,” he echoed, taking a step closer. “Though it’s all very flattering. Prettiest Princess Buttercup here.” He dropped the lowest part into a whisper, “Definitely a compliment because, if I’m being honest, you’re way out of my league.”

Your cheeks burned with the compliment, feet fidgeting beneath you where you stood. He reached over and slid a chair beside his hip, patting the surface so you could hop on up and join him, a hand of his reaching out to steady you when you wobbled a bit. Another round of drinks were ordered and you learned quickly his name was Eddie and he’d been in town only for a couple weeks now. Had a few gigs in the city for the band he played in and would be off in another two days. Blew in and out like the storm that presently raged outside, wind howling, rain splashing against sidewalks, lightning painting the night sky in a shock of white before leaving it dark once more. He’d grown up in a small town, but realized he’d only ever had dreams that were too small for the walls he’d been raised in.

So he’d ended up on a short tour and would head off to California to start laying down tracks for the band’s first ever album. He sounded so hopeful and eager, so rejuvenated and excited about life, and it had you endeared to him. Drifting closer as the night went on and he asked you about your own life. Learned you grew up here in the city but craved something quieter, very much unlike him. You’d studied creative writing and English in college and wanted to write the stories people would one day know and love and shelve in their homes, but in the meantime you worked at a library. It wasn’t the most thrilling job, but it kept you abreast, and he regaled you with the endless fantasy titles he’d known and loved through the years.

It wasn’t long before the hours trickled on by and Micah approached the two of you with a sulking Jeremiah in tow. The latter of the two a little too inebriated based on the slight sway in his form and the hand Micah kept firmly planted around his forearm.

Her blue eyes flickered up at Eddie’s face, then drifted back to yours. “I’m taking this idiot home. He’s in time out —”

“Noooo,” he moaned, forehead pressing into the crook of his girlfriend’s neck.

“Are you coming back with me or…?” Micah’s eyes trailed back upward to Eddie once more, brows arched curiously.

Eddie looked at you and shrugged. “Up to you, Buttercup.”

“I’m gonna stay…actually.”

Micah nodded, giving you both one last glance over before tugging her boyfriend along behind her in the direction of the door. As she passed, she leaned up against the hollow of your ear and said loud enough over the music, “Be careful. Have fun. You’re beautiful and I love you and you deserve to enjoy yourself tonight, okay?”

Once they were gone your attention returned to the man swathed in black standing before you, shoulder bumping his. “It's too loud in here,” you shouted for emphasis, insides nearly rattling from the music booming from the speakers positioned about the room. “Is there somewhere we can go that’s a little more…”

“Private?” he asked, leaning down toward your ear. Chills skittered along your arms as his lips nearly brushed your skin there, gooseflesh pimpling in its wake. “I have a hotel room two blocks over. How do you feel about running?”

“Let’s go.” You grinned.

“As you wish.” He beamed, holding out a gloved hand for you to take.

Outside, the two of you huddled up beneath the small awning growing smaller by the second with the other patrons who had similar ideas of waiting for their rides and cabs or braving the fall storm head on and taking off into the soaked streets in their full Halloween costumes.

Laughter bubbled up from your lips as a particularly hard jolt against your back sent you tumbling into his form, a quick hand of his reaching out and curling low around your back. He tensed, eyes locked on yours, awaiting your response and you leaned further into him, relishing in the heat of his form.

Moments skittered by under the awning. His eyes roamed your form, dark and beautiful, ringed with those little crinkles that appeared in the corners whenever he smiled. He’d been smiling all night — at you, a thought that has little butterfly wings quivering low in your belly, and lower still at the suddenness of the desire ramping up in your bloodstream.

The glowing lights from the bar filter out onto the street. Flashed orange and red across Eddie’s features, painted him in vibrant color, highlighting the plushness of his lips, the curve of his jaw, the bump of his chin. Hesitant fingers reached up to brush at the curls tied behind his head, curled one of the ringlet strands around and around a fingertip, your forearm spreading over the space between his shoulders, around his neck until he pressed in closer to you. Those chocolate brown eyes flickered southward. Lingered on your lips briefly before traveling back up, asking that question without words. Your only answer was the upward tip of your mouth, leaning into the space, waiting to feel him warm against you.

Electricity danced in the moments shared between you. In the fingertips that pressed into his shoulder and gripped tight as his nose nudged at the space beside yours, your mouth tipping up closer to his. From here, you could smell the mint he’d tossed in his mouth on the way out, could feel the tremble of his breath against your sternum, feel the heat of it fanning over your lips.

But the kiss never came. Behind you, a group of friends pushed and shoved toward the front door, nearly sending you and Eddie into the sidewalk and out of the shelter provided by your awning. It dawned on you then, however begrudgingly, that maybe you should move, give others a space to wait for their vehicles, and start to head in the direction of his hotel room.

He seemed to agree, sliding his palm down your forearm to twine his fingers between yours. “Guess that’s our cue, huh?”

“Bet you’re glad you wore the equivalent of tights for pants today, huh?”

“Suppose it makes it easier for me to whisk you away in the night, now doesn’t it?” He barked out a laugh, and clutched your hand tighter, dragging you out onto the street and into the rain.

——

You were presently in the midst of what was officially the weirdest, most endearing hook up you’d ever had. Moments after rushing out into the busy city streets and getting absolutely drenched from head to toe, Eddie tugged you toward a grocery store, suggesting he had nothing back at the hotel. Had looked a little bashful about it, even when you reassured him it was fine and you’d manage without, though he wouldn’t hear any of it.

As a result, you trailed behind him, dress sopping wet and clinging to every inch of your body, helping gather some things you might need in between what you hoped would be an eventful afternoon. Water, snacks, and the like. He seemed so giddy with it, and you hated the way his dimple in his cheek had your heart and thighs clenching. You preferred only the latter of the two, and couldn’t afford yourself the emotional aspect that came along with the former.

Eventually you had both found yourselves in the frozen food aisle, his shoulder bumping yours, your fingers dancing in the spaces between the two of you, the anticipation of after burning brighter with every minute that passed.

“How do you think they know what…oh, I don’t know…Moose Tracks taste like?” Eddie asked, turning his head over his shoulder.

Fortunately for you, he’d removed his mask, revealing more of his features. Those curls that dangled along his brow line, the smattering of freckles along high cheekbones, the crinkled corners of his eyes whenever he smiled at you.

“What?” you asked, once more reminding yourself of just how differently this night was going than you’d originally anticipated.

“Like what makes a Moose Track a Moose Track?”

“I think it’s just a…mix of things that remind them of…you know what?” His eyes twinkled, and you shifted a little closer. It really sucked that he was cute — obnoxiously so. “I actually don’t know. But, I do think we have more than enough stuff here to feed an army. And I think the rain finally let up.”

“You want to head out?”

“I think we should,” you agreed, tugging him along behind you down the aisle, in search of the nearest check out line.

The walk to the hotel room reminded you both of what you’d intended for that evening. The curious glances you would catch him shooting your way, the way you’d do the same when he focused his attention ahead. It increased with every step closer to the looming building, the desire for closeness, to feel, to touch, to taste.

Burned brighter when he swiped his key card and you started shoving the things he’d brought inside of the mini fridge, before snatching two water bottles and placing them down on the bedside table. He whistled as you walked around the room, fingers snapping, one of his curls tucked against the fullness of his mouth.

“You know, we don’t have to do anything,” you reassured him, sensing the nervousness radiating from his form.

Those dark eyes settled on yours as you approached, palm coming up slowly to rest against his sternum, right where you could feel his heartbeat clanging against his ribs.

“It’s been a while,” he settled on, voice softer than it had been all evening, a tremorous quality catching your attention.

“We’ll go slow,” you promised, leaning up to finally, and happily, close the space between the two of you.

It felt like a long, shared exhale. The way he immediately knew which way to turn his head, how you liked for his calloused fingers to rest against your cheekbone, that you wanted to be as close as possible, pressed flush against his form. Your head swam as he turned you around and walked you backward until your backside thumped against the edge of the dresser positioned against the wall opposite the bed. Grunted as he reached a hand up the back of your neck and sought out that pesky zipper you wanted so badly pulled down.

As if he’d read your mind, the man in question gave the zipper a nice, hard tug and the fabric shifted and dropped around your shoulders, baring the similarly colored bra beneath. So maybe you’d gone shopping for your first foray back after your break up? Based on the darkened eyes honing in on the lacy fabric, you’d picked correctly.

“Such a shame,” he groaned against the curve of your collar bone, fingers pushing the dress down and onto the floor, “really liked that dress.”

“My turn,” you mused, fingers reaching forward to tug the tunic free from his obscenely tight pants.

He helped you with ease, arms lifting just enough to help pull it over his head, giggling as his endless mane of curls sprang free. Tattoos jumped to life before your eyes. The multiple on his arms and torso, some looking faded and older, likely done in someone’s house, and others freshly inked, leaving a tapestry of stories he’d likely tell you if you’d only had the time.

“Fuck it.” He reached down and cupped your jaw, bruising kiss after bruising kiss laid upon your mouth, your toes digging into the carpet below as pale fingers trailed down the center of your chest, and then lower still, pausing at the hem of your panties. “Can I touch you?”

You might burst into flames if he didn’t. “Please.”

“Never have to say please with me, Buttercup,” he said, fingers pushing past that lacy barrier until they met your flesh, knowing exactly what he’d find there. “Sweetheart…this all for me?”

“Don’t tease.”

A broken sigh spilled from your lips, fingers clutched tight around his forearm as those expert fingers dragged a slow circle around your clit before sliding back to your center, pushing in. Your head rolled back against the wall, heat blooming anew as he stepped closer into the circle of your thighs, watching the rapid rise and fall of your chest, enjoying the sounds made only for him, the slickness of your center practically pulling his fingers back in with every perfect thrust curled in that spot right where you needed him the most.

“Fuck, just like that, sweetheart,” he panted, mouth pressed tight to yours, grinning against your skin as you keened high and tight, creeping closer and closer to your edge.

And just when you’d thought you were about to explode into dozens of tiny stars like in the night sky above, Eddie stopped. You nearly cried out his name in your frustration, only to find him dropping down onto his knees in front of the dresser, capable hands tugging you closer to the edge, before he pushed the dainty fabric back to the side and swapped his fingers for his tongue.

One long stripe from center to clit was all you'd needed for the rubber band to snap. For the shaking to start, the chanting of his name like a mantra or a prayer to rouse the neighbors likely next door and alert everyone in the building to what magic Eddie had worked between your thighs.

“Not,” you gasped, leaning your head forward to rest against his heaving chest, “fair.”

“What’s not fair, sweetheart?”

“Too good at that.” Another rasped breath pooled from your lips, quieted by the sound of your lips pressing to his chest. Hazy eyes lifted to his face, a satisfied exhale slowing the rise and fall of your chest. “Get on the bed.”

“What do you —”

“On the bed,” you repeated, grinning wickedly as he backed up just enough so his kneecaps hit the mattress. “I want to look at you.”

And god, what a sight he was. Once you’d finally managed to tug his pants down, revealing the boxers beneath, you were rewarded with the fullness of Eddie Munson in the flesh. The narrow waist, the smattering of hair you kissed along his abdomen, the curve of his chest, the freckles along his chest and shoulders. Traced along the tattoos on his chest, the sides of his ribs, the one on his upper thigh, before dragging upward to slide over the increasingly — and massively impressive — hardened cock peeking out from the waistband of his boxers.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he blew the words out on a shaky exhale as you squeezed a little tighter, gauging what he liked.

Your grin grew as you wiggled the remnants of his clothing off his hip and cupped the weight of him in your palm. Perfect. He was absolutely perfect, and you wanted so badly to show him just how much you thought so, sliding down further onto the edge of the bed, tongue dragging a long line up the underside, along that prominent vein that had him bucking upward off the bed.

“Can I, Eddie?”

He watched through hooded lashes as your eyes zeroed in on his leaking tip, thumb sliding over the pre-cum there, before gliding your palm in a slow downward motion around him. He nodded, breath nearly cutting off completely as you finally, and blessedly, welcomed him into your mouth, immediately knowing nothing would compare to this moment and this girl.

Ruined. You’d ruined him for others, your pretty smile around his cock driving him too swiftly to a precipice he didn’t want to see the end of. Not yet. “Wait, wait, wait. Fuck. Your mouth is perfect, sweetheart. But — mmm — I need you.”

He pulled you upward with a gentle hand on the back of your neck, rolling you over beneath him, tongue marking a path along your chest, the peaks of your nipples, the delicate skin of your abdomen. With each pass of his lips over your flesh, you sank deeper into the mattress, knee bent, foot digging into the space above his hip, drawing him close enough that you could feel his glistening, wet hardness brushing your abdomen.

“Someone’s impatient,” you teased, moaning as his finger circled your wet entrance. “Want you inside me.”

“Patience, Buttercup,” he practically purred, reaching over into the bedside table to find…nothing. “No. Oh shit. We didn’t get condoms. I’m such an idiot, I —”

“Shit,” you whimpered, jolting upright and nearly smashing your skull into his as he double checked the inside of the drawer. “What about your suitcase? Wallet?”

“I told you I don’t exactly do this often.”

Those dark brows knitted together on his forehead, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. You remembered then the fortunate and recent development of starting birth control after Micah suggested she could never live without it, and suddenly you wanted nothing more than to clasp your hands together and thank the heavens for the little pills you had back home in your friend’s bathroom.

“I’m on the pill,” you told him, swallowing the nervousness that grew with every beat of your heart. “And I’ve been tested recently. I’m clean.”

Maybe it was stupid. Maybe you should have known better.

“I’ve been tested since my last time too. I’m good,” he said, unmistakable desperation filling his voice.

“I don’t want to stop,” you whispered as he rolled onto his back.

“Me neither,” he agreed as you clambered over his lap and bracketed his hips with a thigh on either side.

Lured with the wonderful bliss that was Eddie Munson’s lips warm and plus against yours, you gripped him in hand and slowly lowered yourself down onto him, completely bare. There was something so raw about the moment. About the shuddered breath you both released, the way his hands cupped your hips as he pushed in deeper than you ever thought possible, his voice a broken mix of ‘that’s a good girl,’ ‘taking me so well,’ ‘look so good full of my cock,’ as you move over him.

You wanted to hate that you end up doing something between fucking and making love. For something so casual, it feels almost too intimate, the way you collided together like two pieces fitted together of a puzzle that had only been missing those parts.

And it wasn’t gentle, his fingers clutched in your flesh, feet planted on the bed as he eventually pounded up into you — but it was also somehow tender. A complicated mess, just like the shattered pieces of your heart as he groaned one last time and urged you to come with him, pulling you closer in his arms. His fingers circled your clit until you cried his name and clenched down around him, whimpering at the warmth of him spilling inside.

As you both drifted back to reality, he maneuvered around the bed and washed himself from between your thighs. Cooed when you winced at the cold contact, dropping a kiss against your forehead and telling you that it had started storming again. He could either call you a cab or you could stay the night, he’d suggested. You hadn’t anticipated spending the night with him, but after he dug around for the ice cream and M&Ms you got from the supermarket, you found you couldn’t say no to him.

Especially when he turned on the television and, funnily enough, The Princess Bride was on. Fate, or something more, seemed to laugh in your face. Gleeful as you sprawled out beneath the covers naked as the day you were born beside the man who you quickly learned enjoyed handfuls of popcorn mixed with his sweet chocolate treats.

It didn’t take long before he’d grown hard again, the lights dimmed and the food forgotten, your soft sighs and pleasured peals filling the room as he pushed in and watched as your eyes rolled back and back arched prettily for him.

And later, after you were both satiated and satisfied, you fell asleep to the sounds of Inigo Montoya’s famous speech, and the gentle inhales and exhales of the man sprawled out beneath you.

——

Daylight streamed in through the olive curtains positioned against the wall across from you. You hadn’t noticed them last night. Hadn’t noted the wooden walls, the pale ceiling above, nor the cream bedspread across your hips. Hadn’t noticed a lot of things, it seemed, other than the man who dozed behind you, tattooed arm slung low around your waist, keeping you in close.

Fallen asleep — you’d both fallen asleep watching The Princess Bride, much to your grunted amusement as you shifted up and into a sitting position. Eddie’s arm thumped onto the bed, leaving a wrinkled mess around his sinewy forearm. Sparing a glance over your shoulder, you took in the curve of his jaw. The way he looked more boyish than his nearly thirty years, lips parted in a sleepy breathing pattern, curls strewn all about his face. A smile graced your lips, fingers of yours rolling over the curve of his back, the heft of his shoulder, the breadth of his bicep.

Part of you craved curling back up beside him. Wanted to feel his mouth roving over yours, across your skin, between your thighs once more. Would probably dream about the way his face had scrunched up in pleasure before he came apart beneath you last night for weeks to come. But your eyes noticed the time ticking on the far wall, alerting you that work started in two hours. Some weekend reading activity for the children in your town you’d volunteered to work weekend hours for; hindsight, as they say, was twenty-twenty.

“She’s running away in the night,” he grumbled beside you, mouth rolling over to press into the pillow you had slept soundly on for a shocking eight hours, letting out a loud yawn. You couldn’t recall the last time you’d done so. That curly head of hair lifted, too-long strands falling into his gaze as he pinched one eye shut and glanced toward the giant bedroom window. “Or…morning, I guess?”

“I have work,” you said, reaching over to snatch your underwear from off the floor.

He watched with rapt attention as you whirled around and clasped your bra into place, cheeks burning despite the fact he’d seen every inch of you merely hours ago. The man propped himself up onto one elbow, your eyes catching the bat tattoos on his arm as his fingers reached over to curl around your hip, dragging you back down into bed.

Soon enough it was loud giggles, his fingers dancing along your sides, noisy kisses against your own. But it didn’t take long before you were reduced to breathy sighs. His fingers against the span of your hips, his chest pressing yours into the mattress. Lips over yours, against your cheek, the curve of your throat, the hollow between your breasts, the valley of your abdomen. He stopped with a nip along your hip bone, tongue laving over the sensitive skin there.

“Do you have to go?” he groaned against your stomach, placing a final kiss there before crawling back up your body and cradling the back of your head with one hand, his body weight perched on the other elbow, face hovering over your own. Pretty, he was so damn pretty and you wished you could hate him for it.

“I guess I have a few minutes,” you suggested coyly.

And it was all Eddie needed before he had you beneath him once more singing a tune he knew he’d never forget.

You dressed in silence after. He pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and a thin sweater while you glanced at the wrinkled heap of your dress from the night before. It hadn’t dawned on you the complications of getting your feet wet on Halloween — at least, not until now.

“I can’t walk back to Micah’s in that,” you groaned, pointing to the messy ball of fabric on the floor.

“Wait — I have an idea!”

Eddie rummaged around a box in the far corner of the room and tossed a tee shirt your way. Across the front was ‘Corroded Coffin’ in a messy font that reminded you of how your brain often felt after one too many cups of coffee in the morning.

“Your band?” you asked, turning the shirt around to show him.

“Yeah.” He nodded, white teeth flashing with his smile. “You know, you could see us some time.”

You quickly slipped the dress over your head and let the skirt ruffle messily along the floor, then moved to roll up the billowy sleeves to your shoulders.

“I can’t say that I’ll be in California any time soon,” you told him, pulling the tee over your head next and draping it over the belt. Like this, it looked more like an oddly fitted skirt and a top. You already decided that was much better than a Halloween costume, so it would do until you got home and could change.

He nodded rapidly, like he knew that, but hadn’t realized that you’d be coasts apart in only a couple of days.

“Well…” he trailed off, searching around the bedside table for a moment.

Once he procured a pencil and a piece of paper, he scribbled down a string of numbers you immediately knew were the hope for something more from a boy with kind eyes, a beautiful smile, and a heart of gold. Your chest ached. If only you’d met him two years ago, at a better time, in a place where you were more open to whatever this could not be.

“My number — for the place I’ll be staying at for the next couple months,” he explained, tucking it into the exposed circle of your palm, closing your fist within his fingers. “Maybe, I don’t know…we can talk?”

“I can do talking,” you conceded, already hating the fact you knew you wouldn’t be utilizing the number.

It was better this way; he was better off this way.

You both parted with a kiss in the doorway. With his arms looped low around your waist in a way that felt too familiar. A way that suffocated, heart twisting at the soft smile that graced his pretty mouth when he wished you a good shift and you wished him a safe flight.

The walk home was all inward grins that flowed on your face until it hurt. Waves to random strangers passing on the street, curious gazes from onlookers at the billowing sleeves you kept shoving up into your tee shirt as you passed. Memories of the night before flashed in your mind. Of his fingers tugging the zipper on the dress, tossing your underwear alongside his on the floor, mouth on yours, hands learning the contours of your body, the way he fitted perfectly inside you.

Another time, another place, another day maybe.

And that day was not today.

Micah was sprawled across the kitchen island when you entered. You shut the door as quietly as possible behind you, only to find she’d already been awake anyway. A cup of likely long gone cold coffee rested beside her along with a bottle of painkillers, her forehead pressed against the cool tile, nursing what you imagined had to be the headache from hell.

“You’re home late,” she grumbled, pushing her head up into her hands. Blonde hair spilled around her forearms, face covered behind her palms. “I’m assuming you had a good time. Which will at least make one of us. Jere passed out as soon as we got home and snored all night.”

“Sorry, sweetie,” you apologized, stepping further into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator immediately for some water. “I…we had fun.”

“I’m going to need you to spill, because he was cute even with the mask. Don’t think I didn’t notice,” she mused, suddenly healed of her headache, what with the way she looked at you like she’d received the best news of her life.

“I accomplished exactly what I wanted to. I got my toes wet.” You shrugged, lathering some butter onto a freshly toasted bagel.

“You like him,” she screeched, making her own self wince at the sheer volume of it.

You did. You do. But those feelings would fade. Your resolve had already hardened because he wanted romance and flowers and you needed no strings. He deserved that much — he deserved so much.

“We had sex, that’s all. And he’s leaving for California in a few days. I’m never going to see him again. So it doesn’t really matter, now does it?”

——

It hadn’t felt real. For days, you’d doubted every symptom. Every inkling that might have alluded to your present condition.

First, it had been the realization that your period was late. Not even the one or two days you would have pushed aside as a result of stress, the extra hours you’d taken up at work to try and save a little money here and there for a new apartment, or your severe lack of sleep. Then, the nauseousness started. In waves, most days, and definitely not only in the mornings like you’d been led to believe your whole life. Your chest ached next; a fullness that felt unlike your normal, monthly symptoms. Chalked it up to your oncoming period. The same period by that point was nearly two weeks delayed. There was also the fact that no matter how much you slept, you’d still felt like it wasn’t enough. Found yourself dozing off at work, yawning standing in the line for groceries, losing focus while out with friends.

There was also the fact statistics were on your side. You’d done all the right things and were on birth control at the time. So it couldn’t be…that, right? Statistically improbable, unlikely, unwarranted. At least, that was what you had chosen to reassure yourself with, quieting the shouting in your skull that suggested otherwise.

It wasn’t until you were sprawled out against that obnoxiously crinkly white paper in the doctor’s office a little over a month after Halloween that you’d even allowed the thought to enter your mind. It also happened to be the first moment you wondered if you were about to have the entirety of your life changed by a night with a boy in too tight pants you’d definitely not thought about even once since you’d spent the night with him. And you most definitely didn’t picture his dark pupils expanding in the night as you rolled over him, his palms gripping your hips, your hands on his chest, heads thrown back in shared ecstasy.

No.

Not at all.

Six weeks, they told you, with sympathetic looks and uncertain smiles as you exhaled shakily and stared up at the ceiling to stop the room from spinning out of control around you. Six weeks pregnant and undoubtedly so, based on the rapid thrum of the baby’s heartbeat on the screen before you. Strong, they’d said. Perfectly healthy for someone at this point in your pregnancy. They printed pictures up for you of the tiny gummy bear with arms and you held it in trembling hands as they began to speak. Words strung together to form sentences you’d barely understood. Options for next steps, vitamins to take, habits to stop, foods to eat and foods to avoid, how much caffeine to drink, how much weight you could lift and what activities you should start to limit—your head spun with it and continued the whole quiet walk home back to Micah’s place she shared with her boyfriend, Jeremiah.

She welcomed you with open arms as you entered their apartment with a pamphlet on pregnancy in one hand and your pocketbook in the other, whimpered cries of not knowing what to do soaking through her knitted sweater. She’d accepted it without hesitation, just as she always did and would. Held you close to her chest — and hissed at Jeremiah to leave when he’d eventually poked his head in — as you processed the emotions swirling like an endless kaleidoscope in your mind.

And later, when your tears had dried and she’d plopped a freshly opened box of ice cream in your lap and demanded you eat, she asked, “Please just…tell me it’s absolutely Westley’s and not Paul’s.”

“Six weeks,” you sighed, watching her shoulders relax. There was no mistaking who the baby’s father was, and at least that brought you some comfort, “Definitely Westley’s.”

Though you weren’t sure if that made it any better.

“I just want you to know it’s going to be okay,” Micah reassured you, reaching over to rub at your forearm. But did she really know that? How could she? Because to you, it felt like the earth had fallen out of orbit, spinning dizzily now with no signs of stopping any time soon. “I know we don’t have the most space right now, but the couch turns into a futon. It’s yours until you find something otherwise, you know that.”

Telling Eddie his world was (potentially) about to change happened two weeks later. You needed some time to process, is what you’d told yourself was the reason why you’d delayed. After hours of debating, you decided to keep it, and knew that there was always the chance Eddie didn’t want kids — always the chance he’d want to pretend it never happened and that he didn’t want to be a part of its life. Regardless of what he chose, you’d set your mind on being a mother, and you’d do it alone if you had to. But he at least deserved to know; deserved the option of choosing them, even if all you’d had was a night fueled by lust, because you weren’t interested in anything more than that.

Fear had clamped your mouth shut, preventing you from forming those two words for fourteen days. Just two simple words that would have opened the dam to let in the floodgates for the conversation that needed to happen.

Eddie, I’m pregnant.

I’m pregnant.

You’d rehearsed it all afternoon, pacing a certifiable hole in the ground from how rapidly you’d moved. Had even stood in front of your friends and had them listen to it until you felt confident enough to do it for real. Gripped Micah’s hand tight as you swiped the man’s number from your pocketbook and dialed. It rang once, then twice, and you worried he wouldn’t answer or you’d caught him at a bad time when the line exploded with sound. Voices. Dozens of voices spilled through the other line, and music along with it.

You winced. “Uhm, Eddie? Is this the right number?”

A long pause extended, drowned out by guitar strings and drum beats. “Uh — uh, yeah. This is him.”

He sounded gruffer than you remembered — voice tinged with a smokier quality that seemed almost unfamiliar to you now. Not that you’d spoken much that night. Maybe he’d caught something, maybe he was sick. Maybe it was merely the weeks that had grown on since you’d seen him, and he'd become another person in the crowd already — someone you knew if only for a night. Heart pounding, you gripped Micah’s hand tighter and wound the phone wire around a pointed fingertip.

“Hi…I’m sorry I’m only calling now. Busy, you know?” A lie, because you’d never intended to call. It had been one night; that was all it was ever meant to be. “It’s the…girl from the party. The Buttercup to your Westley costume on Halloween.”

He chuckled in reply, and you wondered if maybe he was shy. He’d been looser the night you met — louder. Boisterous and passionate. Carefree and fun. But you wondered briefly if that was the glass of whiskey he’d drunk before you slipped away to his hotel room hearing him now. But you remembered that next morning, too; his splendid affection, the kissing, the exuberance of his persona, the way he’d made you fall apart around him again.

It seemed…strange now. Cut off, cold even.

“I’m…pregnant. I just —” You swallowed the knot of fear forming in the back of your throat and continued, “I just thought you should know…because it’s yours.”

There was another prolonged pause.

Nervousness welled up in your throat the longer it continued. Joined that roiling nausea that had become your friend and foe these weeks. Swallowing thickly, your fingers pressed over the span of your abdomen, over the knitted sweater and skin protecting your tiny secret — still not visible to others yet, but wholly your own all the same. You’d already decided you would love them fiercely enough for the both of you if he didn’t want anything to do with it, just so they’d never feel like they were missing out.

Then, after what felt like decades, he asked, “Who is this again?”

You repeated your name, nervousness rattling your bones, fingers trembling in Micah’s. Micah mouthed out ‘Breathe,’ even though you were doing anything but.

The line went dead, and your heart along with it.

——

let me know what you think! 🩷

#lunaloveseddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfiction

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orchid3a · 3 months

Text

𝙄𝙉 𝘼 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙇𝘿 𝙊𝙁 𝘽𝙊𝙔𝙎, 𝙃𝙀 𝙄𝙎 𝘼 𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙉

―୨୧⋆ ˚ or itadori yuuji proving to be the best boyfriend ever

―୨୧⋆ ˚ content: fem!reader, yuuji and sukuna are twins, yn and sukuna have a beef, mentions of vengeance (yn is going to kill sukuna lol), mentions of flu, yuuji being the greenest green flag ever, nobamaki as hachinana, sukuna's foul language, choso being the older brother, beta-reading (?) ―୨୧⋆ ˚ word count: 1.6k words ―୨୧⋆ ˚ author’s note: woah… it has been a year since i posted a fic of mine lol. well, i just want to start this year popping out my love for itadori yuuji <3, hope you all like this fic, please reblog and comment <3 i have to thank t*kt*k for this idea ―୨୧⋆ ˚ tagging: @blueparadis

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

The only sounds in your room were your sneezes and soft imprecations towards whoever cursed you to stay bedridden on the most important weekend of your nerd life.

The anime convention of the month. You spent so many energies to craft your cosplay, and even managed to make one for your boyfriend, Yuji, so you two could make a couple cosplay. However, here you were, bedridden with a fever of 39°C, while your friends were having fun at the convention.

And you knew who he was, and you would make him pay for his ruining it. You could gamble your allowance that someone was a certain cute pink-haired boy’s twin, a certain mean and annoying twin who hated seeing you and his kind twin happy together.

Your thoughts of vengeance were interrupted, once again, by your nth sneeze, as you sighed loudly, before falling in the soft warmth of the bed. Grumbling, you turn on your side, your hand tasting the night table near your bed. Your fingers met something cold, your phone, as you took it. The screen brightness almost blinded you, you closed your eyes for a few seconds, to make them adjust to the brightness. Once again, you opened it and noticed a few texts from your friends, it seemed that they were having fun at the convention.

Nobara sent you a photo of her and Maki, dressed up as Hachi and Nana from NANA. You almost fawned on how pretty and cool they were, you typed a long message declaring how much you adored and loved their cosplays. You coughed a little, as you saw other messages from your other friends who were there. Honestly, you wanted to cry, it wasn’t fair that they managed to enjoy the convention, while you were in your room coughing and sneezing. You spent days, no weeks, to prepare the perfect cosplay, managing to not spend too much money and sew almost the entirety of the costume, create some of the accessories, and the only thing you had to buy was the wig. You were proud of yourself and your work. Frustrated, you put the phone on the night table once again, before rolling on your side, trying to gain sleep, at least you could do that without coughing or sneezing.

“(-me).”

You grunted as you rolled in your fuzzy sheets, trying to ignore the voice, however your attempt was a failure as someone stripped them off. Before you could curse him, your eyes met with the brown ones of your boyfriend, Yuji. You blinked a few times, surprised, you didn’t expect to see him, especially after going to the convention for who knew how long. Coughing, you tried to stand up, however, Yuji immediately helped you sit straight and even put a pillow behind your back, so you could stay comfortable. He was such a househusband material, you thought as you coughed one last time.

“Thank you, Yuji.” You thanked him as he gave you the water bottle that was on the nightstand. “Why are you here? Aren’t you tired from the convention?”

The pink-haired boy just grinned at your words, as he proudly showed you three bags, as he put them delicately on your lap. They were quite heavy, and you wondered what it was inside, as you opened one of them and you gasped loudly.

“I was right about you liking my surprise, and now Kusigaki has to give me ten bucks.” He chuckled as he grinned, thinking about the bet he just won, then he pointed to one bag before he added. “I bought you some presents, go on, babe, open them.” He reassured you with the biggest smile ever.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his smile, he sure was able to make you feel better even with just his precious smile. How you wanted to kiss him, but you didn’t want to pass him your flu. You cursed your flu once again for taking away from you the possibility to smooch your pretty boyfriend.

Trusting Yuuji’s words, you opened the first bag and a loud gasp, followed by a cough, left your lips, as your eyes widened. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, your head automatically shifted to your boyfriend, as he was grinning at your reaction.

“Then? I bought the right merch~ Yay! And the others didn’t believe me! Ah, serves them right!” The pink-haired boy just smiled as he waited patiently for you to open all your presents.

Your eyes scanned the content of the bag, noticing all the pins, badges, figures, and acrylics of your favourite characters of various animes and video games you mentioned to him. He didn’t forget one character, never in your previous relationship your exes remembered all this information, you were dumbfounded. Your eyes met Yuuji’s brownish ones, and you swore you could read all the excitement he had because of your surprised expression.

“Yuu… How could you remember all my favourite characters? I mean, it’s inhumanly impossible. Are you an alien?” You asked, blinking twice, as you saw his grin becoming ever bigger.

He scratched his neck as he just mumbled. “Well, you showed me so many times their faces that I just remembered them more than my favourite ones. I was sure that you would like them, knowing that you’re stuck to bed because of your flu and not at the convention.”

Your vision started to blur, as tears threatened to run over your cheeks, you couldn’t believe how could you date someone so amazing and loving as Yuuji. He was truly the best boyfriend ever.

The pink-haired man panicked when he saw your tears as he tried to cheer you up the best as he could, while he dried your tears with the sleeve of his hoodie.

It took you a few minutes to calm down, and now you were still in the bed, Yuuji with you, as his arms were wrapped around your waist, cheek pressed on top of your head. You tried to stop him, fearing he would get sick, but Yuuji didn’t listen, saying that he couldn’t get sick. After a few more protests, you gave in. How could you say no to him?

While cuddling, you opened the other bags, gasping and thanking profusely Yuuji for the plushes, gadgets and mangas he bought. And of course, you scolded him for spending so much money just for you! You didn’t like that he focused only on you, he should have enjoyed the convention for himself too!

“But I knew that you wanted to go there more than me, of course I had to buy you those things, I didn’t want to see your sad face because you missed out this opportunity.”

You swore your heart was shot by Cupid’s arrow once again, how could Yuuji be so romantic and caring towards you? He was truly a treasure.

A box peeked up from the last bag, your curiosity was picked, as you grabbed the box to discover that it was a Nendoroid. You didn’t recognize the character, nor did you remember ever talking about such anime. Maybe Yuuji watched it, and he just bought it, maybe you could suggest watching it together, so you could understand why he bought that specific character.

Yuuji’s eyes landed on the box in your hands, a sheepish smile blossomed as his cheeks went warm. An embarrassed chuckle left his lips before he took from your hands, before looking fondly at you, then at the character in the box.

“Yuu, why did you buy this character? Do you like her design? I mean, it’s adorable, she looks like a magical girl. “You asked as you looked closely at the character. Only now, you noticed that she had your same hair colour and the same was for her eyes. It was a curious coincidence; however, it wasn’t strange that you shared physical traits with a character, it could happen sometimes.

Yuuji’s smile softened when he saw you looking at the figure, before ruffling sweetly your hair.

“I don’t know her or the anime she is from… I just bought it because she reminds me of you. I thought that if I bought her, I could always have my lovely (Name) always with me, even if you aren’t with me physically.” He concluded, as his cheeks were reddish.

Your heart was once again hit by a Cupid’s arrow as you stared at Yuuji and his red cheeks, and you swore to yourself that sooner or later you would put a damned ring on his finger and marry him.

Suddenly you pulled him in your arms, now your flu the last of your problems, as he was laying on your chest, while you peppered his face with kisses and sweet praises. Yuuji melt in your embrace as he just let you smoother him with affection and physical touches.

And today too, Yuuji proved how much he loved you.

Bonus

A sneeze followed by a cough were enough to anger the fragile temper of a certain pink-haired twin, especially if the disturbance of his pace was his idiotic twin. Sukuna glared at his sick twin, who was laying on the couch, being babied by their older brother, Choso.

Sukuna wondered how stupid Yuuji could be sometimes, as he asked himself how he could be the twin of such an idiot, he was clearly the better one. (Choso may say otherwise, but Sukuna didn’t care)

Another loud sneeze irked Sukuna, as he turned his head towards his twin.“You fucking brat! If you fuck-”

“Sukuna! Language!” Choso screamed.

And another lovely day at the Itadori household began like that.

#✒️ - aria writes #🧸- virtus #jjk x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #yuuji x reader #jjk fluff #yuuji fluff #jjk x reader fluff #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #itadori x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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clairdelunelove · 6 months

Text

hahahah definitely not biting my fist from the thought of boyfriend!ghost taking you to a scare park for the night

doesn’t grasp why people would wish to be scared by a bunch of underpaid workers in costumes and dramatic makeup. hell, people even pay for this. actual money dropped on a couple minutes of entertainment. he’d rather spend his money on gifting you something pretty like a dainty necklace that’d look stunning adorning your neck. maybe fit his initials on there as well. I digress. sure, visiting the scare park was just for the occasion but hell, he’d gladly give people a run for their money- free of charge. a massive man clad in a skeletal mask was bound to gain such a startling reaction. and honestly, ghost’s assumption is true as he fits right in with the spooky decor. flocks of people parted a way for him to pass through when the two of you ambled into the scare park. not to mention the obvious stares that were directed to you two when ghost pulled up into the parking lot on a sleek motorcycle. dark fumes and a resounding engine. the epitome of bad news but tempting promises that normal men wouldn’t dream of competing with.

boyfriend!ghost who doesn’t care for the attention or scrutiny. no, he’s much more focused on the pretty little thing that dangles by his side. ghost isn’t sure how but you manage to appear even more radiant in the cheap fluorescent lights that litter the entryway of the scare park. you’re excited, he notes, as your fingers eagerly thrum against his forearm where he has your hand tucked in the crook of his arm. attempting to keep you warm in the breezy autumn evening. it’s dusk; when the sky morphs into a splattering of crimson and orange. the corners of your lips lift before exclaiming, “this way!” he allows you to tug him around, an absurd sight to witness such a menacing man being heaved away, and the two of you end up in line. it’s the fast lane, of course. ghost couldn’t help but spend a little more to lessen the wait-time so you wouldn’t stand for so long. can’t have his sweetheart doing that on such a chilly night.

boyfriend!ghost who lets you ramble on and on while the two of you are standing in line. appreciates how you can both share silence but also revels in your ability to prattle about whatever’s on your mind. could be anything, honestly. pointing out which decorations you found the most sinister, how you had to change your outfit several times beforehand (he worshiped you in everything you put on and took off), or how the night grew colder with each passing moment. thinks highly of your voice and enthusiasm since they’re such particular traits that belong to you. adds in the occasional quip to demonstrate that he’s listening. but he always is. very cognizant of how your voice lifts at the end of your sentences, the stutter in some words, or the pace of your breathing. but goodness forbid if anyone else in line was talking. leans real close to you and murmurs, “bloke’s as loud as a fuckin’ fire alarm. whole city can hear ‘em.” he’s enamored by the giggle that leaves your mouth and ghost is no stranger to being pompous, especially if someone else interrupts you. raises his brash voice and snarls, “bloody loud so do me a favor and shut up, yeah?”

boyfriend!ghost who gives you his jacket. shrugs it off and drapes it over your shoulders. forever the gentleman. the bulk of his physique is fully on display and it’s taking you all of your willpower to not ogle at him. all breadth and muscle. the jacket smells distinctly of him too. gunpowder, cigarette smoke, and musk– your favorite. you pull the leather jacket closer to your face to discreetly take a whiff of the intoxicating scent and ghost knowingly shakes his head while ruffling your hair. lightly chastises by mentioning, “don’t needa do all that, pup.” when he pulls his hand away he intertwines yours with his. the small intimacy was significant to him. you can feel his cold rings against your fingers and it has you inwardly swooning. absentmindedly twirling the pieces of jewelry on his fingers until the two of you are finally ushered into the building.

boyfriend!ghost who wouldn’t necessarily claim that he’s protective of you but he does have a firm hand on the small of your back while traversing in the dark space. he’s so good at moving and tracking in the dark that it’s impressive. figuratively has night vision. he prefers the two of you to be side by side rather than letting you lead in front. wants to be the first one to encounter the scare actors/animatronics so he’s aware of what to expect. he's your own personal guard in the scary place. huffs in amusement whenever you’re spooked by the jumpscares but always checks up on you. mutters, “let me know if it’s too much, pretty thing. can always exit out the back,” and his voice is considerably softer to show that he’s serious. your comfort is his comfort.

boyfriend!ghost who’s the type to lock eyes with the scare actors and will keep staring at them until they’re the one to avert their gaze. uses his big, sharp eyes to intimidate. it’s a sign of dominance and he wins every time. to be honest, the scare actors recognize that he’s just here for you because no matter what– he doesn’t get scared. not even startled. doesn’t even pretend to be ‘macho’ because that’s just how he is. he literally slow blinks at them when they shriek in his face. mans has been on the battlefield for a majority of his life, a little fake blood and screaming isn’t alarming to him. the only reaction they receive is if they accidentally get too close in your personal space. he’ll place a heavy hand on their chest to smoothly ease them away as he remarks, “gettin’ too cheeky there, mate.”

boyfriend!ghost who supposes that scare parks weren’t entirely a waste of time. not if it’s a function where he can flaunt you off. a big, gruff man like him granted the pleasure of spending time with you. you’re in high spirits once the two of you leave the building. all smiles while swinging your intertwined hands around and expressing, “it wasn’t as bad as I thought.” loves you like this; basically a melted puddle of bliss and he’s debating on spending more money on additional tickets just to see you so satisfied. “what did you think about it, si?” you ask him with a cute tilt of your head, “did you like it too?” he steers you clear of a crowd of people before answering, “‘ts was alright. thought you’d piss your pants from how much screamin’ you did.” a chuckle escapes his lips when you lightly jab at him for the comment. although he’s attuned with your conversation, his hooded eyes drift entirely somewhere else. specifically to a couple of people that sleazily drag their eyes to you and his blood boils at the audacity.

boyfriend!ghost who tenderly grabs your neck while leaning into a kiss. he’s not one for outward public affection so it catches you by surprise yet you part your glossy lips with such ease that he groans in delight. you look up at him through your lashes as the feeling of his calloused fingers encircling your neck do little to quell the swirling desire within you. “si,” you gingerly whine and attempt to press yourself closer to him, “everyone’s looking.” you peek at the throes of people that are steadily lined up to go into the building. and in ghost’s case, that’s exactly what he wants. doesn’t bother throwing a glance over his shoulder. just gazes at you with that dark, hungry glint in his eyes before murmuring, “let ‘em,” and pulls you in for another slow kiss. his voice is wrecked. the kiss is messy– greedy in the way he knows how to be with you only. a soft mewl passes from your lips and he’s gone. you devastate him. needs to usher you home and sink his teeth into your soft, pretty skin. litter you with love that others can immediately comprehend that yes, you’re well taken care of by him. the ruthless man that does everything (and anything) to plead for your adoration. he drinks up your heady noises and pulls away with a hot huff near the shell of your ear. his praise is like music to your ears, “did so good for me, y’know that sweetheart?”

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost x y/n #ghost x you

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hvlplvss · 5 months

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| LIGHT SHOWER

colby brock x singer!reader

summary: in which, colby brock is watching the opening show of his girlfriends tour, PORTALS, and he comes to realise a song is dedicated purely to him.

warnings: pure fluff. that’s all i have to say at this point. small mention of previous bad relationships

authors note: inspired by the song LIGHT SHOWER by melanie martinez. ur baso melanie martinez in this lmao. absolutely love her so i had to. but please just search on tiktok or smth ‘melanie martinez portals’ so you have an idea!!!

y/n has released her fourth album ever this year. PORTALS. something completely different from the rest of her albums.

a new era, most would call it. after creating the K-12 film, it took deep consideration and thought of the next steps in her career. which is when she came up with the idea of the fairy/nymph creature her music persona would become.

exploring this route, changed her entire aesthetic and when she disappeared off of social media for ages people began to speculate.

she’d even stopped appearing in her boyfriends youtube videos. y/n use to frequently take part in sam and colby’s ghost hunting videos, but after finishing her K-12 tour, she disappeared.

there was rare occurrences where colby would post her on instagram, only because y/n had agreed. but other than that, no one knew what was going on.

but here she was now with her fairy outfit on. the mask with four eyes, and the big fairy ears that stopped near her neck. the wig and the costume which were all purely based on the aesthetic of the album.

denver, colorado. the first show of the PORTALS tour. no one knew what to expect.

even colby didn’t know what to expect. he wasn’t even allowed to listen to the songs yet. y/n wanted to surprise him with all the music when he first watched the tour.

so he had no clue what to expect either. but to say he was excited was an understatement.

the boy was in awe of what his girlfriend had created. her imagination being the biggest ever. and no one seemed to be able to surpass her alternative, yet insanely creative ways.

sam and colby had agreed on taking a small break, while y/n made this huge leap. sam would of course go to the first concert with colby, accompanying his best friend, and supporting his other close friend.

the boys had brought a camcorder, so they could capture little things from y/n’s show on a cute little vhs film, which colby knew y/n would adore. and he was right.

colby and y/n walked slightly in front of sam backstage, holding hands, while sam secretly recorded the couple on the vhs.

the two swung their hands back and forth, colby being careful of the gloves which y/n wore to add to the look.

“it’s crazy, y’know?” colby said.

y/n looked up at him, “what’d you mean?”

“just, you. like i remember watching you at the last shows of crybaby and now you’re here. and i get to experience all of this with you. i just feel so lucky to have someone as smart and creative as you,” he explained.

y/n smiled, squeezing colby’s hand as they approached the wings of the stage, “you gonna go stand in front of the barricade?” y/n asked. colby nodded, “try to not to get taken down by crazy people,” y/n joked.

colby laughed, looking down at his girlfriend. “i am so so lucky,” he repeated. he gently pressed a kiss to her hair, careful of the mask, which was hand-painted to perfection. “i love you y/n, truly,”

y/n smiled, “i love you colby,” she was handed her microphone, as he began walking away, sending her a little cute wave as he disappeared.

now this song just meant even more for her to be able to perform.

sam had stuck in the wings, while colby had disappeared in front of the stage, waving at the few fans who managed to secure spaces at barricade. he held the camcorder in one hand, getting ready to record the first snippet as soon as he could.

“hello earthlings. it’s me, crybaby. i know you can’t see me. but i’m still here. wanna know a secret? there’s still a piece of me trying to become an angel. look into the light and repeat after me. our energy can’t be destroyed, we find our light within the void. we’ve been here before, we can do it again. the evolution will never end. we are protected, we are immortal. and tonight, we step into the portal,”

a note began and y/n stepped onto stage in her fairy form. “death is life, is death, is life, is death, is life, is,” drum beats.

colby picked up the camcorder as his girlfriend stepped forward, closer to the edge of the stage.

he looked in awe of the girl, taking in every little bit about her and how far she had come. the people she was able to bring together.

she was nearing the end of the fourth song on the album, ‘faerie soiree’. quite an upbeat song, which then faded into a slow ending, so far colby’s favourite song out the four he had heard.

watching his girlfriend dance across the stage, feeling her music so dearly. as the song ended, y/n’s four dancers walked off of the stage, leaving her alone.

new music started, the intro beginning to play. the girl walked forward to the edge of the stage, going down to her knees, sitting on her feet.

she sat in the centre of the stage, reaching out for colby’s hand, who gladly held on. y/n moved the microphone updward towards her lips. she looked at the boy in front of her.

“you are the light I've been searchin' for forever. feels like, man, i’ve really never felt the rain. buried in the desert, didn't think i’d push through the dirt. you just cleansed me like a waterfall, you came”

colby had then realised, there was a song written for him. y/n never fully wrote songs for someone. she always wrote them based on a broader subject.

however colby, didn’t want to jump to conclusions immediately, so he just continued to stare directly at his girlfriend, who didn’t take her eyes off of him.

“i’m screamin' like a kettle on a stove. you cranked the heat up, i was cold. my past grew mold around my heart. and all my anger, sadness, regret disappeared. it’s madness, i’m not used to all this water, love, it's true,”

this was what confirmed it for colby. as cocky as it sounds. y/n was singing for him. she was singing to him and only him.

he knew all about her past and how she was treated previously. and he’d promised to give her everything he could, treat her with the upmost respect and love. and that’s what he did.

“but you made me want to. plan out my last days on earth, eating you. ooh-ooh-ooh. the tips of your teeth fit perfect in me. you’re a shower of light i’d devour, anyday of the week. baby, cleanse me,”

the song had finished, and if colby was lying, he’d say he didn’t cry. but that boy had tears in his eyes and people who were standing off to the side behind him, could tell.

y/n let go off his hand, blew a kiss and ran off stage, preparing for her next song. colby wiped his left eye, to stop the tear that was so close to running down his face.

as the dancers came back on, dancing while y/n prepared to come on for her next song, colby picked up the camcorder and pretend like he didn’t just fall further in love with the girl.

colby assumed it was nearing the end of the show, as y/n was now finishing her 15th song, so he left from the barricade and walked back to the wings of the stage, meeting sam, who stood with his phone out, recording her from the sides.

sam noticed colby’s oncoming presence, “you alright there, colby?” sam asked, putting his phone down and turning to his friend.

“yeah, just you know, taking everything in,” he nodded.

“saw you shed a couple of tears down there, bro,” sam patted colby on the back, but he shoved his arm off.

“shut up,” he said in embarrassment.

sam rolled his eyes, “it’s fine colby. when y/n came off stage, she was crying. not in a bad way or anything. i think she just can’t believe everything, and having you here after everything she went through,” sam explained.

colby smiled slightly, looking down to the ground, “i really love her you know,” colby spoke, his eyes darting to the stage watching y/n finish her final song.

“and she loves you, so much,” sam replied, “she called you her light shower or whatever,”

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock smut #colby brock x reader #sam and colby #sam golbach x reader #smut #sam and colby smut #melanie martinez #portals #crybaby #k 12 #singer #Spotify

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userlando · 2 years

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✧･ﾟ 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 (𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢'𝐦 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮)

billy hargrove x fem!reader [12.1k] summary ⤍ jason can’t seem to keep his grimy hands off of you at tina’s yearly halloween rager, and billy really does not like that. warnings ⤍ 18+ (minors dni), petname use, sexual assault (jason touches reader without her consent), explicit language, mentions of alcohol and smoking, fingering, oral (f receiving), protected piv sex, light choking, hair pulling. a/n ⤍ this idea came to me thanks to this gif and could not leave me until i wrote it down. obviously billy isn’t the racist douchebag he canonically is, so keep that in mind. please let me know what you think <3

The soles of your shoes stuck to the hardwood floor as you weaved between the crowd of sweaty, drunken teenagers. Your eyes were searching for Nancy, Robin or even Steve but you were beginning to lose hope, seeing as you had lost them about twenty minutes ago and not caught a glimpse of them since then.

You grumbled under your breath, recalling your pact to stay together in case things got out of hand. Which, it was bound to happen seeing as it was a rager hosted by none other than Tina herself; On Halloween night nonetheless. Her parties always ended up with the cops getting called because some genius decided that jumping from the second floor into her pool was a good idea. Or maybe some poor sucker had wandered drunkenly over to the next house over and vomited all over the lawn belonging to an old couple.

It felt like half the school was here, and you were beginning to regret coming in the first place. It wasn’t that you hated parties, they were almost always fun and eventful. But, you would’ve been perfectly happy with a horror movie night and so was Robin at first. She was the one who’d suggested it earlier this week at Family Video all up until she’d heard that Vickie was making an appearance and suddenly Fright Night and Day of the Dead were far from her mind and all she could focus on was your costumes.

Your own costume was starting to itch, the humid air in the house making it stick to your skin but you shook the discomfort off in order to find the kitchen. The costume you were wearing was a slight replica of Madonna’s Like a Virgin dress, it had so much tulle and lace but it was gorgeous and made your chest look way more defined than usual.

Nancy had done most of the work in assembling it to look even remotely close to the original, and Robin had laughed at the absurd amount of tulle but you looked good and that was all that mattered.

A senior you didn’t even recognise took a step back into you, disturbing your wandering mind and you pushed at him with a frown when he drunkenly stumbled into you. Of course it just happened to be the stickiest, bloodiest boy who smeared half your arm with whatever he’d slathered himself in.

“Oops, sorry.” He gave you a grin that was far from sorry, and promptly turned his back to you.

You had a half a mind to kick him in retaliation before thinking twice, turning around and making your way to the kitchen instead. The crowd was already rowdy and insufferable, but it went up in volume as people gathered by the front door. Someone popular had clearly shown up. You took it as an opportunity to sneak off into the kitchen, a major sigh of relief escaping you when you caught sight of Steve’s mop of styled hair.

“There you are!” He exclaimed as he saw you, reaching an arm out and pulling you in by the shoulders when you got close enough.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you guys.” You sounded accusing even to your own ears, but you couldn’t help it.

“I kn - What the fuck happened to you?” He took a step back and held you at arms length, inspecting the artificial blood smeared on your arms in mild shock and concern.

You squinted your eyes when you inspected his own, glassy ones. The boy was clearly inebriated and it made you grin. Drunk Steve was fun.

“Just some asshole that bumped into me.” You looked around for paper towels and quickly gave up when you couldn’t find any amongst the mess in the kitchen. “It’s fake Steve, you don’t have to look so queasy.”

Steve shoved gently at your shoulder.

“M’not.” He grumbled, even though his face said otherwise. “You having a good time?”

“It’s fine,” you said, choosing not to be a debby downer and tell it as it is. “Where did you go off to?”

Steve downed the last of his drink, bobbing his head with a grimace and you watched in amusement when his hair moved with him. He gestured vaguely with a hand behind him where the backyard was.

“Was talkin’ to Casey,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t been pining over her for the past two weeks.

“Oh?” Your eyebrows raised, intrigued.

Steve rolled his eyes, “She was a dud.”

“Well, that’s disappointing.” You muttered loudly enough for him to hear, to which he nodded with an expression on his face that said whatever.

You watched him refill his drink, pausing when a girl you didn’t recognise walked up to him. She seemed drunk, if her glassy eyes were anything to go by, but she was pretty and definitely Steve’s type. He seemed to recognise her, straightening up his posture and striking her with that deadly charming grin. You watched them for a moment before losing interest, deciding that the bathroom was where you needed to be so you could clean yourself up a bit.

Your arm had been rubbed raw but you’d finally gotten rid of most of it when people started pounding on the door. Someone distinctively yelled about taking a piss, voice getting lost in the pulsing music coming from downstairs and you quickly unlocked the door.

The jock on the other side gave a sigh of irritation - or was it relief? You couldn’t tell - before he shoved you aside with minimal care to make his way into the bathroom. You followed him with your eyes, turning around to quickly escape when you realised he was halfway to unzipping and shoving his pants down.

The party had gotten even more obnoxious and louder as you descended the stairs. You watched on in mild amusement as a couple stumbled up the stairs, giggling and groping each other.

“Hey,” the voice was loud enough to make you stop before you’d taken the last five steps down, coming face to face with the last person you’d hoped to see. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Jason.” Your voice was dry as you gave him a tight smile from where he stood at the bottom of the staircase, blocking your escape.

The jock in question grinned, seemingly unfazed by your lack of enthusiasm as he took a step up, bringing him closer closer - and taller than - you.

“I’ve looked around for you,” he said. “figured you’d be here when I saw Harrington around.”

You didn’t even want to question what he meant by that, arms crossing over your chest when his gaze lingered uncomfortably.

“I was just leaving, so…” you trailed off with a polite smile, taking a step to the side closest to the wall.

You realised your mistake the second you made your move, because Jason sidestepped with you and successfully trapped you between the banister and himself.

“Leaving me by myself, babe?” He pouted his lips in what he thought was probably endearing, but it was starting to make your skin crawl.

How this guy was one of the most popular people in school, you didn’t know. He had spent the last two months asking you out when he had the chance and there were only so many polite ways you could say “fuck no” before you were starting to lose your patience.

Your eyes flitted over his shoulder, hoping to catch anyone’s eyes long enough to signal them for help. No one was looking, too into their own worlds to notice how Jason was trapping you like an animal that’d found its prey.

“You’re hardly alone, Jason.” You tried laughing it off, but the sound died in your throat when you felt something grazing your thigh.

Your eyes shot down to see his fingers fiddling with the hem of your dress, the tulle fabric concealing most of his movement but you felt dread shoot up your spine all the same. You didn’t expect your hand to automatically shove his imposing hand away, and judging by Jason’s face, neither did he. His mouth opened but your heart was pounding too loudly in your ears and the music was starting to hurt your head. It didn’t help that his face was right next to yours, breath smelling of booze and cigarettes. It had your stomach rolling dangerously. Maybe there would be some satisfaction to chucking up all over Jason Carver’s front, but you weren’t in the mood to be the talk of the school for the next two weeks.

“I need to go.” It was said with more stuttering than you would’ve liked but the whole place was starting to feel very claustrophobic. You didn’t know whether the walls were closing in for real or if you were just imagining it.

Before he had the chance to speak, you side stepped and made your way down the stairs as quickly as you could, your eyes locked on him in case he would try to do anything else to you behind your back.

“Hey, where are you going?” He didn’t sound too happy.

Your breath quickened when you saw him turn around and in your haste to escape, you managed to run right into something. Someone. Your hands came up to grip onto leather, shaky gasp evading your lips as an arm snuck around your waist to keep you from falling straight on your ass.

It took you a second to realise that you were face to face with a very naked, very sweaty and chiselled chest. Your eyes trailed up carefully, taking in the thick neck and stubbly chin surrounding a beautifully pink mouth. A mouth that was stretching into a smirk you were familiar with - It looked funny, the way he managed to keep the lit cigarette from falling from his mouth as he bared his teeth in that animalistic way.

There was no denying the slight surprise in Billy Hargrove’s face as his eyebrows raised on his forehead.

“Hello to you too.” The boy’s voice was teasing, voice smooth as if he’d been slathering honey all over it and you would’ve taken a moment to secretly appreciate it any other day. A day where you weren’t on the verge of a suffocating panic attack.

You didn’t have time to speak before Jason’s grating voice cut through the booming music.

“C’mon, don’t be so uptight. I’ll loosen you up.”

Billy’s eyes cut to the boy over your shoulder as he rounded the corner, eyes squinting and you could almost see the gears turning in his head as he assessed the situation he had - quite literally - ran into. You watched as his gaze flickered back to yours and it didn’t take much of a genius to understand what was happening. Your frown, the shaking lips and pleading eyes were enough of a giveaway. His arm that was still wrapped around you gently pushed you to the side before he took a good look at the jock in front of him.

If your knees weren’t shaking as badly as your hands and your thoughts were running a mile a minute, you would’ve laughed at the difference in both boys. They were the same height almost, but the way Billy carried himself made him look infinitely more scarier than Jason.

“You never give up, do you, blondie?” Billy spoke, voice muffled from the cigarette still shoved between his lips, but scary all the same.

Jason pulled his shoulders back in defence.

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean, freak?”

People were starting to look your way, way more interested in the impending fight happening in front of them. Some people were looking at you, and it made you want to shrink. You hated the attention and had half a mind to turn around and run.

“You know exactly what it means,” Billy grabbed his cigarette that had turned into a bud from his mouth, puffing out the smoke in the blond’s face.

It looked like they were gearing up for a fight. In your desperation to stop it from happening, you found yourself grabbing Billy’s arm with a small tug. It was soft, but enough for the blue eyed boy to glance back at you.

“Please, just leave it.”

Your relationship with Billy was complicated; You weren’t exactly friends but you didn’t hate each other either. Ever since he transferred schools, he’d been in your radar one way or the other. You’d catch him behind the school with a doobie, walking in the halls where he’d throw a flirty and quite frankly, cheesy pickup line that had you rolling your eyes. Sometimes you’d let him copy your answers from a test if you were in a good mood, and he’d let you swim an extra hours after closing time by the pools. It became almost impossible to steer clear of him once Max was thrown into your odd group of friends, and you’d run into him so often that Billy started teasing you about stalking him.

It was a ridiculous accusation, of course. But it amused Billy to no end either way.

During all your interactions and random bump ins, he’d never seen you look so uncomfortable and scared as right now. Your hands were clutching his leather jacket, and although he had every intention of beating Jason fucking Carver into a pulp, it wouldn’t make that scared expression on your face disappear.

So, he gave you a small nod that he hoped looked reassuring before facing Jason who looked pissed. Whatever the latter boy had seen pass between your brief eye contact, was enough to grind his gears. It was evident in the way his jaw clenched and mouth pursed.

You watched as Billy leaned close to his ear to say something. It almost looked like Jason was about to push him off before his face turned sickeningly pale. They had a slight staring contest before the jock turned on his heel and walked off. Billy watched him until he’d disappeared completely, before turning around to face you.

“You okay?” He asked, and there was no mistaking the tension in his voice.

The boy was pissed. But he seemed to hold it together pretty well for the sake of not causing a scene.

“Can we get out of here?” You asked.

Nausea was making your stomach roll, and you weren’t in the mood to stick around for any longer than necessary.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Billy’s Chevrolet Camaro smelled exactly like he did. It was weird, but he always managed to smell like cheap cologne, smoke - whether it’s from a joint or a cigarette - and musk. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell, but you found your mind wandering to places they shouldn’t be.

If you had a nickel for every time you’d found yourself in Billy Hargrove’s car, you’d have exactly one nickel. It had been late in the winter when your piece of shit pick-up truck had broken down in the middle of nowhere and Billy had just so happened to drive past. Looking back on it, that had been the start of your odd friendship.

A Metallica song was blearing when the boy next to you turned the key to the ignition, and he was quick to reach forward to turn the music down with an annoyed grunt before peeling out of the curb and onto the road. You sat in silence, hands in your lap as you glanced out the window before tilting your head to his direction.

The silence wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, but you were still feeling a little shaken up and exposed in your dress; All you were yearning for, was the burning stream of your shower.

Billy didn’t seem like he was in the mood to talk, his eyes looked faraway and that was your only indication that his mind was straying. You watched as his eyebrows jumped, like he’d come across an unpleasant thought, and he seemed to grow more agitated when he sighed heavily and rolled down a window in harsh jerks.

The smell of the cigarette he lit up between his teeth made you feel a little queasy, but you didn’t utter a word. It was clear that he needed some kind of stress relief and you figured that you’d let him have that after saving you from Jason the creep. Besides, you were used to Eddie’s chain smoking and Steve sneaking in a cigarette here and there.

“You okay?” His question caught you off guard, and you realised that you’d been staring a little too hard at his side profile.

You averted your eyes with a light sigh, taking in the dark road and the passing, yellowing trees blurring as Billy drove you home.

“Yeah.” You replied. “Are you?”

His response came in the form of a shrug.

You wrung your hands as you considered your next question. It had been nagging you ever since you left the party and seeing as the meek conversation was dying down, you figured now was a good time to come out with it.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” You tilted your legs to point at Billy as you turned to face him in your seat.

You watched as his hair by the neck ruffled as the wind blew through the windscreen. It was hard not to stare at him, the slope of his nose, his sharp jawline and his pink, plushy lips. The boy was gorgeous.

It was like he’d read your mind, because he tilted his head to look at you, lips pulled into his little signature smirk and you didn’t even pretend to act as if you weren’t looking at him.

“You just did.” He said and you gave him a dry look until he relented. “Fine, what?”

“So, back at the party…” you trailed off until he hummed in acknowledgement. “What did you whisper to him? Jason, I mean.”

Billy’s eyes were on the road ahead and you could only see his side profile, but there was no mistaking the clench in his jaw and his hands tightening around the steering wheel. You briefly wondered if you should’ve left it alone, but you were too curious to let it go.

“I’m just asking because he seemed to back off pretty quickly after that,” you continued when the air grew thick with silence. “Dude practically created a Jason shaped hole in the door with how fast he ran off.”

That earned you a slight twitch of his lips and you would’ve missed it if you hadn’t been staring so intently at his face.

“Nothing you should concern yourself with, dimples.”

You grimaced, and you weren’t sure if it was because of his vague answer or the nickname he’d one day just randomly decided to call you a year ago. It used to make you roll your eyes and fake gag, but now there was a small flutter in your stomach and you weren’t sure what to make of it.

“Why not? The guy had his hands up my dress, I think I have the right to know.” There was a slight shake to your otherwise determined voice.

Billy must’ve caught it because he gave you a quick glance, gaze shooting down to your exposed thighs before he looked away. He cleared his throat and flicked the indicator to make a turn into your street.

“Maybe you should invest in pepper spray.” He said.

It didn’t take a genius to see how he was clearly avoiding answering you.

“Billy.” You said in your best no-bullshit voice.

The boy in question hung his head for a few moments, the ringlets of his bangs following the movement. He blew out a breath that sounded a lot of frustration and sucked his teeth.

“Fuck, fine.” His eyebrows pulled together before he relaxed his face and finally answered. “The douchebag got caught with his hands up Paisley Newman’s skirt behind the bleachers while she was telling him to stop.”

You sat back in your seat, mouth slack. Billy flicked his barely touched cigarette out the window.

“Paisley the cheerleader?”

Billy grunted but gave no further information. You knew Jason was an asshole, he’d be insistent and hardly take no for an answer but you didn’t imagine he’d dare lay hands on someone without their consent. You grimaced. Well, at least that’s what you thought before tonight.

Paisley Newman was also one of the nicer cheerleaders in the squad and that’s where most of her popularity derived from. She loved what she did, which was why it came as a shock to most students in school when she’d one day quit out of nowhere. It hadn’t made sense back then, but it all became a little clearer now.

Jason must’ve been her final straw. The cheerleaders shared the auditorium with the jocks. Seeing someone who’d sexually assaulted you every day must’ve been awful.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you hadn’t realised that Billy had parked in your driveway, ignition shut off. It was quiet without the loud rumbling of the motor, and suddenly you realised that you didn’t want to be alone.

You briefly considered walking back to Nancy before remembering that she’d stay at Jonathan’s tonight. Steve was still at the party and Robin lived too far away to walk or bike.

“Do you wanna stay?” Your mouth asked before your mind could catch up, meeting Billy’s disbelieving eyes as he turned to squint at you in the darkness of his car.

He clearly wasn’t expecting that, and neither were you.

“What?”

You’d assumed he would say yes and suddenly repeating the question felt ten times more embarrassing and terrifying all at the same time.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I don’t -“ you cut yourself off when Billy’s eyebrows climbed higher in amusement.

“You askin’ me to spend the night, sweetheart?” His voice had a teasing lilt to it.

You hated how it made your stomach clench up.

“No.” You glared at him, but his smirk stayed as he regarded you silently. “Just for a movie or something. I kinda don’t wanna be alone.”

Billy’s hands fell from the steering wheel as he craned his neck to peek out the windshield. The neighbourhood was quiet, void of trick-or-treating children considering it was way past their bedtime. His eyes flitted to your house, taking in the dark windows and looming stature.

“My parents are out of town.” You replied before he could ask.

He looked at you before nodding once, reaching to pull the key out of the lock cylinder. You hurried to scramble out of the car, shivering when the cold air hit you full force. The slams of the car doors echoed and you didn’t wait for him to reach your side of the car before you started walking up to your front door.

The scuffle of Billy’s shoes let you know that he was following you, and you hurried to unlock the door and step inside.

It was silent between the two of you, and you tried not to let the awkwardness show on your face as the both of you kicked your shoes off.

“Do you want anything to drink?” You asked when you passed the kitchen.

“You don’t need to get me drunk to fuck me, dimples.”

You rolled your eyes in hopes that he wouldn’t see your flustered expression, walking into the kitchen to retrieve two bottles of water before you started ascending the stairs.

The both of you entered your room, silence thick between you as you set the water bottles down on your bedside table before reaching over to click the bedside lamp on.

It was clear to the boy that you were nervous. He could see it in your restless movements and your shifty eyes. It wasn’t unusual of him to fluster you but you’d always come back with a biting response that had his stomach clench up with want. He’d had plenty of girls who acted the way you did, puttering around your room to have something to do, anything to avoid looking at him. He would usually put his charm on and literally seduce their pants off, but this was you. He felt a little lost on what to do or how to act.

Billy took to looking around the room in silence, taking in your sage wallpaper and the photos and posters pinned to it. He eyed your vanity cluttered with makeup and other crap, before he settled on your bed. The room looked exactly like he’d imagined it.

“So.” He sucked his teeth, and you tried not to think of how attractive he looked.

“I’m just gonna have a quick shower, need to get the smell of booze off of me. And the fake blood.” You grimaced at your arm. “Do you mind waiting?”

He smirked then, the prospect of seeing you showered and void of any cosmetic crap on your face secretly thrilled him. He couldn’t say that he minded your Madonna costume though. You looked like an angel wrapped up in sin.

“Go ahead, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes at the name, but there was a slight tug to your lips and Billy counted that as a win. He watched you turn around to grab a pair of shorts and a t-shirt before pausing at a drawer. His interest piqued when you cautiously glanced over your shoulder, blushing when you caught him staring. You sighed and opened a smaller drawer before plucking out a pair of panties that you hid behind the shirt in your hands.

Billy grinned. Blue cotton. Of course.

“Make yourself comfortable.” you said to break the silence and then paused when you saw him raising his eyebrows.

You narrowed your eyes in thought before turning around to your drawers. If only to evade his piercing eyes.

You knew rifling through your drawers was futile; There was nothing there that was fitting enough for Billy to wear, and standing with your back to him made you a little nervous. You could feel him observing you as he sat perched on your bed, so you made a noise in your throat and moved on to the next drawer.

It was almost like universe was on your side for the first time tonight, because staring right back at you were Steve’s shorts he’d forgotten on one of your many group sleepovers. You picked it up and sent a small apology to your friend as you turned around. Steve would cry if he knew who was wearing his clothes.

At some point, somehow, Billy had shed his jacket and was sitting in his jeans, bare torso on display. You’d seen it a hundred times before; gym class, at the local pool, outside Max’s house as he tinkered with his Camaro when you picked her up. The boy loved going topless any chance he got. But the sight still made you falter.

“Here,” you threw the shorts over to him, watching him catch it in silence. “Those are Steve’s, but you can borrow them for tonight.”

Billy’s lips stretched into a slow smile and the sight almost made your knees knock together.

“Have a thing with, Harrington?” He waved the material in his hands.

You couldn’t resist your grimace, arms folding against your chest.

“What? That’s gross. Steve’s just a friend.”

Billy grunted.

“Can’t blame a guy for askin’,” his voice was low. “Wouldn’t wanna step on his toes.”

That made you let out a surprised laugh; it sounded too loud in the quiet room but you couldn’t help it.

“Oh please, you’d walk all over Steve if you could.”

Billy narrowed his eyes, but he couldn’t take much offence when you were finally looking like you’d loosened up a bit. The tension was still in your shoulders, but your face was smiling.

“Are you gonna shower?” He asked in annoyance.

You smiled.

“I’m going.” You turned around and started to walk towards the joined bathroom.

Billy let his eyes slide down your legs, taking in the smooth expanse of them as they moved. Fuck. He’d fantasised so much about having them wrapped around him. It was sick how much they affected him but how could they not? You loved your shorts in the spring and your flowy skirts in the summer.

He didn’t realise that you’d turned around, his eyes shooting up with a guilty expression on his face to find you staring at him with raised eyebrows. You didn’t look particularly mad, just smug. Your heart was doing somersaults, though.

“Try not to do anything stupid until I get back.” You said, voice slow like honey and Billy smiled in amusement when you glanced pointedly at your underwear drawer.

He hadn’t planned to snoop. He hadn’t, really. But you’d put the thought in his head and now it was hard to think of anything else. You left him to battle with his own mind, closing the door behind you to grab a quick shower and scrub the night off your skin.

When you’d stepped out and dried yourself enough to struggle into your clean clothes, your stomach was twisting into knots. The thought of Billy Hargrove sitting in your room on the other side of the door was odd. You never thought he’d be even close to your house, but you somehow - behind your jitters - felt safe. He could be an asshole, a player, whatever Hawkins residents had labelled him. But he had been nothing but gentle and protective over you tonight, when it mattered the most. No one had batted an eye when douchebag Carver had cornered you, but Billy had been two seconds away from beating the crap out of Jason and that counted for something.

Billy was lying on your bed when you stepped into your bedroom, in Steve’s shorts and a bare chest with his hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling with a contemplative tilt of his lips. He sat up slowly when he heard the door open and the both of you locked eyes.

“You hungry?” You asked, draping your wet towel over your desk chair.

Billy’s eyes never left yours as you walked around in the room, and he shook his head lightly. He wasn’t even sure what you had just asked him, too busy staring at your wet hair dripping down your cotton shirt and your bare face on display. It was clear that you were a little nervous, or maybe just feeling out of place so Billy averted his eyes and swung his legs up on your bed to sit with his back to the headboard.

“So what are we watching?”

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to go ahead and watch those horror flicks that Robin had picked up from work. You were beginning to regret this horror movie. It was interesting, but it had you feeling on edge as you sat with your legs hidden under the covers and hands covering your eyes, only thirty minutes in.

“For someone who was so insistent on watching this shit, you sure hide your face a lot.” Billy’s voice broke the tense silence.

You let your hands fall to your lap, a glare making its way to your face when you looked at him. He looked amused, arm behind his head and half sunken in your bed. The epitome of comfortable. The difference between your straight and tense back versus his placid form was laughable.

“It’s scary, okay?” you couldn’t help but giggle at the situation though. “This is all Robin’s fault.”

Billy huffed out a laugh, glancing at the screen.

“She’s got a weird taste in movies.” he muttered.

You tried to imagine him saying that to Robin’s face, and it made you grin when you turned back to watch the movie. Almost immediately, as if to taunt you, there was a jump scare that had you gasping and your hands shoot up in front of your face.

“Shit!” You swore quietly, separating your fingers slightly to peek through at the television screen.

The blood, gore and screams made you wince and your stomach roll. Maybe you should’ve gone with a milder movie that didn’t require you to watch it through your fingers or behind a throw pillow.

Billy was having the time of his life though. He had spent the past hour watching your face for reactions, the bend in your eyebrows and the sparkle in your eye as the light from the screen reflected in your eyes. It was dark, but he was mesmerised by your facial expressions and gasps. He didn’t know if you were aware of your little hums you made every time there was something particularly interesting happening in the movie. If you’d turned around right now and asked him to name one thing happening in the movie, he’d give you absolutely no correct answer.

He grew bored quickly though, abandoning the movie completely in lieu of watching you instead. His eyes started wandering from your face, taking in the curve of your chest and he almost squirmed when he realised you weren’t wearing a bra. Your t-shirt was a size too big, but you’d hooked an arm right beneath your breasts and he could see your nipples poking through the thin material.

Your jumping almost made him jump, and he couldn’t help but grin at your silent curse words that were tumbling out of your mouth in distress. He didn’t even think twice about it before reaching an arm out, breaking the barrier between you two.

You glanced down at his hand he’d clasped around your arm, eyebrows rising in question when you met his eyes in the darkness. He tugged and you tried to ignore the similar tug in the pit of your stomach when he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth.

“C’mere,” he grunted and you followed him without question.

You situated yourself in the middle of your bed, breath stuttering when he draped an arm around you to pull you into his naked chest. He was warm, way warmer than you expected, and you tried to calm your racing heart when you made yourself comfortable in his arms.

“Good?” He whispered, a slight rasp in his voice.

You hummed your assent, tucking a hand under your head where it rested on his pec.

It was hard to concentrate on the movie beyond that point, the gentle pulse of his heart under your hand was distracting you to the point where you started squirming. It didn’t take long for the boy under you to notice, grunting when you accidentally elbowed him in the side.

“Sorry.” You whispered, embarrassed.

He didn’t say anything, but his fingers found your chin to lift it up so you could look at each other. You hadn’t really let yourself think of how fucking intense his eyes were before, but it was hard to keep that thought away when they were boring into yours and clearly memorising every bump and scar on your face. You squirmed, shyly this time, and Billy tightened his grip on your chin; Thumb digging into your skin.

”What?” His voice carried over the sound of the movie.

A movie you’d once been immersed in but now acted as background noise. You frowned at the teasing smile pulling at the corners of his lips, trying your best not to let your gaze drop to the movement. You didn’t know if it was his sweltering skin, or your temperature rising above average, but you were starting to feel warm.

You didn’t know why you did what you did next or where your courage came from, but you found yourself pushing yourself up to peck his lower lip. It looked inviting, and the small graze of your lips against his was soft. His eyebrows rose comically, as if he hadn’t expected you to do that.

“Sorr-“ the apology died on your tongue, sharp gasp taking its place when he leaned down to kiss you, lips more insistent than previously.

You lost yourself in his taste, the slow slide of his tongue as he smoothly pushed you down on your back so he could crowd your space. He tasted of cigarettes and minty chewing gum you always saw him smacking on, an intoxicating mixture that had you opening your mouth wider so he could kiss you deeper. You felt it in your toes, thighs struggling to close but his body was in the way and he clearly liked the way your thighs felt around his hips.

“Fuck, dimples.” He groaned against your mouth, sliding his lips across to your jaw to suck at the sensitive skin there.

You felt your eyes roll at the sensation, raising your hips up so you could grind your centre against his. He responded with a growl, one hand sliding into your hair to grip it tightly.

“Why do you call me that?” You asked, curiosity finally getting the best of you at the worst of times.

Billy loved on your lower lip, teeth sharp and tongue wet as he mumbled out an absent what? in response. He was relentless in his exploring, sucking a filthy path from your lips, jaw down to your throat.

“Always calling me- oh,” your breath hitched when he found your sweet spot right underneath your ear. “Callin’ me dimples. I don’t even have them.”

That had him pulling away, and the downright dirty smile on his face made your stomach twist. He looked sinful, and you found yourself yearning for more.

“Sure you do.” he grinned, planting his arm on one side of you to keep his weight up as to not drop on you.

You gave him a confused stare, hand coming up to play at his messy locks at the nape of his neck.

“Two weeks after I moved here,” he began, his free hand grazing your tummy where your t-shirt had ridden up. “you were standing by the lockers, and you had this fucking top on you. Looked like an angel.”

He trailed off with a smile, his eyes glazing over a bit when he followed the path of his wandering hand, recalling the memory; Reliving it.

“It rode up your back several times in class and I could tell it annoyed the shit out of you,” he suddenly glanced up, locking eyes. He smirked, pulling his hand away from under your shirt to touch your forehead, right between your eyebrows. “could tell because you get this wrinkle right here when something’s bothering you.”

You groaned in mock embarrassment, but it was disguised wonder because you hadn’t realised just how observant Billy was. It was like you were seeing him in a different light.

His hand returned to its former place, resting on the side of your torso as he narrowed his eyes in thought.

“You dropped your notebook in the hallway that day and you bent down, shirt riding up…” he murmured, trailing off to instead slide his hand around your torso and sinking his fingers into your tailbone. “You have two dimples on your back here, baby. Sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my fucking life.”

Your chest caved in time with your deep breaths, eyes staring up at him in silence because what the hell were you supposed to say to that? You were turned on beyond belief, and you were sure your eyes were begging him to touch you, fuck you, anything to get rid of this aching need. You would’ve been embarrassed of looking so needy in front of Billy Hargrove, but the moment was so intimate and the amount of detail the boy was paying attention to you made you flush all over. You needed him.

“Had me so hard, I had to sit in my car like a fucking creep and jerk myself off.” He grinned at the memory, looking at you with more heat than you could handle.

The thought of it, although hot, made you giggle. There was something very powerful knowing that you had that effect on him. The known player at school, who’d essentially flirt and fuck anyone with tits and a heartbeat, crumbling just because of back dimples. There was a part of you that was scared of being another notch in his bedpost, but looking at him now, you couldn’t bring yourself to care one bit.

You pulled at his hair slightly to have him lean down, lips seeking out his desperately and he went willingly with a deep groan in his throat. It was clear that he was losing control, arm pulling you flush against his body as he ground himself against you. The feel of his hardness against your pussy made you whimper, teeth biting into his lip a little too harshly. He didn’t mind though, if his moan was anything to go by.

“Fuck me, Billy.” You whispered, feeling your cheeks warm up at the sheer desperation in your voice.

He cursed under his breath, caging your body between his knees as he kissed down your throat; Hands grabbing everything he could reach, like he didn’t know where to start.

You watched him as you caught your breath, the way he pushed your t-shirt up with his ringed hands to kiss your exposed stomach. You had to remind yourself to keep breathing when he snuck his hands under your shirt to grab at your tits. The gasp you let out had him moaning in response as he laved at the skin beneath your bellybutton.

“Smell so good, baby.” He rasped, pressing his nose against your skin and you giggled when he opened his mouth to bite at your flesh. “Gonna fuck you so good.”

One hand let go of your breast to pull at your shorts, your panties following along with them, making a home on your floor and your breath stuttered when the cold air hit your very slick center. Billy tutted loudly, disapprovingly and shoved your thighs apart.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He glared up at you, heat in his eyes as he shuffled down the bed to lick and bite at your thighs.

“Billy, please.” You whispered.

Your hands sought out his tousled hair, fingers digging into his temple when his mouth finally, finally found your core. You yelled out when he went directly for your clit, mouth sucking on it just to get a reaction out of you. His eyes sparkled as he glanced up at you, looking ten different shades of sinful when he widened his tongue theatrically and dragged it from your hole to your clit.

The shudder that went through you seemed to please Billy and he tilted his head to feast on you as you moaned out loud into your room. It was downright filthy, the way he ate your pussy out like a man depraved. The sounds made you turn your head in slight embarrassment, cheek burying into your pillow and eyes clenching shut when he added his fingers into the mix.

They were thick, and he couldn’t get them all the way in thanks to his rings adorning the base of them. But he made up for it easily by crooking and scissoring them as his tongue laved on your bud.

Billy was losing his mind, the shuddering sounds you were making had his hips grinding into your mattress. You looked beautiful with his name on your tongue, voice whiny that quickly turned garbled when he upped the speed of his lapping tongue.

He knew you were on the verge of coming, thighs closing in on his head and hips lifting off the mattress to chase his aching mouth. His jaw was locking, tongue exhausted, chin fucking drenched in your slick but he was determined to make you come before he buried his dick inside of you.

Billy Hargrove wasn’t a relationship kind of guy, he ran at the first sight of attachment from his partners. He loved having sex though, the chase of it all thrilled him to no end and nothing satisfied him more than making a girl come. But that’s where it usually ended for him, he’d get his orgasm and be on his way.

He’d never been so enraptured before, so fucking turned on that he was humping a mattress like he was just entering puberty. The sounds you were making would’ve made him a little worried of your neighbours hearing, but they were like music to his ears so he couldn’t bring himself to care. And his eyes didn’t stray from your face as your back bowed and you screamed into the void, pussy clenching around his fingers and body spasming.

“Yeah, baby. Come for me, fucking squeeze my fingers.” His words were garbled, but your frantic nodding indicated that you’d heard him.

He couldn’t get enough of your taste, tongue digging into the space between his fingers buried inside of you. He was careful to not touch your clit as you came down from your high, but he couldn’t resist a nudge or two with his tongue. Only to watch you squirm and hear your breathing hitch.

You laid there for a long time, chest heaving and eyes locked on your roof unseeing. It felt like you came your brains out, thoughts scattered all over the room and you had no desire to put them all together again.

Billy kisses up your body and you smile when you lock eyes, his own lips pulling into a smug smirk. His chin is glistening with your slick and you weakly reach one hand up to wipe at it, as if to get rid of the evidence.

“You make the prettiest sounds when you come,” Billy says, turning his head into your touch.

You narrow your eyes at him, albeit a little tiredly. Your limbs still feel like jelly and you’re not sure how you’re supposed to function. But you feel like giving back, especially when Billy was so generous and the poking of his hardness against your thigh makes you feel hot all over again.

With a bite of your lip, you reach a hand down and pull him out of his shorts with a soft tug. He’s hard and warm in your hand, heavy and thick in a way that has you writhing beneath him. There are these small noises coming from Billy’s mouth as you collect his precum on your hand, forming a circle around his head and stroking down to the base.

You gaze up at Billy and find that his eyes have fluttered shut at your touch as he thrusts into your grip. His arms that are holding him up tremble, and a hiss escapes him.

“We don’t have to go further if you don’t want to.” He says, breathless. He opens his eyes to look at you, and he almost looks like a deity where he’s hovering over you.

The light from the television behind him was illuminating his form, creating a halo and making him look like an angel. You tilt your head.

“You saying you don’t want this?” You tightened your grip lightly around his cock and he hissed, eyebrows furrowing beneath the strands of his unruly bangs.

He lets his weight drop on you, face seeking out the juncture between your neck and shoulder to kiss at the skin. You let go of him to grab at his broad shoulders, nails digging into his flesh as he sucks bruises in your neck. You vaguely wondered how you were supposed to cover the hickeys up, but that concern is out the window when you feel the thickness of his cock brushing against your still slick and sensitive pussy.

“Condom,” you whisper, breathless. “In the drawer.”

He makes quick work of leaning over to yank the drawer open, searching blindly for a foil packet before ripping it open with his teeth. You slide your hand down to touch your clit, only to take the edge off while he rolls the condom on and returns to his previous position of hovering over you.

You reach to guide him into you, gasping quietly as you felt the thickness of his head breach your hole. It stretched, stung for a moment but you forced yourself to relax and focus on his low murmuring against your ear.

It took a few seconds to realise that he was whispering small encouragements, a string of “So tight baby, you’re doing so good for me. Feels amazing, fuck.”. It made you momentarily squeeze him, drawing a shudder from him.

“Yeah?” His breath was warm against your cheek as he nosed the skin there. You turned your head for a kiss, mewling pathetically as he bottomed out slowly against you.

His arms, that were caging you in, trembled and you watched him drop his head as if to collect himself.

“You good?” He asks, voice strained.

“Yeah please, please just fuck me, Billy.”

He doesn’t need any more affirmation than that, sliding out slowly before thrusting back in. It has your eyes shutting tightly and your mouth drop open in an obscene moan. He bites and nips at your jawline, setting a pace of steady, thrusting hips.

The slide of him inside you sets your nerve endings alight, goosebumps raising your skin as he gets up on his knees; Wobbly, eagerly. He eyes you up as he slows his thrusts and your body heats up at the look he gives you.

It’s dark, the movie is still playing in the background and providing little to no light to the room but you’re grateful for it right now as his gaze eats you up. He frowns then, halting his movements and you open your mouth to question him when he grabs your t-shirt and signals for you to raise yourself so it slipped off.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he sounds breathless, hands grabbing your tits in handfuls and thumbs swiping over your perked nipples in a practiced movement. “been waiting to see these for a long time.”

You whimper when he starts fucking you with more force, driving into you in a spot that has your head spinning. “Billy—“

“I know, baby, I know.”

The moan you let out is obscene and the boy falters at the sound of it, hunching over you and pressing his nose against your cheek. He’s groaning in your ear, and you start clenching around his thick cock as you feel your orgasm approach; Slowly, toes tingling and your blood roaring in your ears.

“Mm touch me…” you sound pleading to your own ears, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

Especially when Billy doubles down, fucks you harder into the mattress and brings a shaking hand down between the two of you to work on your clit. It doesn’t take much, a few rubs and filthy words panted into your ear and you’re flying off the edge with a scream. You didn’t think you could make a sound as loud as that, but you can’t stop it as you buck your hips and arch your back. Billy’s groans sound like music in your ears when you dig your nails into the small of his back.

It feels like you’ve blacked out, vision spotty and body jerked higher up on the bed as he fucks into you with animalistic grunts. He pulses inside of you, comes with a force that has him trembling in your arms and you hold him close to you in hopes of bringing him some comfort and to calm him down enough to stop the aftershocks.

There’s a distant scream from somewhere and your heart jumps before you register that the movie is still playing in the background. Billy laughs breathlessly at the sudden tension in your body, shifting in your hold to relieve some of the weight off of you. He still doesn’t remove his face from the nook of your neck, and you feel his face change shape as he smiles.

There’s a joke to be made about you getting your brains fucked while the poor girl in the movie is getting hers carved out, but you’re too lazy to voice it out loud.

What you do end up doing is sliding your fingers into Billy’s sweat damp hair, pressing your face to his temple and closing your eyes as your breathing regulates again. He smells like smoke and booze, but there’s a hint of cologne and Billy in there that’s weirdly comforting.

Your legs are starting to hurt so you unclench them from around Billy’s body and lower them gently onto the mattress. A hiss escapes you both as he gently pulls himself out, but he doesn’t move to get rid of the condom or even clean up and it has you giggling as you tilt his head up with the help of your fingers in his hair.

He looks fucked out, lips swollen and eyes dazed and it’s so obscene that you tense your thighs around his form.

“Don’t,” he sounds breathless. “I need a minute to recharge.”

You laugh at that, head thrown back on the pillow and Billy grins lazily at the sound. He slides a hand up from your stomach, over your tits before it makes a home around your bared throat in a gentle grip. It’s a random gesture, but it makes your stomach swoop.

“We’re not going again, I’m too tired.” You whisper, eyes tracking him as he shuffles up a little so you’re face to face.

He doesn’t let go of your throat as he kisses you, licking your bottom lip with a soft groan. It tastes a lot like a promise, but you’re careful to get your hopes up. Because even after all this, you’re still not sure of his intentions. If he decided to up and leave you, you would’ve been okay with it. Your ego would’ve been bruised, heart a little sore and you’d probably not show your face for a few weeks, but you were prepared for either outcome.

“D’you wanna stay the night?” You ask, voice small in the space between your lips. Billy locks eyes with you and you struggle not to go cross eyed as you lean your head back to see him more clearly.

It makes him smile, “Thought you’d never ask.”

Your fingers reach up to his lips, touching the side of his smirk and the prickle of his moustache. “I like this.” You tap his lips, seeing his brow twitch in confusion.

“Like what?”

“Your smile. It’s nice.” You say.

Billy smiles in response and it makes your heart flutter dangerously. You ignore the feeling, feeling a small rise of panic at the unusual intimacy between the two of you. There’s a meagre shift in the air as you come to the realisation that there might be something more going on between you than the usual bickering and playful glares.

There’s not much said as you decide to clean up and recuperate, shutting off the television and pulling your clothes on after your respective trips to the bathroom.

The silence is a little stifling as you lay in the dark next to each other, no other sound than your breathing. That’s why it makes you startle with a gasp when he reaches a hand out and pulls you into him.

“I can hear you thinking from over here.” He murmurs.

You can’t see his face in the dark, but he sounds amused. “I’m just… confused.” You cringe at the vulnerability, as if the boy under you would laugh at your confession.

Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t. He just grunts as he runs his fingers down your arm, watching your flesh goose pimple.

“Don’t be.” He said, as if it was that simple.

You wondered if it really was as simple as that. But you were curious by nature and you didn’t want to be another girl on his list of people he’d fucked. “It’s hard not to be. We just went from exchanging three words a week to… orgasms.”

Billy’s laughed rumbled in his rib cage and you allowed yourself to smile at the sound.

“I’m just wondering whether I’ll be seeing you with a new girl next week.” Your voice sounds meek, and you regret saying it as soon as the words were out your mouth.

Billy’s wandering fingers stop moving and you stare into the darkness of your room. You listen to his breathing. It’s unnerving, but it’s clear that he’s contemplating his response.

“You won’t.” He settles on at last, voice laced with finality.

“Okay.”

Billy pinches your chin with his fingers and lifts your head up. It’s hard to see him fully, but you can make out the lines of his face thanks to the brightly lit street from outside your window.

He searches your eyes for a moment before leaning in to kiss you. It’s not much in terms of words, but it reassures you enough for tonight.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The sound of a car door slamming from down the street roused you awake. You blinked your eyes open, wincing at the brightness of the room and turning your head to face the other way from the window. The sight of Billy’s sleeping face almost made you jump, heart speeding up as last night came back to you.

It was then that you felt it. Your lips felt dry, cracked from sleep combined with the over excessive kissing last night. And— God, the soreness between your legs was something you hadn’t felt in ages. You felt strangely relaxed though, limbs languid and comfortable.

Billy was sleeping soundly on his stomach, little puffs of air escaping him as he breathed. It was the most relaxed you’d ever seen him, no wrinkle or tension on his face. He looked gorgeous in the morning light, lips pouted naturally and eyebrows slack. You couldn’t keep yourself from bringing a hand up to brush a lock of blond hair from his forehead, careful not to disturb his sleep.

It was a struggle to escape from the bed without making too much noise, but you managed to find your clothes and an additional sweater to pull on top of your shirt because fuck it was cold.

You caught a glimpse of the time - 9:52am - and winced, thinking that you could’ve stayed in bed for a little longer since it was a Saturday after all. You made a trip to the bathroom, freshened up moderately without being too loud and went on a hunt for a spare toothbrush that Billy could use when he decided to wake up.

It was cold in the house and there would usually be some kind of noise in the downstairs area at this time of the morning. Your mom would always play her radio too loud while she puttered around the kitchen and your dad would often talk an octave too loudly.

You walk into the kitchen, preparing coffee and seeking out bread to make cheese toast. The roiling in your stomach doesn’t settle as you think of Billy, about last night and of how it had taken a turn you didn’t expect. Was this only a one time thing? Did he even want breakfast? What if he didn’t like coffee and preferred tea?

A noise from behind you has you whirling around, and you spot Billy walking slowly into the kitchen; Eyes taking in the surroundings before they land on you. You watch his lips stretch into an easy smile and sigh a little in relief because what were you so worried about?

He was still in Steve’s shorts, hair unruly and in need of a shower. He still looked a little sleepy, eyes puffy and bleary eyed in a way that almost made your stomach clench with how adorable he looked. There was something about Billy in the morning that made him look more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him before.

“Smells good.” his voice is raspy from sleep, and he stretches a hand out to scratch at his stomach with a yawn. “Shit, it’s too early.”

“You could’ve stayed in bed.” You said, plating the two sandwiches and reaching for a mug to pour the hot coffee into it.

Billy grunted and you didn’t know what that meant. He didn’t give you time to think on it too hard, your mind going blank when he pressed his front to your back, hands sliding beneath your hoodie and shirt and chin hooking over your shoulder.

“Billy!” You squealed at the touch of his cold hands on your skin, skin rising in goosebumps when he chuckled against your ear.

“Sorry, baby. It’s just so fucking cold.” He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and you wriggled a little in his grasp when his hair tickled you.

“It’s okay,” you picked up his mug and did your best to turn around without spilling it all over the both of you. “I made you coffee. There’s creamer and sugar if you want that. I don’t know how you like your coffee…”

You trailed off awkwardly when you looked up and find him looking right back at you. His amused smile grew bigger and he grabbed the mug, taking a sip of it.

“Your rambling’s cute,” he murmured against the rim of the mug before taking another sip. You narrowed your eyes at him, tracking his movement as he reached around you to set his coffee down on the counter. “I like it black, as it is, by the way.”

He slid his arms around your waist to pull you into his embrace and you let him, humming happily when he slid one hand over the side of your neck.

There was a question in his eyes, you realised, and you nodded your consent before he went in for a kiss, allowing you to taste the mint of the toothpaste and coffee on his tongue. It was a lot chaster than you anticipated, but it had your breath stuttering all the same.

“Good morning.” He murmured against your lips.

“Hi.” You whispered back.

Billy let his fingers slide into your hair, the other hand pulling you in even closer by the waist. He searched your face, blue eyes surrounded by dark eyelashes that most certainly had all the boys and girls envious of them. “You feeling okay?”

The question caught you off guard for a moment before you realised what he was asking. He was concerned. It hadn’t registered your mind that he was searching your face for any clues of discomfort, and that warmed your heart as you put both of your hands flat against his pecs.

“I’m great,” you smiled before you paused. “Are you?”

“Always am.”

The both of you didn’t separate too far from each other, opting to stand close by as you nibbled on your cheese toasties. Billy wasn’t much of a chatter in the mornings, but you had a pleasant conversation as you finished up your breakfast.

You had your back turned to him as you placed the dishes in the sink, making a mental note of washing them later on, when Billy grabbed your hand and tugged when you turned your head.

“C’mere, let me love a little on you.” He said right before he leaned forward to kiss you.

You let yourself get immersed in the taste of mint and Billy, making small noises at the back of your throat when his tongue slid against yours. It wasn’t rough nor particularly passionate, just gentle and slow. The peaceful quiet of the morning was disturbed by a loud rumbling of a car engine outside, and you pulled back from Billy’s hold to look over your shoulder. You peered out of the window looking out onto your driveway and felt your stomach drop at the familiar car pulling in.

Billy could clearly sense your sudden tension, hands gripping your waist lightly, “What? What’s wrong?”

You didn’t respond, watching the doors open and the familiar mop of hair belonging to none other than Nancy come into view. Judging by the distant rambling, Robin was with her.

“Ah,” Billy laughed, prompting you to turn to him. “I’ll go get dressed and leave the mob to you.”

It wasn’t really a secret that Nancy disliked Billy, she’d always found him distrusting and full of himself and you couldn’t blame her. Robin and the rest of your friend group shared the same sentiment and you could only imagine what they’d say if they found out where you’d disappeared last night.

You gave the boy a slight smile, leaning into his kiss when he pulled you into it. It left you in a small daze when he drew back, making his departure from the kitchen and up the stairs. You jumped when the doorbell rang, smoothing your hair down subconsciously as you went to answer the door.

“Where the hell did you go?” Was what you were greeted with, Nancy’s voice shrill and tinged with worry.

“Nance, she’s fine. Don’t be so dramatic.” The other girl said, hand reaching for her shoulder before she drew it back at Nancy’s glare.

“Please, like you weren’t the one coming up with theories about how she was laying in a ditch somewhere.” Nancy gestured wildly with her hands, and you couldn’t stop the laugh from escaping you.

Robin winced as if she was recalling the memory, “Yeah, I’m never drinking tequila again.”

Your mouth dropped open at that, and you almost stomped your foot like a child at her reveal.

“You drank tequila? I missed it!” You said, a little sad because tequila-Robin was the funniest. You couldn’t count on two hands how many times you’d had one too many shots with her and ended up the next morning covered in mysterious bruises or cryptic clues about the night before.

“I mean, you did disappear,” Robin paused with a scrunch of her nose. “Speaking of, whose car is that?”

You felt heat spread over your cheeks as she gestured to the Camaro parked on the driveway, right next to where Nancy had parked her vehicle. They both looked at you, one with her eyebrows raised and the signature stubborn tilt of her mouth and the other with a curious wide eyed look.

Your mouth opened and closed, at a loss of how you were going to tell them the events of the night and morning without making either of them faint or go into hysterical mode.

“Well… it’s a funny story.” You laughed nervously, but you didn’t have time to say more as you realised that you’d completely lost their attention and they were now looking behind you.

Robin made a noise you couldn’t decipher and your mouth opened to question their behaviour when the unmistakable sounds of footsteps thundered down the stairs. God, even his footsteps sounded nonchalant.

“Ladies,” Billy’s voice sounded in the suddenly quiet space, and you turned your head only slightly before he appeared at your side in yesterdays clothes. Like magic. “Dimples.”

You looked at him, poking your tongue into your cheek to keep yourself from smiling at the absolute shiteating grin on his face. He knew what he was doing. Asshole.

“Um— I’ll follow you to your car,” you flicked your gaze to your friends. “you guys can wait inside, I’ll be right back.”

You pushed at Billy to get moving in front of you, and he complied with a smile. The girls waited until you were a little further from them before they started whispering aggressively, reluctantly retreating inside. You watched them over your shoulder with an amused smile, knowing they’d probably press their faces against the window to spy on you.

Billy huffed out a laugh, as if he’d heard your thoughts, and stuck his keys into the door to unlock his car. He left it unopened, opting to look at you instead.

“You’re an asshole.” You said, but your smile was too wide for it to have any real heat behind it.

Billy laughed, and that confirmed everything you needed to know. He wanted to show off to your friends and leave their mouths gaping open. Now you’d have to go in there and probably feed them every detail. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if they were already calling Eddie and Steve over. You just hoped the latter two were too hungover to answer their phones because you really couldn’t handle both Steve and Nancy at the same time.

“You can’t tell me you didn’t get a kick out of that,” Billy reached out to wrap an arm around your waist, he pulled you into his embrace and you went willingly. You watched his eyes, how they looked breathtakingly bright and blue in the morning sunlight, and the stubble on his face looked enticing. “Wheeler is losing her shit right now.”

“What?” You asked breathily, a little lost in his long lashes and stunning smirk.

He nodded inconspicuously toward the direction of where the window would be, and you made to turn your head but Billy’s tutting stopped you.

“Don’t look,” he murmured, voice dropping low. “Give me a kiss.”

Such a simple sentence. A command. And yet, your toes were curling and your chest was heaving a little deeper as you struggled to breathe. Billy was intoxicating, and you realised you weren’t sure if you were quite ready to let him go.

You stood up on your toes to reach his lips, hands sliding into his hair to grip it firmly as you pressed your lips together. The kiss turned deeper than you expected, his mouth opening yours wider to taste your tongue. A little whimper escaped your lips when he turned his head, nose digging into your cheek and hands sliding over your waist and around to your tailbone.

“Fuck,” Billy cursed as you pulled apart, resting his forehead on yours to catch his breath. “The things you do to me, sweetheart.”

It was cheesy, playful and it made you smile all the same. You pushed at his chest where he’d grabbed one of your hands to press against his naked chest and he stumbled with a teasing laugh.

“You goin’ soft on me already, Hargrove?” There was an unexpected softness to your voice that made Billy smile genuinely.

His smile still jarred you. Whereas before you’d see teasing smirks and dirty bites of his pink lips, you were now seeing a whole new smile. It reached his eyes, made them look brighter surrounded by endearing crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

“Never soft when you’re around, baby.” He said and you glared at him.

“Gross,” you said, as if he hadn’t buried himself inside your guts just hours ago. “now get going so the girls don’t explode.”

Billy rolled his eyes, casting a glance behind you to - presumably - stare at Robin and Nancy. He pinched your chin and pulled you into a quick kiss to your mouth before he turned to open the door.

“See you tonight then?” He asked, prompting a confused stare from you.

“Tonight?” your stomach flipped and it felt a lot like hope.

Billy produced a cigarette from the pocket of his leather jacket, sticking it between his teeth and patting the remaining pockets for a lighter. You’re nearly bouncing on your socked feet when he finally looks up at you, smiles around his cigarette at your wide eyes.

“There’s a new diner I wanna take you to,” he says. “we could get some food, maybe catch a movie.”

There was a moment where you thought he’d want to come over just for a quick fuck, but hearing him talk so casually about a date has your mind reeling. Surely it must mean that he wants something more than just sex, right?

You’re nervous to ask, but you have to know just for the sake of your own sanity. “You asking me on a date, Billy?”

He has never heard anything as sweet as your voice saying his name, and it should make him nervous over how fast his heart is beating. But he really can’t bring himself to care.

“That depends.” He answers cryptically.

You raise a brow, “On what?”

“On if you say yes.”

You’re not sure if you’re imagining the slight nervousness in his voice, but it endears you and excites you anyway. It’s with that in mind that you decide to make him sweat a little, giving him a crooked smile and turning around to make your way to your front door.

“Is that a yes, then?” You hear him call and you cast him a look over your shoulder without halting your pace.

“Pick me up at seven.” You reply, getting a quick glance of his smile before he turns and disappears into his car.

You force yourself to keep walking, not looking back once as you open your front door and step inside. Your heart is beating fast and you take a moment to catch your breath when the door’s closed. It doesn’t take long for Robin’s shrill voice to break the silence and you jump.

“Billy Hargrove?!”

Well, shit.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x fem reader #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut #stranger things fic

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umitsy · 2 months

Text

warnings: cursing, mentions of reader being abused by their partner, bruises, reader gets humiliated by their ex-partner, stalking, love obsession

reader's g/n

➻ Yandere rude florist! who only takes this job until his father who got sick recovers.

➻ Yandere rude florist! who'd deadass tell the costumers to fuck off if they even spend more than twenty seconds deciding what to buy.

➻ Yandere rude florist! whose mother hires you to help him to do not scare completely all the people his father's reputation gathered around the small city.

➻ Yandere rude florist! who'd now have to bear with old people telling both of you what a cute couple you make while you're blushing in embarrassment and brushing of their comments to charge them off.

➻ Yandere rude florist! who'd be absolutely straight forward with any story about a familiar being garbage to you when he asks about your day once you arrive to start with your shift.

➻ Yandere rude florist! whose suspicions of you being abused by your partner are confirmed one day you texted him you could not make it after some days of appearing slightly limping and long-sleeved shirts to cover bruises he saw when you put on your apron to work and maybe or not when he stalked you.

➻ Yandere rude florist! who couldn't bear seeing you being such a kind person along a piece of shit as your partner, so hed decide to have a little chat with them after you brought them one day to see your latest art works and they publicly and mindlessly humiliated you then and there.

➻ Yandere rude florist! who'd be innecesarly surprised when another day you come completely devastated saying your partner had gone missing last night.

➻ Yandere rude florist! who'd straight forward tell you they're better off, and it didn't really matter because you'll find someone billions of times better than them, like him.

➻ Yandere rude florist! who'd try to find a way to spend more time with you once his father goes back to work.

➹ "Wʜᴀᴛ ᴀᴍ I ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴏᴜsᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴀ.ᴍ.? Wʜᴀᴛ? Aʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ᴏғғɪᴄᴇʀ ɴᴏᴡ? I-I ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ʏᴀ' 'ᴋ? As ɪғ ᴡᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴄᴏ-ᴡᴏʀᴋᴇʀs ᴅᴀᴍɴ. Yᴇs, ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴊᴏʙ sᴏʟɪᴄɪᴛᴜᴅᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴏᴜsᴇ's ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. Sᴛᴏᴘ ᴀsᴋɪɴɢ sᴏ ᴍᴀɴʏ sᴛᴜᴘɪᴅ ϙᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴs ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ɪɴ!".

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bigdan2005 · 23 days

Text

Stayed away for a while here are the Francis Mosses headcanons

𒊹︎When it comes to delivering milk he face the weirdest costumers in town, like once he encountered a person who wanted milk to see if it can explode on its own and poor Francis thought this guy might be a doubleganger

𒊹︎HE. NEVER. GETS. SLEEP

𒊹︎He always try to get a day off but his boss doesn’t let him have any, so only the very late night is his time to try and sleep in it, even though sometimes he can’t

𒊹︎He’s best friends with Steven and Angus, they’re abit close to eachother ages and mostly both Steven and Angus try and help Francis as much as they can because they know how tired Francis can be from his job

𒊹︎He might seem he’s just a guy who wants a break from work and doesn’t care about anything, but he’s so into gossip, he’d sometimes ear drop on some of the other neighbors and then would talk about it with Steven and Angus, not in a bad way really, probably either for fun or to try and help the other neighbors, and for that he’s known to be such a sweet guy

𒊹︎As mentioned in the last point, he’s known as a sweet guy for the other neighbors, once Arnold fell sick and he’s wife Gloria had to take care of him and took a couple of days off, Francis ended up getting them groceries on his way back from work to make sure they have everything in need since Gloria couldn’t leave home

𒊹︎surprisingly for a tired overworking person like Francis, his apartment is always clean, he’s a very clean guy that prefers to stay in a dessert then in a messy party or something

𒊹︎He hates, and I mean HATES when Steven and Angus tease him about not dating, he’s more of a loner, yes, but he didn’t really asked for it, it just he didn’t find someone who can keep up with his uncontrollable coldness, or him arriving late from work, or falling asleep accidentally anywhere

𒊹��And as I said, he falls asleep anywhere, literally anywhere, he once fell asleep while driving with Angus they almost crashed, so Angus let him sit in the passenger seat and sleep while he drove back to their apartments

#thats not my neighbor #milkman #francis mosses #tnmn

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celiastjamesoscar · 8 months

Text

Would That I

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: You accidentally ran into someone at a frat party, and she quickly became your best friend. But you fell for her sister, who wouldn’t even give you the time of the day (this is a shitty description)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of weed, alcohol consumption, small joke of role playing sex, jokes about getting salmonella and dying, slight angst. Let me know if I missed any!

My Masterlist

AN: Came from this request here!

Word Count: 6.8K

You could smell the alcohol and weed in the air before approaching the house. It was Halloween night, and you were going to a frat party with your friends, even though you had zero intention of staying longer than ten minutes. You were just here to ‘shake babies and kiss hands,’ as your friend Miles would say.

He was the one hosting this frat party, so of course, you had to show your support for your friend, even though you hated parties and drinking. He was one of the biggest recruiters for his frat house and very well known across the campus for his promiscuous activities, but he wasn’t your typical frat guy. Yes, he loved to drink, party, and sleep around, but he was a nerd. He had been his high school’s team captain of Scholar Bowl his junior and senior year, and led them to a state championship win. And he was also extremely socially awkward; it pained you to watch him interact with people.

“What the actual fuck are you wearing?” Anika questioned as you walked up the stairs to the house. She and Mindy were patiently waiting outside for you, and they both laughed at your outfit. “What? This is a vintage Gucci,” you stated as you did a twirl for the girls.

You were dressed up as Alan Garner from the hangout, and Anika hated to admit it, but you pulled off the cheap fake beard and wig. You also had a fake baby strapped to your chest with cheap sunglasses covering your eyes.

“You are really asking me that, Mr. Worldwide?” You jabbed as you eyed Anika up and down. The girl wore a god-awful bald cap, a black suit, and a white shirt with a shitty penciled-on goatee. “Haters gonna hate,” Anika replied as she pulled a pair of sunglasses out from her jacket pocket and put them on.

You scoffed at the girl before looking at Mindy, “I don’t even know what to say to you.”

“I’m going to have a BF if you insult me,” Mindy scolded as she stared you down. She wore a jean skirt with white pantyhose topped off with a jean jacket and a pink shirt that said ‘Dude, where’s my couture’ in red letters.

“Was this your idea?” You asked with an eyebrow raised.

Mindy scoffed at your words, “Of course not! I wanted to go as Vector but Chad wanted to match,” she said as she rolled her eyes, “So now, I’m from White Chicks instead of Despicable Me.”

“I think you would have made a very sexy Vector,” you admitted with a smile.

“Thank you. At least someone,” Mindy sent Anika a glare, “thinks it would have been sexy.”

Anika rolled her eyes at Mindy, “I told you I’m not having sex with you while you are dressed up like Vector!”

“Okayyyy, this just got weird,” you interrupted as you walked past the fighting couple but stopped just before the door, “you two coming?”

The two quickly stood up and followed you into the house. The smell of alcohol and weed was enough to turn your stomach as you opened the door. You saw partygoers dressed in all different kinds of costumes as you pushed through the crowd and made your way into the kitchen. “I shall have a bottle of Smirnoff, and what will my lady have?” Mindy asked as she dug around the cooler full of alcohol. “I shall have the same, my lord,” Anika replied, and you almost gagged at their conversation.

You politely pushed past Mindy and fished around for a bottle of water, and you quietly rejoiced when you pulled up the last bottle. “Seriously? Water?” Mindy questioned as she glared at you. “Yes, seriously. This is a frat party, and I only know three people here!” You exclaimed while holding your water.

Mindy muttered a quiet ‘whatever,’ and you were going to retort when you felt someone throw their arm around you and pull you into a hug. “How’s my favorite homo doing?” Miles questioned while ruffling your hair. “I’m fine, Miles. Thanks for asking,” Mindy butted in with a slight smile.

Miles let out a small laugh as he left your hair alone and gave Mindy a fist-bump, “I’ve missed you too, Mindy, and you as well, Anika.” Anika smiled at the man as she also fist-bumped him. “Well, me and Y/N here are going to go hunt for some Latinas to hit on, you two gay-bo’s have fun,” Miles said while pulling you off into another room.

“Really? We are going to ‘hunt for some Latinas?’” You questioned as you followed Miles into the living room. People were elbow to elbow, and you had to shout over the loud music to converse with the man. “Obviously! I know your three main things you look for in women, and I bet we can find someone here who is all three,” Miles replied as she slung his arm over your shoulder while scanning the room for a potential hookup for you.

You scoffed at your best friend’s words, “I do not have three things I look for in a woman. I only care about her personality and her thoughts on Dr. Pepper.”

A sound of fake gagging caused you to send a death glare at Miles. “I forgot you're a Dr. Pepper whore,” your friend joked as he started listing your three interests on his fingers. “Number one: you love Latinas, same here. Number two: you love emo chicks; same here again. And finally, number three, you love a woman older than you, and guess what? Same here too!”

“I hate that we are basically the same person in different fonts,” you mumbled under your breath as you shoved yourself off Miles, causing you to bump into a stranger accidentally.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” you quickly apologized as you faced the woman. She was close to a foot shorter than you, but had a beautiful smile and seemed like she had a charming personality. “No, it’s okay,” the girl replied slurredly. You could tell this girl was hammered out of her mind, and you had seen the eyes of preying men on her.

Not knowing what to do, you asked her, “Hey, I know we just met, but would you want to go outside with me?” The question was an innocent one; you didn’t want to leave an intoxicated girl who was pushing five feet nothing to fend off men like Frankie. “Sure,” the girl replied with a smile as she grabbed your hand and pulled you outside. You sent Miles a scared smile as the man responded with a comical smile and a thumbs up.

You followed the girl out to a small wooden swing and sat down next to her. “So, what’s your name?” You quietly asked. You had no intentions on hitting on this girl even though she was your type; you were just in need of some new friends, and you thought she could be a good addition.

Not that Anika and Miles were bad friends, you just needed someone else to hang out occasionally.

The girl reached her hand over to you while saying, “I’m Tara; it’s nice to meet you.” You gently shook her hand and sent her a grin, “I’m Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The further the night went along, the more you talked with Tara. You two quickly discovered that you both shared a love for art and elevated horror, and you even exchanged numbers with the girl.

“Oh shit,” Tara quietly mumbled as she stood up from the bench. You gave her a puzzled look before standing up as well, “is everything alright?”

“Yeah, it’s just my sister is freaking out about me right now,” Tara replied as she texted someone back, presumably the sister in question. “You aren’t in any trouble, are you? Because I can try and help to get you out,” you offered, causing Tara to chuckle at your words.

“Thank you, Y/N, but I think Sam would kill you if she ever met you,” Tara joked while looking up at you before returning to typing.

A minute passed before Tara sighed and closed her phone. “Well, I better get back home,” Tara said as she moved in to hug you, but your fake baby got in the way.

You gave Tara an awkward smile as you pulled the girl into a side hug and whispered in her ear, “Babies, am I right?”

“Why do you even have that thing?” Tara asked while flicking its head.

You quickly wrapped your arms around the baby’s head and shielded it from Tara. “Hey! Do not hurt my baby Carlos!” You exclaimed.

“Carlos? Are you serious?”

“Yes, I am serious. Do not hate on his name.”

“Why did you pick such an outlandish name?” Tara asked with a smile as she crossed her arms.

You scoffed at the girl’s words, “‘Carlos’ is not an outlandish name, Tara. And besides, it’s from the movie The Hangover.”

Tara chuckled at your words, “Oh my god, my sister loves that movie; she watches it all the time.”

“Is your sister single?” You asked with a playful smirk.

“Ha! Yeah, right. Good luck with that. Sam is pretty reserved,” Tara stated as she slowly started to walk toward the road.

“How come? If you don’t mind me asking,” you asked while following Tara and stopping on the sidewalk beside her.

The girl shrugged while pulling out her phone and texting someone. “Her last relationship ended badly. And ever since then, she’s just been closed off to everyone except me and always stalking me,” Tara admitted while putting her phone away, “but you’ll get a chance to meet her; she’s on her way to pick us up.”

“Us?”

“Yeah, only if you want to come over. I know we just met, but I feel like we could be friends,” Tara admitted with a smile as a black car pulled, parked, and the driver got out.

Tara continued talking to you, but as soon as you saw the driver, you couldn’t hear anything else. She was, to put it lightly, the most attractive woman you have ever seen. She had dark eyes that captivated you and a stern look as she approached you and Tara.

“Who’s this?” The alluring woman asked, and you could only think, ‘You’re future girlfriend’ with a giant smile.

The younger sister beamed at her sister’s question and placed a hand on your back, gently pushing you toward the woman. “Sam, this is Y/N. She’s my friend,” Tara stated.

“Hi,” you breathlessly replied with an awkward smile as you stuck out your hand toward Sam. The woman looked you up and down before scoffing and slapping your hand away. “How come you’ve never mentioned her before?” Sam questioned while crossing her arms.

“Because, Sam, we just met tonight.”

At that, Sam’s eyes instantly widened as she stared at her sister. “Are you serious?! You don’t even know this stranger, yet you came outside to be alone with her?” Sam exclaimed as she checked her sister over for any injuries.

“I’m fine, Sam. And besides, Y/N isn’t that bad,” Tara laughed as she felt Sam’s hands check out of her body.

Sam stopped her movements and looked Tara in the eyes, “And how do you know that?”

Tara huffed at Sam’s question and turned to face you, “You aren’t going to murder me, Y/N, are you?”

“Yes, I am,” you joked with a playful smile, but Sam didn’t find it funny.

“Well, at least I get a heads up this time,” Tara chuckled, completely ignoring Sam’s bewildering expression.

Sam took in her sister’s words before shaking her head, shocked, “No, absolutely not. Come on, Tara, we are leaving,” Sam said as she walked to the driver’s side.

“Can Y/N come over at least?” Tara asked with puppy dog eyes and a small frown. Sam hated it when Tara did this, and her younger sister knew it always worked. Of course, Sam knew that Tara was only doing this to get her way, and Sam never denied her sister.

With a quiet ‘goddamnit,’ Sam allowed you to come with them.

“Thank you,” you said once you got into the back of the car and buckled up. You only got a small grunt in response, but you took it as a win.

The car ride was filled with low music and the occasional conversation between the sisters as you admired Sam. You were sitting behind the passenger seat, allowing you the perfect side view to look at Sam. Unbeknownst to you, Sam had caught you staring at her in the rearview mirror but made no verbal comment. ‘Fucking weirdo,’ she thought to herself as she quickly glanced at your love-sick eyes in the mirror.

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

Arriving at the Carpenters' apartment, Tara gave you a quick tour of the place and introduced you to their roommate Quinn, who naturally took a liking to you.

While you were on the couch talking with Tara, Quinn walked into the kitchen and found Sam glaring at you.

“She’s certainly something, isn’t she?” Quinn questioned while twirling her hair around her finger. You had taken off the fake beard, wig, and sunglasses and left your baby and baby carrier next to the door, and Sam had to admit, now that she saw your entire face, you were undeniably attractive.

Sam side-eyes Quinn before looking back at you and then back to the redhead. “I thought you were strictly men?”

Quinn chuckled at Sam’s response, “How can I thoroughly enjoy sex if I’ve never been with a woman? They know the female body better than anyone else.”

Not being able to form an argument against Quinn’s words, Sam nodded her head in agreement.

“Wish me luck,” Quinn said as she gently slapped Sam’s back before entering the living room, sitting right next to you.

And for some unknown reason, Sam felt a tinge of jealousy shoot throughout her body, making her hate you all the more.

You and Tara stayed up watching movies while Quinn occasionally hit on you. And when it came time for people to start turning in, Quinn gave it one last shot.

“Well, I’m going to bed,” Quinn said as she rubbed her hands on her thighs before standing up, “you can always come sleep with me, Y/N,” she finished with a wink before walking into her room.

Once she was gone, Tara apologized, “I’m sorry about her. She’s like that with everyone.”

“Eh, I don’t mind the boost of confidence,” you replied with a smirk. Tara laughed at your words, and her eyes darted to Sam’s door as it opened.

Sam walked into the living room and glared at you before looking at Tara. “Alright, Tara, I think it’s time for Y/N to go home,” Sam stated as she crossed her arms.

Tara let out a small groan as she threw her head back before standing up. “Alright, Alan, let’s go,” Tara replied as she pulled you off the couch and walked toward the door with you.

“What are you doing?” Sam questioned while watching you, and Tara put on your shoes. “I’m taking Y/N home?” Tara replied with a puzzled look.

“Nuh-uh, nope,” Sam responded as she walked over to the door and stood before it, “you are not leaving here this late at night with her.”

With a scoff, Tara looked between you and her sister, “Well, what do you want her to do then? Walk home?”

“Yes,” Sam immediately replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“So it’s not safe enough for me to walk with her, but she can go alone?”

Sam took a few seconds to think about it before responding, “That is correct.”

Tara sighed; she knew there was no point in arguing with Sam, but she got a bright idea. “Well, since you won’t let me take her home, you can,” Tara suggested as she removed her shoes.

“No!” You and Sam exclaimed at the same time but for different reasons. Sam didn’t want to take you home because she did not like you at all. While you, on the other hand, didn’t want to be left alone with the woman because you knew for a fact you would be a blushing mess and wouldn’t be able to form a sentence.

“I’ll take her home,” a voice called from behind you, and you turned to see Quinn leaning against her door frame. The redhead wore a sheer white blouse, and you could see her red lingerie bra.

“I’m fine with that,” you replied too quickly with a smile on your face.

But Sam scoffed at your words before moving to grab her keys. “Absolutely not. Come on, Y/N. I’ll take you,” Sam stated as she pushed past you to open the door. You gave Quinn a small wave and told Tara you would text her as you gathered up Carlos, your fake beard and wig, along with your sunglasses, before following Sam out to her car.

“Thank you for taking me home. I appreciate it, Sam,” you commented as you buckled up. Sam huffed in response as she started her car.

“How do I get to your house?” Sam asked after a few moments of driving down a random street. You told the woman your address, and Sam wanted to scream when she realized it would take almost thirty minutes to get to your house due to traffic.

The car was filled with the heavenly voice of Lana Del Rey as you leaned your head back against the headrest and looked over at Sam. You couldn’t explain it, but Sam was exactly what you would imagine a Lana Del Rey song would look like.

“Stop staring at me; you’re creepy as shit,” Sam said once she felt your eyes on her.

You awkwardly cleared your throat as you uncomfortably shifted in your seat while staring at the floor. “So, Tara told me your favorite movie is The Hangover?” You questioned while fidgeting with your fingers.

A few seconds passed before dryly said, “Yes.” And even more, seconds passed before she added, “I hope Carlos had a fun night.”

You lightly chuckled at the woman’s words as you messed with Carlos’ plastic hands, “Yeah, he had a blast tonight.”

Sam responded with a small ‘mhm’ as she continued driving, enjoying the awkward silence that filled the air.

When Sam arrived at your apartment, she realized that you lived in the nicer part of New York, and she loathed you for it. Not only were you a nuisance, you were more than likely a spoiled rich brat, and Sam could not wait to get rid of you.

“This is me,” you quietly mumbled while getting out of the vehicle with your items in hand as Sam rolled down the window to talk to you, “Thank you for the ride, Sam. I appreciate it,” you said as you pulled out your wallet and handed the woman a ten dollar through the window.

She looked between you and the money before staring into your eyes, “I’m not having sex with you for money.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and shook your head. “What? No. No! That’s not what I was implying,” you quickly defended before looking at Sam, “Why would you think?”

The woman shrugged her shoulders before speaking, “Because all you’ve done tonight is stare at me, so you either want sex or want to kill me,” Sam suggested.

“Why would I want to kill you?”

“Because you’re being creepy as shit! And you told Tara you were going to murder her.”

“Okay, fair enough. But I was completely joking about the whole murder thing,” you replied with a small laugh that Sam clearly didn’t find funny. You didn’t know about the past traumas the sisters have gone through together, and Sam knew that you didn’t know, but it didn’t make her feel any better toward you.

“Whatever,” Sam replied as she took your money before driving off.

“Goodnight, Sam!” You exclaimed while the car pulled away, and you sighed before heading to your apartment. Sam might not be the biggest fan of you right now, but you vowed you would win over the woman’s heart, no matter what it took.

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

Winning over Sam was much more challenging than you initially thought it would be. Every time you visited Tara at her place, Sam wouldn’t even acknowledge you, and anytime you would try to talk to her, she would quickly dismiss you. But you were ever the persistent type, and you knew you would eventually wiggle your way into her heart.

It had been exactly four months since you met Tara, and the girl was planning a memorable evening for you two to celebrate the milestone in your friendship.

You approached her apartment door and knocked thrice. Within a few seconds, the door slowly opened and revealed a grumpy Sam. “What do you want?” The woman questioned while looking up and down, her eyes moving to your right hand, “Why do you have flowers?”

“These are for you, actually,” you replied with a smile as you handed Sam her flowers. Sam studied you before reaching out and accepting the flowers, “Thanks, I guess.”

Now, Sam would never admit this even if someone held a gun to her head, but the way she felt knowing that you had gotten her real flowers and not some cheap fake ones from the Dollar Store, it was different. No one had ever brought her flowers before, and especially not in a romantic way, if that’s the game you were playing at.

The Latina studied the flowers and couldn’t help but chuckle at them: lavenders and violets; how subtle you were.

“So,” you said with a cheesy smile, “I’m here to hang out with Tara.”

“Tara! Your weird friend is here!” Sam shouted into the apartment before walking into the living room, with you a few steps behind her.

‘Sweet, that’s exactly how I like to be announced,’ you thought while moving to sit on the couch. You silently watched as Sam walked into the kitchen and threw away the flowers, and it pained you to see the beautiful blooms go to waste.

A few seconds passed when an overly excited Tara came into the living room and jumped onto the couch right next to you.

“Alright, here’s the plan: we order pizza, watch a movie and make some cookies, and then drink wine and paint. Deal?” Tara asked with eagerness and a giant smile on her face. “Sounds like a deal,” you replied while matching her grin. “Good,” Tara exclaimed while jumping off the couch and hunting for her phone to call in the pizza.

When the pizza arrived, you and Tara ate at the kitchen table along with Sam and Quinn. Naturally, the dinner was a bit awkward, as Quinn kept on hitting on you, and Sam would glare at you. You weren’t going to lie; you enjoyed the redhead's attention and were more than eager to answer her questions about your hometown and what you were majoring in.

Once you four had finished the pizza off, Tara set up a movie in the living room while Quinn left to go meet up with one of her many gentlemen callers, leaving just you and Sam in the kitchen.

The Latina watched as you pulled out some cookie dough and began preparing. “You know, you could always help,” you said while turning on the oven and pulling out a baking pan, and cleaning it off.

“I’m good,” Sam dryly replied as she crossed her arms and continued watching you work. You felt uncomfortable with her eyes burning into the back of your skull, “Stop staring; you’re creepy as shit.”

Sam huffed at your words before letting out a sound that sounded like a slight chuckle. “You’re one to talk,” the woman retorted while watching you eat a raw cookie dough bite, “you know you can get salmonella and die from that, right?”

You lightly chuckled at Sam’s as you finished eating the cookie dough, “Then I will be the first person in the history of the world to die from salmonella.”

You ignored the quiet ‘thank god,’ Sam muttered under her breath as Tara entered the room. “How are the cookies coming?” The girl questioned while eating a raw piece of cookie dough as well. “There wouldn't be any if you two keep on eating them,” Sam stated as she pushed you away from the pan and set the pieces of cookie dough on it.

“Why did you do that? I am perfectly capable of setting them out myself,” you said while watching Sam finish placing the cookie dough on the pan. “Because you and Tara would just eat it all,” the older woman replied as she put the pan in the oven and closed the door.

“If you say so,” you retorted as you entered the living room with Tara. You sat on the couch first and allowed Tara to cuddle up next to you as she pressed play on the movie.

You two enjoyed the peaceful comfort that had fallen over you when Sam called out, “Cookies are done,” while walking into the living room. “Seriously, you two? Shrek?” Sam asked while she watched the screen. “Yes, Sam. Shrek is amazing,” Tara retorted as she pushed off you and practically flew into the kitchen.

You gave Sam a tight-lipped smile as you walked past her and ate some cookies with Tara. And soon enough, Sam joined you two in the kitchen.

The woman stared at you as you finished your cookie and walked toward you. “You have something on your lip,” Sam said as she reached out and gently wiped away a piece of chocolate from the corner of your lips. You felt your heart explode at the contact and your knees weaken; you thought you would surely die if Sam kept this up.

She let her thumb linger on your lips before gently swiping it across your bottom lip with a smirk on her own lips before walking off to her room. She didn’t know why she did it, but it stirred something in her as she watched your shocked expression and lustful eyes dance across her face.

“What the fuck was that?” Tara asked as she shoved you once Sam was out of earshot.

“Huh uh,” you replied with a love sock grin as you stared at the hallway Sam disappeared into. The more petite girl gave you a look of disgust before pulling you into the living room to drink and paint, but your mind kept on drifting back to the beautiful woman who hated you as you worked. And before you knew it, you had accidentally painted a picture of Sam. In the painting, she was leaning against a doorframe wearing a skin-tight gray long-sleeve shirt that highlighted her muscles with jeans. A casual outfit you had seen Sam wear numerous times, but she still looked breathtaking.

Her eyes amused you the most in the picture; even though it wasn’t a close-up painting, her dark eyes still seemed to pull you in, and you could faintly see the monster she hid behind them.

You fell head over heels for Sam Carpenter that night.

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

Once every month, you would go over to Tara’s apartment for wine and painting, and it was probably the one night you looked forward to every month.

Not because you got an excuse to drink and stare lustfully at Tara’s controversial hot sister, but because you enjoyed creating the most horrific art pieces with the girl that no one should ever see.

“What the hell is that?” Tara drunkenly laughed one night after a few too many glasses of wine.

“I don’t know!” You said while watching Tara’s tone. You had created what was supposed to be your version of Sully from Monsters Inc but had made a giant blurb of blue and purple with the slightest resemblance to Ed Sheeran.

“Will you two keep it down?” Sam asked as she walked into the living room, wearing nothing but a bra and shorts.

You choked on your spit when you saw the woman and nearly fainted when a single drop of water ran down her defined abs.

“Sorry about that, Sam,” Tara replied with a drunken smile before returning to her painting, entirely ignorant of your lustful state.

One moment you were sitting next to Tara, and the next, you were in the kitchen next to Sam.

“Hey,” you husked out with a flirtatious smile and a nod as you leaned against the doorframe, trying your best to act sober and calm simultaneously.

“Hi,” Sam suspiciously replied as her eyes racked over your body and took in your drunken state.

“How you doin’?” You asked, and Sam couldn’t help but laugh at your shitty attempt to flirt with her.

“What do you want, Y/N?” Sam asked while getting out a bottle of water and facing you. You shrugged your shoulders as you pushed off the doorframe, “Would you like to come paint with us?”

At the mention of her sister joining in on the activity, Tara yelled from the living room, “Sam! Sammy! You have to come and paint with us!”

Sam sighed at her sister’s words before walking into her room, throwing on a random shirt and grudgingly sauntering into the living room and picking up a blank canvas as she sat beside you.

You three worked in silence as the soft sounds of Hozier filled the air. Sam would occasionally sneak a peek at your work, but you would always hide it. And when she finally got a good look at it, she wished she hadn’t seen it.

“Y/N. Why the fuck did you paint a naked lady?” Sam demanded as she stared at your artwork.

It was a sloppy picture of a woman wearing a white dress with one boob hanging out, and Sam had to admit, those had to be the biggest boobs she’s ever seen. The lady in the painting wore a faint black hat, and somehow, she looked familiar to Sam.

“Do not hate on my lovely wife, Samantha Carpenter. I shall have you know that Lady Dimitrescu is one of the finest women I have ever seen!” You defended while looking over at Sam’s artwork, “And what did you come up with?”

When you leaned over and saw what Sam had made, you couldn’t hide your disappointment. A frown pulled at your lips as you looked at a shitty painting of Sam stabbing you with a knife.

“It was a joke,” Sam whispered as her heart broke at your saddened expression. When she first started it, she felt good about it, and it made her happy. But now that she looked at your hallowed eyes and frowning lips, she wished she hadn't made it.

“No, it’s okay,” you replied as you cleared your throat and stood up, “Well, this has been fun, but I’m going to bed,” you finished as you walked off to Tara’s room and shut the door. You ignored the feeling of Sam’s eyes burning into your back.

“Way to go, Sam,” Tara scoffed as she stood up from the couch and went to her room to check on you. She knew of your feelings for Sam, and Tara tried her best to get her sister to warm up to you, but no matter how hard she worked, Sam refused to bridge.

But Tara didn’t know that Sam went to bed that night with regret plaguing her heart and mind as she went to sleep with the thought of you.

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

After that awkward night, you stopped coming to the Carpenter’s apartment as much. At first, you would say that you would have homework to catch up on, which was true, but then after a while, you completely stopped coming over at all.

Of course, you would talk to Tara every day, but when she invited you over, you would miraculously have something else to do that prevented you from coming.

“It’s because of Sam, isn’t it?” Tara asked you. The two of you were back at another frat party for Miles, and you were enjoying a peaceful conversation outside when Tara finally asked the question that had been plaguing her mind for weeks. “Pshh, no,” you replied with a shrug.

“Y/N, stop lying to me; I know it’s because of that picture she made,” Tara stated as she stared up at you, “Sam didn’t mean it.”

You scoffed at your best friend’s words while rolling your eyes. “The fuck do you mean she didn’t mean it, Tara!” You exclaimed.

“I mean, she felt bad afterward.”

“Yeah, right. You’re just lying because you want me to come back over.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Tara replied with a smile.

You two continued your conversation while occasionally people-watching until it was time to leave. Sam had slowly started to loosen up with Tara, so she was letting her sister go out more as long as she was there to pick up the girl. “Alright, Sam is on her way,” Tara commented when she read a text. You nodded at the girl’s words and tried to hide that you didn’t want to see Sam.

You hadn’t talked to the woman since that night, and you didn’t want to. Even though you were hopelessly devoted to Sam, you were hurt by how she treated you. You had been nice to her, and she would reject all of it, and weirdly, it hurt you to see Sam push you away.

Tara picked up on your pondering thoughts and reached a hand out, and rubbed it up and down your bicep. “Y/N, Sam is a grumpy asshole who is overprotective; don’t take it personally,” Tara said while reaching up to pinch your cheek with a smile.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Sam said as she approached you two. You quickly slapped Tara’s hand away from your face before looking at Sam. You had missed the dark-eyed woman and were glad to see her again, but you were still upset with the woman.

“No, you’re good,” Tara replied as she started following Sam to her car with you beside her.

The walk back to the vehicle was peaceful and filled with small banter between you and Tara, while Sam kept quiet until you ran into a group of drunken girls.

You could tell that they meant trouble before you were anywhere near them. The group was small, only consisting of three girls, but you could tell they were trouble as they stared down Sam when they walked past.

Sam pulled Tara into her side as the group walked by, and the woman said nothing when one of the girls shoulder-checked her.

“Come on,” Sam whispered while pulling Tara closer to her. You sent the group of girls a glance while walking, and you noticed how they stopped and turned around, and began walking behind you and the sisters.

“Hey!” One of the girls called, and Sam didn’t have time to react when she turned to face the girl and had a red slushie thrown on her.

The girls called Sam anything from a murderer to a liar, even to a whore, but Sam continued walking with tears in her eyes. She could handle all of the conspiracy theorist nuts, but she couldn’t handle having Tara see how she was treated.

So, when one girl called Sam a murderer again, you turned around and threw a punch. The sound of bone crunching rang throughout the air when your fist made contact with the girl's nose and was followed up by the girl's cries.

“You need to get your psycho girlfriend in check, you fucking murderer,” another girl cried out as she checked on her friend. You chuckled at the girl’s words and were getting ready to retort when you received a punch from the third girl.

You stumbled backward into Sam, and to your surprise, she caught you and whispered a quiet “I got you,” while you steadied your feet. “Come on,” Tara said as she dragged you and Sam away from the group.

The three of you walked briskly to Sam’s car as blood poured from your nose. When you reached the car, Sam opened her glove box and handed you some tissues, which you graciously accepted. You sat in the back seat while Sam drove, and Tara tried to talk to you.

“Tara, I love you so much, but I am in so much pain right now,” you choked out as you pressed the tissues to your bloody nose. Tara didn’t want to be the one to tell you this, but your nose was definitely broken, and she was not going to be the one to put it back in place.

“How are you doing back there?” Sam asked while quickly glancing back at you. “My nose is in my brain!” You exaggerated while holding your nose, and Sam chuckled at your response as she continued driving.

When you got to the Carpenter apartment, the blood had stopped pouring out, and you were thanking the gods as it had completely covered the tissues in crimson blood along with your chin. “Sit on the couch; I’ll be right back,” Tara said as she pushed you and Sam onto the couch.

Tara disappeared into the bathroom and grabbed a first-aid kit before returning to the living room, and she laughed at the sight of you and her sister. The slushie on Sam’s shirt matched the blood that had dried on the tissues and stained your chin, and you both looked like you had gone through hell.

Tara moved the coffee table closer to you and started to work on cleaning it up when Sam stopped her. “I got her, Tara. Go to bed,” Sam softly spoke as she moved the first-aid kit closer to her. Tara gave her sister a questionable look before muttering, “Okay,” and walking off to her room.

You watched as Sam pulled out some alcohol wipes and gently cleaned up your nose, and you let out a slight hiss as the alcohol seeped into a cut on the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry,” Sam apologized as she finished cleaning your nose, “It’s broken.”

“I know,” you groaned, and Sam lightly laughed at your response. “I can pop it back into place for you,” Sam offered.

“Hell no,” you replied, laughing, “I would need lidocaine with epinephrine injected into my nose and then lidocaine sprayed into my nose! Then you would need a device to basically reach my brain and put a shit ton of pressure on my nose with it and your fingers to fix it!”

“Well, I’ll take you to the ER tomorrow so we can get it fixed,” Sam asked as she got up from the couch and saw the backpack you had left over before you went to the frat party with Tara.

“Y/N, what’s this?” Sam asked as she moved your bag and pulled out a painting. You whipped your head around at the woman’s words and instantly stood up from the couch and moved to her side. “That’s nothing,” you quickly said as you tried to prevent Sam from looking at it, but it was too late.

When Sam picked up the painting, she felt her stomach do involuntary flips, and her breath hitched in her throat; it was a painting of her and not just a normal one. She noticed imperfections about her that you saw as perfect through the gentle brush strokes, and she felt herself fall for you.

“I’m not one of your French girls,” Sam joked as she set the painting back down, but you noticed the smile that threatened to appear and how her eyes bravely traveled to your lips before returning to your eyes. “Goodnight, Y/N,” Sam added as she gently placed a small kiss on your cheek before going to her room.

You had no idea how you did it, but you somehow managed to make Sam Carpenter fall for you and you could not wait to see where it would take you.

#sam carpenter #scream #sam carpenter x reader #melissa barrera #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x y/n #Spotify

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