#adding a useless gif | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

champagnefountains · 4 months

Text

LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.

CHAPTER II - Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Previous chapter: [x] Word Count: 3.4k+ words (unedited). Genre/other tags: Angst with some fluff. Jealousy. Fem pronouns used. Warnings: Swearing. Self-deprecation. Manipulation (on Alastor's part).

It had been nearly over a week since you and Lucifer last talked – it had also been a week since Lucifer was last seen around in the hotel. Angel, being the gossiper he was, relayed everything that had transpired between you two to the others the following day. Seeing the sensitive and sad shell of a person you were left in, everyone remained cautious and had started walking on eggshells around you. Of course, you were quick to pick up on that, as embarrassing as it all was (minus Alastor, who continued on with his usual theatrics and mischief).

Charlie in particular was the most concerned out of them all, since this was her dad we were talking about. She knew with certainty that he was confining himself in the castle to distract himself from what happened – likely something involving his rubber-ducky obsession – instead of facing the problem head on. It was his pride that sometimes got in the way of his better judgement.

Not only that, but Charlie clearly saw the massive toll it took on you. If you weren’t distracting yourself with work or doing something related to the hotel, you would lock yourself away in your room, only coming out to quickly grab a bite to eat from the kitchen. Charlie even made efforts to strike many conversations with you from time to time, but was either excused or was only given one-worded responses. She knew not to take your dismissive behaviour to heart, but she couldn’t help but fret over you.

So it came as an absolute surprise when out of nowhere, Charlie received a call from her father. She messily scrambled for her phone on her desk, fumbling and nearly dropping it in the process before violently tapping on the small screen. “H-Hello?! Dad, hey!” She answers a bit too enthusiastically while nervously combing her hair with a free hand. “Uh, hey Charlie!” Lucifer stiffly greets from the other line, “I just…um, thought I’d give a call to, uh, see how everyone’s going at the hotel!” The Princess noted how much hoarser his voice was than usual, but decided not to comment on it aloud.

“Well, y’know how it is! It’s been busy and lively as always–everyone’s been working really hard and all,” she answers vaguely, nervously chuckling. “Err, yeah! Right. That’s a–that’s a relief to hear. Yep,” he hums. There was a brief, awkward pause that ensued soon after, the both of them not knowing what to say next. The whole exchange was becoming increasingly painful that Charlie resisted the urge to pull her hair. She then clears her throat. “H-How about you, dad? What’ve you been up to? You’ve been gone for a couple or so days,” Charlie finally musters, “are…are you doing alright?”

“Me? Oh yeah, psh! I just got, erm…a lot of things going on at the moment. It’s not so easy being the big boss of hell after all! Got a lot of important things to do! Plus, I’ve got heaps of paperwork to do for the hotel. You should know how tedious that is,” He says, adding an exaggerated groan.

The princess furrows her brows. “Oh, that’s…strange. ’Cause I could’ve sworn you left all the papers here…y’know, the ones you told me to revise over?” Charlie replies, side-eyeing the said documents stacked neatly on her desk. A startled yelp escapes his throat. “O-Oh...did I?” He stammers.

Charlie couldn’t help but wince at the evident panic that began to set in as she listened to her father make incomprehensible noises from the other line. It was a poor attempt in reasoning, which ultimately became useless in the end. Lucifer let out a long sigh, caught red-handed. “Oh, who the hell am I kidding? You guys probably already know what happened–which by the way, Charlie, you shouldn’t be lying to me about!” He pointedly remarks.

“I-I’m sorry, dad! It’s just…I’m really worried about you,” she reasons, before shortly adding, “...The both of you.”

There was a small pause. “...How is she, by the way?” He then asks quietly. Charlie nervously tugs her bottom lip with her fangs. “Well, she’s keeping herself busy. Constantly, as a matter of fact. And I know she’s trying hard to convince us all that she’s holding up okay, but…she doesn’t look too good, dad. She seems really upset.”

A shaky exhale sounded from his end. “I…I really am hopeless, aren’t I?” He mumbles defeatedly. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could picture him burying his face in his hands. The image caused Charlie’s eyes to soften. “Dad, no. It’s not too late. You still have a chance to make things right,” Charlie gently encourages through the speaker, “you just need to talk to each other–”

Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, a bright, blazing portal manifests from thin air – from it, emerges Lucifer himself who appeared extremely dishevelled, effectively catching Charlie off guard.

“But, hun, y-you don’t understand! I messed up big time!” He exclaims, tugging on his unkempt hair as he aimlessly paced around her office. “I-I mean, look at me! I’m a fucking mess and a coward! Why would she ever think to take me back after what I did!?” He chuckles humourlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “I-It’s like no matter how many times I try to redeem and convince myself that everything’s finally going right in my life, I just continue to fuck myself over and over again. And it’s just– ugh! It’s pathetic! I’m fucking pathetic!”

Charlie’s chest tightened considerably as she watched her father self-destruct before her. Strands of his golden hair were sticking out here and there, his dress-shirt tousled, and his eyes were glossed over and red, from both a lack of sleep and crying. He looked utterly devastated. Chucking her phone away, she immediately sped towards and enveloped Lucifer in her arms, who immediately broke down into heavy sobs. Seeing him like this brought tears to her own eyes, but she firmly told herself to be the stronger person in this situation, for his sake.

“Hey, hey. Dad, listen to me, okay? Everyone deserves a second chance. You of all people should know–you were the one who taught me that, remember?” Charlie rubbed his back soothingly, trying to ease the jumpiness of his shoulders. “And that also applies to you. I…I know you’ve been through a lot, especially with mum…” She couldn’t help the way her frown deepened as she spoke, “...and I miss her too. I miss her a lot. But…I think it’s finally time for you to move on. It’s been years, dad. You deserve to be happy and you’re allowed to be in love again.”

“[Name]’s an amazing person, and there’s no doubt about that. She’s proved that more than many times already. I’m certain that once things ease over and you guys finally talk things through, everything will turn out okay; she’s very understanding and kind like that. You’ll both be okay.” Charlie gently pulls Lucifer away and with the sleeve of her blazer, she wipes his damp, reddened cheeks. “I know for a fact that she loves and cares about you deeply – we can all see it as clear as day. You…you love her too, don’t you, dad?”

For a brief moment’s contemplation, Lucifer suddenly recalled the times you spent together, from your initial meeting to now. He had always thought you were a strong and independent soul, with the way you carried yourself. You just had something about you that naturally drew in those around you, including himself. When Lucifer got to know you in a deeper level, he was enthralled by how kind and understanding you were – you were always there to listen to his many tales and endless nonsense; you would always seem genuinely interested in his rubber-duck-esque inventions, offering some input and critiquing his creations; and you would always be so, so supportive of all his plans and ideas, no matter how extraordinary they all seemed.

If he hadn't known any better, Lucifer would've thought you were an actual angel. You were the saviour that wore off the darkness in troubling times, and the one who pulled him out of the void that Lilith had left him in. That and more, as you continuously gave him a real reason to remain hopeful. You were proof personified, that he was able to open his heart once more, and to love again.

“I-I do, I really do,” Lucifer affirms in a heartbeat. Charlie smiles warmly, relieved by his answer, “then that’s all you need to say.” At that moment, Lucifer's chest swelled in overwhelming pride for his daughter, knowing that despite not being as present in her life until recently, she grew up to be the good and strong-willed person he had hoped for.

“O-Oh, jeez. Since when did you grow up so big? I should be the one comforting you,” He tearfully jokes, sniffling whilst returning her smile, “but thank you, Charlie. Really. I’m…I-I really am grateful to call you my daughter.” The two royalties then shared a heart-felt moment and a bone-crushing hug, with the King's heart being filled with a new-found determination. Because, just as he always says: The show must go on.

Earlier on:

On the other side of the building, you were drowning yourself in your own self-despair as you overlooked the balcony by the front entrance of the hotel. Your eyes lazily scanned the new hotel patrons below, who were engaging in some trust exercises led by Vaggie, who came in to cover you just moments ago. Every once in a while, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone, silently hoping to receive some sort of notification from Lucifer, or even an inkling of his whereabouts. But you received nothing, which only fuelled your growing anxiety.

You felt awful leaving the way you did that night, especially after dumping so much onto Lucifer. You felt like you were being completely selfish, and had cornered him into making a big decision. And because of that, your relationship was on the line. You let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing angrily at your face.

Little did you know however, that you had some company lurking nearby, watching you in silent amusement.

“Now, don’t you look as miserable as ever?” Alastor mockingly chimes in, stepping out from the shadows to make his presence known and joins you by the balcony. You roll your eyes at the deer-demon before turning your head the other direction. “Yeah, and what about it?” You scoff, leaning in to rest your arms against the rails, “Can’t you go bother someone else, Alastor? I’m certainly not in the mood right now.”

“Why, I wouldn’t be a good hotelier if I left a dear co-worker of mine so down in the slumps!” To your dismay, Alastor reappears in front of you, obstructing your field of view, "And might I add, it's not healthy for you to be all cooped up in your room all the time – stay there any longer, and it can do silly, little things to your head!" He emphasises his point as he spins a finger in a circular motion by his temple. You shot him an irritated look, slowly growing fed up by his prodding.

"Listen, I don't need you telling me what I should and shouldn't do. I’m more than capable of deciding that on my own,” you growl, straightening up to cross your arms firmly against your chest. “Hm...no, I don’t think so!” Alastor hums, shaking his head disapprovingly, “The unfortunate affair that took place in your courtship with the King has left you in such a vulnerable, and problematic state. And I’m sure you’ve taken note of how everyone’s been acting around you – constantly walking on their tiptoes in fear of setting you off on a hissy-fit. You’ve caused them to worry a lot about you, dear. Poor ol’ Charlie, especially.”

You open your mouth to retort back, but nothing came out. A strong pang of guilt struck you as his words began to sink in. Seeing this, Alastor’s grin widened a faction as he stepped forward and levelled himself with you, now facing you eye-to-eye. “And as the executive producer of this fine establishment, might I critique that your behaviour is affecting our team’s morale and performance…and we mustn’t have that now, should we? Especially not since we’ve all been more preoccupied recently with our guests!” He…had a fair point, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…know…” Your voice began to trail off, shoulders slumping in realisation of how selfish and contemptuous you’ve been acting this whole week. You recalled the fretful expressions of your friends and your dismissive attitude towards them. “I-I didn’t mean to make everyone worry…” you quietly say. Alastor’s words only made you feel immensely worse about the whole situation, leaving you sniffling on the spot.

“Now, now. As long as you realise your mistakes, then you shall be forgiven,” he coos, softly patting the tuft of your head. At that, you couldn’t help but send a doubtful glance his way. “W-wait a minute…why do you care all of a sudden? What exactly are you playing at?” You suspiciously question as you rub at your eyes.

“Oh, how you wound me, dear! Why must you always question any act of kindness I display? Is it really that hard to believe?” He adverts, evidently feigning hurt. You deadpan. “Yes, it is,” you reply almost instantly. Alastor chortles at your bluntness, “Haha! You’re quite a work of art, aren't you, dear? Now, let’s go out for a walk, shall we?”

Before you could’ve processed what he had said, Alastor had already spun you around, pulling you with him as you both headed down a flight of stairs. “Wha–Alastor, where are we–where the heck are you taking me?” You asked, trying to keep up with his long strides so as to not trip down the stairs. “Hm? Did I not already specify? It looks like your brooding has impacted your hearing, dear. That’s a shame,” he slyly comments, now dragging you towards the entrance, “We’re both going for a walk around town, it’ll help clear that cloudy head of yours!”

“Hold on-Stop! Just what makes you think I’d agree to go out with you?” You shoot back, retracting your arm from his hold and stopping metres behind him. Alastor sharply turns around and pulls out a wrinkled, yellow piece of paper out of thin air. Your eyes dart towards the sheet, seeing a familiar hand-writing across the page.

“Why, I just knew you were going to question me – you're so predictable. But might I add, we’re not going out without purpose! No, no! Our lovely Charlie has composed a list and requested we fetch a couple items in town!” Stepping forward, you swiftly snatched the paper from his clawed hand and briefly scanned the list, noting that it largely consisted of decorations and party items. “She wanted to organise a heart-warming celebration for the wayward souls here who have accomplished some milestones on their journey to redemption! An anniversary ceremony of sorts, if you will,” Alastor explains, lightly patting the non-existing dust off of his suit.

“But couldn’t you just…I don’t know, teleport the things here?” You blatantly ask, raising a brow at him. You knew he was more than capable of doing such minuscule tasks within a span of seconds. “And waste such a beautiful day outside? Now, why would I even consider doing that?” Alastor states matter-of-factly, “And like I said, the short trip will help clear your troubled mind! Consider it a gesture of compassion from yours truly.”

There was clearly something off about all this but you couldn’t see any reason for an ulterior motive. It was just…simply a manager looking out for the well-being of his work-colleagues, as uncharacteristic and off-putting as it sounded out loud. Already exhausted, you couldn’t bring it in yourself to question his actions any further.

“You’re really not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, are you?” You ask. Seeing the way Alastor’s grin widened had you sighing in defeat. “Shall we then?” Alastor questions, offering an arm out to you. Rolling your eyes, you loop one of your arms through and follow him out the hotel. ‘A small walk wouldn’t hurt…’ you think to yourself as the doors shut behind you.

Currently:

Lucifer tiredly dragged himself to his designated room in the hotel, to rest for a while and take a much needed bath as per Charlie’s advice. He gave himself a lengthy pep-talk in front of the mirror as he brushed his teeth, deciding to approach you tonight to finally talk and clear things out. Yes, he was absolutely terrified about the possibility of things going south during the confrontation, but he didn’t think he could handle another second being without you. And he needed to make that loud and clear.

After putting on an outfit and neatly slicking his hair back, Lucifer looked at his reflection once more in the bedside mirror, inspecting himself up and down to flatten any remaining creases of his clothing. But it wasn't until his gaze landed on his left hand that he tensed up. Peering down, he brought his hand into view to inspect the very wedding band that caused it all. With a shaky sigh, Lucifer slowly pulled the ring off of his finger. He took a moment to examine it, eyes filled with sentiment before kneeling down to open his bedside drawer, where its designated ring-box sat. The moment he encased the ring in its box and locked it away in his drawer, it felt like a breath of fresh air. To his own surprise, Lucifer found himself tearfully laughing – he felt...genuinely happy. Proud, even. It was at this very moment that he felt like he was finally ready to move forward.

After patting the stray tears away from his face, Lucifer slowly made his way down to the front lobby. There, Charlie and Vaggie were talking amongst themselves by the lounge area, whilst Angel and Cherri chuckled away by the bar, with Husk tending to their beverages. The King didn’t give an inkling of care as to where Alastor had gone, and he was certain that Nifty was hiding somewhere in the small crevices of the hotel, cleaning away. All in all, there was no sight of you whatsoever, visibly disappointing him.

Seeing his approaching form, Charlie waved his father over towards them. “Hey, dad. Are you feeling a bit better now?” She asks with a comforting smile. “Yeah, totally. Thanks, dear,” he says, patting her shoulder affectionately before turning his attention towards her partner. “Hey! How’s it going, Maggie? I’ve heard you’ve been working real hard lately, huh? Good on yah!” He commends, playfully nudging the said demon. “Oh, um…it’s–it’s Vaggie, sir. And uh, thanks,” she nervously chuckles, rubbing her arm. “Mhm, yeah…that’s–that’s great,” Lucifer distractedly hums, all the while scanning around the room. Noticing this, Vaggie shared a worried look with Charlie.

“Erm, dad, she’s not here at the moment if that’s what you’re wondering,” Charlie starts, alerting her father. “Oh? Well, is she up in one of the guest rooms?” Lucifer asked, gesturing upstairs with a thumb. To his confusion, Charlie appeared somewhat nervous, her hands fidgeting with her suit. “Uh, no, she’s actually not in the hotel at the moment,” Vaggie steps in, “she’s been out doing a couple of errands for us.” Lucifer raised a brow at the slight edginess in her tone, eyes darting back and forth between the two girls. “...Um, alright. What the heck is going on right now?" He asks, pointing an accusatory finger at them both, "You guys are acting sketchy as fuck. Are you...are you guys hiding something from me?" He narrows his eyes. Charlie sucks in a breath, brows pinching together, “Well...dad, t-the thing is–”

“She’s out with Smiles right now!” Angel suddenly intervened, calling out from the other side of the room, and causing Charlie to cower and duck behind Vaggie. Lucifer felt his shoulders grow rigid. “She’s…what now?” He dangerously asks, glaring at the arachnid. Before Lucifer trudged towards the direction of the bar, the front doors of the hotel abruptly flew open. He felt the vein in his neck nearly burst at the sound of your laughter interlacing itself with that god-awful, irritating radio feedback. What a wild coincidence.

As Lucifer turned around, his eyes nearly flew out of his head as he saw how close you were with Alastor, arms basically locked together. The radio-demon was quick to meet eyes with the King, and out of spite, Alastor flashed him the biggest shit-eating grin he's ever seen.

“Oh, fuck no!”

Chapter III - Finale [x]

Thank you for reading!

#lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar

3K notes · View notes

risestarkiss · 4 months

Text

Orange, Baby!

Rise Ramblings #316

When I think about Mikey, this scene always comes to mind.

As soon as they step foot in the library to save Mayhem, Angelo instantly disqualifies himself…hilariously.

On first watch, I found it interesting that he made this decision with no hesitation, especially given the stakes.

At the time I just resigned to him being a silly silly boy, but now I know better.

Yet, before we get ahead of ourselves, let’s explore who Mikey is.

Michelangelo Hamato is the youngest turtle in the family, and it shows.

Consequently, he seems to possess a certain “youngest brother privilege" that his other brothers just can’t help but reinforce. This is the role that Mikey was born into. Therefore, he doesn’t have to push himself to be the smartest, or cleverest, or strongest turtle.

Instead, he decides to be the artist of the family. He’s a creative! He expresses himself everywhere, from stickers on his own shell, to tagging the lair, as well as on paper. The world is his canvas!

Michelangelo also expresses himself in virtually everything he does, so it’s easy to understand why he’s the most open, honest, caring, and emotionally expressive turtle of the bunch. To some it could be seen as a weakness, yet Mikey uses his emotional intelligence as a pillar of strength, of which he utilizes to uphold his brothers when they need support the most.

In the show, Michelangelo often takes on certain personas; Doctor Feelings and Doctor Delicate Touch. (For some reason, they are all doctors, but that’s beside the point.)

At first glance, the personas could be seen as silly bouts of make-believe. But I think that placing these roles upon himself for his brothers' sake is Michelangelo’s way of helping them cope with the world by offering them what they each individually lack.

For instance, Raph, Leo, and Donnie have trouble voicing their discomforts when someone does something they don’t like.

In other words, they have trouble putting their foot down.

But here is Mikey to the rescue!

Dr. Delicate Touch has no such hang-ups.

Similarly, when Donatello runs into trouble, as he is unable to recognize his own emotions, it’s up to Doctor Feelings to help his desperate client in need.

Through taking on these roles, Mikey is able to support his brothers and fill the emotional gaps in his teammates, which, inevitably makes them all stronger.

How is Mikey able to do this and how does he have the strength to take on these roles?

You could think that it’s just in his character, meaning, it’s just how he is. I don’t think so, though. He’s a free thinker, and a creative, but there’s something about these roles that is specifically catered to the needs of his family.

Then I realized, the only reason that Mikey is able to help his brothers in this way is because they first helped him.

Let me explain.

All four of the boys grew up in the same household. Although Splinter tried his very best (there is no Splinter hate here), a single depressed parent doth not a stable child make. Raphael struggled with the burden of his responsibilities as an ad hoc leader (see Being Big Red), Leo struggled with expressing his natural talents as a middle child (see Being Baby Blue), all while Donnie struggled with carving out his place on the team and his feelings of uselessness (see Being Purple Part One and Part Two).

Well, what does Mikey struggle with?

In my humble opinion, nothing.

The struggles of his brothers all related to each turtle coming to terms with themselves and coming to terms with their place on the team.

Yet, due to the love and support of his brothers and father, Michelangelo never had to ask himself if he belonged, struggle with his role on the team, or make huge life-changing decisions that could affect everyone.

Michelangelo is free to just be Michelangelo.

And as a free spirit who is completely in tune with his own emotions, he is able to do things like this:

and this,

and this.

Let’s get back to the scene in the library.

Angelo sees the high stakes of his friend’s pet disappearing forever if they fail but makes the decision to disqualify himself anyway. Why? Because he knows that no matter what he does, it will all be ok.

He has complete faith in his brothers and their ability to solve the problem at hand, so he might as well have some fun.

This not the first time he’s come to this conclusion.

Through out this entire scene, Michelangelo plays in the background.

It’s scenes like this that makes me believe that Mikey’s faith in his family knows no bounds.

Altogether, his brothers and his father were everything he needed to become who he is. Reciprocally, he is free to be everything that they need him to be and more. Over…

and over,

and over again

he trusts them completely.

And through this unwavering trust in his family, he is able to trust himself and his instincts. He knows that with everything they’ve poured into him, he can save them from, well, everything. Over…

and over…

and over again.

Hence, due to all of this evidence, I believe that through the collective love of his family, Michelangelo became the best version of the Hamato spirit, and thus, the best Mystic Warrior of all time.

All because, he’s Orange, baby!

○○○○

Previous | Being Big Red • Being Baby Blue • Being Purple ○ Part One • Being Purple ○ Part Two

Finale | Being Hamato Yoshi

3K notes · View notes

zhongrin · 2 months

Note

psssst Rin idea ehehe.... imagine having a remote control vibrator and alhaitham has the remote :))) that's it that's all bye //runs

crys.

...... must you send this while i'm on my period hauhdwhjfshdakhd

cw. minors dni, fem!reader, afab!reader, vibrator, self-indulgent shit bc i'm 1) in pain, 2) horny, and 3) just because i can. tldr; this is crys' fault /silly /lh

al haitham has your cycle memorized. it may sound like a useless thing to dedicate one of his brain cells for, but in his opinion, it really isn't. the common theories of the female hormones factors a lot into your mood and emotions, hence it makes a good tool to interpret your actions and outlines a specific guideline for him to act accordingly to make sure he continues to prove himself a suitable partner for you.

but sometimes, the man couldn't resist but just to tease you a bit.

and you look adorable in his eyes, all flushed and pouty like this.

"what's wrong? i thought someone said she wanted to 'get all the chores done before my uterus throws a tantrum for not getting to house a fetus'?" he asked, a little too nonchalantly, as he pressed buttons on the washing machine with one hand, the other sneaking into his pocket to play with the intensity of the little toy fitting snugly between your puffy folds.

"you're evil," you somehow managed to choke out, knees trembling as you held onto the edges of the sink, having to pause from cleaning the dishes at the heightened vibrations, "evil."

"that's not what you said last night with your legs wrapped around my w-"

"al haitham!!!"

"we're at home and kaveh's out to survey a project. i see no reasons for you to act unnecessarily demure."

you grumbled and muttered under your breath as you tried to wash the soap suds off the plates. a chuckle left your boyfriend's lips, and you feel a momentary relief when the buzz between your legs lessened into a hum.

key word here being 'momentary'.

you continued on ー wiping the plates dry, setting them onto the drying rack… as you reached out to open the cupboard drawer, the devil whispering in your beloved's ears seemed to have won the silent battle within his mind, for the bullet-shaped contraption seemed to increase in intensity with every seconds that passed. higher. higher. higher.

"h-haith- oh- fuck-" the quiver in your voice was palpable; arms steadying yourself onto the counter in a hurry. you were sure the dampness would have shown over your shorts by now; he'd been playing with that remote all morning, and it was driving you nuts.

perhaps it was that very desperation that prompted you to turn towards him with a pair of pleading eyes. perhaps it was your hormones going haywire that made you latch onto him and whine like a bunny in heat, your hands roaming across broad muscles, hips canting towards the growing bulge beneath those grey sweatpants.

oh, you really, truly look adorable when you were insatiably horny, he thought.

"…. fine. consider it my duty to finish the chores later," lush greens zeroes on the trickle of slick slipping down your thigh, the swipe of his tongue across his lips unconscious yet felt like added desire into your already heated loins.

"for now, i suppose your duty is to be thoroughly spoiled by me."

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #al haitham x reader #al haitham #rin writes #minors dni #rin answers #rin is having tea with: crys 🧡

772 notes · View notes

risuola · 12 days

Text

▶ BOYFRIENDS — two is better than one.

contents: college+roommates!au, alcohol consumption, college party kind of situation, groping mentioned — wc. 845

a/n: you were voting in the poll and picked the stsg protecting the reader from the drunk so there we go! our boys making sure we're safe!

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

“C’mon cutie, it’s jus’ a dance.”

You’re far from being a mind reader. Sometimes you struggle with getting the point of something someone is telling you straight on, but this time you were sure it wasn’t a dance the man wanted from you.

A thick stench of alcohol saturated the air whenever he was leaning towards you, rendering the oxygen useless because you’d rather suffocate than introduce that toxic waste into your lungs. You were trapped, between the counter in a small, dorm kitchen and a guy you recognized from a sport’s team popular in your college. He’s not the top dog, average at most, but famous nonetheless and apparently such condition turned his ears deaf to any sort of refusal. The small of your back burned in the place where he glued his hand and it wasn’t a pleasant type of burn.

“I’m not gonna dance with you, get away, creep,” you scoffed, frowning upon the stubborn behavior and pressing the open palm of your hand against his chest, trying to put your strength against his own. No luck there, he didn’t budge the slightest.

“Hard to get, huh? I like that,” he grinned and next thing you noticed was a hand on your butt, squeezing the flesh like an orange. You flinched at the feeling, digging your nails into his forearm, doing about as much damage as a little kitten. That’s why you didn’t like college parties. “You sure are a feisty one, aren’t you?”

“Get. Off.” A groan left your throat and your fist clenched to your side. A knee itched to meet his crotch, a drink in your hand begged to be spilled over his stupid face and wash off his stupid smile, maybe even refresh his stinky breath a little.

You thought about violence, your body tensed and muscles contracted, getting ready for a strike, but then, you heard a hum. Soft, melodic, like a cotton and silk, soothing your nerves and making you relax. The sound made you stop; it made the drunk stop as well and your position shifted.

“Does my beautiful mochi have a problem here?”

You could physically feel how Satoru removed the unwanted hand from your rear and the wince on the boy’s face in front of you told you his grip was much heavier than the tone of his voice suggested. Then, your friend wrapped his arms around your waist, effectively pulling you out of the toxic orbit; your back met his wide chest and his chin dropped to rest on your shoulder. His bright blue eyes sized the guy in front of you from above the dark shades he wore that night and you noticed him smiling. It was confident, it was judging and so very challenging. You could tell he wished to get down and dirty with the drunk.

“And you are—?”

“Her boyfriend. Back off.”

“Boyfriend, huh? Bullshit,” the boy scoffed, clearly unable to comprehend the danger he put himself in. He hiccupped drunkenly and then found Suguru in the crowd, pointing at him. “That bitch told my friend her boyfriend is that guy.”

Satoru hummed again, amused, and then chuckled vividly. You felt his embrace tightening protectively around you and his fluffy hair tickling the side of your face. As if summoned, Geto made his way towards you and soon he joined your other side.

“Suguru, this guy over there called our girlfriend a bitch and dared to lay a hand over her ass,” Gojo painted the picture with a sweetly threatening tone and even pouted a little for the added effect.

“Oh yeah?” Brunette mused, raising an eyebrow and you heard a soft crack of his bones when he tilted his head to one side and then the other, stretching his neck. Oh, how menacing. “It can’t be.”

You watched as confusion washed over the features in front of you. The guy was drunk, but it seemed as if the dots were finally connecting in his brain, as if the message was reaching and realization was sinking in — very likely the sound of Suguru’s cracking knuckles made the process much more quick and efficient.

And he crumbled.

The boy shrunk under the set of gazes and tensed atmosphere. Mumbling something incoherent, he backed off, grabbing a can of beer on his way as if pretending to not be bothered when very visibly he was.

You sighed.

An exhale of relief made you wilt a little inside the protective embrace of Satoru’s arms. You felt your body relaxing.

“Thank you. He was damn persistent,” you addressed your friends, smoothing over the hands snaked around your waist and looking up at Suguru.

“Always,” brunette smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, while Satoru nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck. Then he bit you, of course he did, but this time you let it slip.

“I’d be persistent too if I saw those tits unattended,” the snow-white mumbled, and Geto immediately nagged him, causing the dramatic roll of blue eyes.

You, on the other hand, laughed.

Those idiots.

taglist: @kibananya @r0ckst4rjk @rixo-19 @soraya-daydreams@hyun0200 @ilykii @roscpctals99 @mushkasstuff @siimp4youu @juicedcherry @themoreeviltwin @stevenknightmarc @ms5m1th @local-mr-frog @minimorale @lansy-4 @dancer545

475 notes · View notes

sunnymoonxx · 1 year

Note

can you write something like hobie ‘using’ reader (consensually ofc) and degrading her? no pressure if it’s too much :) thank youuu 🩷

cold rings | hobie brown x fem!reader

pairing: hobie brown x fem!reader

summary: porn without a plot

warnings: degradation, objefixation (mentions of being used), rough sex, little praising, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it kids), oral fem receiving, oral male receiving, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, hair pulling, teasing

author's note: First thing, I'd love to thank @hanasnx for correcting me and apologise for not crediting him first. I took a big inspiration from Indy's oneshot Moth To A Flame (Hobie Brown), and I definitely recommend you check out his blog out. I adore their writing <333

I solemnly believe Hobie is a sweetheart and a sub and loves to watch you do anything to him, but since he's a punk, there's a high chance he's into BDSM. Also, he was finally confirmed to be 20, so we're the same age woohoouu. Enjoy my try for a readable smut <333

m.list

You laid in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, shivering slightly as the chilly weather crept into your room, but the warm sunset light falling into your window provided some solace. You wrapped yourself tighter in the blankets, leaning your body towards the tall figure sitting next to you.

The spikes on his bracelet met your skin, cold to the touch as he wrapped his arm around you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. You could feel his chin on the top of your head, pulling you closer to him, relaxing in his arms. He was warm, and the cold quickly left your body. You smiled, closing your eyes right before his hand slipped down your body to play with the hem of your tank top, twisting it between his fingers.

You couldn't bother to wear anything else than lavender-colored panties and a black tank top that didn't reach further than your ribs. You couldn't judge Hobie after he made fun of you for being cold. It was purely just your fault.

"Didn't Jess want us to be at the HQ by dusk?" You mumbled into Hobie's shoulder, carefully scanning his long fingers, now outlining the fabric of your panties, tickling your lower stomach.

"Prolly," he responded, you could hear him smiling while answering you. You knew Hobie for too long to know he doesn't do anything he's told to do. Unless it's you. Any words that come from your mouth, he is determined to fulfill. "Rather be with you, tho." Kissing the top of your head, his hand moved back up to sweep the hair strands falling into your eyes.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, lifting yourself on your arms to take a proper look at your companion. His legs manspreading on your bed like he owns the place, his right arm still laid out on the headboard, and a smirk on his lips. You had to hold back a smile, biting your cheek, and looking into his big brown eyes.

"Miguel will beat your ass," you uttered, sitting straight, your knees bent under you and touching his. "And mine." You added not amused by the boredom in his expression. You shared his annoyance towards the Spider Society, but you didn't want to get your ass beaten by a big-ass leader whose claws could tear anyone apart. You already tested his patience last time, and you weren't in the mood for another discussion of how useless you are.

"Babe, don't worry about it," He saw your smiley expression turn into a face of concern and decided to comfort you. He threw himself away from the board leaning towards you, grabbing your hands in his and caressing your palm with his thumb. "S'gon be okay and also, when did a little trouble scare you?" he tilted his head, awaiting your reaction.

"Never," you shook your head, adding a dramatic tone to your voice. You leaned to give Hobie a quick kiss on his lips before jumping out of the bed and walking around the room to find your suit. "But I don't wanna be sent home just because I didn't meet his stupid deadlines, Hobes." You spoke, bending down to open a box with your suit in it. Wrinkled and dirty from the last mission, you totally forgot to clean it. But this time, it was Hobie's fault after he dragged you into his place after you finished your mission to release some steam. He was partly the reason why your suit was torn up in certain places.

Hobie leaned back again against the headboard, arms behind his head as he enjoyed the view of you bending down, your panties barely covering your ass.

"I'll make you your own watch," he uttered, not taking his eyes off you as you turned around to face him, throwing your suit on the bed. "Let him kick you out, and we can visit each other any day." A smile played across his lips as he crawled to you, towering over you, and pulling you closer to him by holding your waist. You could feel his breath because of how close he was and his cold rings touching your lower back. You couldn't smile at his idea, lips forming into a light smile. You wanted to protest and say you can't afford it, but he shut you up by leaning into you, his lips meeting your ear. "I'd finally have proper time to take care of you," he whispered into your ear, his hand sliding down to grab your ass. Chills traveled down your spine as you heard his voice and the cold jewelry on his hands meeting your ass.

You couldn't help but moan at his action and be rewarded by Hobie's cocky smile and his hands traveling under your panties to hold your bare ass properly. As many times as Hobie touched you, it always felt like the first time. His long, slim fingers slid down your skin, playing with the hem of your clothes, playing with your hair, or fingering you while lying beneath him. You always ended up begging for more, and he devoured every sound you made.

Words began to form on your tongue but quickly again disappeared when Hobie attacked your neck and started leaving light kisses on your skin. You leaned into his touch, mind blank, forgetting about the suit ready on your bed, and Jess probably waiting for the both of you to show up. Now, all your thoughts were full of Hobie's lips, already on your collarbones, and his fingers still holding your ass.

"Hobie," a moan left your lips as he moved his hand up to pull away the straps of your tank top down your shoulders. He stopped all his movements, looking up at you with concern in his eyes. You bent down to give him a proper kiss, pushing him back against the mattress, your weight falling on his. Both of you let out a surprised gasp, his hands grabbing you more tightly than before.

"I'll stay," you whispered against his lips, lifting yourself to sit on your knees on his lap while he laid beneath you. You could see the sudden change in his face, a smile glowing on his lips. "But," He raised his eyebrows, confused and waiting for what you were about to say. His hands moved back to hold your ass, your already wet core so close to his reach.

"Remember last time? At the dorm?" you asked, hoping he'd remembered. But you doubted he would forget you beginning as he pounded into you against the wall and called you names, you'd be too ashamed to admit you like being called.

As expected, he tilted his head, scanning your face to find out if you were joking. When he decided you were not, he nodded his head. "Could never forget that," he joked, gripping your ass harder and pushing you against his growing crotch, gasp leaving your mouth.

You bent down, hands on his chest as you whispered against his full lips, your teeth gently tugging on his cold piercing. "I want you to do it again. Use me like you did back then." You closed your eyes as you felt his lips move against yours, his hands moving up to hold your waist.

"You sure?" he asked gently, wanting to know you're certain about your wish. You didn't waste any second and gripped his shirt, pulling yourself closer to his body. Hoping that serves as an answer.

You felt Hobie smile against you as the kiss deepened, growing more passionate and fuller of desire. You needed to feel his touch, his tongue, his fingers, his cold rings against your skin.

"Hobes, please," you whispered as his hands slipped up your tank top, caressing the skin of your underboob, teasing you. Testing how much you can take. His other hand traveled from your waist to find your hair, pulling them down so he could have more access to your neck. You let out a moan as he kept pulling your hair, holding your head thrown back. His lips attached to your neck, leaving wet trails as he moved down slowly.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice deeper and more demanding. It made your walls clench over nothing. His hand under your tank top finally moved up, your hard nipple meeting his cold rings. You gasped, closing your eyes, digging your nails into his thighs. His thumb ran over your nipple while still assaulting your neck with painfully slow kisses.

"Touch me, please." You begged between moans before you felt Hobie's lips move away from your neck and let off your hair. His brown eyes, now darker than a few minutes before, pupils dilated, stared back into yours, a smirk playing on his face.

"Barely done anything, and you're so needy already." Tilting his head, holding back a smile. His gaze fell, where your crotch met his, thoughts playing in his head.

"Pathetic," he mumbled to himself before grabbing you by the waist and throwing you under him, your back meeting your soft mattress. Hair spread on the bedsheets; legs spread for Hobie to fit in between. Your tank top slid up, exposing half of your boobs and if Hobie looked down, he could've seen the wet spot between your legs.

"You look a fucking mess." You watched him draw his fingers alongside your tank top, moving them down to meet the lace of your panties. You waited patiently for his next move, moving your hips against his hand for some friction. But he caught your action and pulled his hands away. You rolled your eyes at the frustration, pushing away the desire to finish this by yourself. But you asked for this, and Hobie always respected your wishes. No matter how twisted they were.

"Hobie, please just," Your tone was filled with annoyance, which made Hobie laugh, admiring how needy and beautiful you were for him. Lying there, leg spread out, tits out, waiting to be fucked like a whore.

"I'm gonna do what I want," he grabbed your cheeks, eyes staring into your soul. "And you will take it." His dominant voice traveled straight to your core, wanting nothing else than to be filled by him. Nodding your head, you didn't protest and let Hobie place his fingers back on your skin, teasing you for minutes before his fingers finally landed at your inner thighs. You were now sure he saw how wet you are, dripping through the panties.

"Fuck," he let out a sigh when he saw the mess you made on your underwear. "You're so predictable." His laugh filled the room followed by a gasp when his fingers touched your clothed cunt.

"D'you like it?" He raised his eyebrows, not taking his eyes off of your cunt. You nodded to answer his question, gripping the bed sheet from the frustration you felt. If Hobie won’t pleasure in the next few minutes you swear you were going to go crazy and do it yourself. Your irritation wasn’t hard to see and Hobie decide to spare you from the torture. You could barely catch him kneeling and ripping of your panties, throwing them away to the pile of clothes from earlier days. Your wet cunt now revealed to him and exposed to the chilly air in the room.

“Fuck,” he breathed out his hands spreading your legs further from each other. You lifted your head to watch him, finding him laying between your legs and taking one of his bigger rings, holding it between his thumb and his middle finger. You were confused at first as to why he took it off until you felt him slide it down your dripping clit. The coldness of the ring sent shivers down your spine and made you tremble.

“Jesus, Hobie.” You gasped, his cold ring still touching your slit. Head falling into the pillows you let yourself relax while Hobie kept working on your cunt with his ring. You could feel his breath, his lips, and his tongue so close to your soaked clit.

Hobie liked seeing you struggle under his touch, but he couldn’t feel sad for torturing you, so he quickly pressed his lips against you, drawing a moan out of you. He could drown between your legs, thighs crushing him. As if you already weren’t a mess, he added a finger, circling your wet core to coax it to loosen. “When you’re away I daydream about this.” His deep voice sent vibrations through your cunt, making you groan his name out. He took advantage of you being distracted by his words to shove his finger inside of you, your moans spreading across the room. His tongue stopped the movements on your clit, quickly being replaced by his thumb. As much as he loved tasting you and devouring your cunt, he wanted to watch you quiver underneath him. Under his fingers. So needy to be fulfilled.

Adding another finger to stretch you out, you grab his arm to stable yourself as your eye roll to the back of your head, overwhelmed by his finger pumping in and out of you. “Like it? Fucking your cunt with my fingers?” he asked, mockingly, smiling at you trembling, all because of his fingers.

“Yes, fuck.” You cried out, Hobie’s fingers speeding, curing inside of you hitting all the right stops. He was sure people outside the apartment could hear your cries, and he loved the idea of them knowing you were getting fucked and used by him. All his to take.

“So desperate,” he laughs at you, stopping his fingers but leaving them inside of you. Your head flew up, your face filled with confusion and frustration. You were so close, he could feel it, but he decided to let you cum only around his cock. He made the decisions tonight. You did as he said.

Without answering he took you by the waist and turned you around, on all fours, ass up. You tried to calm your breath and compose yourself, mad he didn’t let you cum. You felt the heat in your stomach fading away as you waited for Hobie to take you. You practically begged for him, crying for his dick to fill you up.

“Music to my ears.” He whispered into your ear, moving back behind you, admiring the view. Your ass ready to be fucked, your cunt wet, walls clenching around nothing. “All mine,” he murmured, and you could hear him playing with his belt, his pants falling to the floor.

“Yours.” You confirmed, resting your head on your hands, pleading for him to finally fuck you and use your cunt like he did many nights ago. You know he’s just toying with you, testing your patience which is about to run out. You hear his silent laugh and the next thing you know; his cock is spreading you out, deep inside of your cunt. The delicious stretch draws a moan out of you, your head covered in the pillows.

He waits for a few seconds, letting you adjust him before he starts thrusting into you, slowly starting to pick up speed. His hands on your waist, cold rings touching your skin, and his cock buried deep inside of you.

“Fuck, could do this all day.” He moans, his thrusts becoming faster and rougher. "Feels good?" he asks as he leans in to grab your hair and pull it back. "Getting fucked by me." He continues, not stopping fucking you hard, his thick cock spreading you out, tears streaming down your face from the pleasure. You couldn't even speak, as his cock kept sliding in and out of you, only focused on how good he felt inside of you.

"Like being used by me, huh." He knew you loved it. He knew how much you liked being called degradatory names, letting him spread your cunt and fuck you senseless. One of your favorite thing to do.

"Yes, Hobie," you screamed out as his cock hit your cervix hard, deeper now than ever before. His one hand still pulls your hair as his other keep your ass in place so he can pound into you like crazy. "Fucking love it when you use me like that." You let out between moans, closing your eyes,

"Fucking whore," He doesn't stop as he slides his finger under your belly to feel himself in you. The pressure of it makes your walls clench, orgasm approaching. You don't even notice his hand moves down until you feel him rubbing your sensitive clit. You were still so wet, basically dripping to the bedsheets.

"Such a good whore for taking my cock like that," he says out loud, pulling you up to press your back against his chest. His hand quickly travels up to hold your bouncing tits, playing with your nipples as he fucks into you deeper, knowing he's gonna cum soon too. "Your pussy feels so good around me." Whispering in your ear, biting into your earlobe. His cold piercing tickles your neck, making you shiver. You feel overstimulated, but it only brings you closer to your peak.

"Your fucking whore. Fuck me like your personal toy." Tears coming down from your eyes, enjoying the way Hobie fucks you like you're his personal sex toy. Like you're his possession and only he can fuck you like that.

"That's right, you're mine. Mine to take and fuck." He growls into your ear, his thrusts becoming sloppy, alerting you he's close to orgasm. And you are too, as your knees start to give up and your body weakens, under Hobie's restless cock spreading you out fast and hard.

"Fill me up, Hobie." As on command, he cums into you, filling you up with his seed. You follow him right after, falling back to your bed, letting the pleasure take over. Hobie doesn't hold you anymore and lets your knees give up on you. His cum dripping down from your cunt mixed with your own. Ass red, hair, messy, and nail marks on your hips. Marked as his. Mark as his to take.

You lay there for a few minutes, the body still trembling from the hard orgasm, until you feel Hobie fall next to you, cloth in his hands. He also looks tired, his cheeks red and eyes lighter now. You lift yourself to move closer to him, your lips meeting his.

"Thank you, Hobes." Smiling against his lips, you feel his hand move to your lower back.

"Ask more often, please. Feels fucking awesome." He jokes, now playing with your sweaty hair, which reminds him. "Look like shit, we need a shower."

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #into the spiderverse #beyond the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman #spider punk #hobie brown x you #hobie brown smut #smut #spiderman itsv #hobie brown atsv #atsv x reader

3K notes · View notes

zablife · 4 months

Text

Seamstress, Secretary, Sex-worker, Spy

John x female reader

Summary: You've been seen with John numerous times and now the Shelby family is getting suspicious. Who are you and what's your true relationship to John?

Author’s Note: This was requested by a lovely anon. Tysm for the idea! I hope you don't mind that I wrote them as headcanons. I haven't had much time for full fics recently.

Warnings: language, mention of smut

🌹The first time someone sees you with John you're collecting the laundry, a large basket at your hip piled high with all his unwashed shirts. "Have we got a new washerwoman in town, Charlie?" Curly asks, scratching his head as he sees you passing on the street.

"Don't look like any washerwoman I ever saw," Charlie says ogling you.

💌The second time, you're in the betting shop, nibbling on the end of a pencil as you think of a clever note to leave on John’s desk. Linda rolls her eyes as she complains, "Perfect, they've sent me another useless idiot who can't do simple maths." When you disappear, she assumes you quit. "Thanks be to Jesus for that," she mutters under her breath.

❤️ The third time your presence is much harder to miss, a sharp cry of pleasure erupting from the snug in the Garrison. "Has John got a whore in there?" Isaiah asked, turning to Finn with a wicked smirk. Their suspicions seemed to be confirmed when you left minutes later, money in hand and a smoldering kiss to send you on your way.

🌹 The mystery of your presence remains in the following days and soon Tommy becomes suspicious as well. “I knew he was spending too much time in Solomons’ territory,” he grumbles, pacing the floor of his office. “What if that dodgy fucker sent her here?"

"A spy?" Polly chuckles as she leans back in her chair.

"Why not use a pretty girl to turn his head?," Tommy reasoned with a huff of frustration. When she rolled her eyes in return he shouted, "Everyone knows John thinks with his cock!"

💌 The family meeting begins without John who appears twenty minutes late, stuffing his shirt into the back of his trousers. Running to the meeting from your arms is difficult enough, but now the entire family is boring holes into him, expecting an explanation. When they begin telling him of their suspicions, his mouth drops open.

"You being serious, Tom?" he asks. "All of you?" he looks around the room aghast. Slowly everyone nods. "Bloody hell..." his voice drops as removes his cap and drops into a chair crestfallen.

❤️ Polly begins to look worried, leaning forward at the table to ask, "John, if this girl is going to be trouble, we need to know."

"Always thinking the worst, ain't ya?" he answers bitterly. Then he shakes his head with a little laugh, which angers Arthur first.

"You fucking laughing at us? Finn and Isaiah saw you pay the little tart! What's that about, eh?" he grumbles, anger contorting his face.

"What the fuck did you call her?" John seethes, lunging for his brother. A scuffle breaks out between them which Tommy and Uncle Charlie have to stop before either of them can land a punch.

🌹 John straightens his clothes as he begins, "Yeah, she's my girl. But she ain't a whore and she ain't a spy for Alfie fucking Solomons either alright? Moved to Saltley two years ago with her mum. I had it checked out....'M not as stupid as everyone thinks." He sniffs and takes a look around the room to see disbelief still hanging in the air. "Why is that so hard for you to believe?"

Polly places a hand on his arm, "We're listening, go on."

💌John's eyes soften as he speaks of you. "She takes care of me, does the laundry and shopping, leaves me kind notes..." Eyes glazing slightly at the memory he turns to Arthur adding, "Sucks me dry, I swear to God. Yesterday I thought--"

"We believe you," Polly interjects with a firm nod. Turning to her other nephew she states, "Tommy, I think this item of business is closed."

❤️ You're invited to the next family dinner as a way to placate John, but also for the others to get to know you. When they do, they adore you instantly and John is rightfully vindicated. "Shouldn't have doubted me," John reminds them.

"I know. I was wrong to say you were only thinking with your cock," Tommy apologizes.

"No, I was thinking with me cock, but for once it was the right decision," John admits with a wink.

------------------

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@wandawiccan60

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@christinasyellowflowers

@notyour-valentine

@theshelbyclan

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@lyarr24

@jomarch-wannabe

@the-fangirl-diaries

@kmc1989

@everythingelseisextra

@stilestotherescue

@helen06dreamer

@chaosinkest1996

@pietroxreader

@darklydeliciousdesires

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@cillmequick

@runnning-outof-time

@dandelionprints

@peakyltd

@call-sign-shark

@brummiereader

@holacia3

@kmhappybunny240

@mgcldydrms

@mythos-writes

@look-at-the-soul

#John Shelby fanfic #John Shelby imagine #John Shelby x you #John Shelby x y/n #John Shelby x reader #John Shelby

680 notes · View notes

uvuyai · 4 months

Text

ძᥲᥡ 2 ~ һᥙmіᥣіᥲ𝗍і᥆ᥒ + 𝗍ᥡіᥒg ᥙ⍴ [EVENT]

Yandere! Blade x FEM! Reader

–genre. Smut, nsfw

–tw. Blood, skin carving, humiliation, skin writing, non-con, creampie, sadist!blade, spanking, porn with plot(maybe), size difference, stomach bulge, choking, overstimulation, possessive behaviors, blade is called ren, mentions of the hard R in the beginning, neglect, degradation, reader is blades reincarnated lover, prone bone, MINORS DNI, non consensual touching, nipple play, SW and Kafka is helping blade, headlocking, dub-con, blood,

–synopsis. You've been kidnapped by the swordsman of the Stellaron Hunters and brought to their headquarters. It's Valentine's Day and he planned something special.

Mari/yai's message – just know i was very uncomfortable with writing this. I've been drawing lately so it's been a while.

You were tied up in the basement of the Stellaron Hunters headquarters. You were just walking down the streets of luofu till you were grabbed into an alleyway and a cloth covering your mouth and then you inhaled chloroform, passing out into the person's(or thing) arm. When your captor brought you back to where they lived, they introduced themselves as Blade but he told you to call him ren.

Blade. As in the wanted criminal and part of the Stellaron Hunters?

After a while he got tired of your useless attempts at escaping (mostly snitched on by Kafka or Silverwolf by telling blade you escaped.), and then forcefully forced himself onto you. After that he left you.

He would come back occasionally if Kafka told him so if he didn't want you to die. He would bring you clothes and food to keep you alive and helped you take care of your hygiene. You didn't eat in front of him and just pretend to be asleep most of the time in the corner of the mattress.

You tried talking to him but couldn't since your stuttering held you back and you couldn't make eye contact with him since he fiery red eyes would stare into your soul, stunning it immediately.

He brought you stuff like a note book to draw or use it as a diary. Since you barely could get your words out, you wrote ‘Why did you kidnap me?’ on a page. He only muttered the word “Lover” and left it at that.

Well today was Valentine's day as you'd know by the calendar beside your bed. You still didn't love him or let yourself develop Stockholm Syndrome. If you could tell, he hated it.

You behaved well for the days, months, or even years he captured you. He let you out of your ropes and lets you walk around the basement. Various furniture was added like a desk that faced a window(that was very hard to break), a bed set, and a built in shower.

Silver Wolf gave the glory to Blade that he can have one of her old games but he decided to give it to you so you wouldn't be as bored when he went.

Kafka came down and called out for you. You raised your head from your pillow and looked at her with sleepy doe eyes. “C'mon dearie, Blade will be home soon and he has something planned for you.” she grabbed your forearm and dragged you to the bathroom and ran you a bath as if you were her child. She helped you shave your legs(and everywhere else including pubic) and did your hair into something simple. She gave you pink Valentine's Day themed lingerie undergarments to put underneath the white lace night gown.

You wished you knew why Blade suggested Kafka to give you this. The clothes fit you nicely. Your mind was all over the place as you thought about how Blade got the correct measurements of your bra and panties.

Kafka led you out of the bathroom and back to your bed and went back up stairs and came back down with a low black gift box. She skied the top off the box to reveal red ribbons. The box was branded so it must've been from a sex store or somewhere that was expensive. You thought it was for your hair otherwise it's weird to come in a box like that.

Kafka placed her hands behind her back and closed her eyes and let out a pitiful sigh. “I'm sorry, dear.” Before you could turn around something rough and hard hit the back of your head. It put you to sleep on impact.

She dragged your body to your bed and threw you on your bed, grabbing the ribbon and tied it tightly around your legs and wrist. The extras went around your waist and torso. You were truly a beautiful doll. She wrapped soft cloth around your mouth and eyes. Just breathe through

She left the room and as if on cue, Blade stepped through the door. In his deep voice, he spoke. “Did you do what I asked?” Kafka nodded her head and gave off her signature smile. “I did but I had to neutralize her because she was struggling too much for my comfort.” she was obviously lying. He could obviously tell too.

He stepped his way to the basement where you were. He heard distant whimpering and sobs which were coming from you. He reached you and noticed your squirming. Your breath hitched as you heard boots stepping your way. The ribbons were hurting way too much to even ignore for a bit.

“Hey waterlily, It's really disappointing how you didn't behave for her.” he breathed. “You should be punished for that. I see she did most of the work.” you heard something slam on the nightstand next to your bed.

He hooked his finger underneath the blindfold to reveal your doe stricken eyes.

His lips lifted into a smirk while he trailed his bandaged fingers from your face to your collarbone. He noticed your squirming got more vapid. You shook your head as you didn't want him to continue.

His hand ripped the strap that was holding the gown, revealing your covered breast. Your face felt as if it was burning from embarrassment. He pushed you onto your back and got on top of you. Your muffled protests became unheard as he grabbed scissors and cut the straps from your bra, removing it, and revealing your tits.

“You look like a slut... Begging for someone's attention.” he laughed. “That someone's attention you want is me.” he dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a knife and a permanent marker.

He slid the knife down your torso, the force was enough for it to draw blood. He leaned down and lapped at the blood while maintaining eye contact with you. Tears ran down your face and dried ones were replaced.

He fully discarded your dress and panties and threw them somewhere on the bed or ground. He used his gloved hand to finger you. Your slick immediately gathering on his hand. “Has all this fear got to you? I would've mistaken you for being a masochist, y'know.”

He unbuckled his pants and slid down his boxers that revealed his large, thick throbbing dick. It was flushed red at the tip and a white bead of precum was drooling from the slit. He thrusted two fingers into your cunt. He wanted to prep you since it's been a while since he had done anything with you. The stimulation was overwhelming. You desperately tried to kick him away but he grabbed your waist and replaced his finger with his dick rubbing against your pussy. Your juices covered the downside of his dick.

He leaned back to position his dick between your pussy lips. He thrusted up into your pussy, hitting your spongy spot on impact. A little blood covered his dick as well. A bulge would pop up with each thrust of his hips. Your scream was muffled and you leaned your head back on the pillow. You were biting at the cloth that was covering your mouth. It was covered in your saliva as well.

Blade hooked a finger underneath the cloth and pulled it down. Your breathing was harsh in a way that if it was cold, air would come from your mouth. As his thrusts started to pick up and your juices webbed his whole dick, he picked the knife back up and started to engrave a letter below your tits. The letter was his initial, the letter ‘B’. The icy hot pain was all over your body(it wasn't but it felt like it but mainly between your thighs), Blade licked the blood up, enjoying the metallic iron taste from it. His dick landed painful hits to your cervix, making you grimace at the feeling.

During that, yelps, whines, and moans were heard through the basement. If you were loud enough, Kafka and Silver Wolf would hear.

His thrust got more erratic. His thrusts were sure that by the time he finished your pussy would be gapping open and molded into the shape of his cock. You tried to cover your moans by turning your head to the side and trying to muffle them as much as possible. Blade was quick to grab your face, squishing your cheeks together as he got up in your face while looking at your unfocused eyes filled with tears. He trailed his eyes down back to where he drew the letter below your tits.

He slowly itched a small cross(which was a plus sign,) and after a while, he carved your first name initials after. It looked like those cheesy trends where it shows what initials are meant to be for example; B + Y. He did all of this while keeping his thrusts while you squirted your juices onto his lower abdomen and cock. He grabbed the permanent marker and drew a small heart around the heart.

He grabbed you by the shoulders and squished you against his chest. He rocked his hips back and forth and wrapped his arm around your waist to keep you steady. “You are such a slut. Nothing but my cum dump.” The cold permanent marker touched your skin, sending shivers down your spine and to your core. He wrote a few words like “CUMDUMP”, ”SLUT”, and “Blades/ren's property” on your back. He placed a few humiliating words on your collarbone so anyone could see it and also remind him what you are to him.

You pussy clenched around his dick, signaling your. “You wanna cum, yeah? Then cum. Cum for me.” he said between grunts. Your string of moans and mewls of being overstimulated, he released his cum inside you. Your stomach was slightly bloated and thick, sticky cum leaked out of your cunt and onto the bedsheets(it had little bubbles in them and stuck together like a spider web).

Blade was quick to flip you onto your stomach with your ass in the air. He grabbed the knife and released your wrist from the ropes binding them together. Your wrists were finally able to breathe. His rough hands grab at your wrist, pulling them to make you arch your back further.

He angled his cock back at your entrance, pushing his hips forward and his cum and your juices acting together as a secondary lube. The movement of his hips grew faster as time passed.

He leaned down to where his chest was touching your back. He resumed his torcher and thrust into you so hard he could break into your cervix and split you apart. His hand snaked up to your neck, squeezing it slightly so it wasn't hard enough to stop your breath. He used it to angle your head so he could kiss you. You moaned into his mouth and drooled all over his tongue.

His thrust started to get sloppy and he felt your breath get harsher from you breathing through your mouth. He wrapped both of his thick bulging arms around your neck, placing you in a loose headlock. A hand slipped down and tugged at your nipple. You released the kiss as you tried to get your breath back by sticking your tongue out. He placed a loud smack on your ass which made you come on his dick, stunning you.

He came inside you for the second time. You don't know how long he'll be doing this for as you feel his dick hardened inside you.

;(

#𓆩ri.𓆪 #✉️.txt #[ ♪o(〃＾▽＾〃)o♪ ]#✎ suggestive 𓆪 #𓆩!smutty.𓆪 #✎ yandere #𓆩ri.txt📝𓆪 #yandere x reader #yandere smut #blade x reader #blade smut #blade x reader smut #honkai blade x reader #yandere blade #yandere blade x reader #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #✎ characters from other clubs #[ .nsfw ]

717 notes · View notes

crimsonbubble · 1 year

Text

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, primal play, biting (no paralyzing venom this time), blood kink, poorly translated spanish, strength kink, size kink, tummy bulge, clit play, praise, degradation, creampie *not proofread, just pure horny

[I just know he loves a chase especially when you reward him so handsomely 🙈🙈]

MINORS DNI!!

you can hear your own heart thrumming in your ears, the adrenaline made your blood run hot. you can't see him, but you know he's got his eyes on you. so the only thing you can do to keep running is know that eventually, he'll get tired of just watching from the sidelines and finally take you for himself just like you want him to.

and once he is done keeping a watchful eye on you, he stands tall in front of you. your eyes don't register him until you're crashing into him and landing on the ground. your eyes flicker between his as you scramble backward. Miguel is quick to grab your ankles, pulling you back to him harshly.

his talons tear apart your suit, exposing your wet heat to the frigid air. his talons dig into the flesh of your thighs as he pulls you back further. he messily pumps his throbbing cock, parting your folds with his swollen tip. your try to stifle your cries, your legs twitching as Miguel sets a brutal pace from the start.

with a rough hand, he grabs your wrists and pins them to the floor. your body is rendered useless as Miguel pins your wrists while making a bigger mess of your sloppy pussy. "fuck.. look at how wet you are. making such a fucking mess." the near growl in his voice as he speaks sends shocks down your spine.

breathy moans leave his parted lips as he leans down, close to your neck. you feel his fangs nick at your skin, as his tongue laps at the small cuts. your back bows as he presses your hips to the floor, his hand moving from your hip to press against the bump he makes in your stomach.

each time your tightened and clenched around him made him grunt and snap his hips into you even harder. your hands are balled into fists as you squeeze your thighs around him. "te gusta eso, cariño? of course you do, you whore." your eyes are blurring with tears as his pace works into a punishing one.

you're mumbling incoherently as Miguel brings his hand down to bump against your clit. you're so close to shattering. your sopping cunt gushing around him. Miguel is quick to rub your clit in small and tight circles. the way his cock rubs against your walls so deliciously added on the the quick flicks of his thumb on your clit, have your mind going blank as you shudder in his hold.

"oh mierda. you're clenching so fucking tight." his chest is heaving just as hard as yours, his hips stuttering as his cock twitches inside you. "puedes tomarlo. so fucking good for me." his bites his lip as his body tensed and goes still. your body is quivering against his. your cunt is pulsing as he spills his cum deep into your messy pussy.

once the ringing in your ears subsided, you try to pull your hands away from Miguel; only for him to tighten his grip on your wrists. he lets out a low growl, barring his sharp teeth. that's when you feel it; he's still hard. his cock still throbs and pulses as he leans up, nipping and mouthing at your neck.

"no vas a ninguna parte, cariño. not until I'm done."

#bubbly writes <3 #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader smut #miguel o'hara imagines #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you

2K notes · View notes

hydemenot · 6 months

Text

OLD HABITS DIE HARD — theodore n.

➠ a month may be short for a relationship but it was enough for you to grow into an inescapable habit.

before reading : i just want to clarify that i believe smoking is a big deal and still is a form of addiction no matter how glorified it is. symptoms mentioned below are based on personal experiences so don't be mean.

the sounds of scattering feet fills the cold morning of the first day of the winter inside hogwarts. from the astronomy tower, cheery voices echoed into your ears and left immediately to the other afterwards, somehow adding to your current mellow dramatics: brooding. your robe turned useless to block the freezing air from making contact with your skin. clutching the thick cloth of your jacket, you let your other hand lean onto the cold rail that kept you from tipping over.

winter has come and most students are off to hogsmeade or packing up their bags for their well deserved break. you'd do either one but wallowing in self pity felt more fitting for you. it's been a week or two since your relationship with theodore nott, one of the infamous slytherin in hogwarts, ended and you weren't taking it well. surprisingly, the break up didn't involve crying, screaming, casting crucio on each other than you expected to be; it ended with a single conversation of how theo believed he's in a point in his life at the moment where he couldn't continue caring for himself, let alone for you.

( "can we talk for a second?" theo's hand wraps around yours, pulling you away from the conversation with your friends. "somewhere private, preferably." his words remained nowhere far from a whisper, eyes boring into yours. you're not sure what expression you made but it seems it's enough of a response for theo to just pull you away even further, not even saying a goodbye to the others.

theo pulls you into an empty hallway, making you lean against the wall as softly as he can, like he's afraid of breaking you. it's the same actions he did when you two first got together. your eyebrows furrow in confusion, tightening your grip on his hands. "theo, what's wrong?" you finally ask, rubbing a caring hand on his jaw. he immediately melts but you see the way he stops himself from melting into your touch any further.)

you braced yourself for the worst but somehow the worst still hurts you so much.

an itch on your lips spreads as the breeze begins to nip on your exposed skin. you sighed, knowing what this meant for you. burying your hand inside the pockets of your jacket, you pulled out a half empty box of cigarettes and the lighter you both hid in your luggage. "for a wizarding school, they sure don't have good security for these things," you thought, placing the stick in between your lips.

after lighting the cigar, you immediately took a slow inhale, trying your best not to choke yourself. while the astronomy was the best place for brooding, it's also the number one spot for smokers especially in the foggy winters. puffs of smoke rolled out your lips, releasing it into the air. your eyes watched as the smoke mixed with the fog, holding the cigar in between your index and middle finger.

you never smoked in your life, not even when your muggle friends pressured you into it whenever you'd go home to visit but that's until you met theo. you could still recall the memory of catching theo smoking by the black lake and thinking of how pathetic he was for ruining his own health — you could also remember laughing at yourself at the same memory while theo shotguns you. it used to be just second-hand since he never had any plans to stop no matter how many times you've passive aggressively warned him but then you had a taste and everything seemed to fall into place.

theo, being the hypocrite he is, reprimanded you from smoking, saying something about being the one with the healthy lungs in the relationship. the burning cigarette came in contact with your lips again when you saw enzo and mattheo on their mary way to hogsmeade too. out of instinct, you wondered where theo was. is he just as pathetic as you? probably not, he didn't seem the type to cave into a habit he hated just because it reminded him of his partner.

before you can take your third whiff, the sound of footsteps made you let go of the cigarette, stepping on it to make the burning stop and kick it to the nearest dust bunny. you didn't turn around, you don't know if you should. if it was a teacher, they'd probably just interrogate you for being in the tower and the unusual smell.

"y/n?"

but you're not really sure what to say to your smoker ex-boyfriend. his footsteps got louder the closer he came, placing a hand on your shoulder to make you face him. he looked the same the last time you saw him. you wondered if you looked the same too.

"hey, theo." you greeted him, giving a tired smile, the one that he always described as 'not reaching your eyes'. "i just saw enzo and—"

"were you smoking?" he cuts you off.

you gulped down the saliva building down your throat. "i didn't. you know i hate smoking."

"i thought so too," without warning, his hands entered one of your pockets — unfortunately it was the one with the box of cigarettes. "but apparently not anymore."

you can't help but roll your eyes at his frustrated expression, avoiding to look at anything but his face. "it's not a big deal, theo, you do it all the time. it helps me calm down." in truth, you were embarrassed; you felt ashamed for throwing such a cliché smoker excuse at him. theo's hand that held the box clenched tightly into a fist, destroying the rest of cigars. despite your attempt to hide your disappointment, you unconsciously bit the bottom of your lip at the sight.

"it doesn't matter if i do it all the time. you, out of all people, y/n, shouldn't be doing it." theo's words felt like a knife running across your chest as he emphasized each of his words to you, making sure every single sticks to you. it annoyingly works as tears began brimming at the bottom of your eyes. theo lets go of the crumpled box, putting both hands on each of your shoulder, rubbing calm circles on them. you hadn't realized how tense you were upon getting caught.

theo takes your chin with his thumb and index finger, making you face him. his expression was surprisingly calm, if anything he looked worried. "how long?" he asked all of a sudden.

"what?"

"how long have you been smoking? and how many times?" he repeats himself.

you take a shaking breath, closing your eyes as you answered. "since we broke up," tears finally fall down your cheeks and your voice waives even worse. "i finish 3 a day." the realization hits you like a truck now that you've said it out loud. theo's expression doesn't change, watching you tremble under his hands. you wanted to bury yourself six feet under, away from the boy you love. the shame, the unsaid guilt and betrayal you felt towards theo was overwhelming. if it weren't for theo engulfing you in such a tight embrace you swore you would have fallen.

"i'm sorry, theo. i'm sorry." you whimpered in between sobs. "i didn't know what else to do. i'm sorry."

theo runs his fingers through your hair, it was his way of calming you down. "i know you are, baby. it's okay, it's not your fault." despite your emotions rampaging inside your brain, you were able to tell just what theo meant by his words. "i shouldn't have left you—"

"no, theo. you're allowed to break up with me, to take care of yourself before taking care of another person. i understand you, theo, i truly do. this is all because of me being pathetic." you were glad you managed to say everything without stuttering, tightening your grip around theo's body. "i was just lost. for a moment. not anymore."

you felt theo's hair brush against your ears, telling you that he was leaning his forehead against your shoulder. it was silent for a moment and you eventually started to calm down before he spoke again. "i love you, y/n. don't blame yourself for being human."

"and don't blame yourself for loving me. i love you too, theo, so fucking much."

#theodore nott #lorenzo zurzolo #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #golden era #marauders era

537 notes · View notes

thetriumphantpanda · 1 year

Text

nobody sees, nobody knows

Alright, here we are, me adding my two cents into the dbf!Joel trope which we all love so much. I've read so many incredible fics like this so hopefully mine can stand up with them all. This will be a series, so strap in for more of our favourite neighbourhood DILF.

Pairing | dbf!Joel x female reader

Summary | Back to Texas with a degree under your belt and a school girl fantasy to fuck your dad's best friend. What could go wrong?

Warnings | I mean, dbf!Joel comes with his own warning right? Other than that, swearing, alcohol consumption, age gap (Reader is 25, Joel is 36), dirty talk, and fingering.

Word Count | 3.3K

PART 2 | MAIN MASTERLIST

There was something about summer in Texas that just hit differently. The way the heat crawled on your skin from the moment you woke up to the moment you tried to sleep at night. The way your father used it as an excuse to cook primarily on the grill, regardless of the food, and the way your mother always made sure the fridge was stocked with cold drinks. The way traffic seemed to cease to exist during the high points of the day, meaning you went to the store every day at midday to buy ice cream. The haze you got from sipping cold beer by your parents’ pool which made you want to do reckless things like you’d done in New York before you realized that the beady eyes of your parents would be all over you if you tried. Reckless things like tell Joel Miller you’d wanted to fuck him for years.

Every time you’d come home from school, and he’d be there you could have sworn he’d just gotten more and more attractive. The last time you were home, for Christmas and New Year’s, you could have sworn he’d started at the gym, his biceps bulging in the arms of his fitted t-shirt, when your dad commented on it, he's chalked it down to particularly heavy lifting on the job he was working then. He’d had his hair cut in a way that made his face even more handsome and you’re pretty sure the last few times you’d been home he’d noticed how you’d flourished too.

There were moments where you’d catch his eyes as they drew themselves up your legs, or the time you decided to test your theory and wear a low-cut top and your best bra to a dinner party. His eyes had trained on your chest for most of the night, there was a moment where you’d stood up and leaned over the table to pick up the salt instead of asking him to pass it. He’d choked on his drink and your dad had slapped his back to try and help him. At least you knew he was thinking like you.

Neither of you had tried crossing the line though. Past the point of no return. You wanted him to make the first move, save yourself the embarrassment of rejection if it came, but it felt like waiting for Joel Miller to kiss you was like waiting for rain in the drought Texas was currently experiencing. Useless and disappointing. You wished sometimes that you could burrow into his brain and figure out what it was that he was really thinking about you. You suspected there would be some code of honour he was sticking to because you were his best friend’s daughter – sure it might complicate things, but you weren’t going to be back in Texas forever – what was the worst that could happen during the secret, torrid affair you’d been cooking up in your head since you arrived back from college a week ago?

“Did you hear me when I spoke to you?” Your mother’s voice pulled you from the daydream you were having whilst polishing the cutlery.

“Sorry mom, I was miles away.”

“I know!” She exclaims, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you since you came back, you’ve been away with the fairies,” She sighs, “I said, once you’ve set the cutlery out back can you help your dad with filling the fridge with the beer, please?”

You hum in agreement which is enough to send her back to the endless chopping she seems to be doing at the kitchen counter. It was just a cookout with the Millers and few other family friends to celebrate your return, but you think your mother thinks she’s catering for a garden party at the White House with the number of sides she’s preparing.

You make quick work of the rest of the cutlery, wanting to avoid any more questions about why you seem miles away all the time – you can’t exactly tell your mother it’s because you’re thinking about how Joel might eat your pussy.

“Need any help, old man?” You greet your dad in the garage, he’s on his knee’s pulling out bottles of Budweiser to stack in the fridge.

“Here, grab these and start putting them in,” He’s smiling, he’s always been an overly happy and laid-back man, “I hope we’ve got enough in.”

“How many people are you expecting?” You chuckle, taking a bottle from him to add to the growing number already stacked on the shelves.

“Probably ten or so,” Hu shrugs, “But one of those people is Tommy Miller and he’s not changed a bit since you’ve been away.”

“Between your drinks and mom’s sides we could host the entire neighborhood.” You joke.

You continue to fill the fridge up with drinks until there’s no room left. Your dad stores the leftover crates next to it for refilling throughout the evening, “Now, go and make yourself look nice, everyone’ll be here soon.”

You’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t picked your shortest and lowest cut dress for the evening. It was a pale blue colour, with pink flowers dotted about the material. It fell to your mid-thigh and you had to keep reminded yourself to kneel down instead of bending over, in case people who you didn’t want to look caught an eyeful of the scant lace covering your ass.

There are a few people milling around already, cold beers in hand, mainly some of your dad’s older friends, who have all congratulated you on graduating and then moved on to talk about mundane neighborhood gossip.

“Now, where is that smartass?” You hear from the sliding doors; it’s Tommy and he’s bounding over to you to give you a hug.

He scoops you up into a bone breaking hug, “Congratulation’s girl, your dad said you graduated top of the class!”

He’s set you down and you can see Joel standing awkwardly next to him, “He’s exaggerating, I wasn’t top, although pretty close to it,” You turn to Joel, “Hey there.” He bends down to give you a one-armed hug and a peck on the cheek.

“Good to see you back, sweetheart.”

“Good to see you too, Joel,” You chirp in response, “Where’s Sarah?”

“She’s at camp for the first part of the summer,” He explains, “Back in a couple’a weeks, she’ll be thrilled to see you again.”

“Boys!” Your dad’s booming voice interrupts your conversation, “Good to see you both!” He turns to you, “Why don’t you go and get these two some beers, I need to speak to them about fixin’ up the attic.”

You turn quietly and head for the garage. Of course, you’d become waitress at your own welcome home party. It takes no time at all for you to come back with three beers, two for the Miller brothers and one for yourself. You hand them off wordlessly, but you don’t miss how Joel grips the bottle just above your fingers, brushing against them. Of all the places for him to grab the bottle, that couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?

The rest of the evening goes by as expected. You spend most of it running around helping your mom set the food out, fetching more beers for everyone and trying to field questions from everyone about what you’re going to do in Texas with an MA in Archival Studies. You bite your tongue every time, and reply with something like, “I think I’ll probably work in an archive.”

The night is winding down, your mom already in bed having finished her wine too quickly, your dad sat outside in the quickly fading sunlight with Joel and Tommy and a few other stragglers. It fell to you to make aa start on the dishes, which is what you were currently doing. Rinsing them off over the sink before stacking them in the dishwasher, pausing long enough each time to take a sip of lukewarm beer.

“They got you tidyin’ up your own party?” You hear from behind you. It’s Joel.

“I’m the only one sober enough not to break anything.” You shrug without turning around to face him.

“Seems a little unfair if you ask me, sweetheart.”

“Well, why don’t you make yourself useful and help?” You counter, “Then I can be sat outside drinkin’ beer with you all.”

You hear his boots on the floor and then he’s next to you, reaching around to grab the pile of cutlery on the side, he opens the dishwasher further to put the cutlery in their designated tray and then stop, “Has no-one ever taught you how to stack a dishwasher?”

You pause in your rinsing to look up at him for the first time, “What do you mean?”

“This is awful sweetheart,” He chuckles, “You’ve got the bowls and plates in the wrong place – you’ll be doing three washes if you carry on like this.”

“Well, go on then, maestro, show me how to stack it.”

He’s unloading everything you’ve put in so far, apart from what you suspect he thinks was his expertly placed cutlery, and you’re watching as he’s stacking in completely differently to you. Annoyingly he’s not wrong, the way he’s doing it means you’ll likely fit everything in at once, “Can’t believe you’ve lived on your own for five years and didn’t learn how to stack a dishwasher.”

“Joel, I was in a dingy studio apartment in the ass end of New York, you think I had a dishwasher?”

“Well, consider yourself taught now, I don’t ever wanna see a dishwasher looking anything less than perfect, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, Mr Miller.” You watch as his eyebrows raise at your new greeting, oh. He liked that.

He picks up your almost empty beer bottle and hands it to you, “Go on, down the rest,” He’s grinning, “Then go and sit down and I’ll get you a fresh one.”

You decide to push it a little further, “Yes, sir.” You watch as he swallows deeply at your words before you’re brushing past him, far too close than necessary to go and sit down.

It’s another hour of sitting around in the garden before everyone else is gone – Tommy is finishing off his beer and telling Joel he’ll be heading to his to crash.

“I’m going to call it a night too,” Your dad says, “Stay and finish your drink though Joel, there’s no rush, I’m sure this one can keep you company with her stories from New York.”

And then you’re alone with him, finally. He’s taking a long drink from his beer bottle, which you mirror, realizing suddenly that you didn’t eat much, and you’ve drunk far more than you probably should. You’re not drunk, but there’s a pleasant buzz through your body that’s making your eyelids a little heavy.

When the light goes off in your parents’ room, you figure it’s safe, “I’ve seen you staring at me, you know.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, “You make it hard not to, sweetheart.”

“Do you want me, Joel?” You don’t know where you’ve come from all of a sudden, but this confident girl isn’t someone you recognize.

“It ain’t a question of wantin’ you sweetheart, it’s a question of doin’ the right thing.” You watch as he rubs his hand over his forehead in frustration.

“But you do,” You push him, “Want me?”

“Course I do,” He’s swallowing thickly again, just like he did in the kitchen, “But I can’t have you.”

“Says who?” You pry.

“Says the fact that I’m one’a your dad’s best friends, not to mention far too old for you.” He’s looking at you and taking another big drink from his bottle, like if he finishes, he can leave you alone.

“No-one has to know,” You shrug, “Could be our little secret?”

“You been readin’ too many of them romance novels,” He snorts, “It don’t work like that, if they find out they’ll fucking kill me.” He’s tilting his head to the window of your parents’ room.

You stand from your seat opposite him, walking around the table to stop just in front of Joel, “Come on Joel, have a little fun for once.”

There’s a moment where you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, trying to weigh up being shot for touching his best friend’s little girl and finally satisfying the craving he’d wanted for a while now. Then, he’s putting his bottle down on the floor next to the chair he’s sat in. You watch closely as he shifts his position to sit more towards the edge of the chair, before one of his hands reaches out to grip the back of your thigh, just above the crease of your knee.

“You’ll be the death of me,” He mumbles before he looks up at you, “C’mere.”

He’s pulling gently on your leg as he shifts back in the seat, guiding you so your hips are straddling his. You try not to press yourself too fully into him just yet, letting your clothed heat rest above his lap. One of his arms comes to wrap around the back of your waist, the other tangling in your hair at the back of your head whilst he looks at you with eyes that say he wants to devour you.

“You gonna kiss me, Mr Miller?” You ask, innocently.

“Oh darlin’, I’m gonna do so much more than that.”

His head is tilting to the side and looking up at you from your higher ground, perched on his lap. Then his lips are on yours and God all those years of longing were worth it. They’re pressed tentatively against your own, but you can feel they’re slightly chapped. His hand resting in your hair grips a little tighter and he’s moving your head slightly so that when he opens his mouth against yours it’s the easiest thing for you to open yours right back and let his tongue into your mouth.

You let out a gasp, swallowed into his own mouth when his hands drop back to your thighs before they’re trailing up the small skirt of your dress to cup the cheeks of your ass, “You wear this for me?” He pulls away, speaking before he’s trailing his lips along your jawline, “Thought you’d get me worked up in this tiny little thing, naughty girl?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

He huffs a breath out of his nose as if to say, of course it did. He’s trailing his hot mouth down your neck now, dragging his teeth along your skin before licking with his tongue to soothe any red marks he might leave. Your head is thrown back as his hands drag you down so you’re sitting flush against him. You can’t help but notice the bulge in his jeans when your clothed pussy makes contact with him.

You’re whining as his hands are on your hips under your dress, the hot skin of his hands setting fire to you, “What do you want, pretty girl?” He asks, his tongue trailing down to the valley between your tits.

“Fingers,” You rasp, “Make me come with your fingers Joel.”

He lets out a low chuckle against your skin, “Needy little thing, already beggin’ me to finger fuck her.”

But he’s already obliging your request, one of his hands is moving down from your hip to the front of your panties, running his thumb over the material from top to bottom, “God, I can feel how wet you are already,” You look down and he’s grinning, “I’m gonna take these off, sweetheart, but you gotta promise to keep quiet okay?”

You nod in agreement before you’re lifting your hips up, just enough for Joel to hook his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pull them down enough so his hands can touch you. He mimics the same movement he’d done over the material, this time his fingers touching the bare skin of you seam and he’s groaning when he feels the slick gathered near your tight hole.

“God, you really are wet, aren’t ya?” He chuckles, a flush creeping over your cheeks, “Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about sweetheart,” He reassures, “Means I’m doin’ somethin’ right.”

You feel one of his thick fingers slip inside you, just a little, before he’s dragging the slick he’s gathered up to run light touches over your clit. You bite down on your lip to keep you from crying out into the dark, hips bucking into his hand to try and get more friction from his fingers. He takes the hint and is pressing his finger more firmly into your bundle of nerves and it’s becoming increasingly more difficult to keep quiet.

When Joel’s hand drops from your clit you almost cry from frustration, put then he’s sinking two of his fingers straight into your soaking pussy and the relief is palpable. He’s moving them in and out of you, curling them in just the right way that has your hips moving in time with him, literally fucking yourself on his fingers. You let your head fall into the crook of his neck, placing kisses to his skin as you ride his fingers.

“This what you wanted, pretty girl?” He asks, his free hand coming to cup the back of your head against his neck, at least this way you could make some noise – testing out your theory you let out a throaty moan, listening carefully as his skin muffles most of the sound.

“I need… god Joel, my clit, please.”

With his fingers still buried inside you, working you to the edge, his thumb moves to your clit, resuming the circles his finger had been drawing over it before, “I can feel your pussy gettin’ tight around my fingers,” He’s turned his head so it’s buried in the hair at the side of your head, “You gonna come for me, sweetheart?”

You push back from him a little, looking down between your bodies where you can see his hand working you and that’s really all it takes. Your legs are shaking and you’re biting down on your lip hard enough that you can taste blood as pleasure bursts through you – not even you had made yourself come like this. Ever. Joel’s fingers have stilled inside you, but he’s still tracing your clit with gentle movements of his thumb, reveling in the way you jerk through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Did so well for me, pretty girl.” He coos at you once he’s pulled his hand from your pussy.

You’ve collapsed onto his chest to catch your breath, but you’re already subconsciously grinding your hips into his, God you want more. You’re about to reach for his belt when you can feel something vibrating in the pocket of his jeans.

He’s mumbling an apology, lifting you just enough to fish his phone from his pocket. He answers without looking at who is calling. You can hear Tommy’s voice through the phone from your place, draped over Joel’s lap.

“You just turn it to the side, jackass,” Joel is mumbling in answer to Tommy’s question on how to work his shower, “You’ve used it a million times,” Tommy say’s something you can quite make out, “No, not that one, the one underneath it,” Joel is sighing, “You were not this drunk when you left, if I find you’ve finished the good whiskey I’m gonna kill you,” Another sigh to a question you couldn’t quite hear, “Fine, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Disappointment is pooling in your stomach. You don’t want him to go, not when there’s so much unfinished business here, “I gotta go, sweetheart.” He’s mumbling, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“But what about this?” You ask, reaching between you to cup his cock through his jeans, “Let me help you.”

His hand is gripping your wrist, “I would love nothin’ more, but I gotta go before Tommy floods my house,” Another kiss to your lips, “Next time.”

“You want to do this again?” You ask, almost surprised.

He takes the hand that had been buried in your pussy not minutes before, lifting the fingers he’d fucked you with to his mouth before sucking them right in front of your face, “Now I’ve gotta taste for you, sweetheart?” He raises an eyebrow, “Of course I wanna do this again.”

1K notes · View notes

gremlingottoosilly · 7 months

Text

Cabin in the woods (yandere!shasher!Konig x fem!Reader x yandere!slasher!Horangi) chapter 6

You start to break down, finally accepting Konig's soft advances.

WARNINGS: Blood, dub-con bordering on non-con, general slasher-y, mild knife stabbing

Masterlist with all chapters This on AO3

This basement is filled with dead people. Or, so you thought at first glance.

At the second glance, you notice a broken bicycle, a bunch of furniture pieces, and something that you could only describe as a particularly horrible-looking attempt at wood carving. Or, maybe, a hanging post. You were in the killer’s layer, after all.

You were there for 10, maybe 15 minutes, and you already know that you are not making it out sane. Your whole body is trembling, your head is throbbing, you are dizzy after an orgasm, and Max is still lying here, his body is warm and soft. Blood stopped dripping from his stomach, but it didn’t make him any less dead. Coughing and almost throwing up from disgust, you spit out every last bit of cum that you managed to get out of your sore throat. You needed something – water, normal food, a good few hours of sleep because you’ve been running on sheer adrenaline for the past 12 hours and it started to take a toll on your…everything.

Just a few hours ago, you were a bored college girl on her forest trip with a bunch of weirdo friends. Your biggest problem was the utter boredom of this fucking woods, not the murderous maniacs on your tail. Now…

— Open wide, Maus. Let me feed you, ja?

Now you were spoonfed reheated chicken soup by König. Colonel in the PMC. The guy who dropped his mask to make you even more scared because you see all the burn marks and scars on his face, and just know that you won’t ever be able to resist someone as strong as him.

Guy who calls you “good girl” and pets your head and tries to engage you in this weird as fuck power dynamic that makes your cheeks warm and your mouth open, even though the saltiness of the soup makes you remember his cum and…fuck. Oh, god fucking damnit.

He is smiling like a maniac, making sure that with each spoon of your soup, you also eat something…you don’t even want to acknowledge it, your stomach is too empty, and your mouth was already tarnished by him, so what’s the problem with a few more drops of his semen, carefully added to the mixture so you won’t be able to miss it? You cringe in disgust as he smiles and pushes even more in your throat, almost making you gag from the spoon deep past your teeth. At least you know that the chicken bits here are actual chicken.

— Let…let me go. Please.

You finish the bowl of soup after a few torturous minutes. The salty taste in your mouth leaves you cringing, and König smiles, wiping your face with a napkin. You feel helpless – with your arms newly bound, there is nothing much you can do when he presses a bottle of coke to your mouth, making you wash away the incredible saltiness with even more incredible sweetness. You want to gag, but he closes your mouth swiftly after.

He smiles.

— We’ll walk you later. Now is not the time for girls to be out.

— I’m not a…

He scoops you in his hands, your body swinging in the air like a doll. It’s horrible, just how strong he is – makes you tremble in his hold, like a useless little victim you are. God, this even sounds embarrassing – yet you can hear the smile in his voice as he drags you along with him. Forcing you to look at Max’s dead body, the smell isn’t filling the room just yet. You try your best to consider yourself lucky.

— You’re cranky, Maus. Need to get you out of here before he starts to smell, right? Brainy ones usually rot extremely fast.

He laughs at his own joke as he pushes you in his arms further. Your head pounds with every one of his rough, deep phrases, his hands are going to roughly manhandle you in place. You whine, too weak to resist but not too weak to stop crying. God, this is pathetic. And scary, And not like those movies about hot killers and half-naked girls.

You’re not a final girl material because instead of fighting him and slamming your knee in his dick again, you get even further on his hands, hoping he would be able to hold you in place like you wanted it.

— Not sure if I should call you a Kitten or a good girl. What do you prefer?

He pushes his large, calloused hand to your face, smearing blood all over your cheeks once again. You cringe, your nose gets the fragrance of blood and decay from his skin – the weirdest fucking perfume that you hope to never smell again. Sobbing softly, you allow him to press his hands on your body, to roam around freely, like you were his fucking treat and not a real person with wants and desires.

— Fuck you.

— It’s Horangi’s job, girl. Not yours, ja?

He laughs plentifully, getting you in his hands. You shiver under his touch, not wanting his fingers anywhere near your abused body – they got you off one time exactly, and you wish never to come from your captor’s toucher. You don’t even want to look at Max, too scared to ever see his lifeless, cold face – terrified of the deep path you feel towards him. Like nothing has happened, like he wasn’t one of your friends. You don’t feel anything besides being tired, and you can’t begin to unwrap all the complex feelings behind your assholish friend group deaths.

Jenny and Chad are still out here, still could get help – but they were ignoring every one of your pleads, not wanting to ruin their nice vacation with your dumb panic. Deep down, you almost feel like screwing these fucking assholes and hoping that they would get impaled by a large freaking stick, preferably in the middle of very lame and satisfying sex. Preferably…

— König, I thought we agreed of not letting her out.

— You’re going hunting, and I need company.

— She could run, you know. You’re too soft on her.

— I can break her ankle! She won’t run then.

König’s voice is so cheerful you actually feel nauseous. He is smiling and laughing, and they both hug before the shorter guy gets out – you can’t even begin to remember the outline of their house because, honestly, serial killers shouldn’t have houses this nice. Ruch wood, probably painted with blood, some hunting trophies, probably incrusted with human bones and remains of their victims, a lot of silly little knickknacks that are probably trophies from the previous groups of dumb college kids…

Shit, no matter how much you wanted to say that this place looks horrible and straight out of a horror movie, it still looks nice. You wonder if it could be scored for a low price, with all the disappearing in the woods around it. You wonder if they started to kill people to make the house cheaper and buy it for half a Euro and a firm handshake.

König grabs you like a plush toy, squeezing you in his magnificent, strong chest, almost making you choke on his boobs as you just desperately try to breathe. He smells like masculinity, too much male perfume and blood – you tuck your face closer to his neck, trying to see if you could, perhaps, bite through his blood stream and vampire your way out of this place, but he only laughs, feeling your teeth on his skin as a form of foreplay. You didn’t want foreplay, you wanted to fucking kill him, maul him to death, do everything in your power to drop him on his back and perform acts that would be not only concerning to feminism but humanity as a whole.

He drops you on the couch before you can sink your teeth into his shoulder, leaving perfect teeth marks on the pale skin of his body. You heard somewhere that human bites are actually incredibly dangerous and call make you ill – you also hoped that you could somehow get rabies from that one poor rodent lying dead on the ground, and so you would be able to transfer the disease to these two fuckers.

You hoped that Karen would give them all the STDs that are possibly could be transmitted.

You hoped that Max would annoy the shit out of them before he died.

You hoped…but it’s useless now, isn’t it? You are sitting on the couch, your captor keeping a firm hand on your thigh, his erection still hard in his pants – you refuse to look at it, you’re better than this, but, oh god, you had no idea a dick could be this dick and don’t prod through pants. You feel like a house dog that was allowed to sit on the soft furniture for the first time in her life, and you hate it. With a groan and, perhaps, a bit of an angry yelp, you fall to the ground.

König smiles immediately – and pushes your face between his legs, perhaps thinking that you just died to suck him off. You wince, both from disgust and fear. Your jaw is still sore, and you aren’t sure how you can still close it.

— Such an eager girl, ja? I will give you what you want then.

Come to think of it, while he is relaxed and his partner is out of the house, you could try to bite his dick off. It should give you a headstart to run and find a weapon to eliminate one of the problems. Then, again, it would require you to put his dick in your mouth again.

Your jaw pleaded to just allow him to fuck your pussy instead.

Your pussy pleaded to just give him your ass, to not risk being pregnant.

Your ass…yeah, you’re not trying anal for the first time with a guy who can swing his dick like a baseball bat and kill some unhappy campers with it.

With the swiftness of the wind, you get up, sitting on the couch in the most modest pose you can imagine. You threw away a couple of pillows in the process – nice pillows, soft pillows, pillows you couldn’t imagine in the house of not just two killers but two military dudes who don’t seem like the type to like everything soft and cute. Besides you, you guess – or they always get one of their victims as leverage or a fucked up pet until they are fully committed to just killing you and eating what is left of your remains.

König only laughs, getting a hand over your shoulders and pressing you closer to him. You don’t want to, but you’re basically naked, save for your underwear and torn jeans, and he is warm. You don’t need a blanket when you have his hot flesh next to your skin – you suppress a smile, trying your best not to fall into their clutches. You’re tired, yes, but it’s not an excuse to be a whore! There are many more convenient moments to be a slut and this one is not it. They killed your friends!

Your asshole friends.

— You have any movie preferences?

He has to repeat his question a few times, you’re too lost in thought to actually listen. Only when he pinched your thigh, no doubt leaving a bruise, you kinda jumped in place, only barely containing a pathetic whimper. His fingers just started to gently squeeze and play with soft flesh, only making everything more warm and twisted and painful.

— No slashers.

He chuckles, pressing his hand deeper into your inner thigh. You try to close your legs, not wanting to invite his fingers in, but he just rests his fingertips on the border of torn jeans, gently brushing it over the sensitiveness of your skin. You gulp, suppressing any reaction.

— No slashers. Gut. I, too, prefer the real thing.

Shiver rund down your spine. God, you need to get out of here, not play house with a murderer! A handsome murderer who killed your asshole friends and who was also kinda nice(not killing you, that is) and even saved you from being too hurt and even allowed you on the couch and even…god, you’re a miserable shell of a woman and the greatest speedrunner of the Stockholm syndrome in the world.

Your body sinks into the couch that smells like a mix between a frat house and a meat fridge.

He turns on the TV, placing something dumb and loud. You don’t even want to look, but you’re bored, and you don’t want him to think you are letting him off the hook with your observant nature – you look at him, quietly as he intensely watches a…

A familiar melody fills the room. You actually need to wait a few seconds, blink, and then look at the screen again. God, is he fucking serious right n-

You are sitting in the house in the middle of a murder forest, with the dead body of your friend rotting in the basement of said house, you were forced to have sex with the killers of the said friends, and now you’re kidnapped in the said house…and the killer just turned on fucking Encanto for you.

— It’s popular among girls your age, right?

You want to say that, among normal college female population, porn would be far more suitable to watch. The guy looks older than you, for sure, mature, with a rugged face and scars and that perfect stubble and touches of silver in his ginger hair, and…shit, you’re dreaming of his rough handsomeness again. Quick, think about your dead friend.

— I’m not 5.

— You act like you’re 5.

— Wh…what do you mean?

— You left your friends to die, you don’t care that we can hurt you…

— I care that you can hurt me!

— You’re silly, Liebling. A normal person would try to run away three times already.

— You said you’d break my ankles.

— I will. Still, you look like you prefer this place more, ja? You can watch dumb shows and eat whatever you want and never worry about…whatever you were doing before.

— I don’t! I…this is stupid.

— You’re a bit dumb, Schatzen. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you.

He smiles as he ruffles your hair again, his hand goes to gently cup your face and cover it with hungry, sloppy kisses. You can’t even focus on the cartoon on the screen because he is basically devouring your lips right now, forcing you to open your mouth and invite him in – you don’t want him to bite you, you are hurt enough without that kind of contribution. You feel dizzy, dehydrated, you are still exhausted, and you’d want nothing more but to close your eyes and allow him to do whatever he wants with your lifeless body.

You want to roll to the side, hug the pillow, and watch Encanto on pair with some trash TV about housewives killing each other over a garden salad. You don’t want to think about your dead friends because they are dead, you are alive, and your lips are getting crushed as he forces the kiss to be more deep, as he brings his hand to gently squeeze your waist and brush over your back.

You are flushed by the end of the kiss, König grins sluggishly as you are panting, shocked, excited and a bit overwhelmed. In the heat of the moment, you didn’t even think about biting his tongue off – which sounded a bit stupid right now, yes, he would probably just kill you for trying, but you could at least…you could at least close your lips and don’t allow him to kiss you like an excited puppy who just loves loves loves covering your face with his saliva.

Like a dig with a boner, König presses wet lips all over your face and head – in your hair, on your temple, gently brushing over your forehead and cheeks, making sure that he traces his lips over every last bit of blood that he left on your skin. He grunts in the kiss, something more like a guttural moan, and you never knew that just the motion of simple, sloppy kisses can make a man so excited – you are scared and just a little bit curious. Just how much he wants to touch his victim.

König gently places you down on the couch, forcing you to sit straight. He picks up one of the fallen decor pillows and throws it into your hands, allowing you to have something to fidget with. He almost looks guilty, anxious, that barbaric, rugged face is red with embarrassment and sadness as he can’t really do anything nice with you right now, can’t play with you like he wants to. God, König would give up a lot to just fuck you raw on this couch, to forget about your stupid friends and make you their nice little couple addition – but he promised, he knows he is, and you’re too sensitive and overwhelmed to take him like this now.

König can bet that you’d be so tight he wouldn’t even get a finger in. Breaking you in should feel fucking amazing.

— Can’t fuck you right now, Schatzi. Promised my tiger we would share you.

He smiles guilty, boyish, that dumb smile brings heat to your cheeks again. You turn away from him, feeling his hands keeping you in place firmly – but otherwise, he allows you to just watch the movie, getting lost in the plot you saw a couple dozen times.

You are watching the movie, and König is watching you.

— You aren’t sad?

— About what? You can sense a certain level of nervousness in his tone. You lick your lips, hugging the pillow closer to your face so he won’t be able to read your expressions.

— That we can’t fuck right now.

— I don’t want to have sex at all.

— You came stronger than I did.

— It’s a…ph…physical reaction. I didn’t want it.

— You don’t sound convinced.

He is drilling the dangerous thoughts in your head. The desire to just empty your brain and allow them to take the lead, the desire of your mind to simply shut down from all of the horrors you already saw. This is an apathetic stance – you don’t see a point in fighting after you see what they are capable of, and you certainly don’t see the point in ever trying again. Still, you somehow want them to stop, just so you can stop worrying about falling for their trap and stop being a good person who cares for her friends.

You feel like almost falling asleep, dozing off on the couch – not because you feel safe or warm, but because your body is simply refusing to reach anymore, too exhausted to produce even the most basic self-reservation instincts. König forces your head on his lap, gently stroking your tear-stained face.

When Horangi returns home with a bloody axe and Jenny, kicking and screaming in his hold, you are fully asleep on König’s lap.

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #yandere cod #slashers #slasher #horangi x reader #horangi #yandere horangi #yandere x reader #male yandere

885 notes · View notes

storiesofsvu · 1 year

Text

Show Off

Aaron Hotchner x reader warnings: language, smut, daddy kink, squirting, slight exhibitionism, derogatory dirty talk and lots of it, fingering, oral, minor cum kink/play, a little bit of ass play, and lets be real there's no plot. I added some people who interacted with the last one to the tag list. just lmk if you want to be taken off.

Don’t wanna miss new content? Taglist here!

Love what you read? Tip your writer💜

When Aaron got home he found you in the kitchen, putting away dishes, half dancing around to the playlist echoing from your phone. The window was open wide, letting the fresh spring air into the house and at first he smiled, happy to be coming home to this. Then his head tilted as he took in your ensemble, tight light grey leggings that he could practically see your pussy through and when you spun to put away a couple of spatulas he became very aware you didn’t have a bra on underneath the white crop top, your nipples peaking through the fabric at him. The utensils found the way to their proper spot and you shot him a grin,

“Hey.” You caught your lower lip between your teeth as you took him in, always loving when he was dressed down, this time a dark tee and jeans.

“Hey yourself.” His hand wound around your waist and he greeted you with a kiss, his tongue instantly surging into your mouth. You let out a little giggle, turning back to the counter to finish what you were doing, “I thought you had errands to run today?”

“I did.” You replied with a shrug, putting down a stack of plates and closing the cabinet. Aaron wrapped an arm around you from behind, his hand warm on your bare midriff and his lips hit the side of your neck, “you didn’t wear this out, did you?”

“Just to the post office.” You gasped when his teeth sank into your shoulder and his free hand spanked the globe of your ass.

“So you were being a dirty little slut then?” He growled into the shell of your ear, “letting everyone out there see what’s mine?” A hand snuck under your shirt, pinching at your nipples and you couldn’t help but whine, arching into his touch, “and no panties? You just want everyone to see the shape of your pussy?” His free hand grabbed between your legs before spanking your cunt and you mewled, “get them fantasizing about how pretty it is?” He continued to palm at you through the impossibly thin fabric while his lips graced across your skin, “when you know who it belongs to, right?”

“You daddy.” You moaned, grinding down onto his hand and you could feel yourself tingling already.

“Good.” He spanked your pussy again, pulling another whimper from your lips, “then get yourself off like the useless slut you want to be today.”

His hand settled between your legs, cupping at your pussy with the heel of his hand pressing against your clit. His other hand continued to roam under your shirt, groping at your tits and rolling your nipples between his forefinger and thumb.

“Well, get going.” He urged, “I wanna see how wet you can get these pants.”

He squeezed at you, his fingers practically slipping between your pussy lips through the fabric. You let out a low moan, your head rolling back onto his shoulder as you began to grind down onto his hand. You sucked your lower lip into your mouth, biting back a moan as Aaron’s other hand continued to massage your chest, playing with your nipples. His lips traced across your skin, starting out soft, ghosting over your neck, nipping at your earlobe,

“Such a greedy little whore you are.” He husked into your ear, “I can feel you getting wet already. You’ve been thinking about this all day haven’t you?”

“Mmmhmm…” You whined, rolling your hips harder against his hand, “need you daddy.”

“Yeah?” He jeered, grinding his hand hard against you, cupping you as you let out a groan, “you’ve been so patient this week, I bet you’re absolutely aching for my cock, aren’t you? Little cock slut you are, you love it when I use you.”

“Oh fuck Aaron…”

Your eyes fluttered shut as the heat began to fire through your body, your cunt pulsing around nothing as you felt your wetness building, your breath caught in your throat when Aaron bit into your neck. He knew exactly where to make a home with his lips, the spot that made your entire body shiver when he so much as touched it. He drove you absolutely wild and he knew it.

“God look at you,” he chuckled darkly at the whines escaping your lips, how you picked up the speed of your hips, pushing back onto his hand as hard as you could, chasing your peak, “rutting like a bitch in heat.” Pleasure coursed through you, your cheeks heating as the coil got tighter and tighter within you and you rocked down faster onto his hand, your moans getting louder with each roll of your hips. “You gonna come for daddy?”

“S-so close!” You groaned and he pinched your nipple, hard, while biting into the crook of your neck again and your body shuddered before your hips stilled. Aaron laughed, lifting his hand from between your legs, turning you in his arms to get a look at the small damp spot on the fabric of your pants.

“Oh come on,” he scolded, “I know you can do better than that. Such a desperate little whore today, you should be soaking.”

Pinning you to the counter, he hoisted you up onto it, spreading your legs wide for him, bracing your feet on the edge of the counter and his hand found your clit through the damp fabric. He didn’t hold back, knowing you were still coming down from your first orgasm, rubbing furiously at it, the friction of the fabric just enough to have your legs trembling almost immediately.

“Fuck! Fuu-uck.” You moaned, your head falling back as you felt yourself pulsing, your clit throbbing under his fingers. He pushed against your harder and you were crying out as you hit your high, thighs shaking as you squirted, juices drenching the fabric.

“That’s my good little slut.” Aaron praised, pinching your clit for extra effect and you gasped, the fabric was dark with your cum, and when he moved his fingers they were slick with wetness. “Look at you, making such a fucking mess already. Open.” He brought his fingers up to your lips and you obeyed, letting him thrust them into your mouth and all you could do was moan over the taste of your juices, tongue swirling around them as you sucked them clean.

Aaron slid his fingers out of your mouth and before you could even catch your breath enough to beg for him he leant over, his mouth wrapping around your pussy through your pants. His tongue lapped at you, groaning over your taste, the vibrations causing you to rock your body forward, eager for more.

“Oh god…” You muttered, your chest beginning to heave once again.

“Think you can get off again like this?” He asked with a grin, a brow raised in a tease in your direction and you whined, hand gripping at his hair.

“Please… need you.”

He mouthed at you again, nuzzling his face between your legs, pushing harder when your hand grasped at his scalp. As much as he wanted to torture you, drag it out as long as he possibly could, he also couldn’t wait to get his mouth actually on you, to really taste you, get your juices properly smeared all over his lips. His hands reached up to the weak seam of your pants, digging into the fabric before he easily ripped them apart, tugging at the fabric until your cunt was fully exposed.

“Aaron!” You gasped out, eyes wide and he simply scoffed.

“I’ll buy you new ones.” He grunted, tugging the fabric away from your body, “ones that don’t show off this pretty pussy as much.”

Without a second thought he dove in between your legs, hands tight on your thighs to keep you spread open for him. His tongue lapped through your folds, flicking against your clit and you gasped, pleasure shooting through you at the feeling of him finally on your body without a barrier. His mouth wrapped around your pussy, sucking at one of your lower lips before moving to the other one, then pulling them both into his mouth. His tongue delved as far as it could into you, licking up as much of your arousal as he desired.

Your nails dug into his scalp, practically every breath you exhaled was accompanied by a moan, your skin prickling with desire. With every stroke of his tongue his nose bumped against your clit and you couldn’t help but rock your hips toward his face, panting harder with each thrust. While he was incredibly talented with his mouth and every ministration was pulling more pleasure to your core, it simply was not enough right now.

“Please… please daddy…” you panted, “need you to make me come.” He growled into your pussy and you gasped at the sensation the vibrations sent rocking through you, “more.” You whined, “please, please…fuck! Please.”

Knowing exactly what you wanted, Aaron shifted his mouth upwards, lips wrapping around your throbbing clit and two fingers easily slid into your dripping cunt. The tip of his tongue traced around the swollen nub, flicking at it slowly at first, picking up the speed and pressure as your whines increased. He matched the pace with his fingers, fucking them skillfully into you, twisting them around, twirling them so they hit every inch of your inner walls. He sucked particularly hard on your clit, fingers curling just right and you moaned even louder.

“Oh god! Fuck!” Your hand shot from his head to sneak under your shirt, groping at your chest, pinching at your nipples, “just like that! Fuck…” your eyes scrunched shut as the pleasure got hotter and hotter, your skin covered in a sheen of sweat, “gonna make me come!”

Aaron increased the pressure of his mouth, tongue flicking at your clit even faster and his fingers curled up again, rather than just thrusting he kept them rather still so he could rub back and fourth over the sensitive spot inside your throbbing pussy. You clenched down around him, your juices coating his hand and he knew you were close, your thighs shaking around him. He groaned against you and you shuddered, pussy pulsing around his fingers, squeezing him so tight you almost forced him out as you moaned loudly, your hips rocking up to push against his mouth while your orgasm washed over you. You felt the gush of wetness, gasping as your body shuddered once more and Aaron chuckled, your juices leaking down his arm, droplets already dripping onto the floor between you. He always took pride in being able to make you squirt and with the track record he had going today he certainly wasn’t going to stop there. As he pulled his fingers from your drenched cunt his tongue lapped up as much of your cum as he could, teeth sinking into the skin of your thigh.

“Such a messy little thing you are.” He growled as he stood from between your legs, “you like that? Making a mess of everything?” He cocked a brow in your direction and all you could do was attempt to catch your breath. “Answer me.” He demanded, his hand suddenly spanking your pussy, your clit throbbing when he did so.

“Fuck!” You yelped, nearly whimpering at the dark look in his eyes, “yes daddy. Love when you make me squirt.”

“That’s what I thought.” He spanked you again before his hands gripped the waistband of your ruined leggings, tugging them down your legs and tossing them in the direction of the garbage. “Keep those legs spread.” His hands roughly shoved your thighs back open, pushing you back on the counter, “little sluts don’t get to decide when they’re done and I’m definitely not finished.”

You let out a little whimper, your lip nearly quivering as you looked at him and he chuckled darkly, a smirk on his lips while he tugged your crop top over your head, leaving you bare before him. Somehow that turned you on even more, being completely naked while he was still fully clothed, in the middle of the kitchen as he had his way with you. It was almost like he could sense it, catching the way your cheeks flushed, the way you practically pouted up at him and his lips split into a grin as he grabbed your chin.

“Quite the exhibitionist aren’t you? I should just fuck you on the front step next time, let everyone on the block know how much of a fucking slut you are. But you’d probably like that too much, wouldn’t you? You’d just fucking love to show off, let everyone see your tight little cunt dripping with cum.”

He dropped your chin, taking a small step back as he surveyed you before his hand wound back and then came down hard on your pussy. You let out a quiet yelp, your body shivering at the painful pleasure surging through you.

“Whose pussy is this?” He growled.

“Yours!” You whined back, your clit already throbbing when Aaron spanked it again.

“And who makes you feel this good?”

“You do daddy.” You whimpered.

“Are you a dirty little whore?” Spank. “A needy little thing?” Spank. “A pathetic little slut?” Spank. “Answer me.” Spank. “What are you?” Spank. “Say it!” Spank. Each hit a little harder than the last, his fingers coming away a little more wet and sticky each time as your arousal built back up.

“I’m a dirty whore.” You whined out, your breath caught in your throat as he spanked your pussy again.

“That’s right.” He cooed.

“I need you daddy. Can’t come without you.”

“So what are you?” He asked, spanking you once again and you whimpered.

“I’m a pathetic little slut.”

“That’s right.” Spank. “You are. Going out dressed like that. Only I’m allowed to see you like this.” Spank. “Only I’m allowed to touch you. Understood?” Spank.

“Yes daddy.” You cried out, your pussy was absolutely throbbing. Pulsing around nothing as you ached for him to do something more, juices leaking down your legs you were so turned on you could barely focus.

“Good girl.” He praised with one last spank, this one directly on your clit and you shuddered, letting out a low moan.

Aaron stepped toward you and you braced yourself for another spank but instead he shoved thee fingers into your pussy and you let out a satisfied groan. He filled you so perfectly, fingers fucking into you, curling right where you needed them, stretching you out so wonderfully your eyes fluttered shut. He thrusted them into you, flicking them out every so often, pulling your wetness out with him as he did so, watching the droplets hit the floor. “God you’re such a pathetic slut, just a hole for me to use.”

“I am daddy!” You begged, “just for you. Only for you. Need your cock. Please!” Your whining became more insistent as the pleasure built up inside you again, feeling stuffed with his fingers moving faster and harder with each breath you let out. His free hand reached up, wrapping around your throat and after only two squeezes of his hand you were coming again, pussy juices drenching his hand as you shook in his arms.

“Yeah?” He raised a brow, releasing your throat, “you want me to fill you up? Stretch out that tight pussy with my thick cock?”

“Mmmhmm.” You nodded, panting, body still twitching as your nerves fired off pleasure through your limbs.

Aaron grabbed your hips, yanking you off the counter and flipping you over, bending you over it. He grabbed one of your legs, bending it and raising it up onto the counter, spreading your pussy open for him. He let out a low groan at how you glistened in the sunlight, just absolutely drenched and fluttering for him already. He was straining against his pants, hard and throbbing when he undid his belt, pulling his cock out. He pumped it a few times, smearing the bead of pre-cum across his length.

“You’re gonna take it like a good slut, right?” He asked, rubbing his cock against your folds and you nodded, a gasp leaving your lips when he rubbed the tip through you, teasing you, coating him in your juices. “That’s what I thought.”

With one swift thrust of his hips he buried his cock into you, letting out a grunt at how tight you were, how good you felt around him. His hand pressed against your lower back, keeping you pinned to the counter as he set a brutal pace, cock plunging into you fully with each thrust of his hips. It didn’t take long before you were a whimpering mess, barely able to make out words as he fucked you into oblivion. His hand tangled into your hair, yanking your chest up and his cock managed to hit even deeper within you.

“Oh god…” you moaned, pussy clamping down around him, “feels… s- soo good.”

His free hand cracked down on the globe of your ass and you whimpered, “louder! I want the whole street to know who you belong to.”

“Fuck! Daddy!” This one was louder, “oh god, don’t stop!”

“Who owns this tight little cunt?” His breathing was starting to get laboured, feeling you squeeze around him, the squelching sounds coming from you enough to make him twitch and throb already.

“You do daddy!” You cried out, “this pussy’s all yours.” You could barely keep your eyes open, the feeling of his body on yours, his cock stretching you out perfectly, you could feel every ridge and vein. Your entire body was on fucking fire already.

“Who makes you feel this fucking good? Hmm?”

“Oh fuck! Aaron!” There was no holding it back anymore and you honestly didn’t care who heard, the man was making you see stars. “make me feel so good. Love your cock.”

“Gonna fuck you stupid.” He grunted, thrusting harder into you, watching the way you were starting to shake. He spit onto your ass, letting the saliva drip down to your tight hole before his thumb began to circle it and you let out a moan. He eased his thumb into it and your moans got louder, pussy clenching down around his cock.

“Oh fuuckk..” It was guttural, deep in the back of your throat and he just knew the effect he was having on you right now, hips snapping into yours sharper and faster with each thrust.

“You like that?” He teased, his thumb fully seated, “want me to fuck your ass too? Let my cum leak out of all your holes?”

“Yes!” You cried out, “oh god yes daddy! Fill me up, please!”

“Little cum slut.” His word were accented with a particularly harsh thrust and you yelped, your body falling back down onto the counter. You whimpered out, each thrust of his cock pulled a louder whine from you, your hands clawing at the counter, your pussy pulsing again and again, squeezing around Aaron tighter and tighter.

“I’m gonn—gon come.” You choked out, fire shooting through your body and Aaron spanked your ass with his free hand before it wrapped around your hip, finding your clit and starting to rub.

“Want you to squirt for me again, come on my cock like the whore you are.” His fingers were already covered in your slick, “let everyone hear how pretty you sound when you come.”

“Harder.” You choked out and the next thrust sent your hips pushing into the counter sharply, his fingers pressed heavier against your pulsing nub, your cunt clenching around him as he throbbed inside you. “Oh god daddy. Fuck! FUCK!”

With one final cry you were shaking between his body and the counter, thighs trembling as your pussy squeezed so tightly around him he let out a loud swear. His thumb slipped out of your ass so he could grab your hips, bracing himself to chase his own peak, pulling you back onto his cock harder with each thrust. The point where your bodies met was soaked, juices and sweat coating both of you, it was only a matter of minutes, listening to you whimper, feeling you flutter around his length in aftershocks before he let out a loud grunt and his hips stilled. You moaned in satisfaction at the feeling of his cum painting your walls, the way his cock pulsed inside you. He squeezed at his cock, making sure you’d gotten every last drop before he pulled out.

“Such a good little slut.” He purred, his fingers moving between your legs, scooping up the mixture of cum and shoving it back into you.

You gasped, your back arching up, sensitive from the multiple orgasms he’d pulled from you already. You couldn’t help but shudder as he fucked his cum back deep inside you. It was only once he was satisfied and had caught his own breath that his fingers left you, his clean hand soothing up and down your back and he gently nudged your stiff leg off the counter, pulling you up into his arms, your back flush to his chest. He pressed a gentle kiss into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around you.

“Holy fuck Aaron.” You groaned; your throat nearly hoarse and he chuckled, kissing the side of your head.

“You alright there sweetheart?”

“Fucking perfect.”

“Good.” He turned you in his arms, smiling down at you before he leant down to kiss you softly, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb stroking at your skin. “Quite the mess….” He teased, glancing down and you laughed.

“Remind me to mop the floor tomorrow.”

“I mean, I did cause it, I’ll do it.” He offered with a grin and you laughed again, popping up on your toes to kiss him again.

“You’re too good to me.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” He shot you a sheepish grin and you cocked a brow at him, your head tilting in confusion, “when I came home Mrs. Henderson was out gardening.” His eyes flicked toward the very open window that faced the neighbours yard and you gasped, swatting at his chest.

“Aaron!” You scolded, “well now we are definitely skipping the next block party.”

“If fucking you stupid is all I have to do to get out of those, then you can guarantee it happening every time.” He smirked and you laughed, shaking your head at him.

“I’m not gonna argue that.” You murmured, lips curving up into a grin as he kissed you again.

“Now how about we get you into a nice bath? Hmm?”

“I’d love that.”

________________________

@unsubologyy @alexusonfire @svushots @heidss @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @emobabeyy @daddy-heather-dunbar @mrs-ssa-hotch @hotchandspencearedilfs @mina2000alex @telepathay @darlingsfandom @ssamorganhotchner @hotchsdoormat @hopedoesntknow @thehauntingofbasingse @plaidbooks

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfic #hotch x you #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner smut

2K notes · View notes

slasherbvnnie · 1 year

Text

Until We Found You Part II

Hi again! Welcome back for part II of Until We Found You, please head the tags: Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader, Eventual NSFW, All characters 18+

Part I Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX

The police were practically useless with your case. After your parents had arrived, they checked the house while they told you to pack a bag. You went back upstairs, still cautious in case the killer was lurking somewhere. You felt your foot slip beneath you, remembering the papers on the floor. You picked them up from the ground, stuffing them into your backpack, following it up with clothes and whatever else you needed to take. You looked out of your window, seeing a red beetle pulling into your driveway and Tatum and Sidney getting out of it. You sighed, finishing packing your bag up, hearing the police begin to make their way to your room. “You can all interview her tomorrow, I want her somewhere safe for the night,” you heard your mom's voice from down the hall, putting your shoes on before peeking your head out and looking up at the officer in front of you. “Dewey,” you called out, seeing the man look back at you. “Hey, are you okay? Did the paramedics check you out already,” he questioned, nodding and offering a tiny smile. “Yup, I wasn’t hurt, just kinda scared I guess,” you murmured, what if the killer got the smart idea to frame it all on you now? Why didn’t they kill you? You weren’t scared for your life, just scared they would ruin it by setting you up.

“Oh, good, yeah. You gave your statement already, right?” He asked, you gave a hum in response. “Crazed masked killer wearing a black outfit, yup. Creepy call too, he asked me about an old horror movie, you know, the one I named Irena after. It was fucking creepy,” You said, recalling the incident from less than an hour ago. “Dewey!” Tatum called, pushing past the other officers with Sidney trailing right behind her. “Oh my god, are you okay? Did they hurt you or anything,” Tatum asked as she pulled you in for a hug. “No, I’m- I’m okay,” you reassured her as Sidney wrapped her arms around you as well.

“Honey,” your dad called, making you pull away from the girls. “The Machers said they would be happy to keep watch on all you kids tonight. I’d feel a little better knowing all your friends will be with you,” he said, you nodded. “Yeah, I’d feel better too, did you guys call Randy and Billy already?” You asked as you turned back to Sidney and Tatum. “Yeah, we called them on the way, we asked Stu if we could stay at his since his is the biggest. We kinda figured you didn’t want to be alone tonight,” Sidney said, making you smile a bit as you nodded. “Thanks,” you said before going to your parents. “What about you guys? Where are you going to stay tonight,” you didn’t want the killer to go after them, next to Irena they were the only thing you cared about. “We’ll be at your aunt's house, we will be safe. You just try relaxing okay? We’ll pick you up in the morning to take you to the station,” your mom said before hugging you. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” she sighed out.

“I guess you aren’t the killer after all, or maybe you have an accomplice helping you to throw police off your trail,” Randy said in a teasing way to you, huffing when you kicked at him. “Maybe it was you, Randy. Maybe you saw one too many Halloweens and thought you’d take some inspo,” you said as you put your head back onto Sidney’s lap. “Yeah, Randy’s a perfect killer. He probably did it because you wouldn’t sleep with him,” Stu added, making the group laugh except for Randy. “And who says it wasn’t you, Stu? Maybe you got jealous of her seeing your girlfriend's tits more than you,” Randy retorted, making Stu laugh as he looked at you. “Yeah, what's to say it wasn’t me trying to gut you tonight?” Stu asked in a teasing manner, Tatum hitting his shoulder as Billy sounded in. “Can you two idiots shut up about it? Watch the fucking movie,” he huffed out. “Billy’s right guys, I just want to relax tonight. I don’t want to hear about that stupid fucking mask anymore,” you huffed out. You didn’t want to admit it, but your heart was a little hurt. You had been obsessed with the killings, you didn’t think Weary had killed Maureen, you think it was someone who was still on the loose, the same someone who killed Casey and Steve. The use of knives, the fact that no one saw their face, and how they were killed, it was all too coincidental. You spent over a whole year obsessing over them, only to be betrayed and nearly killed. You were almost killed by the one person who made you feel alive again, someone who brought you excitement, you were hurt by that.

“I’m gonna grab a beer, anyone else want one,” Stu asked as everyone chimed in. “Then someone come and help,” he demanded as he stood, you got off of Sidney’s lap and stood up, “I’ll help. Got anything other than shitty beer down there?” You questioned as he laughed, “I think,” he replied as you two headed down to the garage.

“You know, I’m surprised the horror hottie would follow someone all alone to a dark place,” Stu teased, earning him a shove to his shoulder. “Shut up, Stu. Everyone knows you would probably go searching through my underwear drawer before trying to kill me,” you laughed, “who says I didn’t?” He questioned, making you stumble in your walk for a moment. “Chill out, I was with Tate on the phone while it was going on. I’m just fucking with you,” He chuckled, opening up the fridge and handing you the beers. “Got patron or hard lemonade, take your pick,” he hummed, you pointed at the lemonade. “Hey, Randy’s getting cut off the dumbass keeps talking about his theories,” you heard Billy from the doorway, Stu laughing as he took one of the beers from your hands. “More for me then,” Stu said as he closed the fridge. You turned and saw Billy looking at you, a bit more intensely than his usual crazy eyes. “What? Scared to be near the girl who almost got killed,” you joked as he flashed a smile. “No, surprised you’re still alive though.” “Same here,” Stu said as he looked at Billy, Billy narrowed his eyes at Stu for a moment before he went over to you to help with the beers. “Maybe ghostface has a thing for you or something,” Billy said as you laughed. “Doubt it, I think he got scared that my parents were getting home,” you said, which was partially true, but you couldn’t deny that maybe your obsession helped you survive tonight. “Maybe you have a thing for ghostface then,” Stu chimed in, making your head whip to him. You blushed, shaking your head, “as if,” you huffed out, giving a little laugh to cover up your nervousness.

Time passed by quickly that night, you all spent the night drinking and watching movies, mostly horror movies involving Jamie Lee Curtis since Stu insisted on watching them. Tate was cooped up in Stu’s room with him, Randy had passed out on the couch and Sidney and Billy were probably in the guest room fast asleep. You had snuck out into the backyard, letting your mind wander once again as you stared up at the stars. Your phone began to ring, you stared at it and debated answering before seeing it was Sidney’s number. You sighed and picked it up, wondering if she needed anything. “Hey,” you answered, hearing a familiar voice. “The Machers, huh? Don’t you know not to split up?” The voice questioned, making you sit up. “You let me live, why are you calling?” You asked, looking around before standing and heading back for the door to get inside. “I wanted to talk to my fan, I saw all your papers. Thought you would like a phone call, or are you mad I didn’t slit that pretty little throat,” the person taunted as you messed around with the doorknob, it had locked behind you when you left. “That was before I realized I was on your kill list,” you retorted, heading around the house to the front door to wake Randy up. “No hard feelings, it was before I realized you were a fan. Leave your window open when you’re back at home. I would like to see what my pretty little fan is willing to do for not slitting her throat.” The killer said, chuckling as you blushed a little, about to respond before you heard the beeping that indicated they had hung up. You smiled slightly, happy that they wanted to see you again.

The front door opened, Billy looking at you with panicked eyes and a knife in hand. “Jesus, I thought you were the weirdo, I heard you trying to open the back door,” he said, making you laugh a bit. “Yeah, sorry, the back door was locked,” you said as he moved out of the doorway. “Come on, get inside before you end up like Casey,” he said as you walked in, “not funny, Billy.” You said as you yawned. “Mind if I crash with you and Sid? I don’t want Randy to make any passes,” you asked as Billy laughed, heading to the kitchen to put up the knife. “Be my guest, you and Sid can have the bed, I’ll take the floor.” “What a gentleman,” you teased. “Shut up before I let Randy take a stab at you.” He said, mimicking a stabbing movement as you laughed and pushed him.

#poly!ghostface #poly!ghostface x reader #billy loomis #stu macher #scream au #poly!ghostface x female reader #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #scream x reader #scream1996 #scream 1996 #scream #billy x stu x reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader #obsessed!reader

2K notes · View notes