#if you don't like something - block the fucking tag and move on
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I just made a long-ass post to vent but decided against hitting that damn button. It's not worth it.
Tag your anti posts for gods sake folks, nobody wants to hear those takes.
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well that poll game made me think about the biggest fish for the first time in a while
#keeping the rest in the tags because i don't yet feel overly confident abt it#i think eönwë/eärwen dynamic is very fun to consider esp in context of eönwë/eärwen/finarfin#they both respect each other and appreciate the impact the other had on finarfin's life. however they also think the other sucks#and that they're a better partner than the other#from eärwen's pov it's “i'm literally his wife you don't get further than that. sorry”#somewhat caused by the insecurity abt their only recently back to normal relationship#for eönwë it's “yeah sorry i don't think going no contact for a few centuries and leaving him completely alone is something i'd do. sad!”#eönwë CAN understand her on the logical level but also deep down he thinks that abandoning finarfin (or like anyone you love) is the worst#thing someone can do. sorry#(yes finarfin abandoned her first. he felt very bad about it later ok. also he came back so doesn't really count.)#and they CAN tolerate each other and even convince themselves they don't mind each other at all except they Do#it's not “i hate you and think you should disappear” issue. it's “i'm frustrated with you for reasons i can't articulate”#“and also for making me laugh occasionally and for being so fucking smart and lowkey hot. pretend i didn't say the last sentence”#so they end up being snipy at each other and somewhat passive-agressive and also I Love Finarfin Better Than You Sorry. Now Move#and meanwhile finarfin is like hey can you move a bit. yeah your psychosexual staredown with my wife blocks drawer acces. yes thank you#the biggest fish#<- i'll NEED to come up with a better title#feel free to ask me abt this if you want! or dm if you're a mutual
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whats hers is mine | abby anderson
tags: eighteen+, wlw, sexual content, gf’s roommate!abby, toxic!abby, cheating (don't go cheating on your partners this is for fantasy purposes babe), abby fr is menance in this.
an. yeah! i was horny so...this literally came out of my brain so smoothly. do i hate it? yes. but am i still going to post it nd fight my brain telling me not to? yeah! happy reading my h*rny pals.
abby being your girlfriend’s roommate who you harbor a slight attraction towards. it’s nothing big, you have this under control, or at least it’s what you tell yourself. she’s hot, gorgeous, so incredibly muscular it makes you see stars. it tears you apart thinking of all the ways her strength could make you submit to her will.
make you hers.
fuck. but you have a girlfriend.
it’s a reminder you have to repeat over in your mind anytime you catch yourself being too flirty with her, but then she gives it to you right back. now, every night you dream of her milky skin, stunning blues looking right at you, and those soft lips caressing every inch of your skin, leaving marks in their path as abby stakes her claim. yet, you wake up with your girlfriend’s arm around you with your chest feeling warm at the fantasy of someone else. you have to avoid abby before you do something completely idiotic.
yet, she’s the first one to make the first move.
abby knows you’ve been avoiding her like the plague, so when she’s presented with a perfect opportunity, the conflict at hand is met with absolutely no resistance.
“abby, you’ve blocked my car in. can you move yours?” you ask through the shut door. she gives you a soft yes and when you’re two seconds from walking downstairs to meet her in the driveway.
she opens the fucking bathroom door.
water drips down sunkissed freckled skin, glistening from the shower she obviously took. her blonde hair darker than usual, falling down her back. the smirk there is vile, begging you to look further than her blue eyes.
with the way abby is looking at you, there’s no fucking way she doesn’t want it. clearly, she’s more patient than most, waiting for you to drop the eye contact.
“well?” abby lifts her left eyebrows, cocking her head to the side as she waits for you to react, crumble, cry. you’re not sure what exactly she’s looking for. the confidence radiating from her is irritating just as it is enticing.
when you shake your head silently, repeatedly too, the tall blonde takes a one step forward, the pad of her thumb places pressure on your chin, guiding your gaze where she wants. happily, you comply.
jesus fucking christ, you’d fully believe she was made just for you if someone told you.
the auburn towel is secured around hips loosely, her toned abdomen on full display, her small breasts sit beautifully, nipples hardened from the cool air. it’s not fair how fucking perfect she looks. there’s not a damn thing you want more than to wrap your lips around her pink nipples and suck.
“now, are you going to stop pretending you don’t want to fuck me, baby?” abby taunts, her voice light and airy but it shoots right to your core.
“i-i, abby, this is wrong we shouldn’t be doing this. you need to get dressed.” you try to great some distance but abby pulls you towards her as you enter the bathroom with her, left arm shutting the door as she locks it.
“mhm, you’ve been dating for what? two months? don’t be stupid baby, think with that pretty pussy of yours. know she wants me and you do too, babygirl.” abby grabs your hand placing it on her towel, looking at you through half-lidded eyes.
“you can take it off if you want. do you wanna see my pussy baby?”
shit.
your fingertip plays with the fibers, before you can process what you’re doing, it’s unraveling off her strong hips exposing more of her built physique for your greedy eyes. quads are flexing as you take her in, the muscle rippling as you feast on her.
you have never been so truly and royally fucked.
meticulously, she removes each piece of clothing you’re wearing as her lips attack your own. as if she’s been planning this moment since she laid eyes on you. she bends you over the sink, your pretty ass in the air for her and her fingers smooth over your delectable cunt, enjoying the inconsistent twitching your taut body provides.
“now, be a good girl for me and let me fuck my baby, yeah? ‘m gonna fuck you better than she ever would.”
reblogs are appreciated! ♡
DO NOT BUY TLOU, FUCK NEIL DRUCKMANN + EDUCATE YOURSELF + DAILY CLICK FOR PALESTINE + DONATE TO PALESTINE.
#what the fuck#took me longer to set up this post than to write it ...#abby anderson#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x masc reader#abby anderson smut#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson x you#abby tlou#tlou x reader
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I'm growing more exhausted with this community's fucking behavior
Vent under cut
I've talked privately before about this but I'm so sick and tired of Rise Twitter behavior on this site. Legit that's why I LEFT.
Y'all are so ready to call people and things fucked up lables instead of leaving well enough alone. You're taking shit at fave value and refusing to budge on things.
I'm gonna rip the band-aid off:
THESE CHARACTERS ARE NOT REAL AND NOT EVERYTHING WILL BE CATERED TO YOU
They aren't gonna behave or act how you think they should and they're tools to tell a story. No matter the type of story no matter how dark and no matter how kid friendly it is.
Don't like April x Any of the turtles because you feel that's incest. Block tags and the artists and move on.
Don't like Tcest? Block the tags and artists and move on.
Don't like an artist/author because they create adult turtle nsfw, block the tags and creator and move on.
But no. Instead y'all rather labe people as things. And I seen this community label folks with shit with no context, no evidence or ignoring jokes.
And majority of you all are adults encouraging this behavior from minors and honestly that's predatory and sad. ESPECIALLY IF YOU'RE ENCOURAGING HARASSMENT TOWARDS MINORS
No one is a "neutral", or a "proshipper" and evil because they don't care for something you deem problematic. No one is a "tcester " because they choose to ignore your weird witch hunt for an artist who "could be a tcester".
The amount of dms I have gotten claiming a few of my moots are tcesters, and when I ask for evidence y'all get allergic to evidence real fast regardless of the topic💅
If you read this far lemme make this clear:
I don't ship tcest, April x Any of the turtles, Casey Jr x Any of the turtles, or any other ship or content seen problematic for my personal reasons.
But I do not care if other people doing public or private. And have those tags blocked and it does the job for me and I leave those creators ALONE.
TLDR: STOP HARASSING AND BULLYING PEOPLE JUST BECAUSE TGEY MAKE SOMETHING THAT ISN'T CATTERED TO YOU.
#rottmnt#rise of the tmnt#unpause rise of the tmnt#save rottmnt#rise movie#rise of teenage mutant ninja turtles
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i mean realistically many people do deserve to be the victims of targeted harassment campaigns. if you're being an asshole you deserve to be screamed at by everyone present until you stop. some people commit acts of cruelty and subsequently forfeit their reasonable right to participate in society until they've made amends.
the people of wendy's have a moral right to scream at the manager if said manager sprays them in the neck with milkshake every time they go to pick up their order
damn following up the last ask, ig it was someone in ur notes constructing an equivalence between @tting staff and getting nuked to yelling at a wendy's manager and getting kicked out. my bad lol thought that was part of ur main post
I mean this is something that's still worthwhile to bounce off of even though you're not actually responding to me.
First of all, no, I pretty much don't think that anybody deserves to be the focus of a targeted harassment campaign. At least not the kind that are spun up on tumblr or twitter. I generally think that targeted harassment campaigns don't work to change minds, they only work to torment, isolate, and attack people, which will often further entrench them in their positions.
Sometimes people doing serious antifascist work will make a discovery like, for instance "the principal of X school is a vicious antisemite" and will run an *exposure* campaign to get them removed from a position of power, but with very few exceptions when you see an online callout post for a random internet user it's nothing but abuse and an attempt to bully them off of a specific website, not an attempt to protect victims or inform people of a genuine threat. "ABC is the new alt of this person with a documented history of starting cults, DNI, block and move on" is very different than "This specific user who is on staff posts harry potter fanart and is why fascists continue to exist on tumblr, let's make sure they know what tumblr thinks of them."
You are trying to frame bullying campaigns as normal consequences for antisocial behavior, but the antisocial behaviors under discussion here are "user posted fanart broadly disliked by the community and associated with specific ideologies long after the initial fandoms were crystallized" and "is the CEO of a social media website that is implementing features that the users dislike."
"People deserve to be screamed at until they stop the bad behavior" is punitive and shitty and so broad and open to so many interpretations that you're basically saying "it's open season on screaming at people." I think that it's bad behavior to support neoliberal political candidates who prop up capitalism but it would be horrible for me to run harassment campaigns against everyone who says "vote blue no matter who" even though I think that attitude perpetuates real world harms. (And it also wouldn't convince those people to change their minds! The fact that I think they are doing something harmful doesn't give me the social license to send hundreds of people to harass them! And it wouldn't work! These kinds of campaigns don't effect change they just isolate people and erode trust and civility jesus fuck we need to be coalition building not posting callouts over whatever activity has been deemed "freak behavior" this week)
some people commit acts of cruelty and subsequently forfeit their reasonable right to participate in society until they've made amends.
oh buddy, I think I get where you're coming from here but considering the kinds of behavior under discussion this is just straight up fascist. You are literally saying that people should be banished from society for wrongthink because nobody under discussion here has actually committed an act of cruelty.
(one of the things that i'm putting under the heading of "tumblr conspiracist thinking" is "staff is currently and continually intentionally flagging certain LGBTQ tags and bloggers" - there is ample evidence that the current staff is working to unfuck flagging and blocked tags that was done long before this crew was working on it. People talk about "tumblr had to settle because their filtering disproportionately impacted lgbtq+ creators" and that is TRUE however that was a filter that was established under different owners with different policies and different staff; the implication that the current staff is guilty of trying to stifle LGBTQ+ content because a lawsuit started before the Automattic purchase of tumblr ended in a financial settlement is just bad, wrong, incorrect, faulty logic. And if I might indulge in a bit of my own conspiracist thinking: I actually suspect a lot of the flagging and tagging and blocking of trans women specifically might actually be targeted attacks of individual users by terfs - many of the things that are getting flagged as needing a community label are things that use tags that terfs follow to attack and if enough users click "this needs a community label" the post will get flagged - I don't know that that's what's going on but just operating on occam's razor I think it's a lot more likely that terfs are coordinating attacks on trans people than that there is a secret group of cryptoterfs on staff taking time out of their day to ensure that trans users get flagged, if only because I think that the vocally trans positive former members of the staff would have said something about it.)
So, given that my position is "it is unlikely that anyone on staff is intentionally targeting LGBTQ+ groups HOWEVER prior policies enacted harm against LGBTQ+ groups and there is visible evidence that the current staff is trying to repair that damage" I'm not seeing any behaviors here that call for individual employees or users to get targeted with harassment from thousands of users.
But anyway, back to the specifics of the ask:
some people commit acts of cruelty and subsequently forfeit their reasonable right to participate in society until they've made amends.
Do you have any idea how frequently amends are made and never circulated as widely as the callout post? Do you have any idea how frequently callout posts are incorrect, and exaggerate the things that need to be amended? I'm reminded of Lindsey Ellis, who was the victim of a years-long targeted harassment campaign and made multiple apologies over the years who was finally driven off of her primary platform because she carelessly misspoke and the people who had been targeting her for years were able to make a post that she had long disavowed and was a relic of her dealing with the aftermath of sexual violence go viral. The internet doesn't let people make amends; people see accusations. They see the first post, not the follow up. That's why starting these campaigns is shitty and dangerous even if you *personally* believe that you'll forgive an individual once they "make amends." (and the "amends" people usually demand are "i want this person gone from the internet forever and cut out of this part of their life" - that's not really something that's fair to ask of people when so much of the world is online these days.)
the people of wendy's have a moral right to scream at the manager if said manager sprays them in the neck with milkshake every time they go to pick up their order
No they don't. Straight up. If the manager of a wendy's sprays you in the neck with a milkshake you have the right to escalate your complaint right up the chain, take your business away and never come back, warn other people "hey the manager sprayed me with a milkshake, stay away," but you don't have the moral right to escalate the situation by screaming at them (and you certainly don't have that right if you happened to get sprayed with some milkshake while the manager was attempting to fix the frostee machine when you came to pick up your order, which I think is actually more analogous to what is happening here).
someone in ur notes constructing an equivalence between @tting staff and getting nuked to yelling at a wendy's manager and getting kicked out
A big point that I think you're missing here is that @-ing staff when there is a problem on a post or you see harassment is generally pretty acceptable (though much less effective than filing a support claim), but the issue under discussion isn't @-ing staff, it was pointing thousands of angry people at two specific people who are *part* of staff and holding those two individuals responsible for all the problems that users see with tumblr.
partyjockers got nuked because their post directed a flood of harassment at one staff member in a post where they had highlighted that user's URL and name:
This is explicitly saying "users like the one I screenshotted are the reason you're being attacked by terfs" because one member of staff posted fanart from two franchises that tumblr-the-userbase has deemed off limits.
(Do you have any idea how extreme a bubble this is? Do you walk into barnes and noble and sigh because the managers are fascists who want trans people dead because there's harry potter merch everywhere? JK rowling is a terf and a horrible fucking person and I am no longer personally comfortable engaging with that fandom but people posting fanart of a franchise are not personally attacking you even if it feels like they are disregarding your humanity; you cannot consider other people's participation in huge, popular, mainstream fandoms as a sign that they are plotting against you this is why i'm calling this conspiracist thinking the entire scorched earth conspiracy spawned from someone interpreting a staff member's art as esoteric signposts signalling their hatred of trans people. Do you remember when the stupid harry potter game came out and this entire website was despondent because it meant that people didn't care about trans people? That's not actually what it meant! What it meant is that the vast majority of people on the planet have neither a twitter nor a tumblr account and have no idea how shitty JK rowling is to trans people and they don't interpret "harry potter imagery" as "covert terf signal" they interpret it as "possibly the most mainstream fantasy series in the last fifty years")
This isn't someone calling out the manager after they spray you with a milkshake. The manager asking someone to leave after they started screaming that the cashier's earrings were hate speech.
This analogy got out of hand but please just understand that there's a difference between @-ing an account that people are paid to monitor as part of their jobs and that they have support and coworkers to help with and @-ing someone's personal account.
Nobody got a post deleted because the used @ staff, they got their posts deleted because they focused viral negative attention on individual users.
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Sharing a night in a shitty apartment
written for @steddieholidaydrabbles
prompt: only one bed | rating: t | wc: 756 | tags: pre-steddie
Steve offered to let Eddie stay at his place in the aftermath of Vecna. But forgets to mention its a shitty apartment with only one bed.
For the first time since moving, Steve was thankful that the communal areas of the apartment block were poorly lit. It was something that he, and his neighbors, had raised to the landlord multiple times, but it never got fixed. But now, the darkness gave the perfect cover for him to smuggle Eddie into his apartment, for a place to lay low until Dr Owens and his band of government goons swept into town to clean up the mess caused by the Upside Down. Something that didn't help, was that they were both injured and he had a fourth floor walk up.
He fumbled for his keys to unlock the door, and they both made their way in to collapse on the couch, not even caring that they hadn't changed since coming out of the Upside Down. When Steve could think a little more clearly, he would be happy that he had an old and ugly couch that he kept covered with a blanket.
"I don't want to sound ungrateful or anything, it's really cool of you to let me stay with you. But when you said I could hide out at your place, I thought you meant Loch Nora. Not this... cozy set up you have with far too many fucking stairs." Eddie said after he'd had a chance to catch his breath.
"My parents sold up the place in Loch Nora, five, six months ago. And didn't extend an offer for me to move with them. This is what I could get on short notice, and on my Family Video salary." Steve explained.
"Shit, your parents suck." Eddie replied, stretching out. "Any chance of a shower, I feel gross after a week on the run."
"Yeah. Bathroom's over there, the door on the left. Just try not to take too long, the hot water is temperamental, and I need to shower off the Upside Down too."
"I get it, dude. I live in a trailer. Sometimes we're lucky if we get five minutes before the hot water shuts off." Eddie said, pulling himself to his feet. "At least the bats didn't get me as much as they could have."
"Let me just wash the dirt off my hands, and I'll find you a towel and some clothes." Steve went into the bathroom first, spending much longer than usual scrubbing his hands clean. Once he was done, he pulled a towel out of the closet. "Feel free to use any of the soap and shampoo and conditioner. I'll leave some clothes outside for you. Just don't lock the door, it sticks."
Steve went into his bedroom, pulling out sweatpants, t-shirts, and underwear for each of them. He knocked on the bathroom door as the shower cut out. "Eddie, I've got some clothes for you."
A few seconds later, the door opened and Eddie stuck his hand out. "Thanks Harrington."
Once Eddie was done with the bathroom, Steve took his chance to shower off the Upside Down. He then gathered their clothes, towels, and the blanket off the couch into a pile, ready to take to the laundromat. Or burn, maybe.
He found Eddie in the bedroom, trying to look like he hadn't just been snooping.
"I think I'm going to turn in. The most sleep I've got this week was in an armchair in the Wheeler's basement. I doubt you feel much better." Steve said as he pulled back the covers on his bed.
"Yeah. Um, do you have a spare pillow and blanket or something? I can go set up on the couch." Eddie offered, looking uncomfortable.
"Oh, shit. No, you're not sleeping on the couch. It's way too small and uncomfortable. We can share the bed, as long as you don't steal the covers." Steve replied, patting the space next to him.
Eddie looked at him hesitantly for a long moment, before climbing in next to Steve.
The next morning, Steve woke to Eddie practically on top of him. Something about the weight was calming to him, holding off the state of panic he usually found himself in for weeks after an encounter with the Upside Down. And he'd slept much better too, the nightmares that he always got in the aftermath not making their appearance yet. He knew they should get up, to be ready to regroup and face whatever happened next. But he felt too at peace to let the world bother him in the moment. So, instead, he snuggled deeper into Eddie's embrace, and allowed himself to doze back off.
#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve x eddie#pre steddie#steddieholidaydrabbles#only one bed#atimeofyourwrites
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how to adapt into dtblr culture for twitter refugees
so you've decided to move here from twitter. welcome and congratulations. this post is basically a big warning that goes THIS ISN'T TWITTER, DON'T BEHAVE LIKE IT IS, LEAVE THAT AT THE DOOR
i'll be teaching you two things, how the site works, and how to adapt your behavior to tumblr ( and really, normal human being ) culture. believe me, it's not that hard and it will actually feel very productive
let's start with the basics and frequent questions
your username can be anything, don't stress about it
your picture can be anything. a lot of us don't even have dteam related stuff up on our profile
your display name doesn't have to be your name. nobody is going to see it when you post, only usernames are visible
check your settings. do it. get familiar with them. turning on and off asks, turning anon off, turning submissions off. click on your blog, go to blog settings, check things there, go to account, your muted things will be there, go to dashboard and customize that. use your settings !!!
yes, pinned posts are fairly important and they tend to be pretty extensive. name age what you post about ( a lot of people here are multifandom !), just don't overshare ( no locations no trigger lists i beg you ). they also usually have a breakdown of your tags at the end
tags
it's a whole thing. some are actually useful. some are just passive commentary
the tags you put on posts ( both when you made the post and when you're reblogging something ) are both global and hosted on your profile. it's why you'll see things like "nameofperson art" rather than just "art". using just "art" will put you in the promoted tag, in this case
you can use spaces on your tags
usually you will tag what type of post you're making ( art, text post, ask post ), and then the contents
keep in mind this is how people often mute things, some people tag the current situation, people use and mute ship tags. but this is also how people find things, like the specific asks from one person to another, so "username ask" is commonly used, "irl person ( dream, dnf, etc )" is also seen a lot
just watch how others tag things and copy them. nobody will get offended you took their tag formatting, most of us will appreciate properly tagged posts
you do tag when you reblog people. you use tags to comment on things. don't really use replies unless you're, saying thank you to someone or pointing out a spell mistake or asking to add an option to a poll, etc. we don't do replies, just rb your reply
quick reblog and like deets
post popularity is measured in "notes" which is the sum of replies, reblogs and likes. we don't really care much about numbers here and if you start getting crazy about it people will not like it. this is more of a talking and showing site
you can reblog without tags, feel free to
you can hide your likes. you can and should like as many things as you want. they don't alter any algorithm, since there's none. a like is a "i saw this post" notification to the poster
actually posting
people talk a lot. a fucking lot, and it's something you will have to get used to, because it's very different from twitter
there are no qrts. callouts are looked down upon. breathe. if you don't like something MUTE IT DON'T POST ABOUT IT, because no one is going to listen to any callouts. you will have to learn to live with the fact people like things you don't. this will, with time, make you feel very free
the bulk of posting here is asks, as you might notice soon. asks are fun and encouraged. just don't name drop if you're talking about drama please ?
don't be scared to send asks off anon, this is how people will find you and get to know you really. people are also more likely to reply to you
block bait anons. yes you can block anons. yes it will block every blog they make
culture time
i've said this. tumblr is unserious. drama here is approached very differently and with several less layers of panic. you will see death threats. you will see slurs ( said in non derogatory ways ). you will see jokes about serious topics. you will see people say "i didn't like this" and nobody will care
tumblr is a community of individualism. you will like your own things within the thing we share we like. you might not like dream's music, you might not find irl streams entertaining, as long as you're fucking normal about it ? nobody will care and you're free to express your opinions. people will even come ask you about it and just have a chat. we're here for the same content to some degree
tumblr is also a bunch of people who understand they like another bunch of people. that none of the streamers have stopped being human. so you might see people defend things that, maybe, you'd not have thought to defend before. maybe you're even uncomfortable seeing them defending it. this is something you will experience a lot, and you'll learn to properly deal with it as time passes
because again. no one does callouts here unless it is extremely bad. no one cares if you don't really like them. and they also accept people might and will not like them. and that is fine. and that doesn't make either person horrible. you're just different people. and you don't even have to interact
you want to make friends ? ask people things, compliment people's work, genuinely attempt to make conversation. this is not an impersonal website the way twitter is. people don't care about your opinions because they care about you, and you are more than what you don't like
the more positive and jokey and interactive you are the more people will talk to you. there's no "hitting the algorithm", there's no "engagement", it's just people talking to people. so don't be a neg posting bot, and be a person
you will learn to be less miserable. you learn to stop giving a shit and just do what makes you happy. they cannot get you here. there's no qrts. the few antis you'll find can be blocked and you'll never have to directly interact with one. don't be mean to the people in your own community, even if you disagree
again, you are more than what you don't like. learn to be what you like instead. and leave the dooming at the door
#pyon long post#if you have any questions feel free to ask#i will be happy to attach them with a reblog
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Collegebf! Nanami and Yn fooling around and making out in the dorms 👀👀👀?? Ugh my head is filled with FILTHY thought for this man 😭
making out with collegebf! nanami kento!
tags: suggestive, making out, choking (kind of, not rlly), hinted hand kink, mentions of hickeys, thats it, gn! reader
notes: literally ME TOO especially after this jjk season 2 trailer just dropped, i am having MAJOR brainrot with this man. (this was supposed to be done three weeks ago but writers block 🤕)
you didn't intend this to happen but with nanami on top of you, his legs straddling each side of your body while one hand is pinning yours to the bed and the other is wrapped around your neck and his lips dancing around with yours, it seems like this was on purpose.
his blonde hair that was once neatly slicked to the side, how it usually is, was now a mess. his hair stuck onto his face, whether it was due to how the hot the room was or how close to you he was, he didn't know and he didn't care. he was all over you, hands running up and down your sides, grasping any and every piece of skin he found. and oh my god, he was entranced with you.
today was the day you finally finished moving into your college dorm, everything was unpacked with the help from your friends, family and nanami, your boyfriend. and to no one's surprise, nanami had already moved in, a week before you did so he had all the free time to help you. and when he found out your dorm was no less than a hallway down from his, he couldn't help but let his thoughts become plagued with you.
"thank you guys. i'll finish the rest of my clothes myself, you can go now. bye bye, thank you." you said as you sent off both your parents and friends. "kento, you too. i don't know when my roommate will be back." nanami hummed softly as if he was in agreement with you but he did nothing to start leaving. "kento, seriously, i don't want to set a bad impression on my roommate by having a guy over already."
"mhm." he hummed once again, not listening to a word you said as he sat down on your bed. "kent-" the words escaped your lips as nanami pulled you in by the waist, hands wrapped around your body as you fell on top of him. you stumbled over nothing but you could've sworn something was there to trip you for you to end up like this. nanami's eyes were stuck on you. his eyes beamed with love but with the hint of mischievousness under the dimmed dorm lighting. his hands and yours were intertwined as nanami tilted his head up for a kiss. you take one glance down at his lips before looking over at the door, your ears perking up for any footsteps approaching. "just one kiss, i swear i'll leave after this." you hear nanami say, although you know damn well he won't.
this is what makes you think, you know for a such a serious academic student, he sure does play around a lot with you. you feel like a teenager again around nanami. you quickly meet his lips which only causes nanami to smile against you. a small hushed laugh comes out of his mouth before he completes the kiss, his hands coming up to push your hair out of your face. the kiss only lasts for a few seconds before you pull away, you aren't going to fall into his trap, well, at least not this time. "okay, that was one kiss, you can leave now." you mention his deal from just a minute ago however, it seems nanami has forgotten this as he hums in confusion while he presses soft kisses on your neck, surely with the best intentions.
"nanami kento, i swear, my roommate-" you want to warn him yet as your voices cracks due to his persistent kisses against your skin, you shut your mouth and just wish really fucking badly that your roommate does not walk through that door anytime soon.
nanami's lips are all over you, his breath tickles down your neck as he leaves small kisses near your shoulder. once again all nanami does is hum at your warning, well it's baseless to him anyway. his teeth tug at small parts of your skin to leave marks of some kind, wanting to mark you as his. as if your phone lockscreen, his initials on a necklace and your very apparent promise ring wasn't enough to show that already. his hands hold your neck, not enough to choke you but to hold you in place. your mouth opens in a squeak, your eyes followed his every movement. you ran your fingers through his ruffled blonde hair, nanami letting out a low groan as you did so.
his university sweatshirt the one that matches yours was becoming too hot for him. maybe it was you, maybe it was him, or maybe the dorm, he didn't know. he didn't get the time to think about it before he crashed his lips onto yours. his hands cradling your neck to get you closer to him as if you weren't close to him enough. "god, i love you so much." he mumbles into your lips finding himself way too entranced with you.
as soon as nanami connects his lips with yours, your heart rate picks up. you swear you could hear it from a mile away. it was beating so loudly but the only thing you could hear was your synced breaths with his. with each inhale, nanami deepened the kiss, his teeth biting your bottom lip, as if pleading for more. nanami needs more and so let him. your roommate was the last thing on your mind as you feel nanami's hand slide under your shirt. his hands are cold but nanami feels like he's on fire.
all you can think about is him, your lips moved together and all you can taste is him. the slight taste of coffee slips right into your mouth, probably from the coffee he had earlier this morning. you can't help but want to devour him more as your lips wrapped around each other. your heart was pounding and your stomach couldn't help but twist in butterflies from the way his cologne filled your senses. a small scent of a fragrant citrus with a hint of an earthy saffron. maybe you smelled hints floral and ocean breeze on him but as you continued to breathe him in, you couldn't help but to get drunk off of him. your head is starting to get dizzy. was it because of the lack of oxygen flowing in you or was it because of nanani, you didnt know but you didn't want to stop.
but then the door handle turned, voices were heard and footsteps coming to a hault. the silence was deafening as you stared at your roommate and back. your body froze in the act, even though you weren't doing anything scandalous (yet), you felt like a deer caught in the bright headlights in the dark. and finally all nanami could do was laugh softly, as your roommate murmed something about being back later. "i guess i get to have more time with you."
"kento, get out."
#guys i want him#he would look so attractive in a hoodie and comfortable wear#i need to bite him#nanami fluff#nanami kento fluff#nanami smut#nanami kento smut#jjk fluff#jujustu kaisen fluff#jjk smut#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#jjk x reader#omgjumin
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Kinktober Day 4: Stalking/Obsession
Stalking/Obsession - Eyeless Jack X F!Reader
Warnings: DUB CON, breeding kink, biting, marking
AN: I don't speak Polish so forgive me </3. ALSO this is a take on my dear @creepynoodleheadcannons's prompt featuring EJ on Day 19 from their 2022 Kinktober. Will tag the fic HERE.
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST
Reblogs are appreciated!
In the darkness of your room, you sat curled in your sheets with the feeling of dread coursing through your veins. Sweat ran down your brow, down the back of your neck and soaked your bed as you stared at your window. You saw his shadow looming just outside, a monstrous being that had been tormenting you for the first half of the year. Your heart thumped wildly in your chest like a little rabbit about to be caught in the jaws of a wolf as his claws scratched against it.
He’d never been so bold before.
When he first started, he was silent. His sharp claws played with the seams of your mind, delicately lifting the fragile threads before popping them up and breaking them, reveling in the sound of the strings snapping. It was small. A coffee cup you’d thrown away with your lipstick marks had gone missing but you assumed you’d managed to throw it out somewhere else. The hairs from your brush had been cleaned out but weren’t in the trash. Some of your clothing had gone missing. You assumed that you were becoming increasingly forgetful, but your underwear going missing? Your still full shampoo and conditioner bottles disappearing?
And then he revealed himself. You thought you’d accidentally summoned a demon when he first appeared in the corner of your eye. He was always there, watching, waiting, and so fucking persistent. The way he spoke about you was deranged, like you were the only thing he craved in the entirety of his life. He spoke of how sweet you’d be - his final meal, the feast to end all others.
“Go… Go away,” you shakily cried out while you dug your face into the pillow in an attempt to fend him off. But you knew it was a useless attempt. Tonight was the night he’d finally make you his and devour you whole. Your body shook with fear as you watched the shadow of his hands move sluggishly, like he wawa toying with you on how slow he could be. Toying with you, building up his own anticipation with glee. You heard Polish spill from his lips, or maybe an archaic form of it, and like magic, the window flew open. It invited the colder of October air into your room, red and orange leaves spilled across your floor as his large form blocked out the light of the moon herself.
“You don’t really mean that,” he purred. His voice was deep and laced with a Slavic accent that sung with the cadence of ancient gods and their demons. His face was hidden by a mask, a dark pool of inky blue while the eye sockets wept with tar. If you looked close enough, you could see the knife marks of where it had been carved a very, very long time ago. He slipped through your window despite his size. Your nose filled with his scent. Musk. The earth. Iron. Smoke from campfires not long doused. Ammonia.
Your stomach wanted to wretch at the very smell of him. Fear stoked every part of your body as you pried your eyes away from your pillow and peeked up at him. He was large, much too large. The moonlight framed him as dark and imposing. He was strong, you knew that, and his skin was the color of ash. And for a creature that seemed to take joy in pursuing a much more human form, he still reeked of otherworldly. His legs were cloven, like that of a black goat, and his teeth were sharp, slightly yellowed and large like that of an apex predator. Roots and the earth seemed to crawl up his legs like the earth itself wanted to reclaim him, and his joints didn’t seem to fit him right. His elbows, his knees, shoulders, everything was popped into place haphazardly, a vessel to contain something much larger than what he was born as.
He took advantage of your fear as you looked up at him. His grin only widened behind his mask. He crawled up your bed, caging you in with his body. His clawed hands traced your warm body as you balled up in a weak attempt to shut him out from you.
“Please, don’t,” you murmur as you watch his clawed hands crawl up your body. “I already told you no-”
He gave you a look from behind his mask before reaching his hand upwards to remove it. His arm moved over to rest it on your nightstand, as if he were making himself comfortable. His mouth was curled upwards into a grin, large and knowing.
“Come now, kochanie moje. Don’t be so frigid towards me. Open up. Let me in.” His sharp talons moved to cut your clothes from your body, not caring about your cries of protest. “You cannot resist me forever,” he whispered in your ear as your body trembled. “Try and fight as you may, your body calls for me, and I must answer. You were meant for this,” he breathed in your ear as you meekly held your hand up to his large chest in another attempt to push him off.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered.
“Tak kochanie,” he whispered back, “you do. I need you. Don’t you see what you’re doing to me? I need your body, your heart, your mind, your very soul,” he groaned as his hand traced your soft, supple skin. “I want to breed you to make you mine forever.”
His words sent chills down your spine as you shook like a leaf. You shook your head. “You can’t-”
“Don’t worry,” he purred once more, voice hungry and lusty, “I’ll make it feel good. I always do.”
You were almost snapped out of your fear from the second half of his sentence but found it quickly returned when his teeth sunk into your neck. “Oh fuck!” You yelped, feeling the warm blood from your neck bead downwards to drape your collarbone and your nape. “What the hell was that for?”
Jack didn’t immediately answer, only grinned and opened his mouth. A long, purple tongue slithered out and lapped at the teeth marks he’d left, a soft apology for drawing blood. “Mating mark,” he answered. “One of the many physical kinds I can give to you.”
You kept your mouth shut as you felt his hands barely leave you to the belt of his pants. He undid it, and then slowly pumped his cock. Large, knotted, that was all you could see in the darkness only illuminated by the moonlight. So distracted by how girthy and large he was and the fact you KNEW he wouldn’t fit inside of you, a cry ripped free from your throat as his other hand effortlessly pried your legs apart.
Jack’s clawed fingers easily moved down to your pussy, already wet from the budding anticipation. He cooed condescendingly. “Awh, and here I thought I would need to convince you even more.” His index and middle finger opened your lips up, and through the darkness, his sockets keyed in on your glistening pussy. “You were made for this, to please me, to be bred by me.” Slowly, he slid his index finger inside of you and watched through the darkness of your room as you bloomed for him. Heat painted your entire body, most notably your cheeks - Jack’s always had the ability to sort of ‘toggle’ thermal vision - and that’s where the heat was most notably concentrated. Well, that and definitely between your legs. Your pussy was burning for him. Needed to be filled, didn’t it?
His index finger was soon joined by his middle, and he stretched you out as best as he could. “You feel so warm, kochanie,” he grinned. “So soft and sweet, and you smell just as good too. Maybe I should get a taste before I take you,” he thought aloud.
Fearing retaliation, you hesitantly nodded. “Okay,” you squeaked like a deer caught in headlights. It didn’t help that your body seemed to call for him. Despite how much you knew this wasn’t good, your body squeezed around him. When his thumb circled your clit, you moaned softly, embarrassed that you showed him even a smidge of pleasure. He thumbed your clit some more and felt your hips buck up.
And he laughed. Jack laughed.
“See? I knew you couldn’t resist me.” After he fingered you a little bit more, enjoying the sounds of your soft moans and how you desperately tried to deny your true feelings towards him, he pulled his fingers out. “Do not pout,” he chuckled as he lifted his fingers to his lips. One of his tongues slithered out of his mouth once more before curling around his slick covered fingers. An obscene moan left his lips, and if he had eyes, you were sure that they would be rolling up. “Gods, you taste so good,” he praised. “So sugary and meaty,” he moaned again. “Perfectly made for me.”
Jack mounted you this time, the head of his cock pressed against your tight lips as he watched you squirm underneath him. It was magical to see you buck your hips up like you could hardly resist him. “Open up, kochanie,” he cooed as he started to push his thick cock into you. He grinned when your nails dug into his uncovered forearms while your eyes widened. “Wrap your legs around me and breathe. Take me. Take me,” he whispered again and again, his hips pushing closer and closer to your body as his cock split you open.
You did just that, legs wrapped tightly around his waist before moving your hands up to his back. Your nails dug into his hoodie while you pulled him tightly against you. Your heart rate skyrocketed as he pulled his hips back and then thrusted sharply forwards, the head of his cock hitting your cervix while not even fully hilted inside of you. His knot was thickly pressed against you, far too big for you to take, balls rested against your ass and heavy with cum. “Oh, oh my gods-” you wept as your body struggled to adjust to his size. He felt so big, every part of him.
“Bloom for me,” he urged as he started to thrust his hips. His lips danced across your neck as he cock filled you with every thrust. “My sweet, sweet girl,” he praised, “look at you. How beautiful you are.”
Your thighs were tense as he began to pick up the pace as you softly moaned for him, unable to deny any longer just how good Jack was making you feel. The tears that had welled in your eyes slipped down your cheeks but you unashamedly kept calling out for him. Your pussy felt so stretched open and still small as your slick gushed around him. You were soaking the bed from how good he stroked you. You arched your back slightly into his chest and tipped your head back to allow his lips to travel back up to your throat. You felt his teeth playfully move around where he’d already bitten you before softly biting you on the opposite side to mirror it.
“You’re mine now, kochanie. Mine now forever.” The sounds of your moans were like music to his ears as he listened to your moans and how your body grew closer and closer to being knotted. He’d breed you, and then you’d have no choice but to be his for all eternity.
#minors dni#eyeless jack x reader#eyeless jack x you#eyeless jack x y/n#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta x female reader#creepypasta x you#creepypasta x y/n
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heyyyy can I pls req something where Mike tries to make it up to the reader after he says something wrong in their 1st fight as a couple? like “I don’t want to lose you” as an apology and they get back together or something along those lines? tysm I really enjoy ur work :))
But of course!!!
Wanting, Waiting
Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader
Summery: Overworked and underfed, you'll go to sleep once some decent work is complete. However, a late night turns into a day long fight.
Tags: No use of Y/N, no gender specific pronouns for Reader, pre-established relationship, argument, cursing, Reader and Mike both got some shit going on, hints of an eating disorder, overworking, hurt/comfort, crying, mentions of: suicide/death, depression, drugging, and kidnapping. Vulnerability is gross.
Notes: 'Slip' walked so this could run full speed into a brick wall. I feel as though I may have redeemed myself.
▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎
This page is mocking me.
The hour is late. I stopped checking the clock around 2:00 A.M., and there's a cup of cold coffee right next to me on this table, several rings on the inside from where the coffee had been left sitting far too long. It's cheap, the flavor sticking to my teeth in a way that settles my lips into a slight grimace as I try to convince my hand to move my pen across the just as cheap notebook paper that has been sitting in front of me since I came home.
Come on. It's words. What the fuck is hard about this?
'It's not hard if you can actually get your head out of your ass and do something,' I think to myself. Not helping.
I have an irritating collection of drafts. Oh yes, I can start them and I can certainly plan out the works before me. But actually writing is somehow impossible, and even though I can feel how thick the block is in my mind, preventing me from communicating my feelings properly, I just can't get break myself out of it.
Come on. Finish one draft. Then everything will click together for the rest.
For the past few weeks it's been just like this. Come home, sit down with projects, and try. But no matter what I do, I just can't focus. It's as though my head simply won't allow it. And this house, quite frankly, isn't helping. It's admittedly unsettling atmosphere, the loud noises born from nothing. It's as though I can feel the weight of the dead that used to sit at the same glass table as I watching me over my shoulder, pressing their non-existent weight against me, making my chest tight with pressure I cannot voice because that's not fair to the ones still here truly haunted by their presence. I'm just a guest who overextends their stay, quite frankly.
Just a page. Just write a page and you can get up for a moment. Ignore how loud the fridge is at something clunks inside of it.
A page. Get a page. Come on, you imbecile, how hard is a fucking pa-
"I thought we talked about this."
It's a testament to my mental state how high I manage to jump in my chair, my tired and over-caffinated heart set off to make me dizzy with over exertion from fear, turning to see who has come to voice their thoughts and damn us both with them.
"Mike," I sigh. I place a hand on my chest, rubbing slightly at the spot where I feel my heart pounding against my sore ribs. "Don't do that."
"Have you slept at all?" Mike asks disapprovingly. His arms are crossed against his chest, heavy bags under his eyes from another night of restless dreams. He can't sleep, I won't sleep. If he'd allow it, we could actually get shit done this time of day.
"A little," I lie. He's just worried. About everything. He always is, which at first was something I loved about him. And usually I still do. It's an admirable trait, to care about someone and love them so much it's only natural to fret over them, to check and make sure they're taken care of properly.
Except it makes me feel guilty.
"Oh yeah? What time?" He asks, narrowing his sleep swollen eyes at me.
Details. Fuck.
"Ah, uh- I don't know, I wasn't looking at the clock," I say sheepishly, trying to flash a disarming smile and make my own bags look like ones of bare minimum rest instead of self neglect. Mike's jaw tightens slightly.
"Oh?" He says in a dull voice that is not raised, yet managed to ring throughout the room nonetheless.
I hum affirmatively, pressing my lips together and fiddling with the cheap pen in my hands, glancing down at it in an attempt at trying not to give myself away.
"Yeah, I don't know. Just like, laid my head on the book and... y'know... drifted off for a couple hours," I try to say casually.
"Ah," he says as though that were enough, leaning now against the doorframe of the hallway, looking at the other wall as though the paint were interesting. "How long after I went to bed, do you think?"
Keep your breathing even. He can smell fear. "Like, a couple," I answer with a shrug.
"Or, like, not at all," he says, turning his head back to stare down at me with a glare.
"I slept," I insist.
"Bullshit. You give me unnecessary detail about your shits post mexican take-out, but you can't tell me what time you fell asleep?" He says accusingly.
"I was asleep! I'm sorry, do you want me to lie and give some time because you need it for some reason?" I ask evenly, shrugging as though to ask what he'd like me to say, blinking at him and adding a tired tinge of a croak to my voice to match his.
"I'm sorry?" He asks, eyes still in narrow slits yet somehow widening slightly, his leg uncrossing from over the other and planting firmly on the floor as he stands straight.
He's not that tall. Kinda short. But he looks much bigger when mad. Kinda like an iguana. I told him that one time and got bit. Jokingly, of course. It's not like he'd just reach over and sna- You know what? Irrelevant.
"I'm just saying," I say, starting to turn back to my notebook as though the conversation were finished.
"No-no, I'd like to hear that again," he says. I can hear his footsteps pad against the flat, tan carpet, my shoulders stiffening slightly as I train my decreasingly neutral eyes on the wrinkled, lined paper in front of me. "I liked the part where you made me sound like some insecure teenager for calling you out on your shit. Very original."
My lips press into a thin line, my grip on my pen tightening slightly.
"It's not that serious, Mikey-"
"Don't bullshit me, and don't use some cheap nickname as a cop out via sympathy," Mike snaps, standing now on the opposite side of the table, pressing his hands now against the glass surface that dirties so easily. Trust me, we've had to clean some prints off of it.
There's a line, and at some point I'm going to cross it. The problem is it's hidden under mental sand that makes me unclear of exactly where it is.
"Michael-"
"That's formal," he says, leaning forward on the table, his tone the same as an interrogating mother just waiting for the moment where no one will blame her for finally tearing you to shreds for what you've said to her outwardly innocent statements. A trap.
"I'm sorry, I thought you didn't like cheap nicknames?" I say, fighting the irritation in my voice, barely managing to remain even as I click my pen to begin writing.
"What's wrong with just Mike?" He asks. He reaches across the table, placing all five of his fingertips on my paper firmly and dragging it back across the table towards him, withholding it from me.
"Would you like me to use just Mike?" I ask.
"I'd like you to make eye contact while you lie through your fucken teeth," he says calmly, not moving as he continues to stare me down.
"Okay, Mike. And what exactly does my sleep schedule mean to you?" I ask slowly, trailing my eyes from his hand, slowly up his arm with pronounced veins and muscles, to the white cotton shirt that was two sizes too large and usually what he wore to sleep in, until I meet his dark and slightly hateful eyes.
"We had a conversation," he starts.
"A conversation," I repeat.
"About a month ago, do you remember?" He asks, cocking his head slightly in that way it does when we both know I'm not going to dare to answer with anything other than he wants.
"You ha-"
"I had a concern," he interrupts me, now looking down at the notebook and studying it as though it were a piece of fine art. "Which involved how absolutely awful your ability is to take care of yourself properly."
"Mike-"
"Shut. Up." Mike says with disturbing calmness. "I'm talking."
Fine.
"It's fucking rude."
Not saying it's not.
"Like your attitude when I try to just help you because clearly, you can't help yourself," he says, now slapping down the notebook to gesture at me as though it were obvious why he was concerned.
I could speak. I'd like to. And he gives me a long enough silence I could. But instead I decide I will simply give him the floor.
"No opinion on this?" He asks shortly.
"No," I say with a dismissive shrug. "You seem to have them for me."
Mike laughs at this statement, and if the sparkle in his eyes didn't seem to have the same dull shine as the glass table between us I'd feel a bit better about it. But I think there's a six foot hole in the backyard I just signed a lease on that makes his disturbingly convincing smile much more worrisome.
"You're funny," he says affectationately. "Get up."
"What?" I ask, blinking.
"Are you deaf now? Up," he says in irritation, beginning to cross back around the table. "This isn't a negotiation."
Before I can speak his hands dig in under my armpits, roughly pulling me to stand and bringing me close to his chest. I should have energy to fight back, I've only been sitting after all. But a physical confrontation would be too loud, first of all. Abby is asleep in her room, and I don't want to make a scene to wake the poor child. Number two, my bones are sore, my head is aching and I generally just do not feel well enough to protest. Physically.
"Put me down, you son of a bitch!"
Verbally, I'm fine.
"You're going to bed, that's final!"
"I have twelve drafts due that I have to get done or else this project-"
"You have four hours of sleep you can get before you have to take your candy ass to work in the fucken morning, or else I'm gonna beat it into you," he hisses directly in my ear, his breath cold and loud so close to me. Jesus, fuck. What did his parents feed him as a child? It shouldn't be this easy for him.
"Oh, I don't do what you want and now you threaten physical violence. Very mature," I mock, reaching out to grip the doorframe of Mike's bedroom, purely to piss him off.
"Save me the dramatics," he snaps in a whisper, wrapping one arm tighter around my waist and using the other to bat my hands away from the frame. I can tell he's genuinely trying not to hurt me, his grip on one wrist firm but careful.
"Just let me write one page," I try.
"That's what you said last night," he says, still trying to pull my hand away. My nails have dug into the frame, making it slightly harder. I can sense his irritation growing. "You got two hours of sleep."
"That's not going to kill me," I argue.
"You haven't slept for more than two hours in a week," he says.
One nail breaks against the frame, making me lose my grip and sending pain down my arm from the awkward angle at which the pressure had snapped it off. I wince slightly, which gives Mike slight pause as he checks my hand, but decides I'm alright before he begins dragging me towards the bed in earnest.
"Why is it so hard for you to just take care of yourself?" Mike asks in frustration.
"I take care of myself!" I say defensively. Mike drops me onto the bed, standing in front of me to prevent any new attempts at escape.
"No, you don't," he says, quiet but firm. "You sit and stare at your notebook and you don't do anything else if you can help it. You sleep for two hours, you go to work, you hardly eat, you don't have energy anymore." Mike's hands are planted firmly on his hips, his nostrils flailing as he tries to take collected, calm breaths. "I care about you. Why can't you?"
"Michael-"
"Stop!" Mike snaps, groaning and turning away from me with a sharp spin on his heel. He buries his hands in his hair in frustration, now pacing between the bed and the door, quietly shutting it so we can argue in peace.
"Why are you so upset?" I ask, genuinely confused.
"Because I don't want to see you live like this. I am concerned and every time I bring it up you dismiss me, you joke, you don't care and I hate that," Mike says, temporarily stopped in his tracks to point at me as he seethes. "I'm watching you waste away and you know what? I'm starting to think part of you likes it."
"Excuse me?" I say, astounded. I cross my arms in front of my chest, cocking my head at him in a way to say 'I dare you to repeat that.'
"You heard me," Mike says, taking a step towards me. "It's like you cannot for one iota of a second conceive of some world where taking care of yourself is a good use of your time. You work, and work until you've burned yourself out so horribly you rot in bed for a month. And unless you're staying here, I hear nothing from you. Not a call, not a fuck you or whatever. It's like you're punishing yourself."
"Now who's being dramatic?" I say.
"See? I can't even point this out without you getting defensive, which just shows you know you're in the wrong!" Mike turns away from me once more, resuming his path of restless walking.
"Why do you even care?" I ask genuinely. This makes him pause again, his glare once more returning to me as he mentally questions my intelligence.
"You know what, I don't know!" Mike snaps, his voice gaining volume. "You are insistent in this fucking- slow method suicide and I'm trying to help you, but you won't let me!"
"I never asked you to care," I scoff, rolling my eyes.
"I never asked to care!" Mike nearly shouts, leaning in close to my face and sneering at me.
This breaks the tension.
His face falls as soon as the words are out of his mouth, his eyes widening slightly like my own eyes. This comment shouldn't really sting. I shouldn't let it. But it does. And for a moment, I do. And he sees that clearly.
"... oh," I say softly, my arms relaxing and shoulders sagging ever so slightly as I drop his gaze, trying to shut off my emotions before they're obvious.
"I'm sorry," Mike says quickly, stumbling to his knees in front of me. "I didn't mean that-"
"It's fine," I say, trying to remain as blank as my pages on the kitchen table.
"I just said it to be hurtful," Mike says quickly, his hand reaching up to cup my face. I take it away, turning my head to the side slightly. There's a new chill in the air, one I can feel seizing my chest.
"You weren't," I say. "I'm going to sleep."
"Please, I don't want-"
"I'm going to sleep," I say forcefully, shoving him away and turning to begin undressing from my work clothes that I still wore. Mike is silent behind me, probably thinking, and I'm close to not being able to hold myself together anymore.
"Get out!" I snap, flinging my shirt at him in a rage and beginning to stand from the bed to chase him out. He doesn't need anymore prompt, quickly scurrying out from the room to wherever it is he'll sleep now. Probably on the couch even though there's another room down the hall. A self induced punishment. Knowing him he probably won't even allow himself a blanket or pillow, feeling the cold air fitting for his selfishness.
Good.
-
When I wake that morning, I can smell breakfast in the air. My stomach hurts from skipping meals, but I don't want to eat. First of all, I haven't worked for a meal. There's still plenty to be done with my drafts. And food is a good encouragement to keep working. Second, I didn't ask him to care. And he didn't ask for it either. There probably isn't enough for me, and if there is, he and Abby can debate between the two who will have it. I need to shower.
I take forever washing myself. If that's what you want to call it. It was moreso standing under hot water, letting it run cold until I couldn't stand it anymore and hoping my deodorant is able to do some heavy lifting today. I barely have enough time to get to work, passing silently by Mike and not turning when he calls my name, walking out the door as fast as I can without running.
He follows me outside, something shaking in a bag behind me. When I finally open my car door I'm forced to have my gaze in his direction, his body between the door frame and my car door, presenting me with a bag of lunch.
"Please eat," he begs, placing the bag in my lap unceremoniously and then quickly stepping away and shutting the door himself.
There's a small moment where he and I just share at each other through the glass, time slipping away without notice. He hasn't slept, he'll be late for work if he doesn't get dressed soon, and the bag on top of my thighs is warm. Fresh. A petty part of me wants to roll down my window and throw away the meal, back out of the drive way and let that fester in his mind out of hate. He thinks words can hurt? Actions are so much worse.
But there's something in his eyes. Defeated, resigned. Childlike is almost the word I could use. In front of my car is the 12 year old boy who tried to chase down his brother, the 18 year old who decided to sacrifice his life raising his little sister while saying goodbye to his parents, and the 27 year old man who's just trying to keep everything together.
I don't know what to say to this child. Or to the man.
So, with the turn of my key in the ignition, I don't.
-
It's late when I come home. When the manager had asked me to stay late I almost called Mike to break the silence and tell him this. But there was still a part of me that didn't care whether or not he knew. Really, I didn't have to return home tonight. I could go back to my apartment and just let him rot in bed the way he claims I do. How could he say such a thing, anyways? I rot in bed? What about the days I've walked into the house and he hasn't slept all week, where he's claiming he's trying to kick his medication and he'll get the hang of it soon. Where his sister is eating every meal almost burnt because he can't think straight enough to remember time. Where I've had to coax, beg, demand of him that he just takes a pill because he's laying on the side of the bed, small and curled in on himself, dead eyed and obviously tired but still not sleeping. One time I slipped it into his food. And I felt awful. Do not think for a moment I wanted to do that. There was a betrayel in his eyes when sleep began to overtake him. I hoped he wouldn't notice, but he must've. Some tell in the drugs effect that made him aware his rest was not voluntary. But I didn't care. I stroked his hair through the night, and I'll do it again. He could hate me however long he needed to, he just needed sleep first.
The irony still hasn't struck me when I walk through the door of his house, well past dinner, Abby in the bath. The door was left unlocked, which is unusual for this time of night. Mike jumps from the couch the minute I open the door, standing with his hands by his side anxiously pulling at the edge of his oversized sweater.
Everything's oversized with him. The thought occurs to me that his father was slightly bigger.
"Don't leave me," he says quietly, his voice small and pathetic like him. But I don't say that with hate.
"I just got home," I say. "Be a bit odd to leave again."
I try a smile, but it's artificial and we both know it's only for his comfort. It doesn't touch him, his eyes glassy and lips slightly parted the same way a child's is when they're trying to breathe as their sinuses spring to life in wake of forming tears.
"I didn't mean it," he says, still standing in the same place. If I was a better person I'd probably run to him. But I'm not.
If I were a better person, I'd say I believe him. But I don't. And suddenly my throat is swollen with hurt, my own bottom lip is sticking out and now we're both trying not to cry because this is so overly taxing. We're adults but emotions are hard. Vulnerability is hard. It is a damnation that we both detest, both avoid. In better states we would joke about this, would laugh and tease the other for not having the emotional capability to voice our thoughts. But we're not. So we don't. And now we're crying openly in the off-putting, attempted to look cozy living room that we can never fully relax in.
"I don't wanna lose you," he says between small hiccups, hands now balled into fists that he buries under opposite armpits, shifting his weight so that he doesn't look so small. His glances bounce between me and the hallway table, never fixing on either of us as he tries to state his mind like an adult. "I've barely had you."
In my heart there has been a constant ache, hurt flowing and pumping through my veins like the blood that ran cold last night at his hurtful words. His apologetic words make the ache somehow worse.
"I don't mean to be a burden to you," I say softly, feeling a small, stray tear break the fluid barrier of my waterline to race down my cheek, allowing a pathway to the fatter drops that threaten to quickly follow.
Mike's face shifts, stepping towards me and holding out his arms.
"No, never," he says just as soft, trying to comfort me. I freeze as he approaches, my body stiffening as I try to swallow the lump and convince myself that I can survive his touch. His touch that I normally crave the moment I'm around him, that I seek in the dark of night even when the bed is overheating, that I'd go insane without.
"I've never asked you to care," I say, voice breaking and tears rolling freely now.
"I know," he says into my neck, which is wetting as he shakes around me, his grasp firm and careless of whether or not it's too much.
"I don't mean to cause problems. I just...." I don't know what I mean, how I wish to finish the statement. If I was clever, I could. If I was clever, I wouldn't even be in this problem to begin with.
"I'm just scared," he chokes out, his breathing horrible as he struggles to keep his crying from being obvious. "You look sick all the time and I don't want that."
He's told me the story. His mother wasting away, thinning and slipping, starving and dying. How he'd returned home to a baby wailing in her crib as their mothers body lay in a pool of blood he never really got out of the carpet. He lied to me initially when I saw it the first time, said it was wine. It wasn't until we had a few glasses ourselves that his eyes glazed over and he told me. It was disturbing how neutral he kept himself to the subject. A habit he'd developed much too long ago to break.
"Mike-"
"I try, and I try and if something doesn't give soon I'm gonna fucking lose it," he sobs into my skin, arms tightening around me.
"If what doesn't give?" I ask softly, trying to pull him away to look into his eyes. But he doesn't budge, sobbing a little bit harder and gripping a little bit tighter. He doesn't respond, simply shaking as he breathes heavily against me through his mouth.
"Hey," I say softly, trying to wrap my arms around him, failing and giving up as I realize his grip is too tight. "I'm not going anywhere."
His mouth closes a little, quieting his breathing slightly as he sniffles.
"I'm an idiot, but I'm not suicidal," I say softly, trying again for a joke. He doesn't laugh, but he does pull away slightly to look at my face, lips swollen and quivering as he blinks at me.
"You scare me," he says quietly, not quite meeting my eyes. He's watching my lips, but I think that's because that's the closest he can get to making eye contact.
"I scare you?" I ask, furrowing my brows. I lick my dry, cracked lips for comfort. "Why?"
"Because I love you," he says shakily, sighing as though it were exhausting to admit while still holding that nervous flicker in his eyes. "Because when I think about not being with you the house seems colder. And I can't go back to hating this house."
I open my mouth to respond, but there's more.
"Because I love your stupid smile when you're excited, or how you do that cricket leg thing when you're falling asleep. Or how if you want my attention you'll bury your head in my chest and pretend you're doing it in your sleep even though I won't judge you for doing it while you're awake."
"I don't-"
"I love how defensive you get over things like that," he says, bringing one hand to cup my cheek, resting his thumb that smells like the creamy lavender handsoap next to the bathroom sink on my lips. "I love how you look waking up next to me, how you play with Abby. And for a really long time I didn't see myself ever having kids, but when I see you curling her hair at the kitchen table I think maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I just took up another job and saved money so that we could-"
"Mike-"
"Stop cutting me off," he says gently, his eyes finally meeting mine with just the smallest smile. "It's rude."
At that I do stop, my body finally relaxing into his grasp as I lean into him and his touch.
"I want things I haven't wanted since before Garret went missing," he says, stroking my lip. "And I want them with you."
Dinner was just as delicious as lunch, even if it was late. And the bed is soft like our voices as we make plans for years down the line. And after a week long break, the pages are finally filled once again.
Just like us.
¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤
Literally had a come to Jesus moment while writing this that not only do I fear being vulnerable irl, but in writing too. Nearly threw up while writing this. Book aable feet.
Taglist:
@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3
•▪︎Masterlist▪︎•
#josh hutcherson fanfic#josh hutcherson#jhutch#mike schmidt#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt fnaf#mike schmidt smut#josh hutcherson fluff#josh hutcherson imagine#josh hutcherson smut#jhutch1992#fnaf mike schmidt#fnaf mike#mike schmidt fluff#mike schmidt imagine#mike schmidt x reader smut#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt x y/n#fnaf fanfic#josh hutcherson fnaf#mike fnaf#fnaf#fnaf movie#fnaf fanfiction#fnaf movie fanfic#michael schmidt#michael schmidt x reader#michael schmidt x you#gender neutral reader#gender neutral y/n
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Part 1 Part 2.5 character info
He let out a soft series of chuckles. Staring at you with a pitiful look, showing an expression of fake sympathy.
"I don't love you, and I never will. Not even if you beg and try. "
Love Me, Love Me Not (2)
Yandere Best Friend x Obstacle Reader
*unedited
Tags: small description of Nsfw- they don't fuck, self loathing, hostage keeping, one sided attraction, betrayal, mentions of previous friendships the yandere broke, slight angst, yandere is attracted to someone else, escape planning, mentions of a previous murder victim, reader is complicit to the murders, guilt, past memories.
Disclaimer: This is just a scenario I thought of with an Oc! So nothing is really 'official' or canon-
_____________________________
You look at the door, contemplating your next move. It's right there, just staring at you. The latch was loose, Marco didn't consficate the butter knife like he did usually whenever the two of you ate, and he was no where to be seen. It was so fucking conveinent, so perfect. Too perfect...Maybe you were just paranoid. The latch. The door. Just do it. Run. Sprint. Why were you panicking? This was all on you now. Your legs were shaking as you wobbled your way towards the door, grabbing the butterknife that you were previously cutting the lamb chops with. Trembling, you tried to bust open the secuirty latch. But ultimately you ended up throwing the butterknife into the sink.
Falling onto the couch, grabbing a soft pillow as a soother, you let out a frustrated scream. It's better to be safe than sorry. If anything, Marco could be hiding behind the door waiting for you. For all you know, Marco could be waiting outside the apartment complex exits, standing by while he prepares to tackle you when you finally rush outside. He could be testing you. Why wouldn’t he? It was just predictable. You knew better than to assume that Marco would freely let you loose.
So you waited, and waited. The more time passed, the more you started second guessing your choice. Wow, maybe he was just clumsy. For what seemed like forever, Marco finally rushed into the room, slamming the door open before closing it shut.
"Did I scare ya?"
He smugly spoke, swaying his way towards you while he dragged two suitcases. Stiff from the frozen fear that had shot you in the chest, you only stared at Marco wide eyed.
"I'll take that as a yes..? Anyways stay put, I just need to do this real quick.."
Peeking into the contents of the suitcases, you heard Marco examine and fix the locks. Noticing that one of the latches were left loose, Marco turned back to look at you- surpirsed yet expecting this from you. You stayed, you're still here.
Huh...
While Marco was preoccupied with himself, you reached out into one of the luggages. It was your stuff! Holding out an old shirt of yours, you let out an accidental gasp.
"Oh yeah, I figured that you might want a few things of yours. I mean I can't have my roomie empty handed~"
Underwear, socks, shirts- everything! He even brought a few extra things like your plushies and accessories! Smiling, you thanked him while you zipped up the zipper of the suitcase.
"No problem dude! Anyways you can go do whatever, fool around in your room or something. I dunno?"
Can you leave?
"Hahaha! HA! You're hilarious!"
Scoffing, you nudged Marco's shoulder, making your way to your 'bedroom'. Closing the door behind you, you took out all of your belongings from the two suitcases. Searching through the pile of stuff you had, you managed to find your phone! Immediately powering it on, you tried calling the authorities. Even trying to turn on your mobile data so that you could contact somebody through your socials. Though expectantly, your phone had blocked all of those options. No service, no nothing. Scrolling through the photo gallery, you looked at the photos you took, all the stupid screenshots you saved. You and him, it's always been the two of you. Of course, sometimes it would be you, him, and.. Matheias and Angela.. You just stare at their faces, feeling nothing as you observe their smiles. You were all so happy back then..
"
Matheias screamed as he lunged himself towards Marco, crying as his sobs echoed the room. Quickly, you grabbed Matheias by the arm, struggling to keep him still as he dragged you along with him. You shouted at Matheias, scolding him while also begging him to calm down as he continued to howl at Marco. Trying your best to keep Matheias away from Marco, you were forced onto the floor as Matheias shoved you away from him. Showing concern, Marco rushed towards you, trying to help you back on your feet.
"YOU MOTHERFUCKER- HOW COULD YOU?!"
He screeched, throwing chairs, his face red with anger. Helping you up, Marco cautiously approached Matheias- holding his two palms up as he slowly approached. Calmly, Marco tried to speak to Matheias.
"Come on..Please let's not do this. Not now - just not now, okay? Please, let's just talk this out-"
Panicked, Matheias threw something at Marco, trying to keep more distance.
"LIAR! You fucking CUNT!"
Persistent, Marco was beginning to lose his composure. His voice was now on the verge of shaky tears as he lowered himself to Matheias's height level.
"P-Please..We just- it's her- fucking hell.. Come on Matheias! Really man?"
The more Marco spoke with sincerity, the more Matheias reacted. The more Marco tried to reach out to Matheias, his grieving work buddy.. His best friend..The more terrified you saw Matheias get.
"Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. You're sick- Stop that. Those aren't real.."
Trying to descalate the situation, you spoke firmly towards Matheias. Enough is enough. You've had it with the accusations about Marco, the delusions and rumors Matheias had accumulated about him. It was tiring seeing Matheias grow bitter against the only person trying to hold everyone together. You were annoyed with how he was reacting. Everyone was mourning, nobody was themselves. You understand that, you can sympthazie with him. You're also hurting. You miss her too. It was just the three of you now. So why, out of all people, he could've chosen to take his anger out, did it have to be Marco? Hysterically, Matheias let out a series of laughs. Rolling his eyes as he pointed a finger at you.
"Oh yeah! Of course you believe him! I think I know why. Trying to get some brownie points aren't you?"
He marched towards you, keeping his finger pointed at you. His voice so loud and angry, it began to ring your ears.
"It's always been like that! Don't you find it fucking unfair how he's always the innocent little sheep in every sitaution?!"
He let out an exasperated breath, his hands aggressively flying everywhere.
"But NOOOOOO! EVERYONE LOVESSS MARCO! The fucking psychopath. Fucking murderer. And I'm the only one that fucking knows!"
Stop it, you beg. You're being delusional, you cried. You held back your tongue, knowing that Matheias wasn't being himself. He always had an issue with his temper, so you knew you had to be patient with him. But you've done that so many times throughout the friendship. It's beginning to run thin. Espically now.
"Why don't you just say it huh? Why don't you just admit it? Tell him. Just fucking-"
Out of instinct, you rushed towards Matheias. Raising your hand as the palm of it harshly came into contact with his face. Tears streaming down your cheeks, you slap him again..And again..And again..Stopping when Marco had to pull you away from him. Holding you in a hug as the hiccups and sniffles begin to escape you.
It was quiet for a while. Your sniffles and his loud, hyperventilating breathes were the only thing left in the room. You remember the look in his eyes, the grief he felt when he saw Marco shake his head dissapointingly. As tension filled the room, suffocating the three of you in an uncomfortable moment- unsure of what was to happen next. Matheias finally spoke up, defeated as he slammed his hand against the table. Memorial cards, photographs, and sympathy letters falling onto the ground.
"..You know what? Fine. Suit yourself. But she's gone, and I know who fucking did it. Sooner or later, you'll know I'm right. And when you do, you'll be wishing that you listened to me."
Without a word, Matheias grabbed a memorial card. Shoving chairs out of his way while he walked out the door. With a final glance, he looked at Marco, and then at you. Scowling, he shut the door violently, leaving you and Marco alone.
"
Your eyes burned as you stared at the ground. Your body feeling limp as you pressed your back against the bedframe for support. Matheias was always the smart fucker of the group..You wonder how he'd react if he knew what was going on. Probably with a snarky remark of how "I told you so!". Funny how the end of their close bond was the start of yours. You want to cry, to get rid of this awful feel that brewed inside of you. But you can't. Maybe it was your body's way of punishing you for being such an awful human being.
Yeah sit with your guilt. Let it simmer with no outlet to release it.
Looking at the screen, you decided to check out your notes. Scrolling through them, you recalled how you always used it as a personal diary rather than a proper agenda tool. Just a pile of insecurities about your crush on a friend who clearly had the hots for someone else. A bunch of useless shit that you bitched about. A series of notes that revealed what type of selfish person you truly were.
Last opened a week ago...?
What?
Your heart sank as you looked at the bottom of each note.
Each note, every single one of them, he read them all. All the words you said to yourself, all the thoughts that you had- he knew about it. You went rigid the more you thought about it. Before..Was he playing with your feelings? He knowingly roped you into this shitfest because he knew he had you wrapped around his little finger. You were the perfect loyal pawn that helped him clean the messes.
Hahaha. Haha. Ha.
That's hilarious, isn't it? You stand up, furious of how stupidly feeble you felt. You pick up the clothes and your belongings and organize them in their rightful place. The couch, when he touched you like that..It was just to keep you on your toes, to keep you obedient. Your 'reward' for being so good.. Pissed, you started to pace around your room. That's it, you want out. You should've left the room when you had the chance. You lay there on the floor, mind numb as you stare into nothingness. That poor girlfriend, whoever they are, hoped they were okay. Why did Marco like them again? How did they even meet? Do you even remember what she looks like? You should know, he's talked about her so many times you've lost count. Charlie? Ashlyn? Abby? No.. none of those sounded right. Does it matter in the end? You should be worrying about yourself.
What if you tied your clothes and made a makeshift rope? Looking down through the window, you grimaced as you thought about it. It's too high. You're on the highest floor of the building. You laughed at another desperate thought that came up. What if you fought Marco yourself? Sure, yeah, if you wanted to get suplexed to death. Right, fight the 6'2 "maniac who goes to the gym every week and could easily pick you up like a ragdoll. There has to be someway.. Who knows how long he really plans on keeping you. It was so easy for him to drop Matheias, someone he knew longer than you - and swiftly wiped Angela off the face of the earth. You're next. Time was ticking. You sat there for a while. Thinking to yourself. Did Marco really care about anything other than himself? Is he capable of emotion? He has some capability, or maybe he plays the illusion that he does fairly well.
Without another thought, you got up, walking towards his room. Knocking the door, you called his name. No answer. You knock again. No answer. You try opening the door to check if he's inside. It's locked. Going to the front door, you began to play with the locks. Loudly banging them against the doorframe, the metalic sounds echoing the entire room. Still no response. Using this opportunity, you scan the entire apartment, looking for anything you could use or take note of. But you couldn’t think of anything. Deciding to go back to your room, you try to get some shut eye. Changing into some nightwear to get comfortable.
Eventually, you were able to find yourself melting into the matress. Dreaming about what could've been, you were sound asleep. You wished you could've stayed like that forever. Blissful and full of rest. However, it was short-lived as you felt yourself being lifted up. Groggily, you were brought up onto your knees. Slowly, you were propped up at a certain position while a warm breath fanned against the back of your neck. Your back was pressed against his chest, legs spread apart, and hands on both sides of your thighs. Fully awake and aware, you froze as you felt his hands play with your chest - barely grazing at your nipples. Alert, you tried to turn your body away from his wandering hands. Out of protest against your reaction, Marco hushed you as he pushed you back to the position.
"Ah ah ah. Nono. Stay put for me okay? Trust me"
It felt so foreign with the way he spoke to you with such geniune softness. You couldn't help but lean further against his body as he began to travel his hands further down your lower half.
"You've been so good, such a good friend to me..I've never really thanked you properly, so I'll do it now..Yeah?"
His hands now grabbing onto the waistband of your pajama pants, you went paralyzed. Why was he doing this?
"You deserve it. That's why.. Do you not like this?"
What about her? Doesn't he hate you for standing in the way?
"Just answer my question. Do you like this or not?"
You were starting to get on his nerves. So quietly, you meekly squeaked for him to continue. Even though you knew you should've denied his offer and advances, you still couldn't help but fall into him. So, lifting your hips up, you allowed him to pull your pants down.
"I just want to make it up to you, that's all..You'd enjoy something like this afterall.."
Rubbing all the right places, going at that perfect rhythmic pace, focusing on your body movements. He made sure to treat you carefully, leaving gentle kisses along your neck as he watched your chest rise up and down. Back and fourth, he left your mind in a daze as he whispered those sweet praises into your ears.
"Finally got what you wanted, huh? How long have you been thinking of this for? Hah.. And don't lie to me, I know everything.."
You didn't answer him as you focused on chasing your release. Your hands pathetically gripping onto his arms while you whined as his hands continued to play and stroke at your sex.
"It's only fair. I realised if you hadn't helped me, I would've been so lost..So good job. You did so well for me. You earned this"
Twisting and brewing, you felt the heat inside you threaten to spill as he changed his pace. His hands now trying to chass the pleasure out of you while you quivered underneath him. You were close, so close to tipping over the edge.
"I love you"
With those words that you so desperately fantasized about for years, you felt the heat in your body spread. Milking out your orgasm, Marco continued at the same rhythm, pulling his hand away after he felt you try to shove him off. Getting off the bed as he left you there to calm down, he wiped his hands dry. Smirking at you as if he had just pulled the world's most amazing prank.
"I did good didn't I?"
....What the fuck was that? Why in the hell did you say yes? Why the fuck did he- Looking at him in confusion, you pulled up your pants. Giving him a look that demanded an answer.
"Okayy fine. I just felt like it. Plus it's fun seeing you melt like puddy!"
Huh? You felt dumbfounded as he kept walking around the dark room. The moonlight providing the only source of light to the bedroom.
"It's funny..You like me. I've known that for a while..Even before the notes. You were never really a good liar."
He let out a soft series of chuckles. Staring at you with a pitiful look, showing an expression of fake sympathy.
"I don't love you, and I never will. Not even if you beg and try. "
He leaned close to your face, his hands caressing your cheek.
"I only said it to get your rocks off. And clearly..It worked~"
Well fucking ouch..A pang went through your chest as Marco moved away from you. Disregarding your feelings he kept going, the softness and genuie warmth you felt earlier, disintegrated into nothingness. Like a flip switched inside him, he was back to his comedic cold personality.
"Ohh hun..Please don't be dissapointed. I wasn't lying when I said you deserved every second of that moment.."
Circling the room, he continued to monolog casually.
"Afterall for being such an obedient dog staying put in the room..You deserved a little treat!"
Patting your head to further squeeze out the feelings in your heart, Marco left the room.
"I'll see you tommorow okay? Dream about me~"
Alone by yourself again as you laid your body on the bed. You curled yourself into a ball, grabbing all the blankets, hugging them for some comfort. His words replayed in your head, trying to process what just happened. He was fucking with you. But why? Why like that? Staring up at the ceiling with your back on the bed, you muttered a few words while you felt the shame creep up on you.
What an asshole.
_____________________________
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.
.
Part 3 coming soon!
You looked at her in horror as she sat there on the chair, tied up and gagged. Her face was stained with fresh tears as she struggled against her restraints. Oh god, did things not go well with her and Marco? Why was she here? You tried calming her down as she thrashed around, threatening to tip over the chair.
.
.
.
.
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#MY GOD ITS FINALLY DONE#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere prompt#yandere headcanons#yandere ceo#yandere oc#sangwook#yandere ocs#Marco Sangwook#Marco#yandere best friend#male yandere oc#yandere male#male yandere x reader#yandere smut#yandere oneshot#yandere things#male yandere#yandere x gender neutral reader#yandere x you#Holy crap my hands hurt from writing lol#okay! I officially posted the part 2!#whoot whoot!!#Matheias takes an L#and this doesn't count the L he has already#with the way his name is spelled weirdly lmaoo#Kissing your homies gnite lmao#yandere oc x reader#poly yandere
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No Pain, No Gain | Part 1 | PersonalTrainer!Aemond x fem!reader
Summary: The personal trainer your roommate Baela recommended to you is rude, condescending but also hot as hell. Series Masterlist.
A/N: shoutout to my personal trainer Alex for rotting my brain. This is my first modern!Aemond fic, so any feedback is genuinely appreciated, I hope you enjoy this, it was an absolute ball to write (and there will be more!)
Also I could not post this without tagging some absolute modern!Aemond QUEENS who inspired me to write this. @valeskafics @oneeyedvisenya @sapphire-writes you’re the real ones! Also massive hug to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for hyping me up and being a parent to this child she didn't choose to create.
warnings: EVENTUAL SMUT, 18+, sexual tension, binge eating, mentions of breakup, cursing, dickhead Aemond, reader is horny af, English slang (soz), warnings will be added when needed
To say you were broken-hearted would be a bit of an understatement.
You were angry, annoyed, frustrated, wound up tight and pissed off to the highest degree.
And it showed in how you acted these days as you polished off the salty family-size bag of crisps on your own in 10 minutes flat.
You look over at your phone and sigh when you see it’s already 6 o’clock in the afternoon. Another day sat on the sofa, wallowing in self-pity, eating yourself into oblivion and fairly soon pouring a glass of Baela’s finest white wine (now that it was officially almost evening anyway and it was justified).
Scrolling through instagram was like twisting the dagger that was already in your chest. All that stupid fucking app could show you was ‘ex in the bar with his new girlfriend’, ‘ex in the drive-thru with his new girlfriend’, ‘ex on the beach with his new girlfriend’.
It made you want to throw your phone directly at the wall. But you settled for squeezing the life out of it, imagining it was your ex’s stupid face instead.
The absolute waste of space had broken up with you over text on the night you were supposed to go out on a date. And as if that was not bad enough, not even two weeks had gone by before he’d managed to stick his dick into someone else with a pulse. At the time, you were so angry that you didn’t accuse him of anything, he’d already broken up with you. But you did suspect that this ‘sudden’ relationship he’d gotten into wasn’t as recent as first thought.
It’s been a month since you found out about the other woman.
And clearly you were coping really well.
Indulging wasn’t something you usually did, but now you feel you deserved it.
“Hello~” the soft, ringing voice of your roommate Baela was at the door. You half-considered hiding all the packets of various foods you’d managed to stuff down your gob, but Baela had seen worse of you. She’d seen you while you were throwing your guts up after freshers week at university. Nothing was worse than that and you shuddered at the memory.
She walks in, looking more put together than you by a long way, having been hanging out with her sister all day. That’s what you like about Baela, she’s not judgemental, and so when she sees you’ve barely moved an inch she just flashes her usual smile.
“Good day then?” she says with a smirk. You raise your eyebrows in return.
“Apart from seeing him plastered all over instagram I’m great”
“Got any left?” she asks, extending a greedy hand for a crisp. You offer her the bag with a sigh as she slumps on the sofa next to you. She watches boredly whatever you have on the TV,
"Why don't you just block him?" She asks. And to be fair, she has a point.
But you huff and shove another crisp in your mouth, whining, "Cos I'm a nosy bitch with no boundaries"
Baela sighs, pulling out her own phone and scrolling through her notifications, "As much as I love you y/n, this is pathetic, even for you"
You'd be offended if she wasn't completely right. And you know she's only half joking so you just shrug.
"How was Rhaena?" You ask.
"Yeah fine, usual shit with Dad. Oh I didn't tell you-" she starts.
She has that glint in her eye which spells trouble. She's got gossip and you raise your eyebrows in anticipation.
"Hold that thought, wine first?"
"Obviously"
After giggling and waltzing over to the counter to pour two glasses of the finest box wine you could get for under seven English pounds, you hand her one and wait almost too excitedly for her to spill whatever sweet gossip she has.
She sips it, almost like she needs the liquid courage to begin, and she hisses at the sweet, acidic taste.
"God that's foul"
"It was 2 for 1!" You retort with a laugh, but she is right, it does taste foul, "Stop stalling, tell me tell me tell me"
She looks at you as if to say bitch, you are not fucking ready.
“Dad’s married Rhaenyra”
The force of which your jaw drops open is almost comical. You’d guessed for a while that they were at least fucking, but to just elope?!
“I need money, cos I betted on this shit happening!”
“Oh my gosh, Rhaena was fucking hysterical. Jace and Luke aren’t surprised at all, but Alicent is beside herself in the family group chat, it should honestly be a reality TV show” Baela says scrolling through said group chat. From what you can see without being too nosy, is that there’s a lot of long paragraphs and angry emojis.
“What about Viserys, surely he’s…” you ask, trailing off to sip the pissy wine in your hands.
“Oh no, he’s thrilled. Which pisses Alicent off even more if that’s possible”
“Baela I think your Uncle’s gone insane” you bite your lip to stifle a laugh.
“No fucking kidding”
You slump back onto the sofa, “Holy shit, I am a genius. I knew the whole time” you say, smirking in victory.
“And so humble too” Baela gives a sarcastic grin which you return.
“How do you feel about it?”
Baela shucks her phone onto the coffee table, sighing, “Not bothered, we’re all adults now, so it hardly makes a difference to me. Suppose it’ll get Dad to stop bringing back random women now” she says exasperated, “but Rhaenyra gets the impression we’re all really bothered so she’s invited us all to a retreat for a week. Think she just wants to butter us up for marrying our Dad”
“Oh? Anywhere nice?”
Baela looks over, giving you a wearied look.
“What?”
“Well that brings me to you”
“Oh god, what” you ask, dropping the tone to emphasise the seriousness of the talk all of a sudden.
Baela fiddles with the remote, in an attempt to appear cute, “Well~ There’s a spare ticket going and you’re my bestest friend. And I would hate to endure a week of watching my Dad eat Rhaenyra’s face off, so come with me please?” she begs.
You sigh, “Baela usually I would love to sponge off you like that but-”
“Pleasepleaseplease~” she begs, “Rhaena’s bringing her boyfriend and we’re basically together!”
You fake a gagging sound.
“Oh come on, a week on a beach in bikinis,sweltering weather with as many cocktails as you can hold isn’t exactly torture”
You give her an incredulous look, opening your arms to emphasise all the bags of junk food around you, “Do I look beach body ready to you?!”
“Oh fuck off, you’re hot and have an ass that can keep the world fed”
“I know I am hot, I just don’t feel hot” you stare blankly at the TV, trying to ignore her and stuff another crisp into your mouth.
Baela sighs, “I was just thinking it would be a nice distraction, that’s all”
“I want to it’s just…” you start, trying to think of the right words, “...I don’t feel my best”
Baela gives you a playful slap on your arm, “Look, forget your ex, he’s dumb as fuck and it’s not solving anything by staying inside with the curtains drawn all day. If you want to feel better, might be worth taking care of yourself a bit, hm?”
Fuck her, you think, rolling your eyes, she’s right.
You hate how often she’s right. Because she gets that look on her face when she is. Always has done.
“How about that gym membership you’ve not used since February?” she asks,
“Okay firstly, ouch. Secondly, I realised I don’t know the first thing about how to work out in a gym, besides the guys there were…weird”
You shudder at the thought. It was January and so all the new year’s resolution guys were at it in full swing, using the gym as a means to try and pick up girls. And since graduating you find that more often than not the guys who hit on you were students. Maybe it was different now?
Baela pokes her cheek with her tongue, racking her brain.
“One of my cousins is a personal trainer? I could text him to see if he’s happy to take you on. Mates rates” she smiles.
You side-eye her hard. You’ve heard briefly about her cousins. Some of the stories are a bit more…eccentric than others. And even though you’ve never met them, you’ve heard enough stories to satisfy your curiosity.
“This isn’t the manwhore cousin, right? Because if it is then no”
She scoffs, “No. Aegon hasn’t set food in a gym since graduating and he only went cos it was free. The personal trainer one is Aemond. He’s a bit…anti-social?” she pulls a face when she says it.
“He’s anti-social and he’s a personal trainer?” you ask, eyebrow raised, “makes so much sense”
Baela scrolls through her contacts, “Yeahhh. Don’t worry though, he’s just grumpy” she explains, “want me to text him?”
Your head falls to the edge of the sofa in a huff. You want to go and on top of that, it might be nice to finally have a break. That and you’d love to shove it in your exes face when he sees you’re on holiday looking your hottest.
“How long ‘til the holiday?”
Baela grins victoriously, “A month and a bit. He does a month course for stuff like this, I can ask him about it”
What the fuck am I getting myself into, you think briefly.
Fuck it.
“Fine”
The force at which Baela’s nails tap against the screen is almost desperate.
Baela snorts a laugh at the message and turns her phone to show you the messages.
“He seems lovely” you roll your eyes sarcastically.
“Like I said, he’s just grumpy. He’ll be professional though” she says.
You sigh, crushing the empty bag of crisps in your hands.
“Can’t wait”
After following him on instagram, you did a bit of shameless stalking. You’d heard a little bit about Aemond from Baela talking about her family, but he seemed the most mysterious out of all of them (save for the youngest whose name she struggled to even remember).
He had very little photos of himself, mainly progress pictures of other clients he’s helped. And he seems to be pretty successful so far. A girl with a similar body to you managed to get toned on his one-month program and looked hot afterwards, so you had some high hopes that it was possible for you as well. But you did wonder what he looked like. There were only two photos where he was in frame, and he’d been tagged by another person, looking away from the camera.
From what you could see, he was very tall, lithe and slim but built, with silver hair that had been pulled up into a bun. Ah, so he’s a man-bun type of guy. Yikes.
Unfortunately, the photo showed very little of his face, so you couldn’t be too nosy.
You sent a very brief message, introducing yourself, trying not to cringe at the idea that he might be doing the exact same stalking to your instagram right at this moment. A shiver went up your spine at the thought.
It’s only when you’re in TKMaxx with Baela, shopping for gym gear the next day, that you finally get a reply from him.
“What do you think of just wearing a sports bra?” Baela says, eyeing up a black shirt.
You’re too busy staring at the message, “Hm? Oh, I’d just go in gym leggings and a bra yeah. Just got a reply from your mysterious cousin”
Baela hops over, “What’s he said? Nothing bad I hope” she grins.
You show her the screen.
Baela raises her eyebrows, “Very formal. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised” she says, seeming surprised that he’s at least cordial.
“It’s very ‘serial-killer-esque’ of him not to have a profile picture” you joke, locking your phone again.
Baela picks out a black gym set. Black leggings with a mesh pocket on the side for your phone and a black sports bra. You nod, “Yeah looks good to me”
“Oh please you’re gonna look hot in this” she smirks, leading you over to the counter to pay.
She rewards you for your efforts by driving you to McDonald's drive-thru. A send off to junk-food so to speak.
And when Monday rolls around, you nod in the mirror. She was right, it does look hot on you. At least in the safety of your flat where there’s nobody to look at you. In a gym, surrounded by other fit people and a personal trainer you’ve never met? It might feel slightly different.
There’s a faint swirl of anxiety in your gut but you pull your trainers on, grab a hair tie from your nightstand and drive to the gym you’ve agreed to meet at. Luckily it’s your local gym, large and packed to the brim with some good equipment at least. And you briefly wonder what kind of workouts you’ll be doing before pulling into the car park.
You see him as soon as you enter the gym. He’s very tall, slender but muscular and fucking gorgeous. What the fuck, is all you can think when you shamelessly scan him from head to toe. Like the pictures, he has his long silver hair in a bun, with a few pieces having come free and falling around his face. His legs are miles long in the black sweats he’s wearing, as well as the black top that sticks a bit too snugly to his front and shoulders, making your mouth water a bit.
And you can’t help but admire his side profile, how his jaw just so naturally and sharply juts into his chin. How his cheekbones sit so prominently and high on his face, framing his features. His sharp, defined nose. And you can’t see from here because he’s looking down at his phone, but his eyelashes are unnaturally long for a man. It’s just unfair, frankly.
Shaking yourself briefly from the trance you were in, you right yourself and approach him.
He looks up to see you before you even have a chance to open your mouth. Now that he's looking at you face on, you can see the shocking blue of his right eye and the paler, soft hue of the other. Not only that but the angry scar that ran down the side of his face, extending from his forehead to the mid part of his cheek, straight through the eye.
You look at it for a split second, surmising that perhaps he's partially sighted or blind in that eye. But you choose not to say anything and instead smile with an awkward wave.
"Hey, you must be Aemond"
He openly drags his eyes over you, from head to toe, just like you did a moment ago without his knowledge. But now that you're standing right in front of him, in the gym gear that you totally don't feel a bit self conscious in, it feels a bit weird.
He doesn't reply for a moment.
"I'm y/n" you say, forcing a smile to your nervous face.
"Hm" he responds lowly, "Baela's friend"
You pull an awkward face and nod.
You feel so stupidly small against this absolute giraffe of a man and you daren't step forward any more, for fear of looking even smaller under his judgemental and indifferent gaze.
He sighs and gestures for you to follow him, seeming disinterested as he looks down at his phone. For a brief second you wonder how this guy keeps his clients if he's this rude, but you shake the thought away, not wanting to judge too quickly.
He leads you into one of the consultation rooms, separate from the rest of the gym. He sits on one of the seats, sighing as if he's had the hardest day in the world and taking a swig of water from his bottle.
Sat across from him, you feel a bit small under his gaze. He's quite intimidating, you now find.
"Have you ever worked out before" he asks flatly.
You shrug, "I've tried I guess, but never super seriously" you laugh awkwardly, but he doesn't return it.
He runs his eyes over you again, as if to say yeah I can see that.
"Stand up. Shoes off. We're going to take your weight and measurements" he orders, going to his bag to grab some things.
It's beyond awkward and quiet in the room with him as he idly takes down your weight, height and current eating habits, which you've had to be more honest about than you'd cared to admit.
Standing in the middle of the room, he twirls his measuring tape on his fingers. He measures your upper body first, which isn't too bad until he gets to your bust. You try and look anywhere else in the room while he measures across it, his fingers landing softly at either arm, taking a note of the measurement. You internally scold yourself, he is so much taller and surely must be able to see right down the sports bra. It only serves to make your face heat up with embarrassment.
If that wasn't enough, he gets to your lower body, measuring your hips and then thighs. He gets to his knees to do it and you resist the urge to pull your hands into fists at the proximity of him to your intimate area, separated only by a thin pair of gym leggings and underwear.
He doesn't seem to bother himself with the awkwardness. And every time you look at his face, he seems indifferent, bored even. Even then, his face is unnaturally beautiful, even with the scar.
He must really not like people.
Aemond sighs having taken all his notes.
"We'll do one training session and see how much weight we can do" he instructs. You nod.
"I expect you to be in the gym four times a week, three in the week and once at the weekend. We'll do one session together a week so I can check your progress"
His tone is so flat, all you can do is nod. He looks at you,
"Got it?"
Your cheeks heat up, "Um, yeah"
"Good"
He leads you outside to the actual gym floor which luckily isn't too busy, side-eyeing you massively when you pull your hair up into a ponytail to get it off your neck.
His large form leads you over to where the mats are kept, haphazardly throwing two to the floor.
He doesn't say anything past one or two word commands and it's incredibly difficult to not look in the mirror in front of you to watch him as he stretches. The way he stretches his arms over his head and it lifts the hem of his shirt a little, showing his happy trail, biceps rippling.
And when he does leg stretches, instructing you to do the same, you can't help but stare at how his thighs are basically bulging out from his sweats. It takes all of your strength and will to not look any higher than that towards his hips.
He watches your form as you try and copy him stretching. And your heart almost leaps into your chest when he uses his hand to move your ankle slightly, so that you put pressure on a certain muscle. But he focuses completely, professional.
Fuck, be professional.
All caution is thrown completely to the wind when he gets you on machines. He demonstrates some of them first, starting with the so-called 'easier' ones, like the inner and outer thigh machines that look way too…suggestive.
Of course, he's got it on a ridiculous weight to demonstrate which makes you scoff a bit. And when you get on the inner thigh machine, it locks into place with your legs spread. You thank every god there is that there's no mirror in front of you on this machine.
"You have to start with your legs spread as much as possible" he states simply, pushing the pads against your legs even further. It makes your eyes widen, sinful thoughts pop up in your head. But before they take root you shake them away.
It's ridiculously hard the first few times and he raises an eyebrow.
"Really?" He mocks a bit, the tiniest of smirks on his face "you're only on 14kg"
"Fuck off" you mutter under your breath. He tuts and changes it to 9kg, bruising your ego a bit. But you finish the set nonetheless.
You think he's a bit of a psycho, because after that little remark he has you on every leg machine available. Making fun every time you have to be on the lowest weight.
After the session, you're aching in places you didn't even know existed and you haven't even rested yet. Knowing full well you'll be achy as fuck tomorrow and even wlrse than right now. The faintest sheen of sweet is visible on your pinkened chest.
"You're weaker than I thought"
He runs his long fingers through his hair and you want to slap that stupid fucking self-indulgent look off his smug face seeing you all out of puff like this.
"Thanks, means a lot" you say sarcastically, drinking from a water bottle. He raises an eyebrow at the attitude.
"I'll send you your workout plan. If you have any issues do me a favour and don't bother me with them" he retorts.
"Charming" you mutter under your breath once he's gone past you. You watch as he walks away, briefly appreciating his broad shoulders, until the sour taste of his poor behaviour settles in. And you huff, texting Baela immediately.
You curse every god there is that you drive a manual car, because right now the thought of having your aching leg pressing on the clutch pedal might actually drive you to mass-murder.
This is going to be a long month.
Taglist: @mrsgrwy @lovelykhaleesiii
#aemond targaryen#aemond x reader#aemond smut#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x you#aemond fanfiction#aemond fic#modern!aemond targaryen#modern!aemond x reader#modern!aemond#modern!aemond smut#modern!hotd#aemomd targaryen smut#aemond one eye#aemond stannies#personaltrainer!aemond#aemomd x you#aemond imagine#modern!aemond targaryen x you#modern!aemond targaryen x reader
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ONE YEAR OF FLOWER&BLOOD
✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙
Exactly one year ago I posted my first chapter of the My Best Friend series. Nowadays I think it's something awful and I don't even try to edit it because I'd have to write everything from scratch, but I've left it for people who feel attached to the story. I remember getting about six likes and one comment on the first day and that huuuuge interest made me eager to create chapter 2 and then all the others.
I remember the excitement with which I waited and then replied to comments, not believing that people were actually waiting for the next chapter. At the time I was literally not following anyone, which was good because I wasn't comparing myself to anyone.
Eventually I felt I was ready to try writing other series and a few were successful enough that I decided to stay here permanently and create because it made me happy. Up to that point, everyone had been very kind to me and I started following more and more blogs, wanting to feel part of the fandom, to make friends with everyone. Now I know that was the biggest mistake I made.
Seeing things that didn't interest me, fanfic's whose way of writing couldn't draw me in, I felt frustrated, while at the same time fearing that if I stopped following someone, that person would see it as an affront. At the same time, The Impossible Choice, my biggest project until The Fall from the Heavens (which I'm currently editing and re-editing, while inserting on AO3), began to be written.
Just when I thought I had reached the pinnacle of my abilities (which wasn't true), I also started to clash with anonymous hate messages, probably the worst of which were those vilifying me and my husband, and those regarding my one-shot with Micheal Gavey. I know now that taking it personally and getting involved was my big mistake, and the fandom was shaken by drama that got out of hand.
I was a few steps away from deleting my blog at the time, but my husband talked me out of the idea (thankfully, as my stories aren't saved anywhere else − I'm only now moving them to AO3).
That's when I first realised that some people here I don't even like, and they probably don't like me. I wondered, why are we following each other then? Why are we pretending to have any courtesy? It was only later that I realised that to be considered someone's friend, you have to reblog their work and preferably agree with them even when they write hurtful things.
Since I've depleted my circle of those I follow to about 20 people, since I've blocked dozens of people and tags, there's been blissful silence (with the exceptions of when I write about behaviour in the fandom that I find toxic and someone accuses me of causing drama, but I'm used to it now). I've also never written happier than I do now.
Ideas come to me on their own, I don't feel uptight about what other big people will think of me, whether they reblog it, approve of it or not. I don't give a shit and life is beautiful! Although I can be emotionally unstable, I'm only 70 people short of crossing the next milestone of 3,000 followers, and that's BIG for me. It amuses me that I keep getting messages that someone is going to block me or stop following me, and you guys keep coming. It's gratifying.
I'm going to keep writing for you guys, and I'm sure during season two you'll also see my posts describing my impressions after the episodes in which I hope to involve my husband. I'll also keep you updated here on how I'm doing with my book I'm creating in my private life.
Apreciation
@ewanmitchellcrumbs
Ange. I know that sometimes I'm fucked up, but I want you to know that you've made this place so much more bearable for me that I can't imagine it without you. What I appreciate most about you is that you can talk and discuss, that you always try to understand the other side, that you are empathetic, warm and kind. I feel that, like friends in everyday life, we can also tell each other about things we disagree about, and there are not many people like that here.
On top of that, you are very talented and your stories are always a pleasure to read, even when they are short, you are able to build the plot and atmosphere perfectly, something I have always admired. Thank you for every kind word and understanding.
I still remember your first message to me via ask, referring to the fact that I didn't want to write a pairing with a mermaid because someone else was writing about it at the same time. My heart melted then, it was so nice!
@targaryenrealnessdarling
Liz, Queen of Angst! Your calmness and composure puts me in awe. You're disgustingly talented when it comes to writing and you have a super-sweet personality. When you started following me I began to squirm with delight, and when you started reblogging my stuff? My goodness!!!
@persephonerinyes
You've been engaging and reblogging my stories for as long as I can remember. Always involved, your thoughts make me smile. Thank you for being with me for so long!
@zenka96
You've been here with me since the dawn of time. You know that I love you. Your support from the very beginning really makes me feel like I have a friend here.
@huramuna
I am so proud of you! I remember your asks when I wrote Glass Cuts Deepest, your illustrations for me and your uncertainty about whether you should start writing yourself. I'm so happy for you and that you are so successful! You deserved it.
@black-dread & @aegonx
You are my favourite gif makers. Your work always leaves me in awe, you are amazing! I know how much work you put into it and somehow you make even the worst lit scenes look wonderful!
@summerposie; @0eessirk8; @melsunshine; @immyowndefender; @bellaisasleep; @kckt88; @thedamewithabook; @happinessinthebeing; @queenofshinigamis; @travelingmypassion; @mefools; @fan-goddess; @toodlesxcuddles; @ammo23; @troublesomesnitch; @mariahossain; @out-of-life; @apothe-roses; @heavenhatesme; @whitearemydarkestnight; @liv-cole; @blackswxnn; @echos-muses; @watercolorskyy; @at-a-rax-ia; @tssf-imagines; @snh96; @hiatuswhore; @exitpursuedbyavulcan; @darylandbethfanforever9; @the-dendrophile-bookdragon; @opheliaas-stuff @zaldritzosrose
Your comments and reblogs make me want to keep writing. You make me laugh, you comfort me and you support me. I know I'm definitely forgetting someone, but I want you to know that I love everyone who comments on my stories and there is nothing better for me than responding to your reactions and questions! I have known some of you for so many months that I truly consider you my good friends!
lottie-blue-star; aveatquevale-; aemondtargaryenwifey marvelescvpe; alphard-hydraes-blog; herejusttostan; li0nn3stuff; alexandrawho; vilmakamunen; angelinap09; theloveablestargirl; rose-blue-19; xxxkat3xxx; flosaureum; mandiiblanche; librawh0re; jasminecosmic99; ivvypg; rojocarnation; killmanduh; tokkiiidoll; wolfdressedinlace; angelofvivianne; nina2697; starwarsgirlsimmer1; katsucker; ipostwhtifeel; aemondsdelight; ilswemoon; tigrigri; pasta-rask; roselibrary; lystargs; gemini-mama; nikstrange; tempo-rary-fix; coffeeobsessedtrencher; gwuinivyre; dreamerbythewayx; diiickbrainn; mothmankit
And everyone else I missed and whose icons I would recognize from afar. I know that you have been with me for many months, often in silence or communicating anonymously. Your silent support and presence is something wonderful for me, knowing that you have been with me for so long and read all my posts!
Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!!
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A Little Mad Sometimes
Pairing: Ghostface x Fem!reader / Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. FILTH, PWP, cursing, protected PIV, oral (male and fem receiving), degradation kink, toxic smut, mocking, minor knife kink, use of pet names, overstimulation if you squint, all consensual. Established relationship.
Summary: Playing hide and seek with Billy and Stu looking for you was beyond fun. But they have to catch you eventually.
Word Count: 4,032k
A/N: Full moon's out, I'm out being feral again. Happy Halloweek! Time for more spooky smut, because YESSS. This is my favorite gif of them. I'm off to throw this movie on for the thousandth time. Tagging those who interacted with my previous fic, I can totally remove it if you don't want to be tagged! Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! Please put age in bios or else I block!
Taglist: @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @notapradagurl7 @lovedlover @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @planetblaque
The heavy thud of a knife hit a table somewhere in the house and you flinched. Your hand knocked into the wall with a small smack and you bit your lip to keep from crying out. Your heart thundered in your chest. Anticipation and fear mixed into a heady cocktail.
You squeezed your bare thighs together, your short shorts were barely long enough to cover your ass. That was Billy’s idea. His favorite part of you was your thighs. Watching them, holding them, kneading them. If he was near you, he was touching you.
You dared to peek in between the door jam and the door. All of the lights were off casting everything in shades of black and gray. With the lack of sight, your hearing strained for anything familiar. Anything to put you at ease.
Every so often, you’d hear a creak. Or the whoosh of a door being opened. But was it them? Or was it just the house settling? Each new sound set your nerves on edge.
Playing hide and seek was so much harder with two people looking for you than just one. The house was on the big side, so there were plenty of areas to hide in. But if they ever cornered you, you were done for.
Of course, the goal was to find you, but your competitive side didn’t want to make it easy. You wore socks to help muffle your movements. Since they were scarily quiet on a good day, you made them wear boots. But then they warned that you had to move around the house. You couldn’t just camp out behind a door forever. They needed you loosened up and limber. For reasons.
The hallway was pitch black; even if they were standing right at the door, you wouldn’t be able to see them. Still, rules were rules. You slid out from behind your bedroom door, peeking down both sides of the hallway. There was no movement, so you crept slowly down.
If you could make it to the bathroom…
The stairs creaked, sending your heartbeat through the roof. You huffed, whipping your head to the other end of the hallway. A shadow played on the wall. A figure moved slowly. A knife scraped against the wall.
“This is our best game yet,” a voice whispered. You didn’t know if it was Billy or Stu walking up the steps. It didn’t bode well that you only knew where one was.
You lifted your feet slowly but quickly, tiptoeing down the hall. Your eyes were trained on the stairs, watching that shadow move higher and higher. Your pulse jumped in your throat.
Your hand searched behind you for the door. Finding it, you slowly backed in. You didn’t dare move the door as you got behind it, close to the wall. The house was older than those in the neighborhood and everything fucking creaked. You suspected your parents liked it that way. Wouldn’t want you to sneak out without them noticing. Without a chance to stop you from doing something naughty. If only they could see their baby girl now.
You strained to hear over the sound of your heartbeat. One of them stopped making sounds. You were sure, even in their boots, that the carpet underneath muffled the sound. You could only rely on that faint sixth sense of the area around you.
Light rustling made you widen your eyes. Not that you could really see anything. But you begged for any type of night vision. You heard him move down the hallway, trailing his knife against the wall. You licked your lips, your mouth going dry.
Fuck! This was the wrong place to hide. He stopped outside of the bathroom door, presumably staring in.
You slid a hand over your mouth, quiet as you could, to prevent him from hearing you breathe. “Come out, come out,” he whispered. He sighed. The door flew towards you with a loud kick from him and you jumped.
The door got caught on the rug, preventing it from slamming against you and giving away your position. You shook. Adrenaline pumped through you. Distantly, there was a sound of a door slamming against the wall. These two were so in sync it was frightening sometimes.
But, good to know that they weren’t on the same level of the house. Bad to know that they weren’t on the same level of the house. Either one could catch you as you moved about, scurrying to avoid detection.
The one near you stepped into the bathroom. You watched the shadows undulate as he moved. His ghostface mask was a stark contrast against the darkness. The ghostly image seemed to float in mid air. You were fairly sure this was Billy.
He was a lot calmer, more rational of the pair. He had ice water in his veins. Moving like a predator where Stu stumbled around like an excited baby giraffe.
A crashing noise split the air. Billy turned to the sound and ran down the hallway. You heard his thunderous footsteps descend the stairs and you eased out of the bathroom once more, crossing the hall, towards your parents room. You thought about the attic, but that was too easy. They found you there in under twenty minutes last time. It wasn’t easy to move around up there in the dark, plus it was creepy and full of spiderwebs. No thank you.
You moved quickly, sliding to the floor and shimmying under the bed. The cushy carpet slid over your skin as you wiggled underneath. Your chest burned with the need to take a full breath. You counted in your head, willing your racing heart to calm down.
But you were too anxious. Too keyed up with the thrill of being prey. You heard the stairs creak again. You strained once more, trying to discern any and all types of sound.
Cold slender hands encircled your ankles and yanked. You screamed, throat burning, kicking your legs. But it was futile. The hands gripped you harder, pulling you completely out from under the bed until you were exposed.
“Oh, what do we have here?” Stu’s excited voice carried from beneath his mask.
“Wait!” You yelled out.
Light flooded the room rendering you blind temporarily. You blinked away hot tears as Stu stood in front of you and Billy leaned against the door frame. He tilted his head as Stu gripped you by the arms now and lifted you clean off of the ground.
He turned you roughly, to face Billy. His hands were like steel, wrenching your arms behind your back. He pushed into you and your head barely came up to his chin. “I caught a rabbit,” he sang.
He removed his mask, chuckling in your ear. He ran his hands up and down your arms. Goosebumps pebbled your skin.
“I thought you were downstairs,” you pouted. You stared as Billy lazily removed his mask. His hair fell over his brow and you couldn’t help a quiet hum. Watching these two never failed to take your breath away. They were gorgeous. They were intense. They didn’t do anything by half measures.
“Remind me to give that stupid animal extra treats,” Stu said with a dreamy sigh.
“You bastard! You two planned this,” you said.
Billy’s smirk only confirmed it. Of course they planned it. It was uncanny how Billy seemed to know your moves before you did.
“It’s not hard. Figured you’d run to mommy and daddy’s room. Is that where you want it?” Billy asked as he crept closer. “To be fucked in your parents’ bed?”
You loosed a breath. The thought hadn’t even occurred to you. You ran in here because it was the only logical place from the bathroom. The bell had been rung. You glanced towards the bed. It would be much bigger than your little full sized bed.
“I think she’s considering it,” Billy said to Stu, talking over your head. Stu grinned and chuckled, his warm breaths fanning across your neck.
His hands slipped from your arms, no longer trying to restrain you. He moved his hands to your chest, immediately grabbing your tits and pushed them together. You wore a flimsy tank top, no bra.
The house was cold, courtesy of Billy once more. Your arms were freezing while your nipples poked out and Stu zeroed in on them, tweaking and rolling it between his fingers. Sharp zings of pleasure ran through you.
You were equal parts hot and cold. Your skin was overly sensitive, waiting. Stu licked the shell of your ear and you moaned, the traitorous sound escaping before you could snatch it back.
“We caught you. Know what that means?” Billy asked. He tilted his head once more, his hair falling into his eyes. You groaned and stomped your foot.
“You know this is bullshit,” you said. But inside, your mouth watered thinking of wrapping your lips around Billy’s dick. You leaned on the tips of your toes as Stu pinched your nipples. A sound of protest left you and Stu mocked you.
“Aww, too rough?” He asked.
“Yes,” you said.
“Too bad,” he said and laughed. He continued to pinch and tug at your nipples. Your panties grew more damp by the second.
“Knees,” Billy huffed out. You dropped down, watching him the whole time. He watched you descend, waited till your knees hit the ground and shook his head. He inclined his head to Stu and you shivered. You couldn’t decide who you wanted your hands on more. You turned around.
“Thanks buddy,” Stu said. He unzipped his pants, wasting no time shoving them down and stepping out of them. His shirt went next and he eagerly pumped his fingers along his length.
You watched the action, licking your lips in anticipation. You knew the taste of him and yet you gingerly moved your head forward, licking his offered dick. He groaned at the first swipe of your tongue.
He was so tall. It was near impossible to maintain eye contact with him while you pleased him. So you didn’t try. You opened your mouth and he shoved in, groaning at the feel of your mouth. “Fuck, that’s good,” he moaned.
His hands petted you as you suckled and worshiped his dick. You felt Billy kneel behind you and you shifted until he could scoot in more. “Suck harder,” he commanded.
You did as he instructed, sucking harder on Stu who moaned uncontrollably. “Fucker,” Stu moaned.
“Play with his balls,” Billy said. You raised your hands and softly massaged Stu’s balls. His dick twitched in your mouth, his hips leaning away. You chased him, fighting to fit more of him back inside.
Billy’s hands moved up and down your body. He lifted your shirt and played with the soft skin underneath. His cold fingers found your hardened nipples and you moaned around Stu’s dick keeping a steady rhythm in your mouth.
You tried to play with Stu, tried to tease him a little. Your tongue swirled the tip of his dick. But Billy’s hands on you were breaking your concentration.
“Faster,” Billy snapped. You cried and bobbed your head, taking Stu deeper. You moved your hands to Stu’s thighs because there was no way that you could fondle him and focus on what Billy was up to.
Billy moved his right hand lower, slipping underneath the waistband of your shorts. He moved lower, past your panties, and teased your dripping wet slit. “She’s fucking soaked, Stu,” Billy cooed in your ear.
Stu’s dick twitched with a deep groan from him. You licked the vein on the underside of his dick, carefully tracing the curve. “Fuck,” he groaned and released hot cum down your throat.
“Swallow it like a good little slut,” Billy said.
You did as he demanded. You swallowed Stu’s load. Stu slipped from your lips with a sigh and painted the rest of his cum on your lips. His dark grin turned feral as your lips glistened with his cum.
You licked the rest of him from your lips. “My turn,” Billy said.
Stu pulled you up to stand in front of him. He removed your tank top, squatting down to kiss your belly, your chest, lick your nipple, and your neck. The shirt went over your head while Billy tugged your shorts and panties off.
You stepped out of it and faced both of them. They were gorgeous. Complete opposites and yet so similar. Billy’s dark hair suited him. Stu’s hair was a grade lighter, more brown and closer cropped.
Billy shoved you onto the bed and you flopped onto it, bouncing a little. Stu groaned and moved around to the other side of the bed. He grabbed you roughly, spinning you around and pushing you into the position he wanted.
He laid you on your back, your head back towards Billy. He spread your legs and looked at your dripping wet pussy. His eyes practically sparkled as he drank you in. “You really liked my dick in your mouth, didn’t you?” Stu asked softly.
You leaned up on your elbows. The sound of Billy moving made you wonder if he was finally getting undressed. You kept your eyes on Stu though, on the subtle vulnerability there. “It’s all I think about,” you said.
Stu’s eyes widened, his mouth dropping a little in surprise.
“Sometimes I can’t stand it. Sitting on my bed, late at night, with the burning need to cum,” you said. Stu licked his lips and climbed onto the bed.
“I have the door closed, my panties off, my fingers buried in my pussy,” you said.
Stu huffed, his face close to your core. “I bet you get them in deep,” he said. His gaze dropped to your pussy, to the way it clenched and contracted around nothing.
“I can only get them so far. It’s not like when you’re inside me, so deep, so good,” you moaned. A rush of heat ran through you as you watched Stu’s eyes light up. You never had to doubt if he wanted you. Hunger and desire played over his features. He leaned in, rubbing his nose through your slit.
“Tell him the rest,” Billy said. He moved closer to your head. You leaned your head upside down. He glanced at you, still so cool and collected. Sometimes, you wonder why Billy bothered with you. You were gorgeous, of course, but Billy got that look in his eye. Like he was picturing what you looked like on the inside.
It should frighten you. You suspected that he really would kill someone. Just to see. But then he’d smile, like nothing was wrong. He’d make a joke or change the subject to something random. Or he’d place your hand on the front of his pants and tell you that he needed you. And who were you to resist?
“I get so wet and needy. Thinking of you. Wishing you were there, getting me off instead. Sometimes I hump my pillow too,” you returned your eyes to Stu.
He watched you with that small look in his eyes. Like he wanted to reject what you were saying. “I have to bite my pillow to keep from screaming your name,” you said. You were making yourself wetter. It was just the other day that you did this. Thinking of them got you so hot and bothered. You’d spend hours in your room, playing with yourself, getting yourself worked up thinking of what else they can do to you.
Billy caressed your cheek, pulling your attention to him. He smiled. He leaned down and kissed you. Your lips pressed together seamlessly. His tongue danced with yours. Stu flattened his tongue against your slit, licking up the arousal that seeped past your pussy lips.
You gasped into Billy’s mouth and he hummed. “Like that, huh?”
You nodded, kissing him again. “Need to be full, don’t you?”
“Yes, please, please,” you whined.
Billy looked over at Stu and nodded. Something passed between them. Stu stopped and you whined, wanting his tongue back on you. He placed his hands under your ass and pushed. Billy grabbed you under your arms and pulled. You scooted across the bed as if you weighed nothing.
Your head hung off the bed. Billy slapped your face with his thick dick. “Open up,” he said. He rolled his neck as you opened your mouth. He pushed inside, grunting.
Stu moved up the bed, positioning himself in between your legs. His tongue lapped up your juices before his fingers spread you open. Then he truly went to work, sucking and licking your pussy.
You cried out, mouth too full of Billy to say anything. Your hips wriggled on the bed. Stu grabbed your thighs and pushed them open wider, as wide as they would go, and feasted on you. Billy grabbed your flailing arms and pinned them to the bed.
He started to stroke, moving in and out of your mouth. His pace was smooth and unhurried, but he shoved in without a care. You choked and he kept going, knowing your limits. “You can do it. Suck me down,” he coaxed.
Stu was relentless, flicking your clit back and forth. Their styles were mixed and it was driving you nuts. You didn’t know who to pay attention to. Your pussy throbbed and your legs shook. Your pathetic whines did nothing to sway the both of them to mercy.
Stu moved his whole head, your juices coating the entire lower half of his face. “Taste so fuckin’ good,” he moaned.
You whined, your moans vibrating across Billy’s dick. He sighed and panted as he moved in and out of your mouth. “Like getting fucked, don’t you?”
“Mhhm,” you moaned. He still held you down. You tested his restraint, but he gave you no wiggle room. He was fucking your mouth and you were going to lay there and take it.
Stu switched tactics. One of his hands brushed across your thigh, down towards your pussy. He plunged two fingers inside and you leaned up, the pleasure too intense for words. He pumped his fingers in time with his tongue.
Your stomach flipped, your orgasm building higher and faster. You cried and moaned but it came anyway, flushing through you and rolling over you in waves. Your eyes crossed riding it and Billy still fucked your mouth. Your moans seemed to spur him on faster and faster until he was shooting his load into your mouth.
It was odd to swallow him down this way, but you had plenty of practice over the past few months. Billy grumbled something as he slipped out. Stu moved back, pulling his fingers out of you and licking his fingers.
You were as limp as noodles, so sure that you were completely spent. What a fucking rush. The adrenaline from earlier had morphed into a mix of pain and pleasure as your orgasm ran its course. But they were far from done.
Billy and Stu moved in tandem to position you how they wanted. Now, you were on your knees, ass in the air, and leaning on your elbows. Stu leaned up on his knees on the bed, his erect dick jumping close to your face.
Billy stood behind you, his still hard dick poking at your entrance. It was so tempting to have him fuck you raw, to feel him without a barrier in between you. The last thing you two wanted were kids. Fucking yuck.
“What are we going to do with our little cock-hungry whore?” Stu asked. He had his head cocked to the side, looking down at you.
“She’s so fucking needy,” Billy said. He moved away, probably to grab a condom. You heard his clothing hit the ground, a package opening, and then Billy was back at your entrance.
“It’s taking more and more to please her every time,” Billy continued. They talked about you as if you were an object. Just a dumb little toy they played with together.
Stu ran his thumb across your lips and you sucked him in, needing something in your fucking mouth. You were spent, but fuck, you wanted them. You were mad with the lust, with the desire to have them to yourself.
“Open up like a good slut,” Stu said.
You opened your mouth and Stu slipped his dick in, a deep sigh escaping him as he threw his head back. “Fuck,” he grunted. His face twisted, the pleasure too much for him. That only turned you on more. That you got to turn him on too. You had the power to render him slack jawed, face turned towards the ceiling, bliss across his pretty features.
Billy shoved in with one hard thrust and you braced yourself on the bed to keep from shoving face first into Stu’s groin.
You growled, the feeling of being full overpowering and heady. “Do that again, that felt fucking amazing,” Stu said.
You thought he was talking to you. Billy pulled out and then shoved back in, deeper and harder this time. Your growl was immediate, tapered off with a whine. “Oh fuck, so good,” Stu whispered.
Billy pounded into your slick walls, grabbing your hips and throwing you down onto his dick. His fingers dug into your soft flesh, digging for purchase. He angled up and hit your G spot. Tears rushed to your eyes at how deep he was. He felt too good. Too amazing. Stu’s dick in your mouth twitched as he watched Billy fuck you. Watched the tears leak from your eyes and down your face.
“Aw, is it too much?” He asked.
“Mhm,” you said.
“You hear that Billy? She wants more,” Stu said.
You screeched as Billy increased his pace, hitting that spot over and over until you were shaking through another orgasm. Your body went limp, your thighs spasming and convulsing. Billy held you up, still ramming inside of you.
The force of Billy’s thrusts pushed you onto Stu. It was like he was fucking you both. Stu muttered incoherently as your mouth took him deeper and slobber drooled from your lips and onto the bed. Your arousal gushed out of you, leaking down your thighs.
“Shit, shit, there, right there,” Stu stuttered. He bit his lip and moaned as he climaxed, hot splashes of his cum coating your tongue. Your mouth worked on its own, sucking him down and drinking every drop he gave you.
Billy leaned over you, panting and huffing. His fingers still dug into your hips as if he were afraid to let you go. Stu massaged your jaw as he coaxed his dick from your mouth. He wiped up the drool and winked at you.
You couldn’t take another one. But you desperately wanted to flip over so that Stu could have a turn. He chuckled as if he could read the thought on your face.
“We know your limits, babe,” he said. He leaned down and kissed you, swiping his tongue across your lips. “We have all weekend for more,” he said.
You wanted to protest. You wanted to please him now. You wanted them both to have a turn inside of you. You worked your jaw, working the dull ache out. But a yawn escaped you.
Stu softly pushed you to lay down on your side. He curled in behind you, his warm chest into your back. You hummed as his warmth encapsulated you completely. Billy disappeared to get rid of the condom.
“Look at you two,” he murmured. He turned off the lights, plunging you back into the inky darkness.
“You’re not invited,” Stu said. You elbowed him softly and he protested.
“There’s plenty of room.” Billy laid down in front of you, facing you. He kissed you softly.
“Ours,” he barely breathed. Maybe he didn’t think you’d hear him, but you kissed the corner of his mouth. He smirked and shook his head.
Stu snored softly in your ear. You giggled, snuggling deeper into him. Between the two of them, you felt like you were in a sauna. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Psst, there's more! The Secret Ghostface Files
#Megaminds Secret Files#The Secret Ghostface Files#Scream smut#Scream fanfic#Scream fan fic#Scream fan fiction#Scream fanfiction#Billy x Stu x Reader#x reader#x you#Billy x you#Stu x you#Billy and Stu#Billy Loomis#Stu Macher#ghostface smut#ghostface fanfic#ghostface fan fic#ghostface fanfiction#ghostface fan fiction
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Continuously Frayed - Ghost
Summary - Little interactions that fluster Ghost and you.
Tags/Warnings - Art by circeisms on Pintrest, Banners by @/saradika-graphics, MDNI 18+, smut, flirting, sexual tension, implied masturbation, cursing, depictions of combat, grappling, unwarranted anger/irritation, domination @glossysoap @divine--serenity @violet-phantoms @quietlyignoringyou
A/N - Personally, I feel like it's so likely that any woman doing field work on the task force has a dominant side. Loves having power over men and babygirling them. I'll also post the final part separately and link it.
Y/N could hear his slow steps before he came through the door. She was just coming off night shift and still struggled sleeping at the right times.
Ghost had just woken up with a tight feeling in his chest and throat, autopiloting to the bright lights of the barracks kitchen. He had his head down, eyes squinted and a hand partly blocking his eyes from the light as he shuffled in. Y/N was leaning against the counter just watching him. She internally cooed with her palm on her chin, slightly covering her mouth to hide a small smile and giggle.
He walked right up to where she was before her feet came into his narrowed line of sight. Shooting his head up, he stared wide eyed at her heavy eyes and enticing expression. "Good morning, Simon." She muttered through her hand. He grunted in response. He was still so warm from sleep that Y/N could feel it coming off of him at this distance. He looked so vulnerable right now; maliable almost. It made her want to take advantage of his seemingly sleepy compliance. Ghost took a sluggish step back and rubbed his face, pressing his palm into his eyes to help wake them up.
"Simon?" "Hhm?" "Would you do me a favor, big boy?" A momentary pause from him. He could do nothing as he felt those words settle hotly in his abdomen, "fuck..." he whispered, peeking over his hand into her eyes, "Yeah?" "Would you help me out? I was going to get a little breakfast bar, but it's a bit out of my reach. Since you're here... why don't you grab it for me?" He glanced up and behind her to what she was talking about and then back at her. She isn't short, but she still looked up at him through her lashes.
Y/N had no intention of moving, she wanted to him to get close. Work around her. Wanted to be in his way. He groaned softly to himself as he nodded and pulled his hand from his face. He wasn't wearing his mask and Y/N could see his skin still flushed warm from sleep. He waited only a moment for her to move before understanding she had no intention of doing so and just reached around easily to grab it. She didn't flinch or shy away, looking up at him even as his chest practically touched her chin. His stomach was fluttering and skin burning under her stare, but he looked down at her as he handed her the snack.
She gave a cocky, mischievous smile and brushed her fingers over his as she plucked her little breakfast bar from his hand, looking him up and down briefly.
"You're such a sweet boy, Si." She lilted
Simon's stomach twisted and he swallowed thickly as his cock throbbed at her praise. He nodded curtly. She liked the wary expression he had on his face as she walked out and headed for the gym. He turned just in time to see her hair swish behind her as she walked out. He struggled to think of what he came in to grab when he suddenly felt the cooling precum on his sweatpants. Letting out a whimper he covered his eyes and leaned against the counter where Y/N was just a few seconds ago.
Regardless of how tight the squad is, Ghost is almost convinced she can't stand him lately. That he must've done something to piss her off with how terse she's been with him. And because half way during the workout this time, Y/N suddenly grabs her shit mumbling, "I can not fucking deal with y'all right now.", before moving to a rack on the other side of the weight room. Soap and gaz choke back laughter because its so obvious to THEM that she's got a crush on Ghost and doesnt know how to deal with it. Blown out pupils, lingering stares and flushed skin; sweating when they've barely even started. But she's so good at making sure HE never catches her acting out.
Y/N is practically killing herself over there now, doubling her reps to get any of the nervous, aroused energy out of her system. She's trembling with the energy of it. She cant get the image of Ghost's print in his shorts or the pump in his arms from doing chest out of her mind. He's sweating and his muscles are so much more defined and the testosterone boost is making his- Y/N sucks in a sharp breathe and decides she needs to go for more weight. She can NOT sit and spiral like this in public.
Meanwhile Ghost keeps glancing at her between sets and worrying she's pushing more weight than she should without a spot so he hesitantly makes his way to her rack while she benches and decides to silently spot for her. When his hands come into view and Y/N trails her gaze backwards to look at his face, she can see the print of his cock in his shorts again and in the middle of letting out a surprised huff of air, she accidentally moans.
He notices her struggling to re-rack the bar and grabs it, slotting it into place allowing her to shoot up with a grumbled, "Jesus fucking christ". She's fanning herself. Is this guy trying to kill her? Is there gonna be a wet spot on the bench when she stands up? Fuck it, she needs to get away from him. She leans forwards to grab her things again and jumps when Ghost slaps his hands onto her shoulders, squeezing them and giving her a little shake. "You're gonna ruin yourself if you try that shit again without a spotter, Y/N. Now get up, you're gonna spot me."
Y/N can hear soap bark a laugh and Gaz tell him to shut up as she looks back at Ghost in false outrage. He begins to take his hands from her shoulders in an attempt to start his set, but she grabs him by the shirt and pulls him down 2 inches away from her face. His eyes are wide, he's caught completely off guard, "Wha-" " Riley. If I have to spot you, i'm gonna be sitting on your fucking face while I do it."
The man is stunned; he's wearing just a regular face mask and knows his ears and neck are starting to turn pink. He swallows thickly and feels heat immediately flash through his body. He can feel his cock come to life as she gently shoves him back and grabs her things from the floor. Y/N spares him one fevered glance and feels her whole body pulse as she sees his wide, confused doe eyes. She takes off towards the women's locker room knowing that, thankfully, no one was ever in the sauna.
Her head swam and her vision lagged as she rolled on to her side and haggardly pushed herself up to her knees. Sweat and blood dripped from her lips and off of her nose. That fuck must've broken it. She blinked rapidly and trailed her gaze to him, trying to focus her vision. He was pulling his knife out of her dead attackers throat, and as her vision cleared she could see blood splattered all across his mask and exposed skin. Ghost stepped forward and reached out to meet her as she pushed herself up and towards him on unsteady legs. "Fuck, Lt...", y/n rasped out. "Fucking had that guy." She muttered in her best attempt at salvaging her pride. He held her up and grabbed her by the chin, moving her head around and carefully looking for anything worse than the obvious injuries. "You know-" She slurred, momentarily averting her gaze while gently blotting at her split lip, "-being covered in blood and dirt is a real good look on you." Their gazes met in a flash. "Quit talking Y/n." He averted his eyes, "You look like shit right now." He quipped.
His throat was tight from anxiety and rage. That guy almost had her. She knew it. She knew he knew it. Her grip on his vest tightened so much the fabric creaked under the tension. "Lt, can you take my helmet off?" A weary smile shifted her features, "I would do it myself, but... I think the only reason I'm still standing is because i'm holding onto you..." He swallowed and quickly scanned the area for any more threats. Their position was certainly compromised, but in her current state, relocating would be a real struggle for y/n. Looking back at her, they locked eyes. He shifted his gaze slightly down to the helmet strap he began fiddling with, carefully taking it off. She wouldn't stop looking at him. It was making him feel hot under all his gear. She lolled her head forward and leaned it onto his vest. "Thank you... Thank you so much for having my back all the time." Simon clenched his jaw and stayed silent. He wondered if she could feel or hear his heart beating. He could feel sweat beginning to form on his back and neck.
He carefully felt around her scalp for any abrasions. Stupid girl had too much confidence in him... HAS too much confidence in him. He patted her head and smoothed down her hair once he realized there were no other hidden head injuries. "You're the best partner i've ever had, Riley." She mumbles into his Kevlar. He furrowed his brows. Fuck, she had to have a head injury. She was never like this. He lifted her face and looked down at her, but the look in her eyes when she looked up at him made his chest tighten up and his face flush. He immediately tucked her head back into his chest. "Alright...", he took a deep breath, missing the weak smile that she couldn't bite back. "Enough of that. Let's sit you back down." He grumbled.
~~~~
"Can't always keep relying on me for everything, sergeant." Ghost had quipped at y/n after escorting her from the small clinic back at base. He was joking, but they both knew he was referring to their private interaction during the mission. Recovered from the shock and delirium of her attack, y/n felt the full brunt of the exposure that came with having spilled such personally held feelings. Ghost could see her turning red and smiled a bit. Knowing her pride was flaring and embarrasment was probably clawing at the inside of her skin, he looked away to give her a shred of respite. "Well, Sir...", she stopped in her tracks. "Maybe you'll just have to spend some time refreshing my training than, yeah?" Her face was still red and her eyes betrayed her frustration and embarrassment at his joke, but.... the coy smirk on her face gave him all the information he needed to interpret what her words meant. Her hand met his forearm with a coaxing squeeze as she stepped a little closer and lowly stated, "Gotta ensure I'm up to your standards." She held his gaze. "Wouldn't wanna disappoint you, Sir." Her hand slid from his arm as she walked off. Simon took a deep breath, lungs shuddering and tight muscles twitching. He clenched his fists as he watched her leave before immediately beelining for his office. The click of the office lock turning echoed in the empty hallway.
You'd gotten on his last nerve.
"Tomorrow, you and I are gonna hit the mats for that retraining you so boldly suggested on Friday."
Is what Ghost had leaned in to quietly growl, but that was after hours of arguing and dealing with your shitty mood during field training. Watching you walk into the combatives gym now in those spandex pants... he suddenly felt like he had bitten off more than he could chew. It made him incredibly antsy knowing it would just be the two of you alone the whole afternoon. Being the combatives instructor and, therefore, the gyms keyholder, no one could come in here unless they had scheduled some time with Ghost himself. It was something he had originally hoped would unnerve you.
Alas...
You on the otherhand were buzzing with excitement at the idea of grapling with your fellow Lieutenant. Being so close to him, hearing his little huffs and grunts, getting pinned by him, pinning him. You'd been such a pain in each other's ass during the field that you knew this would also be a mental attempt on both your parts to subjugate the other, but that wasnt what you were excited about... You hadn't spoken since your last argument in the HMMWV on the way back yesterday and the tension was felt fresh as you caught his stare. You and Ghost had never sparred before because you just... didn't have to. Now it seems, for the first time in two years, you were both sizing each other up as you stepped onto the mat one at a time.
It took an hour of getting your ass handed to you before you saw the best opening you could've asked for; you got him on his back in a mount. He'd been steadily losing stamina and now he was moving just a bit too slow to keep you at bay. A surge of elation ran through your chest. You shoved his right arm to the floor and dragged it up as you slipped your right arm around his neck, straightening it out to shift him onto his side. He was too big for just one hand to hold him in place so you planted your left fist next to your right one and shoved your right knee under his head to trap it between your fist and knee. You grabbed your other ankle and wrapped your leg around his neck, leaning forward. "Tap out, Riley." You grunted out between harsh breaths and a wild grin, "Your arms are too big for your own good, you git." You chuckled breathlessly, but secretly hoped he was out of stamina. You knew he was too big for you to keep holding if he tried hard enough to escape.
Ghost's grunts turn into soft huffs after a few seconds and you feel him reluctantly tap your thigh twice. If it wasn't for your pride you would've slumped onto the floor, but instead you relax your muscles and ease your grip on him. He wiggles a little bit before just opting to lay on his back; still under you and wrapped up between your legs. He's watching you, panting and with blown out pupils, as you sit up straight again and look down at him. Oh fuck he looks good... your knees are on either side of his head and he licks his lips as he brings his hands up to rest on the outside of your thighs. There was frustration in his low lidded eyes, but those eyes... Your pussy clenches at the sight and you don't even worry if he can feel it before you're saying, "You look real cute down there, Simon." The hands on your thighs twitch, "It's a real good look..." In the time it takes to blink, you're on your back looking up at Ghost. He says nothing. His face is red as he looms over you, but just as quickly as he flipped you, he's standing up and grumbling about needing a 5 minute break.
You're still laying on your back as you hear the gym door swing open and slam shut.
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Favorite place to have sex
𝖯𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: ot8 x fem reader!
𝗚𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗿𝗲: Smut
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: unprotected sex (don't do it), oral sex, eating cum, masturbation, creampies. (I apologize if I forgot something)
𝗦𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: The title is enough.
N/A: I'm in a block, so I'll leave this here and go slowly to try to distract myself. I hope you like it <3
masterlist II tag list
This content NOT is for minors!!!
This is merely entertainment, this does not represent any real person.
It is forbidden to copy or translate my work.
English NO is my first language.
Hongjoong
I think he's a guy who takes a bit of risk with places and likes the idea of putting himself out there a bit (only if you're okay with it), but don't get him wrong, he doesn't want to share you, he just likes to show off that you are his and that no one else can have you.
Maybe in a practice room or studio, but if he had to choose, he would prefer a place with good lighting so I could see all the gestures on your pretty face.
You couldn't take it anymore, your legs were shaking and your breathing was failing, but Hongjoong's hips kept crashing into yours over and over again. Your hands were shaking from trying to stand supported, the cold of the wall made your nipples stand on end and you could taste the blood in your mouth from clenching your teeth too much. You were nervous but Hongjoong's kisses on your neck made you forget that someone could walk in and see them.
"Come on honey, don't tell me you're scared?" You couldn't process a clear word and if you opened your mouth only moans would come out "let me hear you baby, let the world know how much you love me."
You squeezed your walls making him moan close to your ear and that made you open your mouth letting yourself be carried away by the pleasure in your body accompanying him while you felt his load running down your thighs. "I should have recorded that."
Seonghwa
Let's face it, we all know that this man is very clean and careful.
I think his favorite place would undoubtedly be a comfortable place that he knows: his room.
Although I also think that if he is very horny he would settle for doing it somewhere in the house.
Neither of them said anything but as soon as they closed the door of the house you let yourself be carried away by your emotions and wrapped your arms around his neck.
"I can't wait any longer Hwa…"
You kissed him without waiting for a response and moaned into her mouth when his hands ran down your waist to your breasts. He trailed kisses down your neck to the neckline of your dress and then undid the zipper.
"Me neither"
He took your body in his arms and carried you to the room. He gently set you down on the mattress and you watched him peel off his clothes as he watched your body. He caressed your thighs and spread your legs.
You moaned when you felt his tongue on your clit and you couldn't help but grab his hair while you moved your hips at the same time as his fingers.
Yunho
I feel like he is a big fan of doing it in the shower.
He likes the idea of water falling on you while your bodies are connected, it's like adding an extra sensation to the moment.
You entered silently without him noticing and hugged him from behind, laughing when he was surprised.
"Did you miss me?" He asked turning around making the hot water wet you.
You smiled without saying anything and got on your knees watching him smile, you knew he loved it here and you didn't waste any time when you put his cock in your mouth.
You felt his fingers tangle in your hair and you let him guide you as you continued the movements of your tongue over the tip of his cock. You savored everything and let the water wash away the rest as you stood up.
"Fuck me Yunho"
He kissed you, caressing your body, letting the water surround you as he connected your bodies and let himself be carried away by the sensations and the sound of your moans echoing with the drops on the floor.
Yeosang
He loves intimacy, but has a taste for the living room.
He likes to see how the lights on the screen illuminate your body and loves the way they can move freely.
You were ready for a quiet night, but deep down you knew this wouldn't be the case. After a while you lost track and could only focus on her hands caressing your hair and your back. You hugged him, burying your face in his neck and heard him laugh.
"It tickles me, don't do that"
"But I have cold"
With a quick movement he turned around, leaving you trapped between the couch and his body. He approached your lips and left you a short kiss.
"Should I do something?"
Whenever she spoke softer and more serious you were left speechless, but you nodded without taking your eyes off his eyes shining on him from the television.
You saw him smile before joining his lips and starting a slow kiss, you savored every part of you as if he had never done it and his hands slid down your abdomen to your legs.
"Don't play with me…" You moaned as his fingers ran over your core.
"Let me take you princess"
You couldn't deny him with that sweet smile and you nodded, letting yourself be guided by his fingers while you moaned his name. He kissed your neck and took delight in watching you writhe beneath him with just his fingers on him.
San
Game room.
He just loves to use his desk in creative ways.
He was so frustrated trying to beat the level that he lost count of how many times he failed. He took off his headphones and leaned back in the chair as he spun around trying not to hit the monitor.
"Are you ok?" you asked leaning against the door as you saw him sigh.
"It's just a stupid game" you approached smiling and stood between his legs to hug him.
"It's not your fault you're so bad, darling." He let out a forced laugh and stood back looking at your face.
"Do you think you could do better?" You nodded, knowing where this was going and took control when he offered it to you. You felt his hands on your hips making you sit on his lap while you began the game.
At first he let you try, but as you lost the games your clothes came off every time the game was restarted.
"My turn," he whispered when he finally undid your panties. He got up from his place making your body collide with the desk, he pulled down his pants and caressed your pussy with the tip of his cock "so wet"
You moaned as he sank into you again and again, holding onto the desk so you wouldn't trip. His teeth sank into your shoulder and he moaned your name until he released himself inside you.
"Let me play a little more," you said, knowing that this would be far from over.
"Do it," he offered you the control and laughed when he saw how your hands were shaking. "I won't stop until you win."
Mingi
Inside the car. I have nothing else to say.
He likes to have your body very close and to be able to feel your breath in his mouth while he caresses every part of your being.
You smiled when you saw the landscape, everything was very beautiful and you had spent an incredible afternoon, it's too bad that the rain ruined the picnic, but you still felt happy to be with him.
You were falling asleep watching the drops slide down the car window when you felt a hand on your thigh.
"You're shaking"
"Well, it's raining and wearing this dress wasn't a good choice."
"Take it off" you raised an eyebrow in surprise, he wasn't very direct with those things but you didn't expect him to tell you now.
"If you want to see me naked, why don't you take it from me?" In a split second his face turned red. That hadn't been his intention, he was just worried that you would catch a cold from wet clothes.
You, on the other hand, were already taking off your clothes and it was too late to say anything when you sat hanging on his legs. You held his face and smiled at him.
"I love you," he whispered, still not knowing what had happened.
"I know"
They put their lips together and let him take off your bra, he kissed your neck, bit your collarbones and sucked your nipples.
You moved your hips and heard him moan your name over and over again, but it wasn't fair that only you were naked.
They managed to undress and he let you take control as the windows fogged up. He loved having you close and he didn't mind having the small space, it was better for him if he had your breasts in his face.
The raindrops were a sweet background melody as they both let themselves be carried away.
Wooyoung
I know, you know. Places with mirrors.
He is fascinated by being able to see the angle of your body when he has you close, from above, below, from one side, from the other, everything. He only wants to see you.
You closed your eyes, concentrating on something other than his fingers on you, but one of his hands grabbed your face and forced you to look straight ahead.
"Look at you," he whispered in your ear from behind. You squeezed your eyelids but her fingers inside you stopped and you forced yourself to look at the mirror in front of you "that's it, look how slut you become with just my fingers."
"I can't take it anymore woo…"
You shifted on her chest when you felt him move again, your hands grabbed the sheets beneath her and you were fighting with her legs that were holding yours down so they wouldn't close.
"Please…"
"That's not the word" the tears stung your eyes but he didn't let you move your face, he wanted you to see how you came just with his fingers and how he did it again with his tongue and then how you did it again, one and again until you knew how beautiful you were in his eyes.
Jongho
Anywhere he can leave you sitting while he caresses your thighs and bites your neck, but his favorite place is in the kitchen.
Just like Mingi likes to have you close to her and loves to see your expressions up close to record them in her mind and repeat them later.
As soon as you saw him enter the house, you just greeted him and you turned around to try to concentrate on the food, but the image of him in that suit was running through your mind, imagining other things.
You didn't realize you had nothing else to cut and accidentally cut your finger, you grunted and abandoned the board to go rinse yourself off.
"Are you ok?" He asked, approaching from behind trying to see what had happened.
"Nothing happened"
"You're very clumsy" he wrapped his arms around your waist, you closed your eyes as you felt his breath on your neck.
"I have to… finish this"
"But you're thinking about me" he left a kiss on your neck and you bit your lips trying to resist his hands removing the apron you were wearing "I think today I want dessert first"
You let out a moan when he turned you around and before you could speak you already had his lips on you.
He dragged you to a corner of the kitchen and lifted your body easily, putting you on top of the surface.
You became intoxicated with his perfume and let him do whatever he wanted by biting your skin and leaving red marks all over your breasts.
You moaned his name as he pressed your bodies together and scratched his back as he caressed your thighs. You both let yourself go for a long time until you felt your body tremble.
"A little more…" He moaned trying to get closer as he ground his hips into you but when you felt his cock throb inside him you hooked your legs around his waist feeling the load inside him.
You stroked his hair and he kissed your shoulders as they recovered and then smiled.
"Now I'm hungry"
#ateez#ateez hard hours#ateez smut#kpop imagines#hongjoong#seonghwa#yunho#yeosang#choi san#mingi#wooyoung#choi jongho
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