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vladajwrites · 1 year

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Razor’s Edge

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four

Summary; Reader moves to Woodsboro for her senior year of high school. This story take place in the setting of the Scream 4 movie. This story is dedicated to all of the girls living through the current Rory Culkin revival. I love and see you. <3

Also available to be read on AO3 here

It's imperative for me to mention MAJOR trigger warnings for this story; blood, violence, sexual content, alcohol usage, and mentions of abusive situations and suicide. I will add and edit tw's as needed.

WC; 5851

Notes; thank you to everyone who has shown their support so far and taken the time to read my work, you are the ones who truly keep me motivated to write. much much love <33

(Not Beta Read)

You woke the next morning in the same t-shirt you had worn the day before, clinging to your skin from cold sweat. Your pants had been kicked off at some unknown point during the restless night of sleep you had. It was hard to recall the exact time you had eventually passed out on top of your bed.

Your phone was ringing somewhere underneath your pillow, causing your entire head to buzz. You groaned, wiping the sleep from your eyes. Irina’s name flashed on the screen as the caller on the other line. You answered the call, pressing the speaker button before dropping your phone on your chest.

“Hi honey, just wanted to let you know my flight made it into Sacramento.” Irina spoke. The passersby’s in the busy airport nearly muffled her voice.

You picked up your phone again, looking at the time. How late had you slept in? The digital clock read 11:03 am.

“Okay, I’m glad you made it safely.” You were certain your aunt could hear the rasp of your morning voice.

Irina hummed on the other line. “Just give me a call if you need anything while I’m away.”

“Will do, love you.” You replied, clearing your throat before responding.

“I love you too.” Irina replied before ending the call.

You stared up at your ceiling for a moment, thinking over the events of last night.

You couldn’t help but feel horrible for Charlie. Were he and his father close? Was his mother around? Did he have any siblings, relatives he was close with? So many questions seemed to fill your thoughts. Though, you knew they were questions that would more than likely go unanswered. It would be an awful choice, you decided, to bring up this suspected trauma unprompted.

Maybe you could try to divulge more information from your aunt. Based upon her reaction, she must have been relatively close to his father at some point in time. Remembering back to the somber expression your aunt wore last night, you decided against that idea as well.

You thought back on the relationship you had with your own father. He was an objectively miserable man. How would you have reacted, though, if you had lost him under the same circumstances? It would have surely still been devastating to some degree.

You’d keep your newfound information to yourself for the time being. It was the only reasonable option you could think of. You were certain Charlie wouldn’t want you to treat him any differently after finding out about what had happened.

The familiar buzz of your phone’s ringer pulled you momentarily from your running thoughts. You grabbed your phone, pushing yourself up into a sitting position on your bed, your legs crossed closely in front of you.

A message from an unsaved number appeared on the screen. You recognized it almost immediately as being Charlie’s from the group chat the night before. Only he hadn’t messaged both you and Robbie. It was only sent to you.

You sucked in a sharp breath as you unlocked your phone. The message read, “Hey, Robbie wanted me to let you know he woke up feeling sick and won’t be able to make it tonight.”

Your face fell into a frown as you read over the message again, your thumbs hovered over the keyboard as you thought up a response.

Another message from Charlie arrived moments later. “He said he’d take over any revisions if you and I would still be willing to finish the presentation tonight.”

The corner of your lips twitched up into a half smile. Now that you and Charlie were on seemingly good terms again, there shouldn’t be any issue with just the two of you working on this together.

Your fingers unknowingly found themselves twisted through your hair as you typed your response. “Works for me. Same time and place?”

Charlie sent his response almost instantly. “Yeah, sounds good.”

You had quite a bit of time to spare until 7pm rolled around. You went through your weekend routine as usual, cleaning up as you went throughout the home. By 6pm you had showered and pulled yourself mostly together. As you stood in front of your bathroom mirror, running your fingers through your drying hair, a new thought crept into your mind. You couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to run your fingers through Charlie’s mess of hair.

Your skin burned hot as you dropped your hands at your sides. You couldn’t bring yourself to look back up at your own reflection.

You couldn’t shake the thought as you made your way into the kitchen downstairs. You stared blankly into the pantry, your thoughts elsewhere.

Of course, you had always believed there was something charming about Charlie’s character. He was objectively good looking, at least you had thought so. But, thinking back on those few moments you shared alone with him on the porch the night before, there was just something- something about him was strikingly beautiful.

You bit at your lip, squinting your eyes as you pulled your thoughts together. You reminded yourself that the last thing you wanted to do at the moment was become wrapped up in unrequited crushes and feelings similar to the sort. It was just easier on your own. You had come to this conclusion years ago. It was understandably difficult to trust others, impossible to let anybody in.

Just as you were about to shut the pantry door, your eyes caught a glint in the back of the pantry, just behind a bag of sugar. You reached forward, grabbing the bottle in your hands.

You turned over a bottle of red wine, scanning the label quickly.

You hummed to yourself, setting the bottle on the kitchen counter. You stared it down for a moment, tapping your foot against the hardwood flooring.

You had no clue how long it had been stuffed away back there. Surely your aunt wouldn’t miss it too terribly. You glanced up at the clock above the stove which read 6:44pm. A small glass wouldn’t hurt anything, just something to dispel your faltering nerve.

You dug through the kitchen drawers, searching for a bottle opener. Just as you popped the cork, a knock at the front door rang through the home. ‘Shit.’ You steadied yourself, nearly knocking the bottle off the counter.

You thought you would have had at least a few more minutes to yourself. You quickly made your way to the front door, taking a deep breath before turning the handle.

Charlie stood in front of you. One hand buried in his front pocket, the other holding the strap of his backpack over his shoulder. You held the frame of the door, following his line of sight to your bare legs. You felt your face grow hot. You hadn’t realized just how much of your oversized t-shirt covered the small shorts you wore underneath.

You quickly pulled your t-shirt up, holding it against your stomach. “Shorts, promise.” God, why were you acting like this?

Charlie swallowed, looking up to meet your eyes. “Yeah, right.” There was a moment of quiet passed between the two of you. Charlie’s eyes drifted just past you into the entryway.

“Oh, right. Come in.” You pushed the door open further for him. He followed you inside, stepping beside you as you locked the door behind him.

He turned to head towards the living room. Without giving it much thought, you interjected. “We can go up to my room.” You motioned up the stairs, watching as Charlie stopped in his tracks.

“Your room? Your aunt won’t mind?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he kicked his shoes off.

“Oh no, she wouldn’t mind. She’s out of town this weekend, anyway.” You replied.

Charlie froze for a moment, looking up the stairs past you. He met your eyes again before responding. “Cool, yeah. Your room sounds great.”

You smile down at him, leading him up the staircase.

“Well, this is it,” you shrugged. “Just put your stuff anywhere you’d like.” You finished, motioning around the room.

You picked your bag off the ground and climbed into your bed, moving close to the wall. Charlie placed his stuff on the desk beside your bed before dropping himself into the adjoining chair. You began pulling out your things, watching as he intently did the same. He seemed so incredibly focused on the things in front of him. Neither of you spoke.

As you opened your laptop to access the shared group presentation, Charlie spoke up.

“Okay, I actually went ahead and got everything finished up earlier today.” Your breath got stuck in your chest as you met his eyes. “I figured we could just work on any revisions together.” You could tell from just below your line of sight that he was nervously messing with the corner of a piece of his notebook paper.

“Oh,” you weren’t sure what to say. “Well, thank you. You totally didn’t have to-”

“No, I know. I wanted to.” Charlie interrupted.

You nodded, sucking in your bottom lip. You scanned through the presentation. It really had been finished. It must have taken him hours.

There was an uncomfortable silence, making the air thick and heavy around you. You wished you could think of something else to say. An image of the opened bottle of red wine in the kitchen flashed in your mind.

“Would you like something to drink?” You asked so softly, you couldn’t have been certain you had actually asked it aloud.

Charlie’s eyes snapped up to meet you. Relief almost played itself across his expression. “Yes, please. If it’s not any trouble.” He rubbed his palms flat against the denim against his thighs.

You shot up, crawling out of bed. “Not at all.” You gave him your most reassuring smile.

You rushed downstairs, throwing open the cabinet where you knew Irina kept her best glasses. You grabbed two by the stem and held the bottle in the other hand.

You made your way carefully up the stairs, stopping in the doorway of your bedroom.

Charlie peered behind himself, eyes falling to the bottle in your hand.

“Oh,” he began, “I didn’t realize…”

You suddenly felt incredibly stupid. Did he even drink?

“I’m sorry, I should’ve clarified. I can go and grab some water or something-” You began turning on your heel.

Charlie was quick to rise to his feet. “No, no, this is great.” He carefully took the glasses and bottle from your hands. You inhaled sharply and nodded as his fingers brushed against your own.

You climbed back into bed, watching him fill each glass, respectively. You couldn’t help but notice the way his hand slightly shook as he passed you your glass.

You took a long drink, watching him do the same. It felt so warm in your throat. You sighed, sinking further into the bed. Charlie seemed to relax a bit in his spot as well.

A few minutes passed by in a much more comfortable quietness.

You couldn’t help but become distracted by the man sitting beside you. He just felt so far away. You wished he’d have sat on the bed next to you instead. Every once in a while, you’d feel him glance over at you as you reread the same passage over and over again, still for some reason, unable to comprehend what it said.

You peered up from your notes, watching Charlie slide a scribbled over sticky note that sat stuck to the base of your lamp.

You recognized it immediately, feeling yourself shift awkwardly. It was one of the lists you kept from film club, filled almost entirely with movies that Charlie had mentioned in passing.

“Are these…?” Charlie asked, eyes widening as he made his way down the list.

You rolled over onto your stomach, reaching over to pull the list from Charlie’s hands.

“Mhm,” you nodded. “I’ve almost gotten myself caught up.” You tried your best to conceal the shyness you felt at being found out.

Your heart picked up quickly as he looked you over. There was something about his expression that felt so heavy, it was an unfamiliar sight.

“What’s next on your list?” He asked, picking up the glass you had set down and refilling it alongside his own.

You read over the scratched out mess of your handwriting. “Dawn of the Dead, but the 1978 version. Not the remake, of course.”

A smirk spread across Charlie’s lip, as if he’d taught you well. He held up your glass to take from him. You took it from him slowly, feigning to be worried about spilling a single drop. By this point, your head was already beginning to feel fuzzy. It was a comfortable warmth.

You slipped the note into your backpack, trying to focus once again on the presentation in front of you. It was useless.

Before giving it much thought, you spoke up, “You know, I’ve already rented it.”

Robbie could manage the revisions on his own, right?

“Oh yeah?” Charlie asked, turning in his chair to face you.

“Yeah,” you began, trying to convince yourself that this next question would actually be a good idea. “Would you want to watch it with me?”

“Tonight?” Charlie’s hands were back against the top of his thighs. His eyes flashed between you and the T.V. that was mounted above your dresser on the opposite side of your bedroom.

“If that would be okay with you, I’m honestly not getting much work done over here.” You replied, getting up from the bed.

Charlie cleared his throat before answering. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds cool.”

You smiled over your shoulder at him as you made your way over the DVD player that sat on top of your dresser.

You messed with the CD case, popping it open and inserting the disk. You picked up the remote, waiting until the title screen flashed on the T.V. above you. You noticed the top drawer of the dresser was pulled halfway open; you slid it closed, scolding yourself. It contained the clothing you’d dread any guest seeing. You swore you were always so careful about keeping these things in order.

You flipped your bedroom lights off, dimming the lamp that sat on the desk beside Charlie before finding your place back in bed.

You pressed play, finishing the last of the wine in your glass, before setting the remote and glass on the desk beside you.

A few moments passed by uninterrupted. You looked over at Charlie. He was sitting so unbelievably stiff in the chair, it just seemed so uncomfortable.

“Charlie,” you called out to him. He snapped his eyes to meet your own. “You don’t have to watch the entire movie from my desk.” You half laughed.

He stood quickly, nearly knocking things about your desk. You tried your best to hide your smile as he laid down on top of the mattress; the bed dipped under his weight.

You both kept a fair amount of distance between each other. The movie was well underway. However, you found yourself becoming increasingly more interested in the uneven way Charlie’s chest rose and fell with each breath than what was happening on the screen.

You wished you could just reach over and touch him, move the hair out of his eyes, trace your finger over the arch of his nose.

You could barely take notice of the way your vision had fixated on him as your head grew blurred and warm.

You wished he’d turn and face you, say something. He seemed to be frozen in place, legs and arms held in a way that’d rival a statue. His face was fixated on the T.V., as if he were too nervous to move even an inch. It was so warm. The room felt so warm.

You could barely catch the small glimpses he’d spare towards you from his peripherals. You wish he’d just reach over- your eyes trailed down to his hands resting on his stomach, watching the veins in them roll as his finger flexed and twitched.

You reached up, placing a hand against your face. Your skin was cold to the touch. Why did everything feel so warm?

Your clothing suddenly felt increasingly more suffocating. You were growing desperate for some form of relief. You pulled at the collar of your shirt. Your shorts felt so tight, nearly restricting. You couldn’t explain why you felt so hot. The t-shirt you had on could almost be a dress, anyway, right?

You climbed over Charlie, one hand on either side of his chest. You steadied yourself on the ground, your head thoroughly swimming. You tried your very best to focus forward on the movie. You unbuttoned the waist of your shorts, carefully stepping out of them.

You heard a heavy sigh from behind you; the sound made the hair on your skin raise.

“I’m sorry, moving out of the way. Promise.” You laughed, turning back to face Charlie.

You slid into the bed, finding your spot in the small space between Charlie and the edge of the mattress. Opting not to try to climb over him again in your current state.

Charlie froze in place beside you as you shifted on to your side, trying to find the most comfortable spot between him and the screen. He was warm, so warm. You had just felt as though you were burning up moments ago, but the thought of him moving any further away made your body ache. His warmth was soothing.

You could feel Charlie’s uncertainty as he began to shift away from you in the bed, providing you with more space presumably.

You couldn’t explain why you did what you did next. You reacted without giving it much thought at all. You reached behind you, pulling Charlie’s furthest hand towards you until it rested on top of your hair.

The new position forced him to shift in bed beside you until he was lying on his side as well. His hand flexed under your touch. You wished you could pull him closer.

His fingers stretched throughout your hair and you sighed, feeling your back sink closer to his chest. You could nearly feel his heart pounding against you. Your hand fell to rest on your side.

His other hand shifted, moving into a more comfortable position below your neck. “Is this okay?” He whispered right behind your ear. The feeling of his cool breath sent chills up your spine. You nodded, the words lost from you.

You reached up, tracing the veins wove through his forearm. His fist closed and flexed at your touch. The film, just as the presentation, was now lost on you.

It was just him beside you. The way he smelt, his fingers carefully sliding through your hair and across your cheek, the unsteady beat of his heart against your back. You found yourself sinking further and further into his arms. A heavy sigh slipped from your lips as he pulled through the mess of your hair.

At the sound of your voice, Charlie shifted his weight, wrapping his arm under your neck further to pull you around to face him.

You both seemed surprised at his sudden movement. You were now face to face, just inches apart. The movie murmured faintly off somewhere in the distance.

Even in the dark, his blue eyes were so incredibly clear. You reached up, brushing the hair that had fallen in front of his face away. His eyes flitted between your own eyes and lips. You had never noticed before just how full his own lips were. His lips were tinted a deep red from the cherry wine you had shared. You couldn’t help but imagine how sweet he’d taste.

If you’d just move a bit closer-

Both of his large hands wrapped throughout your hair again in near desperation.

You returned the gesture, pushing your thigh through the middle of his own. Lips crashed against one another.

It was unlike anything you had experienced before. This brash kiss fell into a soft rhythm, gentle exploration as you rocked into one another.

It didn’t take long until the slow movements devolved into a harsh quick pace as you both grew more comfortable in each other’s arms. There was an air of near violence as your tongues wrapped around each other.

You needed more of him, needed to be impossibly closer in any way you could. Sensing this, Charlie wrapped his arms around you, pulling you on top to straddle his waist.

You sat back, smiling down at him as he unintentionally bucked his hips up closer to you. It was wonderful seeing the state he was in. You knew you were in just about the same shape.

You were quick to meet his lips again. He held you steadily against himself, continuing to rock himself against you.

Your hands hazily fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. You needed to feel more of his skin against you. The barrier of clothing that separated you from him made you miserable.

Once the last button was popped, he sat up in bed. Pulling you up with him, his arm clung around your waist. He shrugged the shirt off of himself, throwing it on the ground. You were quick to bring your lips to his again, running your hands up his now bare stomach. He was impossibly toned, felt hard to the touch.

“Fuck.” He groaned against your lips as your hips rolled against him. You could feel him getting hard below you. A blush crept up your skin. The sound of his voice like this built up an indiscernible feeling inside of you. You wanted to hear him make that sound again.

His hands were quick to find themselves under your t-shirt, his thumb brushed against the outer lace of your bra. He reached behind you, fumbling with the clasp. You leaned your head against his, smiling softly as he gazed at you in wonder.

You reached behind yourself, helping him with his work uncertain work. You slid the bra off yourself, throwing it next to Charlie’s discarded shirt. You grabbed the hem of your t-shirt and pulled it swiftly over your head.

You could hear Charlie’s breath audibly stuck in his throat as his eyes darted wildly across your body. The full weight of this situation nearly hit you at once. You brought your arms shyly across your chest. You had never been in front of a man this way.

You could barely meet his eyes. He was quick to pull you back in to kiss him. “God, you’re so fucking perfect.” He whispered against you as he kissed your forehead. Your arms melted down to your side as his hands traced the curve of your waist.

You could feel his hands shake as he cupped your breasts, his fingers softly grazed against your nipples. You sighed, pulling him closer to you. That frenzied feeling returned in full force.

You needed impossibly more of him. He was quick to act, laying you back down on the bed. He hovered over you, eyes burning into your nearly naked body in front of him.

His right hand reached down, fumbling with his buckle. You watched intently as his hand slipped underneath the waistband of his boxers to adjust himself. Your eyes fluttered back as you traced your fingers mindlessly over the defined v-line that led further down his hips. He shook at your touch.

His lips found themselves trailing kisses down your neck and chest. He was so gentle with you. Painfully gentle. Your hands wove through his hair, arching up into him as his pace quickened. He slid further down the bed, wrapping his arms around both of your legs, holding them open to kiss down your thighs.

You were practically already coming undone below him. He’d come so close to the spot you wanted him to be. Every time he’d pull back away, you’d whine in frustration. He’d hum back against you in response.

You couldn’t handle the pressure building up inside you anymore. Your right hand traced slowly underneath the lace of your panties. You stopped just before slipping through your folds, looking up to meet Charlie’s eyes. His expression seemed nearly pained, completely desperate.

“I don’t know- I’ve never…” Charlie could barely get the words out from between his lips. Even in the dim lighting, you could tell he was flustered, embarrassed at his own lack of experience. It was reassuring to you though, you had practically no experience with all of this either. It was sweet, how shy he seemed at that moment.

“It’s okay. I’ll show you.” You gave him a reassuring smile before carefully intertwining your fingers with his own. He followed suit, hooking his free hand around your panties before sliding them off you. Your desperation for him drowned out any insecurity you could have possibly felt with him above you in that state you were in.

You brought his fingers against you, sighing into him as he carefully let you guide him in slow circles against your clit. The knot deep inside you only grew as he became increasingly comfortable. Your hands dropped to his shoulders as he became familiar with the pace and direction you wanted.

His free arm wrapped around your back, gripping your sides with bruising force as you started to writhe below him. His head dipped beside your ear, “Please, please let me taste you.” He practically begged.

You could only nod, sucking in a sharp breath as his fingers moved faster, losing their rhythm.

He was quick to shift his weight as he sat up for a moment, pulling off his constricting jeans and socks, leaving him nearly entirely exposed. You groaned at the sight of him in front of you. He was so damningly beautiful. Your vision flitted down to the large impression in his boxers, your eyes widened at the size of him.

Before you could process this discovery, he was kneeling on the bed in front of you again. One arm snaked around your thigh as you propped yourself on your elbows to watch him make his way through his.

He kissed just above your clit, eyes looking up at you for approval.

“Please Charlie,” you urged him on.

His lips were against your most sensitive spot immediately. You cried out, screwing your eyes shut. Nothing had ever been so perfect as this. He kissed against you a few more times before deciding to explore you with his tongue, “Fuck, it’s so good.” He groaned against you, speaking more to himself than you.

The vibration of his deepening voice sent shockwaves throughout your body. Your eyes and legs involuntarily worked to screw shut. Charlie acted quick, pushing your thighs back apart with a painful grip. You were sure you’d have his finger prints bruised into your skin the next morning. ‘Good’ you thought to yourself.

You could tell he was trying his best to emulate the motion you had shown him with your fingers with his tongue. It was maddening, completely perfect.

“Fuck baby, you’re doing so well.” The words spilled mindlessly out of you. He groaned as you rolled your hips against him. Your eyes trailed down his chest. His right hand found its way inside his boxers. He was palming at himself as if he were in pain. You wanted to be the one to relieve him.

The sight of him pleasing himself as he worked you over was enough to nearly send you crashing blindly over the edge. You could barely get the next words out of you, “Don’t, don’t touch yourself.” You were trying to keep it all together as he whined against you, following your demands.

“Fuck Charlie, I’m going to…” you said between broken moans.

He pulled away for a moment, his entire expression darkened. It could’ve easily been terrifying in any other context, you noted to yourself. The fingers that had just been wrapped around your thigh found themselves quickly against your entrance. Your eyes widened as you connected with his gaze, realizing his intentions. You’d do anything to have him inside of you.

He kissed your lips. You sucked the taste of yourself off of him, dragging his bottom lip between your teeth. His middle and ring dove forward inside of you. His other hand came up quickly to muffle your screams.

“Shit, you’re so tight.” His chest shuddered at his own words. A tear rolled down your face as he talked you through it. “So wet for me.”

His free hand pressed down against your lower stomach. The additional pressure was the last push you needed. Your whole nervous system seemed to snap as his fingers fucked you through your high. You could barely hear his praise as your ears rang out with incredulous force. You were sobbing out his name, vision white and spotted at the blinding pleasure.

He pulled out of you carefully, slowly letting you come back to yourself for a moment before diving his tongue back against you.

You writhed up against the footboard. It was too much, too overstimulating. Your hands pulled at his hair to push him away. He grabbed both your wrists with one hand, holding you in place below him. You were babbling, stuck between ‘It’s too much’ and ‘please don’t stop.’

Within a matter of moments, you were coming undone again against his face. Your mind was shattered, your body a wreck under his touch.

He fell back against the headboard, catching his breath as he watched you ride out your high.

As soon as you could partially catch your breath again, you sat up, watching him shift uncomfortably from his pressing erection.

It was his turn to be taken care of. You crawled your way up to rest between his thighs. His eyes darted across your face, as if he were trying to read your thoughts.

You couldn’t hide your smile as you leaned into him. You kissed him slowly, licking across his lips. Your lips slowly made their way down his chest as your fingers grazed across the fabric against his cock. He whimpered above you at the pressure. The sound made your stomach clench. You’d give anything to hear it again.

He slid further down the bed as your lips trailed kisses and shallow bites marks further down his stomach.

Once you could tell he was in a more comfortable position, you hooked your fingers into the waistline of boxers. He lifted his hips, helping you pull them down his thighs before discarding them on the ground below.

You sat back on your heels, mouth agape at the sight in front of you. You could do little to hide your shock at the uncovered size of him.

You glanced up at him, willing yourself to put on a face that feigned at least a hint of experience. He smirked down at you, as if he could tell exactly what thoughts were passing through your mind.

“You don’t have to…” he muttered, eyes still full of adoration for you.

Before giving him the opportunity to finish his sentence, you wrapped your fingers against the base of his cock. You could feel him pulse under your touch. His next words were stuck and gone in his chest.

You held his gaze as your hand carefully twisted its way up to the tip of his cock. You gathered his precum on your fingers and circled it around the length of him. His mouth fell open as his stomach flexed under you.

“Does that feel good?” You asked softly.

He bit his lip, nodding his head yes. You were quick to pick up your pace at his approval.

His hands were desperate, switching between grabbing at the bedsheets and headboard and any of your skin he could get ahold of. Stunning whimpers and pleas spilled out of him as you found the motion and speed he needed.

You pulled away for a moment, moving yourself further down the bed. You held him still in one hand again as you kissed a trail down from his navel. Your eyes met with his as your lips hovered above the tip of his cock. You gathered spit on the tip of your tongue and let it fall slowly onto him. He cursed a string of expletives, his eyes rolling back into his head as you took him into your mouth.

You thought carefully over each motion, keeping your teeth back, hollowing out your cheeks. The sensation was entirely new, but the way he began to convulse below you let you know you were doing something right. You wanted nothing more than to make him feel the same way he had made you.

His hands wrapped almost painfully through your hair as he bucked further and further down your throat. You tried your best to relax, allowing him to take the space he wanted.

Your throat burned, tears and spit covered your face and chest. You wouldn’t have possibly wanted it any other way.

You were both becoming increasingly sloppy and starved in your movements. His right hand grabbed at your throat, pulling your face up to meet his eyes. You stilled, letting him fuck your throat as he pleased. It didn’t take long before his movements stilled and stuttered.

You felt him pulse in your mouth; you were flooded with his release, warmth coated your throat and tongue. The taste and sight above you made your entire body shudder. It was heavenly. You felt truly blessed to be the cause of it all. You could vaguely make out your name being spilled from between his lips.

His chest heaved as you carefully pulled away from him, his cock falling against his stomach.

You caught his eyes again, making a show to swallow what he had given to you. He pulled you into himself, kissing all over your face until you were laughing in his arms.

You dropped into the bed beside him, watching him shift his weight and stand. He scanned the room before spotting the bath towel that hung beside your bedroom door. He made quick work of cleaning the two of you up, tracing kisses across you as he did so.

Your nerves were all shot. Your entire being was exhausted and heavy.

He dropped the towel next to the discarded pile of clothing that had accumulated on your bedroom floor. Charlie slid back in bed beside you, lifting the disheveled duvet over you both. He pulled you up onto his chest. You sighed as he swept the hair out of your face.

You were in a complete haze, halfway into a deep sleep.

“Thank you,” Charlie whispered above you.

You hummed, reaching up to kiss under his jaw. “Thank you.” You replied, pulling a sore a leg over his thighs, resting your head back down against him.

The movie’s title screen music played on repeat in the background; you couldn’t be the least bit bothered to turn it off.

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morrieandlicky · 1 year

Text

Edward Carpenter's full response letter to E.M. Forster after reading Maurice in 1914.

(The images of the letter can be found here at King's College's archive. Below is my transcription followed by photocopies of the letter. )

PS: 1) "MS" is the abbreviation for "manuscript".

23 Aug. [1914?]

My dear & blessed E.M.,

(I wish you had a name. Why do you always hide behind initials? What do your friends call you? My name is Edward, or ‘chips’!)

I have read your ‘Maurice’ after all, and am very much pleased with it. I don’t always like your rather hesitating tantalizing impressionist style - though it has subtleties - but I think the story has many fine points. You succeed in joining the atmosphere with the various characters, and there are plenty of happenings which is a good thing. Maurice’s love affairs are all interesting, and I have a mind to read them again, if I can find time - so I won’t send the MS back for a day or two. I am so glad you end up on a major chord. I was so afraid you were going to let Scudder go at the last - but you saved him and saved the story, because the end though improbable is not impossible and is the one bit of real romance - which those who understand will love.

I wish I could write more, but I am devoured just now by innumerable things. I expect to be in and about London from the 1st to 8th Sep. - so give me a cue to see you.

Your Edward C.

Transcription of vertical writings on the second page of the letter:

I am sending my birthday reply to the papers on Sep. 1 with a lot about the war in it.

Only a small part of the letter has been transcribed then included in reviews, or different Maurice editions. Which is why I wanted to transcribe the whole response from the real-life Maurice to the author of fictional Maurice after he read Maurice. The entirety is far more interesting.

Below: Edward Carpenter in 1886 and 1897.

Some contexts: based on Forster's diaries, Maurice was first finished in June/July, 1914, so Carpenter did read the first complete MS—with or without the epilogue is unclear since there's no solid proof for when the epilogue was written (though it appeared in the novel by February 1915 at the latest.)

However, since Carpenter said he liked the happy ending he read (and fun fact: the first complete MS which he read actually had a fairly different ending between Maurice and Alec than the published version's), we know that even from the first draft, Forster remained unwavering about how a happy ending is imperative.

More contexts: according to a letter from Forster to a friend, he thought Carpenter was "too unliterary to be helpful"—meaning Carpenter probably wasn't much interested in reading literature. And Carpenter sort of confirmed that in writing "I read your 'Maurice' after all", implying he was indeed reluctant to read at first.

Still, it made absolute sense for Forster to send the story back to the man who, in a manner of speaking, held the copyright of Maurice in flesh before Forster even finished it.

So the question is: did Carpenter know that Maurice was inspired by him and his lover George Merrill? Did he know that he was the real-life Maurice and Merrill was the real-life Alec? Perhaps that was why he was reluctant to read the novel at first?

#edward carpenter #em forster maurice #maurice em forster #em forster #edward morgan forster #maurice #maurice 1987 #maurice hall #maurice 1914 #maurice 1971 #alec scudder #george merrill #clive durham #1914 #1910s

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azureseacloud · 3 months

Text

Hidden Messages

Ghost (band)

Part 4

Dewdrop x Reader

Words: 2,727

Warnings: swearing

I’m back! Sorry about the delay, it’s been like almost two months 🫣

Anyway I hope you all enjoy, and as always my askbox is open so if you want to request or even just chat please do! :)

If you would like to be added to the taglist, let me know <3

Tags: @gummy-dummy

@ghoulettess

@viylikescats

You hummed absentmindedly, tapping a pen against your cheek. You were sitting at your desk, working your way through the last changes Sister Imperator had wanted you to make. You’d already sent off the plans for accomodation and venue bookings, choosing to forgo skimming over them to save time. You’d finished them last night anyway.

Cirrus was on your bed, her beautiful form lounging as she idly looked through her phone. She was stretched out, leaning her back against the headboard with one leg crossed over the other.

Another notification popped through on your phone and you looked down to see it was from Cirrus again. You sighed, throwing the phone onto the foot of the bed, away from your reach before it distracted you.

“Really, Cirrus?” You were pretty sure the ghoulette chuckled. She held up her hands in mock surrender.

“You don’t have to check it now. Just think of it as a little reward after you’ve finished your work.” By her wicked smile you knew it was going to be more videos of Dewdrop. Satan below, why had you ever told Cirrus about him?

“You are almost done, right honey?” Cirrus asked hopefully. When she’d first come in you’d been laying on your bed typing. She’d joined you, cuddling into you and rubbing calming circles into your back to the point you had almost fallen asleep. After that you had rolled away, choosing to sit at your desk to finish the last of the documents.

It was almost 10pm now and you had almost finished all of the work that you were going to do tomorrow. Which meant you would have a clear schedule to stay at practice for the whole day, if you wanted to.

“I’ve got a few more things left, then I’ll be done.” Cirrus looked pleased at that. You knew she was waiting for you to join her. It wasn’t unusual for the ghoulette to sleep with you on the nights you didn’t spend in the ghoul quarters. You also had a feeling this had something to do with Dewdrop stealing you from her arms last night.

Cirrus had already filled you in on what had happened during the second half of the rehearsal. Dew had apparently been even more hyper after his interaction with you, to the point that Copia had needed to tell him off numerous times, apparently more than he usually did.

You still couldn’t believe it, and you could already feel yourself starting to hope. What if he did like you—what if Cirrus was right?

Even though you knew you should probably kill that hope until you had solid evidence, you didn’t have the heart to. It had been so long since you’d felt this way about someone.

Your mind kept wandering to how his hands had felt on your body, the warmth that radiated from him, the way he’d called you dearest in that honey-smooth tone. You were going to see him again tomorrow—and if Cirrus was right then he would be showing off for you.

You were well aware of the types of moves that Dew normally employed—having seen more than enough videos. But that was completely different to seeing it in person, let alone as his targeted audience.

You’d been to rituals hosted at the abbey, but only a few. You’d ended up at the very back for both of them, not wanting to fight the sisters for a closer space. Even with the limited view, you’d still been able to watch and admire the ghouls as they performed. Papa had been excellent as well—but your eyes had been elsewhere.

Namely on the lead guitarist. Dew’s energy had been breathtaking, the way he threw himself into each song, drawing the attention of the crowd and feeding off it. He knew exactly what to do to make the siblings scream. You’d wanted to be apart of that front row so badly—wanted to have his full attention on you as he played.

It seemed you were going to get the wish, if Cirrus was to be believed. It left a small flutter of nerves every time you thought of it.

Cirrus sat up, her head turning toward the door. You watched carefully—you’d picked up on some of the ghoul’s behaviours, Cirrus’s especially. By the way she tilted her head, you could tell that she heard something or someone nearby.

An amused smile slipped onto her lips as she watched the door.

You waved a hand and her masked face turned to you. “Who?” You mouthed, guessing that it was a ghoul that she had heard. Surely it wasn’t him…

Dew, she mouthed back, blowing you a teasing kiss.

Of course it was.

Your head snapped over to the door as it opened, revealing the fire ghoul, who hadn’t even bothered to knock. That was typical Dew though.

His gaze landed on you first—giving you a little nod in greeting—then flicked to Cirrus.

“Hey Dew, is everything okay?” You asked as you watched the ghoul. His hand gripped the door and he stared at the ghoulette behind you as she sent a delicate wave back at him.

“Copia needs to speak with Cirrus,” he answered, leaning on the doorway in a way that had you staring.

“What does Papa need to speak to me about?” Cirrus sounded uninterested.

Dewdrop shrugged. “Go find out.”

“Tell him I’m busy. It can wait until tomorrow.” Cirrus nodded over at you as you tore your eyes off the fire ghoul.

“He said it’s urgent, Cirrus.” Dew’s gaze flipped to you, his voice taking on a smoother tone. “Don’t worry, I can keep them company.”

“You should probably go Cirrus,” you added, trying to ignore the excited trepidation at the thought of spending more time alone with Dewdrop. “I’ll still be here when you get back.”

Cirrus sighed, standing gracefully. She let her fingers brush lightly over the back of your neck as she walked past.

“It’s not that I’m worried about,” she said as she passed the fire ghoul, giving him a warning look.

“Is it because my company is better than yours?” Dew sounded amused, still leaning against the door.

Cirrus laughed. “Oh please. I’m the favourite, aren’t I sweetheart?” She nodded her head behind Dew as they both awaited your answer.

“I don’t have favourites,” you said hesitantly, watching Cirrus point at herself. “But if I had to choose, Cirrus is better,” you added, slyly looking at Dew. Cirrus made a heart with her hands at your response, while the fire ghoul crossed his arms, scoffing.

“Don’t have too much fun,” Cirrus said with a teasing wink to you. “And you better be finished all that work when I get back.”

You gave her a little wave as she left. Dewdrop took a step into the room, closing the door softly.

It was his first time in your room—only Cirrus and the ghoulettes had been in here, as well as Rain on one occasion. It wasn’t that you didn’t want them here—rather that you spent most of your time in the ghoul quarters that it was practically home now. This room was more of a storage place where you kept all your belongings and work-related items. You only really stayed in it when you needed a break from the chaos—which was very rarely.

Dew seemed to be taking in your room, walking around as he scanned through your items, though there weren’t that many. He lingered at the small shelf housing your favourite books, running a finger delicately across their spines.

After ensuring he wasn’t up to anything that couldn’t be classed as strangely typical ghoul behaviour, you forced your attention back to the screen.

There was one more document left and then you could call it a night, and you’d have an entirely free day tomorrow to admire the fire ghoul. It was harder than it should have been to ignore him though. It was like your eyes were drawn to him, and you had to keep fighting the urge to look back at him.

You were typing the last part of the document when you suddenly became aware of his presence behind you. You stilled, catching his reflection on the screen.

Dew placed his hands on the desk at either side of you, his arms caging you in as he leant over you. His breath touched your right shoulder as he took in the screen.

“Someone’s eager to watch me play tomorrow,” he whispered smugly. You huffed, unlocking your fingers and typing again, furiously telling yourself to calm down.

“From what Cirrus told me, you’re the one who can’t wait to show off. How many times did you get told off by Copia today?”

Dew laughed lowly, resting his head in the crook of your shoulder.

“You’ve been talking about me, dearest sibling?” he muttered, a teasing tone in his voice. “Seems you just can’t get me out of your head.”

“I’m surprised you fit through the door with that ego. Then again, you are pretty short,” you teased back, hearing a quiet hiss in response.

Dew burrowed his face against your shoulder, his hands running along your arms. The movement jostled your hands as you were typing, turning the next word into a jumble of random letters. You quickly pressed the back button, acutely aware of the way his hands glided smoothly over your skin and the weight on your shoulder.

“Do you mind?”

“You don’t smell like me anymore,” he murmured, sounding disappointed.

Ah. So that’s why Cirrus had given you a whole heap of hugs, and why she had been so eager to cuddle tonight, especially after you’d showered earlier. You wondered if it was to reinforce her claim on you, or an attempt to piss Dew off.

“Well I’m trying to type here.”

“Don’t care. This is what you get for calling me fucking short.”

You sighed dramatically, reaching a hand up to push his head away. He grabbed at your arm, pinning it to the desk with a sound of amusement.

You raised an eyebrow at his reflection on the screen.

“Really?” You flexed your trapped hand, trying to loosen his grip. “Let me go little gremlin, I’m trying to finish this work so I can go watch you practise. You know, like you so desperately want me to.”

Dew lifted his head, watching you through the reflection. He was silent for a moment as you held his gaze.

“How much longer until you’re finished?”

“About five minutes. And don’t tell me that’s too long to wait,” you added, well aware that the fire ghoul was known to be exceptionally impatient.

He huffed.

“Fine,” Dew said as he withdrew, trailing his fingers across your shoulders then your neck the way Cirrus had earlier. He lowered his mouth to your ear. “Five minutes.”

You relaxed as he threw himself on your bed, the phantom tingle of his breath on your ear lingering. Five minutes—then what? Was he wanting to sleep here tonight as well? How long was Cirrus going to take?

You mentally cursed the air ghoulette for leaving you in this situation. You hoped she would be back soon—although you were definitely enjoying Dew’s attention. Maybe he really did...

You would think about that later.

It was silent for a few minutes, the tapping of your keys the only sound. You resisted the urge to check what the ghoul was up to—once you did you knew he would try to distract you again, and you only had two more minutes.

“Has Cirrus been sending you more porn?” You startled, twisting your head to see he was holding your phone. Fuck.

“No she has not.” You tensed—you knew he shouldn’t be able to get into your phone, but you still felt a small fear curling in your stomach at the thought of him somehow seeing your conversations with Cirrus. The ones that were mostly about him.

“Then what has she been sending you?” He mocked a gasp. “Not her own videos?”

You stood, closing your laptop. It’s not like you were going to get anything else done anyway.

“Give me my phone back Dewdrop.”

He twisted around so he could see you, the balaclava under his mask slipping enough to give you a glimpse of a toothy smile.

“Make me.”

You narrowed your eyes, taking in the ghoul on your bed. He stared back at you, lifting his chin slightly in a challenge.

At that moment, the door opened, Cirrus returning from her meeting with Papa.

She glanced between the two of you, bracing her hands on her hips. You shot her a look of relief, gesturing towards Dewdrop.

“Can you help me with this?”

Dew snorted, rolling onto his stomach to face you, the phone still in his hands as he propped himself up on his elbows.

“Told you my company was better,” he said to Cirrus.

“I can see that.” The ghoulette sounded amused. “Now get out of my spot or I’ll tell Mountain it was you who broke his drums last week.”

Dew scowled back. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Cirrus tilted her head, a knowing smile breaking across her lips.

“It would be very unfortunate if Sister Imperator was to also somehow find out about what you did to that shelf of rare books in the library—“

“Fucking okay!” Dew sighed, languidly stretching before rolling reluctantly off the bed.

You watched as he stepped around the bed, wondering just how much blackmail Cirrus had on each of the ghouls. Maybe she was on to something—you made a mental note to hold on to any future information.

Dew stopped in front of you, holding out your phone. You hesitantly reached out for it, expecting a trick of some sort.

Instead, he let you take it, although he made sure to brush his fingers against yours.

“See you at rehearsals tomorrow.” He leaned in, whispering cockily. “I know you won’t be able to take your eyes off me.”

You gave him a small smirk, though your heart was racing. “We’ll see.”

He hummed in response, before Cirrus grabbed him by the arm and pushed him out of the room. She shut the door, cutting him off mid-curse.

You raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

“Don’t tell me you wanted him to stay,” she said, mocking disbelief with a hand to her chest. You rolled your eyes playfully.

“And if I did?” A smile ghosted your lips at the thought of Dew staying—but you also needed to actually sleep, and that wasn’t going to happen with him around.

Cirrus sighed, shaking her head. “Do you believe me now? You definitely have a chance with him.”

You felt red creeping across your cheeks. You really were starting to think that it was possible, but a part of you still held back a little. Before your thoughts could begin to drown you, Cirrus grabbed your hand and pulled you down towards the bed. You flipped your phone onto the bedside table—those videos could wait until the morning.

Cirrus pulled you in close, nuzzling into your shoulder as you wrapped your arms around her. She flicked off the light with her tail, plunging the room into darkness.

“What did Copia want?” You asked quietly as the two of you settled into a comfortable position.

“He wanted to check everything still fit for the upcoming performances, and that there weren’t any adjustments that needed to be made last minute.”

You nodded against her shoulder. That sounded like Copia—he was always remembering something he had forgotten right at the last minute. You thought fittings would have been sorted a few weeks ago.

“Annnd,” Cirrus dragged out the word, a hint of excitement in her voice, “we’re all getting capes.”

Capes? “No way. That’s going to be awesome!”

She hummed in agreement. “They look fabulous too.” You chuckled.

“I’m sure you’ll look ravishing.”

“I always do,” she purred. “Everyone else will have one too, even your little fire ghoul.”

Dewdrop with a cape? Fuck, you couldn’t wait to see that. Wait—

“He’s not my little fire ghoul.” You rolled over a little, peering at her through the darkness.

Cirrus laughed quietly, and you scowled.“He’s not.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

#ghost band #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #nameless ghouls x reader #dewdrop ghost #cirrus ghoulette #cirrus ghost

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sailortongue · 6 months

Text

As YOU Wish

pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

wc: 1.1k

summary: on the search for a particular book, you have a brief encounter with the owner of a local bookstore. But perhaps the ex-FBI agent also finds himself in search of something more after meeting you

cw: based on the netflix show You so Spencer is a red flag here

an: my cousin wrote the summary and it sounds so cute i had half a mind to rewrite this to just be an innocent meet cute

--------

The bell above the door chimed, signaling to Spencer that a customer had arrived—the first of the day, actually. He glanced up from the register to see a young woman about his age enter. Beautiful, he thought. He was taking in every aspect of your appearance as quickly as he could. The way you styled your hair, the color of your eyes, the worn-out pair of Converse that rivaled his own pair. He shook his head once to clear his thoughts, not wanting to embarrass himself before he even had the chance to ask for your name.

He plastered a smile on his face and greeted you with a “good morning”.

“Good morning,” you said, returning the smile.

Spencer watched you roam around the store, seemingly browsing more than looking for anything in particular. He noticed the way you gently ran your fingers over the spines of some of the books before pulling them from the shelves to read their summaries. Definitely cherishes her books. But no matter what book you pulled, it was always returned to its place. Spencer began taking notice of the way your eyes roved the many titles available, a small frown becoming more and more prominent the more you looked. Maybe you are looking for something. He voiced his thoughts aloud and called out, “Can I help you find anything?”

You turned to face the admittedly very handsome employee. The smile you gave him this time was one of embarrassment, feeling unreasonably foolish that he’d noticed you struggling to find what you were looking for. From Spencer’s point of view though, that embarrassment looked an awful lot like shyness, which was easily interpreted as interest. Hopefully as much as he had in you.

“Yes, please. I’m trying to find The Princess Bride,” you answered.

Spencer thought about it for a moment, trying to remember if it was in the fantasy, adventure, or romance section. “It is . . .” he started, dragging out the last syllable as he walked farther into the shelves with you following close behind. “right here,” he finished, gesturing to the book in question.

“Thank you!” you exclaimed excitedly. Just before you were going to reach for it, an idea struck you. You hoped and prayed that he’d understand, otherwise you’d just be embarrassing yourself again. Should that happen, you'd simply never come back to this store and would probably dwell on it for the rest of your life. You decided to take the chance anyway. “Fetch me that book?” you asked him.

Spencer looked at you incredulously. Is she serious? The shelf is barely above her head, she could reach it with no pro—

He chuckled as he realized what you were referencing. He grinned down at you as he pulled the book from the shelf. “As you wish.”

You giggled as he handed it to you. “So happy you understood that. I think I would have died of shame if you didn’t.”

That got a true laugh out of the handsome man. “I’ll admit it took me a second to get it, but that was perfect. Have you read it before or just watched the movie?”

“I’ve read it before, but my copy has up and vanished. It’s one of my favorites, so it was imperative that I get another one.”

He nods as if in understanding but his expression is one of confusion. “If it’s one of your favorites, then how did you lose it?”

“I just moved here recently. Went through all of my boxes but still can’t find it, so I’ve chalked it up to it getting lost in the move.”

“Well then, I’m glad to have been of assistance. Is that all you were looking for today?”

“For today, yes, but I’ll definitely be back. I don't think I’ve ever been in a bookstore as cozy as this one.”

Spencer beamed at you, pleased with your praise of the shop he’d worked so hard to establish. “Thank you. I worked very hard to make it that way.”

You looked at him quizzically. “You designed the shop?”

“No, I own it,” he said humorously. “Spencer Reid, owner of Reid’s Reads. It’s nice to meet you,” he introduced himself, even going as far as to offer you his hand, which ordinarily he’d never do. But the thought of initiating any kind of skin-to-skin contact was too thrilling to pass up.

“I’m Y/n, it’s nice to meet you, too,” you said, shaking the hand he’d offered.

“If that’s all you need then I can go ahead and get you checked out?” His eyes were wide and expressive as he looked to you for confirmation.

“Oh. Right.” Heat rose to your cheeks unbidden and you tried your best to keep your emotions in check. But unbeknownst to you, Spencer was a former FBI agent that specialized in such things, not to mention a certified genius. How cute. She’s blushing again. He also took note of the poorly hidden upturn of your lips. Why so shy? Just smile at me, sweetheart.

He gestured for you to walk ahead of him. “Ladies first.”

He followed behind you to the register, glad for the opportunity to check you out in more ways than one.

You placed the book on the counter, and Spencer resumed his position behind the register. He scanned the book and read out the price to you. Pay with a card. Pay with a card. Pay with a card. he chanted mentally.

Bingo. You pulled the piece of plastic from your wallet and handed it to him. He read the name as subtly as he could. You’d given him your first name, but a first name wouldn't be enough to find you online. He swiped your card and bagged your book, making sure to let his hand brush against yours as he handed the items to you.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/n. Do come again.”

“Oh, I will. Have a good day!” you said as you were leaving, giving him a small wave. The bell chimed as the door was opened again, and his eyes remained on your figure as he watched you through the large windows at the front of the store until you were out of sight.

With your full name now committed to memory, he planned on finding every trace of you online that he could as soon as he was home from work. He was no Penelope Garcia, but this wasn't something he particularly wanted the FBI involved in.

And so, for the rest of the day, his thoughts were consumed with only one thing: you.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader

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flowersandbigteeth · 1 year

Text

Your vampire husband commits a sin

General Plot: Oh dear, this got quite dark...Your new vampire husband's mother visits

Word Count: 4K

Vampire (Levi) x single mother reader

A/N: this got way darker than I anticipated, so I want to come back to Levi with some lighter stuff in the future, but the story kind of compelled me

💕 SFW MASTERPOST 💕

W: angst, angst, angst...murder...this is so much darker than a lot of other things I've written so be warned...darling becomes yandere a little?

You buried your face in your hands, watching Levi dance around his unnecessarily fancy living room with your baby in his arms. He adored Meryl and since a week ago when he’d declared you were his wife and took you both in, he spent as much time with either you or her in his arms as possible. You were quite a bit more flighty, while Meryl was a willing participant, so more often than not she ended up being toted around.

You didn’t entirely trust Levi, but what you did believe with all your heart, because it was written all over his face was that he loved Meryl and would never let any harm come to her. So you accepted the help. Levi had maids to help you with diapers and food. He’d even hired a nanny, though you were still wary of leaving Meryl alone with her. Not that she didn’t come with the best recommendations, this was just all very new and stressful. It soothed you a bit to keep Meryl close by.

“We don’t need to invite 600 people to an adoption party!” you insisted.

He had already legally adopted Meryl, just like he legally married you.

He turned to you, his clan Lord taking over.

“My clan needs to recognize my daughter and wife. I know it seems frivolous now, but it is imperative to your safety. You are not meat to be eaten or a token to be traded and a proper show will establish that you are above them,” he explained sharply, “there will be many parties, so you will have to adjust.”

You pressed your hands together and looked at him over your fingers.

“I’m very certain it is illegal for vampires to eat people without consent at all,” you reminded him.

He laughed as if you’d made a joke and turned his attention back to Meryl who was tugging at his hair so he would throw her. She liked when he tossed her gently and then caught her again. Suddenly he sniffed the air and frowned, handing Meryl abruptly back to you and sliding the chair you were in across the room as if the two of you weighed nothing.

There was a knock at the door.

“Enter.”

One of the many vampire minions Levi had walking around, this one named Eleanor, was standing at the door. At first you’d been a little instinctively jealous of the pretty vampires. It, of course, had been a little shameful. You were studiously resisting Levi’s advances, you shouldn’t be feeling anything at all, but it soon became very clear there was nothing to even be concerned with. All of his underlings were thoroughly terrified of him, he was not boyfriend material.

With you and Meryl he was gentle, affable, and kind, but since you’d been there you’d covered Meryl’s face twice while he’d dismembered two of them for failing to follow his orders to the letter. Suffice to say, you weren’t exactly sold on his protection, though you couldn't think of a way out of it. It wasn’t as simple as running away from him, you had Meryl to think of too. You couldn’t drag her through chaos to escape him. If he was promising to provide her with a stable life and not hurt either of you, you couldn’t afford to sneeze at him.

He’d tried to explain to you that he lived in a different world than you did. Vampires weren’t humans, they were monsters. To rule them he had to maintain absolute authority, which called for ruthlessness and displays of power. You’d simply nodded, accepting his answer for what it was. In a fish bowl full of sharks, you wanted the biggest one on your side.

“Darrrrrlinnnng!” a lovely vampire cooed as she floated through the door wearing a rather sexy, slinky black dress.

She looked strangely familiar with long, long black hair and your eyebrows raised as she threw herself around Levi. He growled at her and pushed her away.

“Mother, please,” he grumbled, “why are you here?”

She pouted.

“Can’t a mother visit her son?” she asked, “especially now! I was told you got married and now you have a baby. You weren’t going to tell your own mother?”

He narrowed his eyes at her.

“You’ve been banished for hundreds of years, what makes you think you can just come breezing in here…?”

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence as she noticed the two of you. She grinned and skipped over to you.

“How lovely! She’s just beautiful. She’ll make a pretty vampire,” she said, tipping up your chin with her red nail tipped finger. Her eyes dropped to Meryl and they narrowed.

“You’ll be having your own children, won't you?” she asked, suddenly turning and looking back at her son.

He looked extremely annoyed.

“It’s much too early to have that sort of discussion,” he said diplomatically, glancing at you, “and Meryl is my child.”

She frowned.

“But she’s not, is she?” she said, seeming put out and wrinkling her nose at Meryl.

For her part, Meryl’s eyes filled with tears and she started crying.

“Sh, sh,” you cooed, pulling her to her chest and she quieted to soft sobs as you rubbed her back.

“Vampire babies are much less fussy,” she pointed out.

Levi growled and crossed the room.

“Why are you here?” he gritted out tightly.

She smiled up at him, batting her eyelashes.

“I wanted to be around to see my grandchildren grow up,” she said, taking a step behind you and stroking your head, “and since I know all about the situation with the baby’s father, I knew you wouldn’t turn me away. You need help don’t you? Raising a baby is hard for a new mother. You need your family.”

Levi actually looked a little taken off kilter for a second and frowned. You looked up to him and cocked your head to the side, confused as to what your ex-fiance had to do with anything.

He quickly schooled his features and took his mother’s shoulders, pulling her away from you.

“Of course, it’s natural for a grandmother to want to see her grandchildren,” he said, a stiff smile forming on his face, “let me have Eleanor prepare you a suite so you’ll be comfortable.”

When he’d shuffled her from the room you looked at Levi for an explanation. When he walked back in he didn’t look at you immediately, instead drifting over and picking up Meryl. He cradled her to his cheek, whispering something to her while he patted her back and carried her to the window to look out. He seemed somewhere between paralyzingly angry and endlessly sad.

You slowly got up and walked across the room, placing a hand on the small of his back. His head jerked down to you and he looked surprised.

“You okay?” you asked softly.

He leaned his back against the window and nodded wanly, brushing his fingers through Meryl’s wisps of baby hair.

“My mother murdered my father,” he said evenly and you gasped.

His eyes flicked to you.

“It’s not that uncommon in my world,” he said, “even married couples often don’t trust one another, but I was very close with my father. Of course, she’s my mother, how could I execute her? I’m a vampire, but even some things- So…I banished her…”

You brushed a hand against his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Levi,” you said, “that’s horrific…I wish there was something I could say...but… Why are you letting her stay here?”

He looked somewhere over your shoulder before giving you a small smirk.

“I suppose love is really the only answer,” he said and you nodded at the slightly enigmatic statement.

It was sort of bittersweet that he still cared for his mother even after what she did. You were still a bit worried.

“Is she dangerous?” you asked.

He looked at you with the weight of a mountain on his shoulders.

“Yes. Don’t ever find yourself alone with her, do you understand?” he asked, “don’t ever leave Meryl alone with her.”

You nodded, trembling a little. This new world you’d been thrust into was frightening.

He looked at you for a long time, then his face shifted to something you couldn’t read.

“I’m sorry,” he said, handing Meryl back to you and cupping your cheek. He planted a kiss on your forehead and looked into your eyes.

“I’m scaring you,” he went on, “you shouldn’t be terrified in your own home. I’ll sort this out.”

You didn’t really know what that meant either so you just nodded slowly, pulling Meryl closer to you.

–

“Peekaboo!” you giggled at Meryl, popping your face from between your hands while you sat on a blanket in Levi’s garden. He lived in an expansive mansion just outside of the city on a hill. The house was contemporary and the garden had a green lawn with more modern sculptures than flowers.

A stiff, female vampire guard stood off to the side in the shadows watching for threats. Levi didn’t allow male staff near you and though he had them, he preferred to meet with them where you weren’t.

Meryl was giggling at you and you hardly noticed your guard stiffen and disappear into the garden, going after some unknown threat. When you looked up again Levi’s mother was approaching you across the lawn, dressed in a rather garish pink suit and high heels that were sinking into the grass.

“Oh there you are darling!” she beamed at you, flashing her fangs and adjusting the large round sunglasses on her face, “Levi has been doing too good of a job hiding you from me!”

She held a matching pink umbrella aloft. Vampires could tolerate the sun, but they didn’t like it.

You instinctively scooped Meryl into your arms and held her to your chest as you started to get up. Glancing around, you frowned, finding your guard was missing.

“I should really be heading inside, Ms. Prishdarov,” you mumbled, trying to gather Meryl’s baby things.

“No, no, darling!” she purred, pushing you firmly back down with strength you would not expect from a thin woman, her sharp nails pricking your shoulder, “I insist. Let’s enjoy the sunshine and chat a bit. I never even got to introduce myself before my son hurried me off. I’m Karen, but you should call me mom!”

You gave her a wan smile, pulling Meryl to your opposite side as she arranged herself on your blanket.

“(Y/N),” you said, trying to be polite.

Your heart was pounding in your chest and you were sure Karen could tell you were terrified of her, though she simply looked you over with a cool smile on her pink lips.

“My son really does know how to pick ‘em,” she said, her fingers trailing over the curve of your chin, “you really are lovely, a pity you were already with child.”

You frowned at her.

“Levi loves Meryl. He considers her his own,” you said defensively, turning to your daughter and handing her a brightly colored plastic toy shaped like a giraffe, hoping she didn’t understand Karen’s words.

“My son is soft,” she said icily, “in my time a man would simply get rid of the bastard child and have a proper one.”

You narrowed your eyes at what she was proposing.

“That’s incredibly savage,” you gasped, holding Meryl closer to you, “and Meryl is not a bastard. My fiance abandoned us.”

She snorted.

“Did he?” she asked, looking you over, “you must have very low self esteem to believe a man would simply dump a woman as pretty as you.”

You shook your head at her, drawing your brow.

“You’re not making any sense,” you spat, annoyed, “he had a sickness and stole everything from his own child.”

She laughed out loud.

“Okay dear,” she said, “I didn’t mean to upset you. Of course he did and Levi was there just in time to step in, wasn’t he?”

You glared at her.

“What are you trying to get at?” you asked, confused, “my ex is probably gambling Meryl’s college fund away with some call girl as we speak. I didn’t expect to be taken in by vampires, but Levi has been very kind to us.”

You and your fiance had gone through a lot to get him treatment for his gambling addiction. It made you sad that he’d thrown your future together away and you knew he had a sickness, but things had progressed far beyond anything you could do to help him. You had to protect Meryl and if he chose to abandon the two of you, then he might as well have been dead. Perhaps your own hurt at the painful rejection and betrayal was tainting your thoughts, but you were human and it couldn’t be helped.

She smiled at you and brushed her thumb over your cheek.

“You’re just perfect aren’t you?” she laughed, “well your ex isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about. I was hoping we could be allies. As I said, my son is soft, he needs my help, but due to some unfortunate circumstances he just won’t listen to me…”

“You murdered his father,” you said blandly, getting right to the point.

You didn’t like Ms. Prishdarov and your patience was wearing thin. She laughed.

“Darling, you have no concept of the nuance of being a clan Queen,” she said as if she were talking to a child, “but you will. I don’t need to explain my actions and I’m not ashamed of them. Like I said…my son is soft.”

She looked at you.

“But you…you need strong allies,” she said, “and I can be on your side.”

“What do you want?” you asked.

“I simply want you to be the little bird in Levi’s ear…any advice I give is only in your best interest and-”

“Get away from her!” Levi’s deep voice snarled as he approached rapidly across the lawn. He passed his mother and snatched you up by the shoulder, his cold hands digging into your arm.

“What did I tell you?” he snapped at you, dragging you and Meryl inside.

“But our-” you started to say, but the look he gave you was ferocious, his red eyes glinting like a stop light. He hadn’t actually wanted an answer.

When you were inside, he pushed you against the wall.

“I told you never to be alone with her!” he boomed down at you, his face a frightening, animal version of itself. Meryl sobbed in your arms and you quickly looked down to soothe her.

When you glanced back up, Levi was rubbing his eyes and pacing.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking back at you, his eyes widening when you flinched as he put his hand on your arm.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Please forgive me…it’s just…you don’t know what kind of woman my mother is. Where was Veronica?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“How should I know!? She disappeared! Do you think I really want to be alone with that woman?! She keeps talking about Meryl like she’s some kind of rotten fruit that I should just abandon!”

You bounced a crying Meryl on your shoulder, cuddling her cheek and he sank against the opposite wall in the hallway.

“Let me have her,” he said, holding his arms out to you.

Hesitating for a second, you finally handed her over and he cooed at her.

“I’m so sorry baby bat,” he said gently kissing her forehead, “I should have never raised my voice at you or your mother.”

Her tears slowed at her favorite person’s gentle attention, soothing away the fear.

“She needs to go, Levi,” you growled.

You didn’t feel comfortable demanding much from him and there wasn’t much that he didn’t provide, but as a mother…this you could not tolerate.

His eyes flickered up to you in surprise and a deadly look settled over his face. You thought he would deny you or chide you for pushing his mother away, but he was only silent and stone serious. Giving you a firm nod, he turned his attention back to Meryl, letting her chew on his finger and play with the hair falling over his shoulder.

–

You woke to screaming and the breaking of glass. Your eyes flew around the room to Meryl’s bed, where she was just pushing herself up. Hurrying over to her, you pulled her in your arms and hurried to the corner of the room, listening.

You heard Karen’s howling laughter.

“You’re weak!” she snarled, then you heard some glass breaking, “you’ll never do it! You’re too soft. That woman has only made you weaker. If you think this little tantrum means anything, you’re a fool!”

There was only the sound of heavy feet crunching on glass.

“You’re right, mother. I was soft, but I let you leave with your life and you returned to blackmail me!” he boomed, “you are the fool!”

You heard wood splintering and thuds as if heavy things were hitting the floor.

“You can’t! You won’t!” she screamed, but this time it wasn’t so confident.

Then there was a squelch and silence.

You heard dragging feet and then the door opened. Looking up, you saw Levi standing in the frame staring at his bloody hands.

“What have I done?” he gasped, his eyes full of horror.

Your heart dropped in your chest and you hurriedly put Meryl down in her crib before crossing the room to him and taking his bloody hands, pulling them to your face.

You were surprised? Yes. Horrified? Yes…but Levi had done this for you, because you asked him to. This wasn’t at all what you meant, but hell if you were going to tell him that now.

“You did this for us Levi,” you told him, looking into his red eyes, dark and dim. They were glazed, replaying the vision of his mother dying at his hand over and over in his head.

You tipped up on your toes and pulled his face down to you.

“Look at me Levi,” you said, “focus on me. You did the right thing. You did. You did this for us. For your family.”

His pupils focused on you, desperate for something to hold onto, so you tipped your mouth up and pressed it against his. His lips were cool and at first they were stiff and unmoving. Then they softened just slightly and you pulled him closer. You gave him the softest most loving kiss you'd given anyone.

When you pulled away his eyes were sharper, the blood red color returning. You pulled his bloody hands back to your face and kissed them, ignoring the sanguine mess.

“Come with me, Levi,” you murmured, pulling him behind you to the bathroom, “let me help you.”

You ignored the shocking vision of blood on your lips in the mirror as you turned on the bathroom light and sat him down on the toilet. Not letting him look at his hands, you pulled his face up to you, giving him the smallest smile.

“You’re safe, everything is going to be okay,” you hummed, “I’m here and I’m never going to leave you.”

His eyes got wide.

“Promise?” he asked and you could see he was broken. He needed this. What was done was done. You couldn’t go back.

“I swear to you Levi, you did this thing for me. I’ll never betray you,” you swore.

Pulling towels off of the shelf you started the bath, while you cleaned the blood from his hands, humming to him like you did Meryl when you put her to sleep.

“Hey, eyes on me,” you whispered, when they drifted down to his fingers while you scrubbed the blood from under the nails.

Levi had never been so happy to settle his gaze on you in his life. It was a lovely vision, his goddess with a streak of blood on her lips a hint at her future. He thought he’d never be able to forget his own mother’s eyes going dim as he severed her head from her neck, but while he looked at you, your soft smile. The same soft smile that soothed his daughter…the weight on his heart lifted. He only felt tired. So tired.

When every speck of red was cleaned from his hands, you helped him undress and put him in the bath. Your hands drifted over his skin lightly, caressing every inch. He needed tender care and you were willing to give it.

“You’re mine now, Levi,” you told him, because it was true, “just like Meryl, we’re a family. No one will ever come between us.”

Karen said you didn’t understand the nuances of being a clan Queen, but that had only lasted for a day.

It didn’t matter that Levi’d killed your fiancé. You weren’t stupid. With a little bit of thought after your earlier conversation you’d put two and two together, but Karen had underestimated you and you’d underestimated Levi. None of that mattered now. This man…this vampire killed his own mother for you, for your daughter...to protect your family. No, you understood nuance very well.

You brushed Levi’s cheek, his eyes following you, looking for your approval, so you smiled.

“Let’s have a pretty wedding, my love, then the adoption party, okay?” you said, "would you like that?"

He tipped his head into your shoulder and breathed into your neck. You kissed his forehead, stroking his hair.

“Okay, (Y/N),” he said, putting his wet arms around you and pulling you close, “I’d like that.”

#monster x girl #monster boyfriend #monster lover #sfw monster fluff #monster oc #vampire x reader #angst #yandere fluff #male yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #vampire boyfriend #vampire #monster x reader

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miasmaghoul · 4 months

Note

you have so got me thinking about best to worst ghouls in so many different situations now (that riding one was soooooo good)

how about your best to worst ghoul takes on fingering? 😏 (thank you and happy new year!)

OUGH FINGERING MY BELOVED yes absolutely let's go

once again, best to worst below the cut!

Dew - he prides himself on his skill and efficiency. if he's with someone who can easily orgasm more than once (Rain, Cumulus, Aurora, Aeon) then he will absolutely make them cum on his fingers before he fucks them. he knows everyone's most sensitive spots, and every ghoul (plus a couple Papas and, on occasion, Sister Imperator) is guilty of dragging him into a closet at one point or another specifically so he can show off those skills.

Aether - is it cheating to use quintessence to find weak spots? Aether doesn't think so, and no one has complained so far. he lets the magick trickle from his fingers, just a whisper of static, and suddenly they're moaning and writing and grabbing for whatever part of him they can reach. at this point he doesn't NEED the magickal assistance, but the others love the feel of it alongside those thick fingers so he keeps it up.

Cirrus - precision is the name of the game for her. it's a power thing, of course, and Cirrus delights in getting all the big, strong ghouls face down ass up and whimpering while she abuses every secret soft spot they have. like Dew, will make the others cum on her fingers first and foremost, but unlike Dew she does it to EVERYONE. if they can't cum again for a while that's not her problem. they'll take whatever she gives anyway, even if they leak a few overstimulated tears along the way.

Swiss - it's one of his favorite things to do. insists on eye contact while he touches them inside, needs to see every twitch of their brow and to watch their cheeks flush. he wants to see the pleasure he causes plain as day, wants them noisy and squirming while they fall apart because of him. he can get a little too intense sometimes, though, and a few of the others have trouble finishing under his scrutiny.

Cumulus - her fingers are skilled and delicate, but also short. she knows exactly what buttons to push, make no mistake, but it can be challenging for her to really work them like that. pianist's hands are lovely to have, but her fingers only have so much reach. if she's fingering anyone, it's paired with oral so she can be sure they feel good.

Mountain - long, callused fingers and unmatched rhythm speak of good things, but Mountain likes to be really, really slow about it. indulgent. he's not in a rush to make anyone cum, not as a rule, and he'll spend as long as he likes with just one finger inside until they can't stand it anymore and demand another. he'll give it to them, of course, but the languid pace remains the same.

Rain - long, elegant fingers lend themselves well to the task, but Rain will not give anyone more than two of them. he can make them cum like that, of course, but he doesn't usually put in specific effort to that end. much prefers to make them cum on his cock so he gets something out of it too. call him greedy if you want, he'll agree. he prefers having his fingers sucked on anyway.

Sunshine - she has quick fingers, but mostly uses them to stretch her partners. her goal is usually to stick her dick in them asap, and she doesn't really have the patience to do much more than prep with them. but she won't say no if someone wants to make out and shoves her hand down their pants, as long as they return the favor.

Aeon - he's learning, but it's not his favorite thing to do in all honesty. he has this Thing about keeping his hands and fingers protected (Dew and Rain had the same issue when they were new), so sticking them in places doesn't appeal to him all that much. at least not yet. Dew keeps telling him that'll change, but in the meantime Aeon prefers keeping his fingers visible.

Aurora - she's just so little, is the thing. her fingers are short and skinny and her forearms get sore quick. besides, she prefers to receive than give anyway. the less work she has to do, the better. at least until she's cum a couple times, then she's a bit more willing to give it a go. still, though, she'd rather use other parts of her body to bring pleasure.

#miasma's work #the band ghost headcanons #nameless ghoul headcanons #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #aeon ghoul #phantom ghoul #swiss ghoul #rain ghoul #mountain ghoul #cumulus ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #aurora ghoulette

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ghulehunknown · 7 months

Text

Teach Me Tonight

Primo x F!Reader

Day 7 of KINKTOBER is {finally} here! 🎃

**WARNING - EXPLICIT/NSFW**

Written by request for BugbiteWrites on AO3 <3

“Teach Me Tonight”

Summary: You’ve been shadowing as Primo’s intern in the gardens for weeks and share your affections with him. After opening up, you realize that he could teach you a thing or two about watering your own garden.

CW/Tags: teacher/student, age difference, F!Reader, reader is somewhat inexperienced, vaginal fingering, CMNF, semi-public nudity and sex, sex outdoors, praise, mutual masturbation, handjob, dry humping, oral sex (M receiving), P in V sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: 3600

For several weeks you were shadowing Papa Primo in the gardens. Truth be told you only had a normal-sized interest in plants, but you marveled at the thought of alone time with your favorite Papa.

“So,” he had said after many days of near silence. “What is your interest in plants? Surely you could have picked a more exciting adventure for your future career here, fragolina?”

“Who better to learn things from? I’ve always admired the work you’ve done at the Ministry,” you had said shyly with a smile, the first full sentences you formed other than your name when you first met and “Yes, Papa” when given instructions.

“That is refreshing to hear. Most young folks are here for the youthful, more energetic Papas and they fall into a certain ‘party’ lifestyle when they arrive, and burn out quick.” Only this silly old geezer would be calling his brothers “youthful,” and it brought a smile to your lips.

“It might not be exciting work what we do here, cara, but I can assure you that your time with me will be fruitful and rewarding,” he continued.

You could have melted when he said that - did he know somehow, that you had fancied him since you were a girl? Did he know the candle you held close in your heart for him, always lit?

The weeks went by and you would chit-chat as you gardened. He would tell you tales of his time as a young Clergy member, how he used to party like his brothers. Then things changed as he grew older and weary, and he found solitude in the quiet greenhouses.

His touch with the plants never wavered - his hands were always steady when carefully snipping the vines on the pumpkins, trimming the hedges, or snipping off dead leaves. Your interactions were always harmonious and polite, with the occasional brush of the hands - his strong, yet delicate, hands.

But today was different. Sister Imperator would soon be rotating the Siblings’ work responsibilities based on productivity or “fit,” unless either their respective Papa or ghoul specifically asked for them to stay as an apprentice.

Today you walk into the gardens, head held high, a confidence you had never felt before now surging through you. He wouldn't make the first move, you think to yourself - as it should be. Imagine the complications then, if there was ever the slightest implication that your job was on the line all because Papa wanted your affection. No, it has to be you.

You work together in silence again for most of the day, focusing on mixing the right compost for the flowerbed soil.

“Papa, I want to discuss something,” you say.

“What is it, bambolina?” he asks, finishing up.

Those names! How he makes your heart flutter with just his simple words. Even though you hardly know what he is saying half the time, you know his words are sweet and genuine.

He gestures to the water spigot and watering can and instructs you to fill it up. You shake yourself to get out of your daydream and nod, walking over to the side of the greenhouse and filling up the can.

“Well, Sister…she’s giving all the new Siblings their performance reviews soon, and I was just wondering…if, well, if you were happy with mine.” You waddle back over to the table with the watering can, a little too heavy for you to carry.

He picks it up with ease. “Sì, I have given you all good marks. You are very studious and I have enjoyed your help here.”

“Oh - erm, grazie Papa. So will I be continuing to work with you in the gardens?”

“If that is your wish, then yes.”

“Oh good, good. That’s…good,” you say awkwardly, scratching your head.

“Mm, it is,” he remarks gently, not pushing the subject any farther. He begins watering the smaller plants on the tabletop.

“I’ve been enjoying my time here so much, Papa. And I need you to know, the real reason I came here was to get to know you better.”

He pauses, listening to you intently, then continues tending to the plants.

You swallow the lump forming in your throat then continue. “I have gotten to know you, for who you truly are, and I…I want to spend even more time with you, in a more intimate setting.”

“Hm - me, donzella?” he says, still watering the plants on the tabletop, though he does not sound surprised. “No, non è possibile. You do not want this old fool.”

“You aren’t a fool,” you say, stepping closer. “Though you may be a bit…advanced, in more ways than one.”

He eyes you from his peripheral, and you aren’t sure if he’s giving a warning glance or teasing you.

You gulp nervously. “I just meant, Papa…that you are very wise and…experienced.”

“Sì, cara, I have lived a full life. Some things I would rather not remember, and others were…” He pauses in thought, then says with a smile, “..hmm, fun.”

“And what about having another fun time…teaching me something else?”

He flashes you another look, this time setting the watering can down and raising an eyebrow while glancing your body up and down, perhaps unsure of your intentions. “Have you not explored the pleasures of your own body before, coccinella? Have you not lain with another?”

“I have, Papa…but I’ve only slept with one other before. I know how to make myself feel good, but…” You pause, trembling. “I was hoping you could show me what true pleasure feels like,” you blurt out the rest - knowing if you didn’t, you could never say it. You can’t believe what you just confessed to Primo.

He ponders for a moment before saying anything. He removes his gloves, revealing his long and slender fingers, slightly leathery and the top of his hands wrinkled - and your mind immediately goes to where he could put those fingers. He takes off his gardening hat as well, and you notice a few age spots on his bald head. None of that matters to you, though. In fact, he’s just your type. You can’t explain it, but the very fact he has lived a long and full life before your very existence turns you on. Like a forbidden romance, but also the thrill of experiencing what he’s done so many times before you.

It’s not about what he can do for you - it’s about being with him, to be chosen. To feel special in an otherwise unspecial world and push beyond whatever limitations you had put on yourself before, all in the pursuit of an orderly and plain life. If everything went just the way you had planned, nothing could hurt you. But what kind of life was that if there were no surprises?

He gathers a couple of blankets typically used for covering the delicate plants during frost or other harsh weather, and lays them down on the ground and over the pumpkin patch. He turns on the space heaters on the patio then takes you by the arm towards the pumpkins.

He lays you down in the patch - the leafy fronds and plump gourds surprisingly comfortable. A medium sized pumpkin fits the arch of your back perfectly. He lays down next to you, propped by pumpkins so he is laying on his side. He reaches over you, his hand grazing over your breasts to caress your shoulder. You swallow another lump in your throat as your nerves get the best of you. You haven’t experienced this sort of feeling before, but you think it’s…thrill.

“Are you comfortable, Sorella?” he asks, massaging your upper arm.

You nod quickly - too quickly.

“Are you sure? We do not have to do this,” he says soothingly, pausing as he begins to retract his hand.

“Wait, Papa -” you begin to say, then pull his hand back over your body, lightly touching your chest again before reaching your shoulder opposite him.

He strokes your arm again, this time pulling your sleeve past your shoulder, revealing your bra strap. He takes the strap in between his fingers and gently grazes the fabric. “Pesky thing,” he says, then looks into your eyes.

“It hooks in the back,” you say with a gulp.

He continues looking you in the eyes, then holds your face in his hand. You close your eyes and exhale. He won’t make the first move, will he? He has to know you want this, truly want this - and that you aren’t at all uncomfortable with the dynamic. At least, that’s the only thing you can surmise. Afterall, he is Papa and you are merely his intern.

You lean in, tilting your head - but falter before reaching his lips. Fuck, what is it? Nerves? The undeniable shame you know you’ll have to battle later - the kind of shame that only a former Catholic schoolgirl would know in the late hours of night?

But that one move is just what he needs; he needs your invitation. Still holding your face in his hands, he pulls you in close, and kisses your lips.

Suddenly, even if just for now, your ex-Catholic guilt subsides. And all you want is here before you. You kiss him back and your arms find their way around his shoulders. You place one hand on the back of his head and feel the smoothness of his scalp in your palm.

He kisses the side of your face and down the crook of your neck, trailing his hand there and then down your back. He unzips your gown halfway, then slips it down your shoulders. You pull your arms out of the sleeves, revealing your upper body. He cups one breast in his hand over your bra, massaging while continuing to kiss you.

You quietly moan under your breath, feeling your nipples harden at his touch. He slips his hand inside your bra, exposing your nipple to the crisp air, repeating the same motion to your other breast. He softly pinches your hardened flesh between his thumb and index finger, massaging you with the palm of his hand. He alternates on both sides, kissing your lips - working up the friction between your legs.

“Mmmn, Papa - ” you gasp, breaking away from his embrace. You look around frantically, suddenly remembering you were in the gardens, where the Cardinal and Imperator often liked to stroll. Occasionally you had even seen Terzo’s legs entangled with another Siblings’ through the bushes. “Won’t someone see?”

“No one will bother us here, bambolina,” he says assuredly. When you still seem skeptical, he explains further. “There is Mass tonight. They will all be in the Abbey.”

Relief washes over you. You could only handle one new experience at a time; perhaps exhibitionism and voyeurism would come later.

Still looking beyond the gardens towards the stained glass windows of the Ministry, he turns your head gently to face him. “We do not have to do anything you are not comfortable with - capisci, Sorella?”

You nod, and lean in to kiss him again. “It’s okay Papa. I’m ready.”

“Ecco una brava ragazza,” he says with a comforting smile, while reaching behind you and unhooking your bra, placing it beside you. Your nipples harden again at the sudden cold (though they were already halfway hard), goosebumps all over your body now.

He slowly lifts the skirt of your habit up past your hips, revealing your pink lacy panties. The chilly autumn air stings, but his hands give you warmth. “No one should ever touch you without your permission cara, is that understood?” You nod, your teeth chattering in your mouth. “Good,” he continues. “In that case…is this alright?”

You nod again. “Yes Papa,” you whisper.

He pulls your underwear down past your knees, tantalizingly slow, then finally past your ankles. He tosses them to the side, landing on the stem of a nearby gourd. “Che bel fiorellino,” he remarks upon seeing your trimmed cunt, running his hand over your body. The space heaters’ warmth finally reaches you and you stop shivering.

“It should be easy to find your g-spot,” he says, gently entering his middle digit into you, moving around for a few seconds until you coo. “Ah, there it is,” he says, grazing the soft, raised spot inside your walls. “And already so wet,” he remarks. “Sei la brava ragazza di Papa.”

Your back arches and you curl up next to Primo’s chest, hand clutching onto his chasuble. Your mouth opens in an “Oh!” as you exclaim while he brushes along your walls.

He massages inside you for a few moments while keeping his other hand over your abdomen. “You should be relaxed and molto, molto bagnata before going any farther.”

He continues to pump his finger in and out of you slowly, curling upwards and petting your sensitive spot when he re-enters. “You are still quite tense,” he says matter-of-factly.

You blush - you could tell now that you were involuntarily seizing up around him, your whole body clenching as if preparing for pain. You didn’t think he could, well, feel that.

He smiles warmly down at you, still curled up into his chest. “Non preoccuparti, cara mia.” He kisses along your neck, along the curve of your collarbone. He moves down to your chest, then sucks on your nipple - and you moan quietly again. He alternates breasts until his finger slides inside you more easily and your shoulders slack, your muscles no longer holding tension.

“Are you ready for another finger, la mia bambolina, mm? I think you are,” he says, sliding another finger inside you. You cry out, feeling the stretch, your body inviting him much more easily this time. “Such a good little thing, you are doing so well,” he coaxes.

He pumps in and out of you several times, then brings his fingers upwards to your clit - covered in your slick. He slides around your bud in small, slow circles. You sigh happily, your hand moving down his chest closer to his navel.

“What are you doing, fragolina?” he asks.

“I want to do something for you, Papa,” you whisper.

“I am not worried about my pleasure, pet.”

“I want to,” you say as you continue down his body. Your hand hits his erection and you begin to palm him through his robe.

“Mmm,” he mumbles, closing his eyes and breathing heavily through his nose. His gentle circles in between your legs falter for just a moment as you begin to stroke him, but he continues, your breathy sighs now matching in rhythm.

You turn to face him, dangling one leg over his so you are straddling his knee. You begin to grind on his leg, his bony knee providing you relief between your thighs. He removes his hand from your entrance, then holds your waist by both hands and guides you along, helping you build friction on your throbbing clit. You place both hands on his shoulders to steady yourself.

He grabs you and places you over his clothed erection, sliding his prodding member in between your folds. There’s a dark spot on his knee from your arousal. A few times he almost enters you, the soft silk catching inside you, rubbing a new sensation. Your back arches again and you reach around you to gather up the fabric of his robes. You lift it over his hips - and to your surprise, he is wearing nothing underneath.

The sight of his throbbing cock bobbing towards you sends a chill down your spine - right to your core. Christ, he really is as big as everyone rumors. He’s long and slender just as you imagined, with an upwards curve that you know will be able to hit you just right. He’s pale just like the rest of his skin - with a pink tip, a bead of precum resting in the slit of his hood.

You get on all fours before him, looking up at him from beneath his cock, a hunger in your eyes.

He looks at you while running his hand through your hair, then gently pulls you towards him. You take his cock in your hand, stroking slowly from base to tip, thumbing the head on the way up. “That’s it, Sorella. There’s a good girl,” he says.

“Ahh,” he sighs as you lick the precum off his tip, delicately dancing your tongue around. He puts his hand over yours, guiding your hand up and down his shaft as you lick around his first few inches, not knowing how in hell you’ll be able to fit all of him inside you.

Sensing your hesitancy, he pulls his hips backwards. “That can be enough for now, cara. We do not have to go any further. You have done very well this evening.” He pats the side of your face.

“I want to go further,” you insist, crawling up to him closer.

He pauses. “Coccinella, I do not have a condom with me. Unless we go to my bedchambers, we -”

“I’m on birth control,” you blurt out, inching closer to him. “I’m ready.”

“Condoms do more than prevent insemination,” he adds, forgetting you are not completely ignorant in the world of sex.

“Papa, I have not been with anyone else in a while,” you assure him. “Have you? - I mean, shit I’m sorry. That was way too forward.”

He rubs your arm soothingly. “I assure you, I have not been with anyone else as of late. And I do not think I will be…for some time,” he says, looking at you after his pause.

Oh. Does he mean…? That he never wants to be with you after this, or that he won’t be with anyone else aside from you?

He says your name, and looks you in the eyes while holding your chin in his fingertips. “Sei la ragione di ogni mio sorriso.”

What the fuck does that mean? He sounds so sweet saying it…

“You are the reason for my smiles, bambolina. You are the reason I keep getting up everyday. My life lacked purpose until you reminded me that I am needed here. I have felt cast aside for years now, withering into a shell of my former self. You,” he says while rubbing your chin. “You are my reason.”

“Oh Papa,” you say, crawling up into his lap and holding his face in your hands, kissing him. “You’re very important to me.”

“E anche tu sei importante per me…”

“I need to feel close to you…” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck and straddling him again.

He tucks your hair behind your ear. “Così bella,” he whispers breathlessly as you stroke his cock once more, rubbing yourself against his shaft. He lifts your hips over his, lowering you over his tip.

You stand yourself up on your knees to ready yourself for his length. You wince as he enters you slowly.

“Careful, cara mia,” he says gently, holding you up firmly as your knees begin to buckle under you. “That’s it, brava ragazza. Slowly now.”

You tremble as his first inches enter you, stretching you much more than his fingers did earlier. He grabs onto your rear, massaging your cheeks and gliding you up and down, not going past halfway down his shaft. Your legs start to shake uncontrollably and he lifts you off of him easily like a doll. He gently places you down on your back, propped up by the pumpkins.

He glides over top of you, entering you only as far as you went before. He is carefully holding himself up so as not to enter you fully.

“Papa, is that comfortable? Will you be able to get off if you’re not um, fully inside?” you inquire.

“Your comfort is much more important than my pleasure, cara.” He slides in and out very carefully, kissing you. “I assure you, I will enjoy myself. But at your pace.”

You feel your walls stretch to accommodate his size, his cock grazing against your g-spot perfectly the way he’s angled. Your chest rises and falls, each breath getting heavier and heavier. He dips his head down to suckle at your breasts while he pumps in and out of you, now moving quicker the more you moan. He reaches down to massage your clit as he thrusts, every sensation in your body now overwhelmed.

“Oh fuck,” you moan - a little too loudly this time, as your pleasured sounds echo off the patio tiles and into the courtyard beyond. Every few thrusts he adds another inch inside you, slowly filling you completely - until finally, you feel his hips meet yours, his balls hitting your nethers.

Without realizing, you squeeze around him, and he groans out loud.

“I’m sorry Papa, did I -?”

“No, no cara that feels so good, please continue. You can practice contracting your pelvic floor muscles - Gesù Cristo! Ahh, that’s it Sorella, don’t stop!” He pants, riding through his building orgasm.

He continues massaging your clit, your climax coming soon, with his. He’s timing your breathing patterns perfectly - you feel so close. Your mouth opens but you can barely make a noise as your vision starts to go hazy. He pumps into you a final time, grunting into your shoulder. You both moan, panting, coming down from your peak, and lie exhausted in one another’s arms for a few moments.

“Should we go inside?” you ask, breaking the silence and looking up at him from resting your head on his chest.

“Let’s stay out here a bit longer,” he says, looking up at the stars above you while stroking your hair.

Italian to English Translations

- fragolina (little strawberry)

- cara (dear)

- bambolina (little doll)

- grazie (thank you)

- donzella (damsel)

- non è possibile (it’s not possible)

- coccinella (ladybug)

- capisci (do you understand)

- Ecco una brava ragazza (There’s a good girl)

- Che bel fiorellino (What a pretty flower)

- Sei la brava ragazza di Papa (You are Papa’s good girl)

- molto, molto bagnata (very, very wet)

- Non preoccuparti, cara mia (Don’t worry, my dear)

- Sei la ragione di ogni mio sorriso (You’re the reason for all my smiles)

- E anche tu sei importante per me… (And you are important to me too)

- Così bella (So beautiful)

- Gesù Cristo (Jesus Christ)

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band smut #papa emeritus x reader #ghost band fanfic #the band ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus i x reader #papa primo #peemo #kinktober 2023

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dead-dove-yandere · 22 days

Note

I don't know if requests are open. But what if Smiley is a woman who once hooked up with a reader who only had sex and casual encounters and then forgot about the person, but little did she know that her affair resulted in Smiley

Okay this was originally sent in before requests were open again and I was going to ignore it but I felt bad about deleting it because it seems as though you weren’t sure or confused. So I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and take a bit of time to re-explain rules surrounding requests before getting to your request.

The most up-to-date information regarding whether requests (as in, asking for a particular story) are open or closed will be in my bio, so it’s a good idea to check there first. I also put out posts when requests are opening or closing. However, asks are always open and you can send things that arent requests even when requests are closed. Basically, if you have a question or made something that you want to share, you can send that any time. But if you want to ask for a story then you should check the bio. :]

My pinned post has additional and more in depth rules and it gets updated sometimes so I recommend also checking that out right before sending anything through the ask box.

Anyway, onto the fun stuff!! This is going to be another one from Smiley’s POV.

TW: Stalking, obsession, vague allusions to casual sex, implied abusive, unsafe or otherwise unusual childhood, watching someone sleep, routing through another’s private belongings

They rolled over. Still asleep. Still undressed. The first time I’d seen a person undressed and it was fun - I didn’t realise that reproduction could be like that. I sat up in bed, staring at them, watching the rise and fall of their breathing. This truly was an invaluable learning experience - not only experiencing a reproduction attempt for the first time, but also, I was in their home, filled with all kinds of clues as to who they are. I slowly got out of the bed, taking great care not to awaken them as I scuttled over to the dresser. There were all kinds of things on there. Aerosols and tubs and tubes and boxes of various substances, all in the name of hygiene - a practice of keeping oneself clean and healthy. Now that I was an independent adult, alone in the world, no longer a juvenile coddled by some guardian, I struggled to keep up the many strange rituals that seemed imperative to fit in. I made a mental note of everything there - I wanted to try the same things for myself.

I moved to the nightstand, where I picked up their phone, tapping the metal and glass box to make it light up. It was difficult to navigate, but I figured it out, reading the messages. How strange! They knew so many people, it seemed. Not like me. There were people going by all kinds of strange names - Boss, Dad, Grandma, Landlord, Mum, Two Factor Authentication. I had never heard such names before now. Was this how people met each other? Did they write through the device? I wanted desperately a phone of my own so I could talk to people, but money was a difficult thing to scavenge. I turned the phone off and put it down.

It made a slight tap as it went on the dresser, and they stirred, beginning to wake. I leaned over them, my face close their ear.

“Shh. It’s alright, Lover. Rest,” I whispered, pressing my mouth to their ear in what I had learnt tonight was called a “kiss.” They grumbled sleepily before rolling over again and falling back into unconsciousness. I went to their wardrobe next, opening it up to have a look at the garments they chose to wear. There were a great variety, in many different lengths and colours and patterns, all shaped for different parts of the body. One seemed to be a covering for the back and arms, along which were little slits right about where the waist would be. I slipped my hand in curiously, only to find that the slit was a pouch attached inside the piece of clothing, and something was stored within. I took it out. A small rectangle of paper, stiff and thick, and written on it were strange words.

“A— Company. For job enquiries, telephone— or email—“

A job? Like a task to do? That sounded fun. I wanted a job too. I looked over at my lover, still sleeping. We’d mated. Bonded. We were together now, but how could I talk to him without a phone to send the messages? Maybe I should do their job too - then I could see them then. Maybe I’d even find some kind of paper to send my messages on instead and hand deliver them. Yes! That’s perfect!

This fitting in thing is easy.

Dividers Credit: See Pinned Post

#yancore #yandere #yandere blog #yandere fic #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere drabble #yandere oc x reader #Ask #Story #Dove Speaks #Smiley

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brainrotdotorg · 1 year

Text

sorry. thinking about piss and fuck again. gonna subject you to it.

when you love a niche-ish character you really have to scrape for content to learn anything at all about their personalities. as with every character, we are viewing them and the world through the lens of a cop-- of course people are going to interact with harry differently than they would with a friend or loved one. we dont get to really see who they truly are.

THANKFULLY our dumb boys are somehow both painfully sincere and also deeply ironic. so they have. entire fucking mission statements about who they are that can tell us a lot about how they view themselves and the world! a great source for learning more about them and i am gonna do a dive into it!!

here's piss's reasoning behind his name (all copied via fayde)

PISSF****T - "Well, first off, it's a statement and not *necessarily* something that characterizes me as a person, even though the statement has character. And I *do* like piss..."

[Og] *336.PISSF****T - "The word PISSF****T epitomizes the struggle taking place in the world, things being defined as they seem, not as they are. And -- I guess -- it's also about communal spirit, the future, and *truly* appreciating our differences."

[Og] *200.PISSF****T - "Also, you've got to admit, it catches the eye. And since the grand piper is slowly but steadily moving towards basing the economy on it -- attention -- it is imperative that the medium itself convey the message."

[Og] *235.YOU - "Ee... what?"

[Og] *177.PISSF****T - "What I mean by this is -- we are *all* Pissf****ts. And that the world is inherently meaningless."

thank you my boy youre such a genius. and here is fuck's:

FUCK THE WORLD - "I can answer that. Many men keep searching for *the one*. For so-called true love, which is actually just obsession masquerading as kinship. The thrill of the chase, the hollowness that fills your chest cavity after catching it."

[Og] *127.FUCK THE WORLD - "To catch a fish you need to hurl the lure many times, and even then it isn't certain that you'll get anything. If you blow up the lake, though..."

[Og] *40.YOU - "Blow it up!"

[Og] *364.FUCK THE WORLD - "...you get more fish in a shorter time. And, for time is of the essence and fleeting ever so quickly, one must think of a way to fuck the whole world -- and not get caught up in fucking some *one*."

[Og] *47.FUCK THE WORLD - "Because when one fucks everything, he fucks nothing. And that, to me, feels glorious -- sticking your dick into the void."

so what have we learned here!!

Piss believes:

it is a statement, not *necessarily something that characterizes him, though he is into piss (whether or not he's actually a faggot is still technically up in their air but. come on. yknow)

things are often defined as how they seem rather than how they are (public perception not aligning with the truth of a thing and how this is an inevitability)

in communal spirit, (community and unity)

the future, (vague but I guess uhhh he believes in a better one? he believes in A Future. thats nice)

truly appreciating our differences (explanatory. good for you piss, love thy neighbor and all that)

attention is the new currency, baby!! (also says 'the grand piper' sorry am i stupid what does that mean. what is up with your verbiage, girl. i love you.)

the world is meaningless! (seemingly anti-nihilistic approach about nothing meaning anything, with an emphasis on community and authenticity in a universe that means nothing rather than focusing on hopelessness)

Fuck believes:

"true love" is just obsession masquerading as kinship- probably some very cynical and pessimistic views on romance, believes also that its about the thrill of the chase and not the actual end result

(he believes in bad metaphors also. sorry buddy. i forgive you)

sees this chase as fruitless because you may not even end up with anything

life is short so get what you want as quickly as you can

generous interpretation. fish as representative of not only sexual partners but maybe opportunities? not getting caught up with just THE ONE and finding ways to have it all? (hedonism, question mark)

sticking your dick into the void. gotta give him credit there!! maybe some similarly aligned feelings with piss about nihilism? idk

non-monogamy is the way to go it seems!

(imo piss's statement of unity through the bizarre and pride in the perverse is a strong statement than sticking your dick into the void. not even saying that because i like him more. sorry fuck. maybe my interpretations are too charitable but I'm working with what I've got here!)

so today we've learned that piss is of the idea that things are not always what they seem, and the way to combat the common problem of making assumptions is to understand the differences of your fellow man and find what unity you can in an ultimately meaningless world.

and fuck is. a whore.?

jk fuck's philosophy is much more focused on romance and attraction than I remember it being but like... no it really is. about that. his thesis is basically about how there is no one SINGLE thing (or person) that will bring you satisfaction, so this life is all about getting what you can in the short amount of time you have. not bad!

i hope this read gives people a clearer idea on how i perceive them the way i do lol. these little mission statements are pretty telling of their character i wish everyone could give a little explanation like this of their philosophies . in the exact same stupid manner, preferably. if anybody has any other interpretations i would love to hear them

#disco elysium #pissfaggot #fuck the world

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dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night · 8 months

Text

Eden part nineteen

TW: trauma, bad mental health, Stockholm Syndrome, referenced captivity, referenced stalking, referenced major character death, pet whumpee, multiple caretakers

Note: This is the last of the "Ezra explaining what happened to him" chapters, because I believe in the rule of threes. His online friends get a much more vulnerable view into his mind than his roommates.

While rifling through his old things, trying to regain some semblance of himself, Ezra found his smartphone. It seemed insane that Christopher had returned it here while his roommates weren't home, but it would have been easy after getting Ezra's keys during the kidnapping. He had even bothered to plug it in.

The number of texts Ezra had received while missing was overwhelming, despite being solidily in the double digits. He ignored most of them in favor of messaging the only friends he actually trusted with any of this.

He dropped a text in the group chat. Just a simple "Hey bitches, I lived." He didn't have to wait long until his friends all messaged him back, despite their very separate time zones.

Isadora: 'sup biatch? missed u

Tristian: Oh my God! Are you okay?!

Rowan: oh hey ezra

Ezra: Don't worry. Don't worry. I just got kidnapped. Didn't have my phone for obvious reasons. I'm once again here to grace you with my presence.

Rowan: glad to see youre feeling okay

Tristan: YOU GOT KIDNAPPED

Ezra: I am physically unharmed and mentally destroyed. Thanks for checking in.

Isadora: moood

Tristan: What the hell happened? Tell me everything right this instant.

Ezra: Long message incoming-

Ezra took a moment to sort out exactly what he was going to say, typing and retyping the same message over and over again. He could always get his feelings across much better in text than in person. So much time to rehearse and fact check.

Ezra: I got kidnapped by a man named Christopher. He was in his fifties and lived in the woods. Then I got the usual stalker monolog about how much he loved me and wanted to keep me for himself. (Despite how stressed out I was, this made my NPD very happy) I settled down with him. It was genuinely such a blast. I was basically his pet cat. Don't worry, he wasn't weird or anything. It was totally platonic and you know that made my narcissistic aroace ass very happy. Well, I did think that I had fallen in love with him at one point. But he cleared that up pretty quick. (Clearing it up involved gaslighting but whatever) And I realized that it was just NPD fuelled platonic obsession making me jealous of his fiance. With me so far? - 👀²

Ezra was very aware that he had mentioned NPD three times in this text. But it was imperative that his friends understood this was the fault of his personality disorder, and not some flaw he could be judged for.

Rowan: when you said kidnapped i thought you meant held for ransom not… all that - 👆²

Isadora: im kinda jealous of u lolll

Tristian: Don't say stuff like that, Dora. This isn't funny.

Ezra: …it is kinda funny. How many times have I joked about wanting someone to care enough to stalk me, and it happened. Knock on enough doors asking to see the devil and he might answer and all that

Isadora: i was gonna say that lmao

Rowan: hey ezra, do you need anything? you okay?

Ezra: I just need to talk. Shelly and Harry were supremely unhelpful. Buckle up bitches, because it's only getting worse from here. - 🫂²

Tristan: IT GETS WORSE THAN STALKING AND KIDNAPPING

Ezra: You know it, my good dude.

Tristan: HOW COULD IT POSSIBLY GET WORSE

Tristan: EZRA I WORRY ABOUT YOU - 🤝³

Ezra: Haha me too

Ezra: Anyhow

Ezra: Christopher was engaged to this man named Colt, right? They didn't live together though. Colt was the most obnoxious asshole I've ever met. I don't think toxic masculinity does it justice. Christopher was literally the greatest person ever and he deserved much better than Colt. He was also keeping someone captive to torture them. They couldn't remember their own name so I started calling them Jay. They were in really bad shape, obviously. I tried taking care of them but obviously I couldn't do much. They're what really mentally destroyed me, not anything to do with how I was being treated. - 🫂³

Isadora: hoollyyy fuuckk

Tristian: This is absolutely insane. I'm so sorry you went through that. It sounds like the plot of a horror story, not something you should have to deal with in real life. If there is anything I can do to help, please tell me.

Ezra felt warmth spread from his heart to the rest of his body. Finally, someone had told him exactly what he had been fishing to hear. And he had hardly needed to manipulate them into it.

It wasn't his fault. He didn't deserve it. Colt was the one to blame for Jay's death, not him. His life had always been a bad horror story, and it did wonders to hear it confirmed by an outside observer.

Ezra: You guys are so nice. - 💚¹ 🖤¹ 💖¹

Isadora: well duh i love u

Rowan: we all love you

Tristan: That's right. And don't forget it.

Tristian: Now, are you going to call the police or is it too risky?

Ezra: Fun fact. Jay and Colt are dead. And obviously Christopher is wonderful so I don't want him thrown in jail. I'm hoping he takes me back but I accidentally ran away when I was freaked out about Jay's death, so he might be mad at me.

Isadora: :(((

Tristan: I know you're dealing with a lot. But you need to move on. You were kidnapped. You need to try to be your own person again.

Ezra: But have you considered that. I. Don't. Want. To.

Isadora: fair

Tristian: No. Not "fair". Ezra, you can't spend the rest of your life as the victim.

Ezra: I've spent the last twenty-three years doing just that. Self victimization is an art form that I have perfected to a science.

Rowan: this isnt self victimization. some body else victimized you.

Ezra: hmmmmmm

Ezra: Less work for me then!!

Isadora: agahshsjsjdgaafdsgxbzfafs

Tristan: This is not funny.

Tristan: I believe in you, Ezra. Please believe in yourself. You can have a good life if you just try. You don't need the validation of your stalker. What you do need is time to yourself to recover from the impact Jay's death had on you.

Rowan: seconded

Isadora: dont leave us again dude

Isadora: we missed u

Ezra: It's my choice and my life. I was happier with Christopher than I've ever been with anyone else. Now that Colt and Jay are dead, there's nothing in the way of us being happy again.

Tristan: Ezra, listen.

Ezra: No. You're going to listen to me.

Ezra: You guys just don't get it. I want someone to want me. More than anything. Fucking hell, I've never even met any of you irl, and you're my best friends. I don't really have anyone. Of course I'm willing to excuse kidnapping and shit. I got everything I ever wanted in life, and I didn't have to work for it. I was fucking loved.

Rowan: im sorry

Tristan: Thank you for saying that. It's really important to get your feelings out. But I think that if you really want to be around this Christopher, you need to be on equal footing. Meet up in public. Don't go home with him until you have a chance to know who he is when he doesn't have control over your life.

Ezra threw his phone at the wall. Why was Tristan being so damn condescending? Would it hurt him to be nice?

Well, okay, Tristan hadn't actually been condescending. But someone other than Ezra being right when he was wrong always felt condescending, regardless of actual intentions.

Tristan's plan sounded good though. Ezra might have to try it. He quite wanted to get coffee with Christopher. If only he could find him.

Taglist: @hugh-lauries-bald-spot @thedarkmongoose @whumpsday @whump-by-robin @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @annablogsposts @whumpshaped @seetheothersideofparadise @knittedeyebrowsandcardigans @whatwasmyprevioususername @boonasaurusrex @suspicious-whumping-egg @heavenlyeden @melancholy-in-the-morning @snakebites-and-ink @suck-my-clit-loser @i-eat-worlds @scp-1296 @chiswhumpcorner @skittles-the-whumpee @whumpkinz @dokidokisadness @enbygesserit @canislycaon24 @be-gay-do-crime-ahaha @a-crumb-of-whump

#Abraham original: Hot off the press #Eden #Whump #Pet whump #Caretaking #Pet whumpee #Multiple caretakers #Modern whump #Whump series

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vladajwrites · 1 year

Text

Razor’s Edge

Chapter Five || Chapter Six || Chapter Seven

Also available to be read on AO3, here

WC; 6109

Notes;

this chapter includes particularly dark themes, it is of the utmost importance for me to remind you to please check trigger warnings again if needed. sorry for the delay in updating! this chapter was especially difficult for me to write, i will say that good things are on the way but this story will continue on track with its darker themes.

with that, all the love in the world xx

(Not Beta Read)

The sliver of heaven you shared with Charlie was all you had to hold on to. The autumn air was growing bitter and cold at a head splitting pace.

Friday morning came with a sharp dose of reality, pulling you from your thoughts that had, for the better part, been consumed by Charlie.

It was the early hours of the morning; the sun had only begun to rise. You were in bed all alone, awoken by the deafening buzz of your phone’s ringer.

You scrambled straight upwards, searching for your phone in the mess of your sheets, subconsciously searching for Charlie’s body besides you as well. This had been the first night this week that he had not spent beside you.

You mumbled, finding your phone, answering it without looking at the caller ID. Your eyes were heavy and still half clouded with sleep.

The half-hearted sedation was quickly shaken out of you as your aunt’s frantic voice came through in the other line.

“Oh my God, Oh my God! You’re okay!” Irina sobbed in relief.

Your entire body stiffened in an instant, as though a bolt of lightning held you straight up in bed. You pulled your phone away from your face placing the call on speakerphone, now seeing the previous missed calls and voicemails your aunt had left you prior flash on your home screen.

You could barely make out your own voice over the now deafening drum of your heartbeat. “Yes, I’m okay. I’m so sorry I missed your calls. What happened?”

Your stomach had already begun twisting itself up in knots, you subconsciously knew what must’ve transpired.

The line was silent for a moment; you understood that you were both just trying to find the right words to say.

“Do you know who it was?” You whispered. You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to know. There was only one reason she must have called you so frantically and so early; another murder had taken place in Woodsboro.

Your aunt’s voice was muffled as she answered.

“What?” You croaked out.

She spoke the name again. Still, it was entirely too surreal. You couldn’t have caught it without asking her to speak again.

“No…” you stated, “who was it?” the tears were now steadily pricking up against your lash line.

“Scott Anderson. Did you know him? He was in your grade. Oh, dochka. I’m moving my flight. I’ll be home as soon as possible. I promise. I’m so sorry…”

You were swept through a wind tunnel, head blaring at her words. Her voice just seemed to ramble on and on into a catatonic hum.

Anderson? Dead? Murdered?

You couldn’t recall what you said afterwards. Couldn’t recall the end of the phone call. Couldn’t recall how you pulled yourself out of bed and made your way into the parking lot of Woodsboro High School.

You had hardly known the first two girls who were murdered, but knew from others that they were good, that they were decent people. You tried your hardest to convince yourself that they must’ve been targeted, specifically, for some unknown reason. But their murders must have been isolated. Right?

“The Woodsboro Senior, captain of the football team, Scott Anderson, was found butchered, gutted, in the early hours of this morning. This brutal murder can now be reasonably placed in correlation to the murders of two Woodsboro girls who had been killed just days prior.”

A female newscaster’s voice spoke from somewhere behind you as you pushed your way through the growing crowd that had formed outside of the school.

“It is now more apparent than ever that Ghostface has returned to Woodsboro. Their clear motive is still unavailable at this time.” The newscaster continued as you moved just out of earshot.

It was undeniable now; you had tired your very hardest until this point to deny it.

You dropped your things onto the floor beside your first period desk.

You couldn’t pay any attention to the surrounding students, to Kirby, or Jill.

You didn’t know what you needed, didn’t know what to do. You sat paralyzed until the first bell rang out around you.

You couldn’t get the image out of your head. The newscaster’s words buzzed in your mind. ‘Gutted.’ ‘Butchered.’

You gripped the corners of your desk with white knuckles, watching the clock tick onwards as the pit grew in your stomach.

You did your best to hold it all together until the feeling of nausea sent you up from your desk before the class was even dismissed.

You ran to the bathroom towards the end of the hall, falling to your knees in the stall, letting the contents of your stomach fall from you like loose change in your pockets.

After you spent minutes dry heaving above the toilet, you sat back against the cool tiled walls, pulling your knees into your chest.

You were sick.

So sick.

But it wasn’t the thought of Scotty begging for his life, or the thought of his insides turned outwards that caused this feeling alone.

It was the fact that the thought of all of this brought you so much relief, alongside a feeling of twisted vindication. You were quick up onto your knees again, retching.

You sat there on the bathroom floor until well into second period.

You forced the thoughts away, trying your best to clear your mind. Anderson was gone. There was a serial killer somewhere close whose motives and next course of action were completely unknown. There was nothing you could do about any of it besides pull yourself up and be strong.

You were standing in front of the bathroom mirror, rinsing your mouth out thoroughly when you heard your phone buzz in your back pocket.

You used your elbow to wipe your face in lieu of a paper towel and reached for your phone.

A message from Irina appeared. “The earliest I could change my flight was for Sunday morning. Less than two days, love, I’ll be home soon.”

You cleared your throat, typing your response. “Okay, I’ll be okay.”

You were sure you must be okay. Your aunt would be home within the next few days. And maybe you wouldn’t have to spend the nights alone. You could always invite Charlie to stay again. Charlie-

How could you have not spoken to him yet today?

You couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to stay again last night. You knew he had things to attend to in the home he was responsible for. He hadn’t pushed to stay either, you had assumed he also did not want to overstay his welcome. There was no welcome he could possibly overstay with you, but you knew he was trying to be respectful.

But, with another murder, you were certain you’d both finally be on the same page that it wasn’t smart or safe for either of you to be alone.

You went to call Charlie but immediately ended it after the first ringer tone played through.

‘Idiot.’ You murmured to yourself. He was surely still in class, just like the rest of the student body, unlike you were.

You looked yourself over in the mirror. Your eyes were bloodshot, skin sallow and pale from the episode you had just pushed through. This wasn’t a good look for anybody.

If there were any day to just go home and lock the doors behind you, it was this one.

You fixed yourself as best as you could, adjusting the hemline of your shirt, splashing cool water over your warm face once more.

You pulled out your phone again to send Charlie a message before exiting the bathroom.

“I’m going home for the day. Not feeling well, please let me know if you’re okay. Call me after school.”

You sent the message, shoving your phone back into your pocket and pushing open the bathroom door.

The hallways were a cruel and cold sort of empty. You kept your eyes glued to the ground, kept your body close to the lockers that lined the walls.

All you could hear was the dull hum of the fluorescent lighting above as you rounded the corner that led to the exit of the building, until-

Familiar voices reached your ears before you could make out the words they were saying. You spotted the familiar frame of Jill’s back towards you. She was speaking to someone in a small nook in the hallway. It wasn’t until you were nearly right beside Jill that you made out who she was speaking to-

“No, no. I’m done Jill.” Such a familiar voice. Even though hushed and barely audible, you could’ve recognized it anywhere. “Please.” It was Charlie.

Your heart skipped into your throat as you caught his line of sight.

His eyes were deep red, black circles laced tearfully under his waterline.

You couldn’t have spoken up if you had found the words.

He immediately stiffened as he realized you were passing by in front of him, as though you were the last possible person he could’ve expected to see.

You must’ve only held his gaze for a second. A minute.

You couldn’t have been sure.

Jill’s head snapped back to face you as your hands met the school entrance’s steel handles. Her expression overflowed with sickly venom.

Click.

You were out of the school within a second.

‘Done?’ Done with what?

Your head felt as though it had been crushed and spun by a mallet.

What could that have possibly meant?

You had no idea they even spoke to each other anymore. Charlie had made it seem as though they hadn’t kept in contact in years. And what could he have meant by ‘done?’

Your feet carried you forward mechanically, left-right-left-right.

You weren’t sure why your eyes were welling with tears.

You could hear your name being called out from somewhere behind you.

Click.

You slammed your car door behind you, peeling out of the parking lot as quickly as you could possibly have had.

What could he possibly have been speaking about with her?

The thought of it nearly sent you spiraling again. It’d be a lie to say that you hadn’t almost had to pull over a number of times to empty your stomach all over again.

Was he seeing her? Was he telling her that he was done, done with whatever relationship they had formed?

You knew they weren’t friends. You would’ve seen them talking more, he would’ve mentioned it if that were true.

You slammed your front door behind you, stumbling up the steps to your bedroom.

It was just too much. You needed a second, a single second, to just pretend that this day had never happened.

Your phone began to ring, over and over and over again.

You knew who it must’ve been without checking the Caller ID.

You’d call him back later, you just needed a minute to try to sort this all out.

You turned off your phone, curling up in your bed below you, rocking yourself to dispel the thoughts of the day.

You weren’t sure when you had eventually drifted off into a sickly and disturbing daytime slumber.

In your dreams, you stood above Anderson’s body. You watched intently as he cowered in fear below you.

There was something sick there. Something that built and consumed you.

You had all of the control.

It was power.

There was a sudden sense of starvation for it as you thought back to the horrible things Scotty had said and done to you.

The twist of the blade in his stomach, the smile you felt on your face as you cut him again, and again.

A familiar coo could be heard behind you, somewhere in the distance. The voice praised you, instructed you on how to twist the hilt of your knife.

The familiar figure grew warm, traced its hands along your waist as you slashed the man who had previously made you feel so weak and powerless.

“Just like that doll, so perfect.” Charlie whispered behind you, urging you to turn and face him as your knife caught in Anderson’s chest.

You let the handle go, face contorting in pleasure as you watched Anderson’s breathing grow shallow.

You turned to face Charlie then, turned to return the kisses he placed gently alongside your neck. It was bliss.

You had never felt so strong as he carefully guided you and urged you on. You had never felt so safe and protected as you had in that moment. It was real to you. It was so incredibly real.

Click.

You shot up in bed. Chest heaving, hands grasping at your throat to try to catch your breath as the dream you had just had replayed itself over quickly in your mind. You were drenched in sweat; the room spun and shrunk around you.

The sun had set, you couldn’t have possibly made an accurate guess at the time.

You brought your hands down in front of you, your fingers trembled as you searched for blood you knew realistically could not be there under the dim lighting of the lamp on your desk.

You sat there for a moment, eyes glued to the ceiling, adjusting in the dark. A burn in your throat sent you carefully out of bed.

It seemed as though every sound was amplified as you crept to your bathroom down the hall.

You tore out of your damp clothing that clung and suffocated you, dropping it all in a disregarded pile on the tile flooring. You turned on the shower faucet, allowing the water to cool as much as possible.

You stood under the steady stream. The icy water was a needed comfort. You held your mouth open, swallowing the water until it made your stomach heavy.

You nearly fell back against the shower floor, pulling your knees into your chest again, letting the frigid water shock away any horrible thoughts that could cling to your mind.

After an indescribable amount of time had passed, you worked slowly, lathering soap across your body and through your hair. Your nails scraped and scratched across your skin in the process.

After getting yourself together as best as you could manage, you made your way back into bed.

You grabbed your phone, knowing it was time to face Charlie. You weren’t sure what you would say to him, he had left you more missed calls and text messages than you could easily count.

The phone rang, rang, and continued to ring until you were sent to his voicemail box.

You pulled the phone away from your face, ending the call. ‘Strange.’ You hummed to yourself.

You called him back again. You were met by his voice mail, again.

Your fingers hovered over your keyboard as you thought up what to say.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I am ready to talk. Please call me back ASAP.”

You sighed, setting your phone back down on your chest.

The house was so quiet, you could make out the distinct sound of the crickets outside. The noise of your stomach groaning in hunger was quick to fill the air. You pushed yourself up and out of bed, sliding your phone into the waistband of the shorts you had put on after your shower.

There was no point in waiting around, starving, for Charlie to get back to you. You prayed that this was all just a simple misunderstanding, something he could easily explain. You refused to let yourself dwell on any other explanation.

You just hoped he’d get back to you quickly, the thought of going to bed tonight entirely alone after yet another murder sent a chill up your spine, made the dread build up inside you.

You rounded the top landing of the staircase, the far-off dim lighting of the kitchen illuminated your way down the steps.

You had just nearly come into view of the entryway when your heart skipped up into your throat.

The front door was opened just a sliver of the way, just enough so that you wouldn’t have noticed it if you hadn't been paying careful attention.

You froze immediately, all of your senses heightened at once as you tried to steady and conceal your breathing.

You could’ve sworn you had closed it on your way in.

A terrible thought hit you then. Had you forgotten to lock it in your hurried daze to find some semblance of solace in your bedroom?

You listened as hard as you could for any sound that seemed out of place, searched for anything else that seemed out of the ordinary.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there in silence. You debated running back up into your bedroom, debated making a run for the front door.

But if someone would have come in… you would have heard them, surely, right?

Right?

You took an unsteady step forward, wincing as you heard the step creak below you.

“Hell- hello.” You called out, cleaning your throat.

You waited for another moment for a response.

“If there’s someone here, show yourself.” You took another step forward until you reached the entryway, your eyes quickly darted around as you reached for a candleholder that sat on the entryway table.

Nothing.

Complete and total silence.

After another moment, you sighed in relief, placing the candle holder back on the table and hurriedly shutting the door the rest of the way. You made sure to slide the lock shut this time.

You must not have closed the door like you believed you had. You scolded yourself for being so reckless. You had to be more careful than this.

Your stomach was still in knots as you made your way towards the kitchen. You were just on edge, that was all.

Click.

You processed the feeling of your phone slipping from your waistband and the sound it made falling to the floor and just out of reach before you processed the sudden overbearing feeling of a figure pressed up behind you.

You processed the feeling of a heavy and strong arm draped around and in front of your chest, holding you in place tightly and without room to writhe away before you noticed the sharp, nearly piercing, cold blade against your neck.

Silence.

This couldn’t be happening.

A thousand thoughts seemed to pass through your mind in an instant.

This was it.

It was all over.

You imagined Irina coming home to find your lifeless body in the hallway beside the living room, the room where you had shared so many of your most precious memories with her.

You imagined Kirby’s reaction when she learned the news of your passing.

Imagined how this would make Charlie feel-

Charlie…

Oh God, you would never see his face again; be in his arms again. You said a silent prayer that he wouldn’t hold himself responsible for any of this. You wished you wouldn’t have ignored his calls earlier in the day, you wished more than anything that his last memories of you alive would have been of something good. It all seemed so meaningless now.

You wished you could have just told him you loved him one last time.

You were truly just so grateful in that moment that he was not there, that he would not have to face the same fate you were about to.

Your eyes welled over with tears, the surrounding air had long been sucked away. You were standing in an empty vacuum of time and space.

The fear you held was quickly consumed by resignation and peace. There would be no fighting your way out of this.

You sucked in what you assumed would be your final breath. The first tear slipped down your face, you waited, waited for the searing pain that was bound to come.

Only it never came at all. The grip around you tightened incrementally, if only for a second longer, before disappearing all together.

You heard a heavy thud behind you as the assailant fell to their knees.

You coughed and sputtered as you realized what had just happened. You scrambled for the knife that laid in front of you, your adrenaline now kicking into high gear.

You held up the knife and spun to face the masked figure that knelt in front of you.

You watched with shaking hands and blurred vision as a dark gloved hand came up to rip off the Ghostface mask to be thrown across the hall.

The sight that unfolded in front of you was more horrible than anything you could have prepared yourself for.

“No…” Your voice cracked on your words.

Charlie sat before you. The tears streaked down his face in a constant stream, his hands grabbed through his hair before falling back at his sides in resignation.

“I can’t do it, fuck I can’t do this.” He spoke more to himself than you. It nearly seemed as though he was begging you to do something, anything.

You couldn’t even begin to process the emotions that took hold of you at that moment.

Charlie went to move closer to you, you instinctively held the blade tighter pointed towards him in response.

He looked so incredibly pained by your movements.

“Get the fuck away from me.” You spat between broken breaths.

Charlie Walker was the murderer who terrorized Woodsboro. And what was worse, you had trusted him. You loved him. Loved a killer.

And now he was here, to hurt you. To kill you. In a single instant, he had destroyed every shred of faith you had in him.

The entire rug of reality was swept from underneath your feet in one swift motion.

He shifted backwards, putting more space between you in some sort of offer of comfort.

He raised his hands above his head, grimacing as he watched you flinch.

“Please, you have to kill me. Please, I can’t hurt you. I can’t do this anymore. I’m begging you.” Charlie’s voice was just above a whisper. You could tell he was trying to hold it together as best as possible. He was failing miserably.

The entire room seemed to tilt and turn upside down and back again at his words.

What did he mean by this? Kill him? He had come here to kill you.

The sincerity in his tone and expression as he softly pleaded with you over and over broke you completely apart again.

Could you do it? Could you really kill him?

Your grip on the knife faltered for a moment as you looked him over.

“What are you talking about, Charlie?” You begged, you wished he could give you some sort of explanation for all of this.

He shook his head violently, you could tell each second that passed brought him even more pain.

“I couldn’t let her do it. I couldn’t…” He continued, catching on his own words.

“Her?” Your eyes were wild now, your mind worked at breakneck speed, trying to puzzle this all together.

“She didn’t give me a choice, she decided you had to be next. I couldn’t let her… If she would have been the one to get her hands on you,” Charlie continued, seemingly ignoring your question. “I thought I could at least make it painless, take away any of your suffering. But I can’t, it has to be me. If you kill me, there will be too many eyes on you. There won’t be any way she could touch you then. You’d be safe.” He spoke in rapid succession.

It hit you then, Jill’s expression earlier that day in the hallway, the conversation you had overheard, the both of their absences that night of the party when the first murders had taken place.

Clang.

The knife slipped from your hands as you went nearly completely slack at the realization.

Jill and Charlie, working together, murdering together. She had decided you were to be their next kill.

“With Jill?” Your lip quivered at the question. He nodded, you already knew the answer.

You dropped to your knees in front of Charlie.

Your vision went in and out, dark and light splotches clouded your line of sight. You could barely make out Charlie’s figure or voice just in front of you.

This couldn’t be happening.

“I didn’t have time to plan, I would’ve gotten you to safety. I would’ve turned myself in. I had no choice but to come tonight, come when I did. She thinks I’ve told you something, that you know something about all of this. She decided today, she would’ve come if I hadn’t begged her to be the one to do it instead. All I could think about was keeping you out of as much pain as I could.”

You could hardly understand what he was saying. He took a deep breath, steadying himself before continuing.

He wiped away at his tears, composing himself before speaking again. “But now I see. You have to be the one to kill me, she’ll let you go then. She’ll have to.”

“No…” You murmured. How could you bring yourself to do something so horrible?

How could he have been involved in these crimes? The man in front of you now seemed entirely transformed from the sweet boy you once imagined.

You thought back though, carefully, on the story about his father, that night he had stepped in between you and Anderson. You had so many questions; it was right in front of you all this time.

“Please, doll. You have to do it.” He was growing increasingly desperate.

You shook your head again. If he were truly just a monster, truly just began all of this because it was something he wanted to do; then maybe you could choose your life over his own. There had to be more than this, though. There had to be a reason behind this all.

“How did this all begin, Charlie? I mean, was any part of you that you’ve shown me even real? If you tell me the truth…” you paused for a moment, swallowing hard, eyes flicking between the discarded blade and Charlie’s gaze. “I’ll do what you want.”

He took a deep breath, nodding, easing back a bit more.

You tried to keep yourself as composed as you could possibly manage in that moment. You made sure to settle on your knees with easy access to the blade if you needed it at any time. Something in his expression calmed your nerves, even if only slightly.

If he had complete intentions of harming you, he would have done so when he had total control, right? You could allow him to explain all of this.

He cleared his throat before speaking. “I just want you to know that this, us, is real. I do love you. I’ve always meant that.”

You bit your lip hard, nodding, urging him to continue.

“The story about my father was true. I did murder him to save my mother and I. Jill was the only one who knew, and she…” He paused for a moment, eyes dropping to the ground. “We lost contact after everything had transpired years ago. It wasn’t until this summer that she approached me, told me her plan.”

“What plan, Charlie?” You were trying your hardest to process and retain all the information he was sharing with you.

He inhaled deeply. “I’m sure you know by now who her aunt is.”

You nodded yes, Sidney Prescott. But wouldn’t her relation to Sidney make her a likely victim of all of this? How could she resort to perpetuating a nightmare her aunt had survived years ago?

As though Charlie understood your confusion without having to voice it, he continued. “She is tired of living in her aunt’s shadow. She wanted the fame. She wanted to be the perfect victim.”

You felt your face twist in disgust and horror.

“And you… you’re doing this to help her… become famous? Are you doing this because you want the fame too?” Your voice raised as you questioned him. You subconsciously shifted closer to the knife.

Charlie looked devastated at your words, as though he felt entirely ashamed that you could assume so low of him.

He shook his head vehemently. “No, no. Not at all. When she first told me her plan, I laughed in her face. I didn’t think she was serious. But she- she grew angry, told me I didn’t have any other option but to help her in all of this.”

“What do you mean? You didn’t have a choice?” You questioned him, not fully believing what he was telling you. He had to have had some other option than to resort to planned murder.

“What I didn’t know before all of this, she had recorded the phone call I had made to her after my father’s death. She had proof that I had planned to do it. She said if helped her, she would delete the evidence. When I told her no again, told her I’d rather turn myself in…” the tears began to run down his face again. “She threatened my mother, and I knew she meant it.”

You sat in stunned silence. How could she be so cruel? So calculating? She would’ve turned him in if he refused, then with him behind bars she would’ve murdered his own mother. You wouldn’t have ever imagined her capable of this.

You weren’t sure why you trusted Charlie at this moment, but you believed him, wholeheartedly.

“That was months ago now, when the school year started, I still had hope that she would let this all go. But she only grew more obsessive. I should’ve known better. I should’ve stayed away from you. I almost didn’t go through with those first murders that night of the party, but…”

He held your gaze intently, you hadn’t realized just how long you’d been holding your breath.

“But what, Charlie?” You knew the answer already.

“She threatened you.” His voice cracked on his last word.

“She promised me that you’d be safe through all of this. She promised me that you would be off limits.”

He couldn’t stop himself from grabbing you in his arms then, pulling you closer to his chest. You shivered at his touch, only you couldn’t pull away, couldn’t bring yourself to love an inch away from him.

“I’m so sorry, I know you’ll never be able to forgive me, never be able to remember me the same way. I’m so, so sorry. I love you more than life itself, and I’m the reason you were ever in any danger at all.”

You were in shock, complete and utter shock. You knew something had been going on with him. You had no idea how much he was hurting, how much he was carrying. He’d done this all to protect his mother, he’d done this all for you.

And now…? It couldn’t all be for nothing. It couldn’t end like this. That evil, manipulating bitch has used and abused Charlie into nothingness with complete disregard.

You knew he meant what he said, could read him like a book. He would never hurt you, would choose your own life and well-being over even his peace of mind. She destroyed your sweet boy, used his most traumatic experiences against him to bend him to her will, knowing he’d comply for the people he loved.

Your hurt and terror and confusion was slowly but surely bubbling up into something dark, something you had never felt before. It was rage, murderous rage.

Your face contorted, the tears that streaked your face grew hot against your skin and dried completely.

You pulled away from Charlie, holding both of his shoulders in your hands. Your face was just inches in front of his own.

“We have to end this.” You spoke with more determination than you had ever spoken with before.

Your expression was drawn in shrewd control as your growing plan developed in your thoughts. Your solution and way out was decided at that moment.

Charlie seemed equally surprised and confused by both your sudden actions and words.

“What do you mean?” He asked, trying to steady his voice to meet your focus. You could tell your idea had not yet been thought up by him.

Your lips twitched upwards cruelly, as if you were about to recite some sick joke. “We have to kill her, Charlie.”

He shook his head, eyes widening in disbelief. “No, no. If we both live tonight, she will know for certain that you know. You will be in even more danger, I’m the one who has to die.”

Your smile widened. You could both come out of this. You knew you found your only other option.

“No, see,” you grabbed the blade in one hand while forcing the hilt into Charlie’s grasps with the other. He seemed in pain to even be holding it. “If you just make it look like you tried, like you tried to kill me, she won’t suspect anything. It’ll at least buy us time, Charlie, to figure out a real plan.”

He looked at you in disbelief, the disbelief was quickly overshadowed by realization as you gently guided his hand upwards until the tip of the knife pressed against the small space below your shoulder.

“No, baby, I can’t hurt you.” He was so sincere, so gentle.

You would need time to process this, need time to heal. But at this very moment, neither of you had the gift of another option that didn’t result in certain death and time was ticking by.

He had done so much for you, because he loved you.

It was your turn to return the favor. You would do this because you loved him, you would truly die for him, die to bring some safety and peace back into his life.

“Please, if you help, just here,” you shoved the knife forwards a bit until it just pierced your skin through your t-shirt. You both winced at the contact. “It will be done and over quickly. I’ll phone the police as soon as you leave.”

You tried your best to be convincing that this plan would work.

He knew this was the only way, completely hated himself for it all. You could read it all in his expression. If he took your place here, it would be too obvious that he was involved.

You wrapped both hands around his own and held the blade even tighter. He needed the reassurance more than you did.

“I’ll be okay, I promise. No vital organs here.” You tried to laugh, giving him a sorrowful half smile.

His lip quivered, eyes darting between you and the blade quickly before landing steadily and softly on your face.

You leaned forward, pressing your lips against his own. The kiss was so incredibly gentle, it was the kind you knew you’d never experience again.

He kissed you back, running his free hand gently over the back of your head.

“I love you Charlie.” You whispered, inching forward even closer.

“I love you, more than life itself.” He replied earnestly.

With that, you pushed his hands forward with all your might.

White, scalding, blinding pain.

You couldn’t hold back the throat tearing scream that escaped from between your lips.

Charlie removed the blade quickly as your hands fell to your sides.

He recited a string of obscenities and ‘I love you’s’ as he took such gentle care to lower you to the ground.

He stood, you could barely focus on his frame in front of you.

He knelt down one more time, kissing across your lips and face. “I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

He wouldn’t let go, you knew this was killing him. It was killing you.

“Go, I’ll be okay.” You stated as firmly as possible, time was of the essence.

His lip quivered as he stepped back, quickly grabbing his discarded mask and blade.

You reached for your phone that laid right beside your fingertips and dialed the numbers 911. You could hardly bring yourself to answer the operator’s questions. You pressed your hands tightly to the wound as your vision came in and out in darkening waves.

You willed your eyes open to watch Charlie walk out of the home through the front door until he disappeared, closing it behind him.

The last thing you could recall before slipping into unconsciousness was the familiar blare of sirens and flashing lights coming through the bay window.

You could only pray that this plan would be enough, even just for now, even just to buy some time, to ensure safety.

It just had to be enough.

#fanfiction #fanfic #charlie walker #charlie walker fanfic #charlie walker fanfiction #charlie walker x reader #charlie walker x y/n #scream 4 fanfic #charlie walker smut #fanfiction author #rory culkin fanfic #rory culkin fanfiction #razor’s edge

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can-of-pringles · 4 months

Text

When I'm Alone with You - Chapter 15

Rating: Gen

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Things have been out of sorts in the Ministry ever since Sister Imperator's accident.