#no and it kills me bc i was four points away from an a

[dorkylittleweirdo]

me about to email my professor for the third time this week despite class being over

[alluralater]

your new avatar AHHH i luv u <3

you are so sweet! it’s an old pic from like three or four months ago and i’ll be using it as a placeholder until i take some new hot ones. i have options currently but i have no clue which one to pick. i’d ask my cutiepie to choose but she is asleep and hopefully having the loveliest of dreams.

[yeonzzzn]

wanna be the sequel: sim jaeyun

part two of chilling & killing 🔪 | spotify playlist

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 11.6k

synopsis: you decide to keep jake’s secret of him being the mysterious ghost face killer, always taking up for him and playing dumb to the cases. but as jake’s love for you starts to overpower him and blurs his lines, his killer instinct reaches new heights.

genre: situationship, ghostface!jake, journalist!reader, smut.

warnings: swearing, jake is fucking insane, blood & m*rder, reader has a dream of being k!lled, knife play, fingering, oral (m. rec), cum eating, multiple unprotective sex scenes, one public sex scene bc jake got jealous, reader gets fucked against a mirror, reader gets cut at some point, if I missed everything please let me know!

His smirk sent chills down your spine as he buried himself deep within you, one hand was on your neck and the other squeezed the plush of your thighs. His thrusts were rough and relentless, that evil smirk growing wider and wider as the clock ticked along. 

“I’ve dreamt of this,” he cooed, cock twitching against your walls, “Fucking you to death, it’s so hot.” 

His hand left your thigh, and where it went, you had no idea. You just knew his thrusts were now sloppy and his cum was filling you whole. 

“Hmmm, so pretty,” he cooed again, breathing hard after his release, an unbearable amount of pain now being felt at your side, “So pretty with how you bleed out for me.” 

You looked to your left, seeing his knife pushed between your skin and your blood gushing onto the handle, his hand, and the floor. 

You gasped for air, tears swelling your eyes as you looked up at him, begging for him to stop.  

“Awe, sweet baby,” he slowly pulls the knife out of your side, bringing it up to his face, “Your blood is pretty too, everything about you is so pretty.” 

You tried to pull yourself up, to throw him off you, but your body weighed millions, arms like lead. 

He presses the tip of his knife to your bare chest, aiming right atop your heart, “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to kill you, feeling your blood on my hands,” he slowly pushed the knife in, and your gasps came in a rush and slowly dragged. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Sweet honey, so pretty even when you’re dying.” 

He laughs. You blinked at him as the tears fell down your cheeks, taking one final breath and everything turning black. 

You shot straight up in your bed, hands reaching for your chest and side, not feeling the wounds. It was just a dream…just a dream. 

Sweat droplets slid down your face and you wiped them away with the back of your hands. The cool air of your apartment helped cool you off from the dream. Creating goosebumps on your skin. 

The dream. Where was Jake?

You looked to your left, seeing his side of the bed empty, “Jake?” you called out, your heart racing faster, “Jaeyun?” 

You glanced at the chair in the corner of the room, seeing his duffle bag still there, the ghost face mask hanging from the top of the chair, staring directly back at you. His side of the bed was cold, proving he’d been gone for a while, “Jake?” you called out again, the silence was starting to make you go crazy, crazier than you already were for homing a serial killer. 

You had feelings for him, despite everything he has done and will do. You wanted to fix him, praying that having him by your side twenty-four-seven was doing the trick, even if it was a little at a time. 

But you started to panic, slowly starting to crawl out of bed when your bedroom door opened and your heart stopped. 

“You called for me, honey?” Jake asked with a quart of cherry vanilla-swirled ice cream in his hands and a spoon hanging from his mouth. You stared at him, not knowing what to make of this. He looks down at the quart in his hands and back up at you, “I was craving a late-night snack.” 

How was the man in front of you a serial killer? How was he clinically insane and batshit crazy, but craved ice cream? Being so soft and gentle at this moment. You’d never guessed he’d murdered so many people. 

Jake pulled the spoon from his mouth and reached it back into the quart, “Want some?” 

You shrugged but nodded, might as well right? 

With a cute smile on his face, he sits down on the bed in front of you and scoops up the creamy goodness, and holds it to your mouth, “Say ah!” 

You let him feed you, feeling your heartwarming by how cute he was right now. How…angelic he was. Jake’s happy expression quickly changes to a concerned one, “Honey, what’s wrong?” He sat the ice cream down on the nightstand table and placed his cold hands on your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears you didn’t realize were still there, “talk to me.” 

You didn’t know how to tell him you dreamed of him killing you. Mostly when nearly two months ago he was so willing to slice your throat open on your kitchen floor. “It was just a bad dream.” 

Jake pouts, “My sweet baby,” he lays down beside you and pulls you to his chest, cuddling you close to him, “I’m sorry, want to talk about it?” 

You shook your head, wrapping your arm around his waist, “I just want to be close to you, it’s helping. I promise.” 

Jake pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what you dreamt of. The look on your face gave it away. Jake expected it, honestly. He almost killed you, so you have a very valid reason for having such horrid dreams as that. Jake couldn’t lie, he wanted nothing more than to slice his knife across certain parts of your body to watch you bleed, but not kill you. How could he kill the love of his life?

He held you close, listening to the sound of your breathing and how it slowed down as you drifted back off to sleep. He slowly traced his thumb up and down your back, his eyes locking onto his mask hanging from the chair, and a smirk spread on his lips. 

It was almost time. 

—

You leaned against the table, crossing your arms and staring at the corkboard. Eyes tracing along the red thread that connected each murder case. The murder cases against Ghost Face…against Jake. You mindlessly kept your eyes tracing, acting like you were busy trying to figure it out, acting like you normally would on any other day. It’s been a rough couple of months of lying to the rest of your club, that’s for sure. How did Jake do it this whole time? 

“YN!!” You whip your head around to the new recruit of the club, seeing her bright cute smile as she walks up to you, and then look at the board, “You’ve been staring for a while, find any new clues?” 

Danielle Marsh, a freshman and such a sweet girl who came from Australia on a journalism scholarship and has the brains—and the grades—to make it big one day. She is just as invested in the Ghost Face murders almost as much as you were. Lying to such a sweet soul every day was heartbreaking. 

“Nope, not yet? Dani,” you said with a fake sigh, looking back at the board, “Nothing new.” 

“Well darn!” her cute Aussie accent puffed, “I’ve also been staring at this all day, and going through your old journals and notes about the cases to get a brighter idea, but nothing.” 

You thinned your lips to a line and looked down to the floor, “It’s rough out here.” 

It was silent in the club room until the doors opened, both you and Danielle looking to see Jake walking in with a bag, “I brought lunch!” 

Danielle clapped her hands, rushing to Jake and taking the bag, “Thank you!” 

He smiles at her, both of you watching as she makes herself comfy at the table and pulls out everyone’s food. 

You sit across from her, feeling Jake wrap his arms around your shoulders and resting his chin atop your head. 

Danielle hands you a box with your food but notices there are only two boxes, “Are you not eating, Jake?” you ask him. 

He shakes his head, “Nope, I ate earlier. I have somewhere to be here soon. Only stopped by to drop off lunch and head out.” 

You hummed, wondering what he had to be doing here soon. You already knew, or assumed, what he was doing, but you also couldn’t ask, not with Danielle in the room. 

So you both ate in silence, her eyes glancing on and off from you and Jake, a small smile on her face, “Jake have you figured anything else out about the murders?” 

You tried to act normal, to keep your body calm and a poker face on, continuing to eat as if that question didn’t trigger something. 

Jake just sighs, deciding to sit beside you now and dropping his face into his palm, “Not a thing. Whoever he is, he’s smart, that’s for sure.” 

Way to boost your own ego there, Jake Sim. 

“He’ll get caught someday,” Danielle casually says, taking a bite of her chicken. 

Jake’s eyes lit up as he smiled, “Oh yeah? You think so?” 

You carefully watched him. Jake knew your eyes were on him, watching his body language and how he looked at Danielle. He knew you were probably worried about her, possibly what he’d do to her. But you needn't worry, he wouldn’t harm her. Not unless she got too close. 

Danielle nods, “He’s killed over thirty people and somehow stolen evidence from the police station after his first mess up. He’s bound to make another mistake.” 

Jake raised his brows, heart pounding fast with excitement. Silly little thing, thinking he was fucking stupid enough to make another mistake like the first time. He was more careful than ever to make sure it wouldn’t happen again. Plus he had you now, you’d make sure nothing bad happened to him. 

“Anyway,” Danielle said, changing the subject, “Suspects,” she giggled, “Who do you think the man behind the mask is?” 

It was Jake’s turn to watch you, a smile still on his face, “Yeah, honey, have any ideas or clues?” 

You wanted to punch him, knowing he was doing this on purpose to tease you, to test you. 

So you shrug, keeping your eyes locked to your food, “No idea. I thought I was close once, but after the evidence disappeared, it was back to the drawer board.” 

Good fucking girl. 

Jake wanted to kiss you so hard right now. It turned him on hearing you lie for him. To act so dumb and oblivious. All for him. 

He glanced up at the clock on the wall, his smile only growing wider. 

“I’d love to stay with you lovely ladies,” Jake stands up, wrapping his arms back around you, “But I need to head out.” You nod, noticing Danielle’s mouth and eyes are smiling at you both. 

Jake kisses your cheek and squeezes you tightly then is out the door. 

“You two make such a good couple,” she coos, “Not only are you both the best journalists at this college, you’re the IT couple too!!~~~”

You softly chuckle, “We aren’t together though…” you sigh staring down at your chicken, “More of a situationship than anything else.” 

Danielle frowned, “But he moved in with you, didn’t he? He holds your hand around campus and even shows you off on his Instagram. Totally thought you’d be an item.” 

You shrug, taking a bite out of your food and swallowing, “He hasn’t asked me out or anything, so there’s technically not a label.” 

You honestly didn’t know what Jake wanted with you. He treated you like a girlfriend, made love to you like a girlfriend, and did everything a boyfriend would do. Yet you still had no idea what he wanted. You were more surprised that he agreed to move into your apartment with you, considering he spends his free time, ya know, killing people. You mostly only asked him to move in to save poor Sunghoon, but also because you wanted him close to you. Maybe you were more insane than Jake was. 

“Well,” Danielle sighs, “You two still are really cute together. I hope it eventually turns into a real relationship.” 

You and me both, Dani. 

—

Jake pulls a cell phone from his pocket, quickly dials a number, and presses the device to his ear, adjusting his duffle bag on his shoulder. 

“Jake!” she sang on the other line, “Where are you?” 

Jake smirks, “I am looking for you, Luna.” 

She softly giggles over the line, “I am standing right where you told me to.” 

Jake knew where she was. He could see her standing in the alleyway across the street from him. She wore a cute red glittery dress with matching high heels. Blonde dyed hair pulled back into a neat ponytail that was braided. She was cute, but nothing compared to you, his sweet honey. 

“I am almost there,” he says, dropping his duffle bag to the ground. He was also standing in an alleyway, it being too dark for anyone to notice him, or even notice Luna across the street from him, “I might have taken a wrong turn.” 

She giggles again, “Aren’t you like, top of your class or something? It’s what your dating profile said.” 

“Ahh,” Jake chuckles, pulling his black suit from the bag, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he puts it on, “I’m book smart, not street smart.” It took everything in Jake to not laugh at how gullible this woman was. It’s why he picked her in the first place. It was so easy to create a fake dating profile on some random ass app with a fake last night and profile picture. This woman doesn’t even actually know what he looks like. Made this all the more fun. It wasn't just because of how stupid she was, she openly has it on her profile that she’s a Ghost Face enthusiast. Imagine that! A personal fan of his, what an honor it was to kill a fan. And an honor to her to be killed by him. Pity though, she was really pretty. He didn’t drive three hours here and wasted another two waiting around for night to hit just to make this an easy kill for her. No no, he was going to make this fun. 

Jake continued to watch Luna as she laughed across the street, kicking her heels into the rubble of the street and pulling out his mask. “Wait,” He says, “I think I see you.” 

Luna looks up and down the street and even behind her. “I don’t see you.” 

“I’m across the street from you,” he smirks, tossing his duffle bag behind some abandoned boxes, and taking further steps back into the dark alleyway, “Walk over to me?” 

She smiles and tucks her bottom lip between her teeth, looking both ways before jumping from the curb and rushing across the street, “You better be giving me the best fuck of my life for making me run in heels.” 

Jake’s smirk only grew, adjusting his mask over the top of his head, “Oh, don’t worry I’ll fuck you real good, I promise.” 

He slid the mask down in place, holding the phone back between his shoulder and ear to slide his gloves on his hands. 

“Good,” Luna let out a huff, taking a deep breath as she reached the other side of the street, “snow where are you?” 

Jake hid in the darkness, “Hiding, gotta come find me,” he said in a teasing voice, watching how she smiled and walked down the alleyway. Stupid woman. 

“I don’t see you, and why do you sound muffled?” 

“Must be the shitty connection.” 

She shrugs, slowly but surely making her way towards Jake. The closer she got, the more he could tell she was getting uncomfortable, “Jake it’s really dark out here, where are you?” 

“Hmmm,” he hums, “I’ll tell you if you answer my question.” 

She stops walking, clicking her tongue, and turns around, facing away from him. 

Perfect. 

“What?” she says annoyed, “If you’re pulling a prank and are actually on the other side of the street I swear.” 

“I’m not, don’t worry,” Jake clenched the voice changer attached to his suit, “I just need to ask,” he pressed the button, “What’s your favorite scary movie?” 

Luna’s heart dropped, her blood going cold, but a smile on her face, nevertheless, “I didn’t know you were also a Ghost Face enthusiast,” she giggled, “That kind of hot, actually. Didn’t think I’d find anyone else from this town who also was into it.” 

Jake creeps up on her slowly, his knife being pulled from his pocket, “You see, the thing is, I am not from this town,” Luna’s smile fades, “I’m also not an enthusiast.” 

Before she could turn around, Jake ended the call, tossing the burner phone somewhere in the abyss of the alley, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, and pressing the knife to her neck. 

Luna gasps, dropping her phone and purse to the ground, hands flying to Jake’s arm. She opened her mouth to scream, but the sharpness of Jake’s knife cut deep into her throat, the warm red liquid spilling from her neck and down the front of her hands and arms, her dress, and Jake’s arm. 

“I am the Ghost Face,” he whispers as Luna starts to struggle against his hold, clawing at his arm with her nails, ripping the long sleeve of his suit, and digging into his skin. 

He hisses as pushes her to the ground, her body landing with a thud. Using all the strength she had in her dying body to try and crawl away from him, her blood staining the concrete. 

Jake was pissed now. He’d have to sew his suit back together and probably stitch up his arm once he’s back at the apartment. Oh, how worried you’ll be once you see him tonight. His anger flourishes even more, pissed at Luna for how she will make you worry about him. 

Jake looped his boot at her waist, lifting her up and forcing her to flip over. He quickly dropped down, straddling her, loving the scared look on her face. The look of death looming over. 

“Awe,” he coos, his Aussie accent mixed with the voice mod sent chills down her spine, “You really tried your best to get away,” he pins her arms down with his knees, and free hand pinned her shoulder to the ground, “You really shouldn’t trust random people on the internet. Haven’t your parents taught you that?” She gasped for air, trying to find some way to scream out for help. Jake clicked his tongue, hovering the tip of his knife to her chest, “Don’t you also know it’s rude to ignore people?” he slowly pushed the knife in, “Your parents didn’t teach you a damn thing, no wonder you’re so gullible.” 

The sounds of her gasps mixed with the gurgling sounds of her blood pooling out from her neck and chest were music to his ears. He quickly pulled the knife out and slid it back in, creating a new wound. Jake repeated the process, spreading Luna’s blood all over himself, his mask, her dying body, and the ground. Loving how his knife sounded as it repeatedly broke her skin. 

Jake was sweating, feeling the droplets stream down his face, needing some air. 

He slid the mask up, finally revealing his true face to her. Blood dripped from her mouth as she stared blankly at him, vision going blurry. He laughs, “Still kicking? What a trooper.” He lifted up his right arm, shoving the sleeve up to his elbow, revealing the deep cuts her nails left, “No wonder you left such a nasty wound, you’re a fighter even when you’re fucking stupid.” Luna tried to fight, to say anything, her heartbeat barely holding on. 

Jake traced the tip of his knife down the side of her pale face, “My girl might kill me when I return home after seeing the damage you did to my arm,” he tilted his head, “I promised her I would be careful,” he chuckles, “Oh well, I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.” 

“fuck…you…” was all Luna managed to say with her dying breath. 

Jake’s smile grew, “That wasn’t very nice.” He was done playing now, wanting to return home and cuddle you the rest of the night. He wasted enough time here, “So long, Luna.” 

Jake made his final strike, her blood splattering across his face as she took her final breath. 

—

You paced about the living room, arms crossed over your chest and hands rubbing your upper arms. Where was he? It’s been hours and he was nowhere to be seen. You called Sunghoon asking if he was with him, only to your dismay, Sunghoon hasn’t seen him since soccer practice this morning. 

You already figured out what Jake was doing. His duffle bag wasn’t in its normal spot in the bedroom. The endless thoughts of the worst possible scenarios raced through your head. What if something happened? What if he got caught? What if his victim fought back and he couldn’t get away? Many more different thoughts spilled about your brain. And you wouldn’t rest until he either walked through that door or called you. 

You’ve called him multiple times. Texted him too. But got no response. Jake normally turns his phone off when he…to keep from someone tracking his location or disturbing him. It only made you worry more. 

The spots on the hard floor were now warm from your pacing and your neighbors below you were probably getting ready to grab a broomstick and start hitting their ceiling. 

But all your worries faded when your ears picked up the sound of keys jingling from the other side of the front door, being pushed into the lock and turning. The door opened and finally, Jake stepped inside. He smiled at you, “Hi my sweet honey, you waited up for me?” 

You wanted to rush to him, to hug him and kiss him and yell at him for being gone so long and making you worry. To beat the shit out of him for committing another murder and how you felt like shit because all you want to do is fix him. But to your dismay, you know you can’t fix insanity, not when you’re also insane. 

Jake tilted his head, “Not going to welcome me home?” 

You noticed the dried blood on his face and hair, you pitted whoever the victim was, “Welcome home, Jake.” 

“That my sweet honey,” he drops the duffle bag to the floor and walks over to you, embracing you to his chest. He smelt of sweat and blood, causing you to scrunch your nose. 

“You need a shower.” 

Jake chuckles, squeezing you tightly, “I know.” 

You ran your hands from his shoulders down to his forearm, his face wincing. You looked up at him, “What's wrong?” 

Jake awkwardly smiled, “Nothing.” 

You looked down to his forearm where your hand gripped onto his hoodie sleeve, noticing how pale his skin looked on his hand. Something happened. You quickly pulled up the sleeve, seeing four deep cuts to the skin.

“Now…honey—“

“What the fuck happened?!” You snapped, pointing your finger to the kitchen table, “Sit the fuck down.” 

Jake quickly nodded. Shit, she might actually fucking kill me. 

You pulled the first aid kit from the bathroom and quickly rushed back to him, kneeling down in front of him. He was lucky you decided to buy the most expensive one and had first aid training. Ya know, in case something like this happened. Jake explained to you the series of events that led up to now, with an insane smile on his face the entire time. 

“It was perfect,” he coos, “You should have seen it, honey.”

You gently smiled at him, deciding to keep your thoughts on how you were perfectly fine not being there to witness it. You cleaned up what you could of the wounds, “You’ll need stitches.” 

He cocks his head, eyes filled with so much endearment for you, “Good thing I have you to take care of me, ya?” He caresses your cheek, thumb gliding to your lips and pulling the button one down, “So good for me.” 

You pulled from his graze, reaching into the kit and pulling out the tools, dissolvable stitches, and bandages, “This will probably hurt.” 

Jake shrugs, “I’m a soccer player, I’ve had stitches and broken bones before.”

You pushed off his sassy attitude, preparing the needle and the string. Jake sat through it like a champ, only winching when the needle pierced through his skin. You placed ointment over the stitches and bandaged it up, “All done.” 

Jake leans forward and places a kiss on your forehead and then leans back into the chair, “Thank you, honey.”

You packaged up the kit, another thought shooting in your mind, “She dug her nails into you, correct?” 

Jake inhales, “Yeah? Isn’t that what I said?” 

You glared at him, “She probably has your DNA under her nails, you fucking idiot!” 

Your chin was between his index finger and thumb before you even had the chance to blink, his face inches away from yours, “I’m not a fucking idiot!” he hissed between his teeth, “I took care of it.” He dropped your chin, running his hands through his dark sweaty, and blood-soaked hair, keeping eye contact with you. Your pissed-off glare was relentless, and oh man, it was turning him on. Seeing you so pissed off at him yet so worried about his well-being. What did he do to deserve you? 

Jake drops his hand to his crotch, palming his hardening length, “I love it when you look at me like that,” he tilts his head, “You know what I’d love even more?” 

You waited, feeling your arousal starting to pool on your panties. 

“Your mouth wrapped around my cock.” 

Jake slowly unbuttoned his jeans, looping his thumbs in between the fabric of his boxers and skin, sliding both his jeans and boxers down to the floor, his fully hard dick resting against his abdomen. He tilted his chin up, signaling for you to touch him. 

So you did, wrapping your hand around his base and slowly pumping him, taking the precum spilling from the tip and spreading it around the head. Jake groans at your touch, cock twitching, “Stop teasing me, baby.” 

He places his hand on your head, gently pushing you forward, his tip touching your lips. You place a few kisses to the tip, sneaking your tongue out and wrapping it around the head, hand sliding up and down the shaft as you slowly take him in your mouth, bobbing your head in a slow motion and flattening your tongue to fit him in deeper. 

“Fuck, honey,” he moans, moving your head with his hand to help you pick up the speed, “Your mouth feels so good.” 

His tip hits the back of your throat, kicking in your gag reflex, sending vibrations against him. Jake hisses, flinging his head back over the chair and bucking his hips up, “Fuck, YN, oh fuck.” 

Your hands now held onto his thighs, feeling the muscles flex against your palms as he bucked his hips up into your mouth, your nose brushing against his pelvis. You tucked your feet beneath you and squeezed your thighs together, trying to feel some fiction of your own as your arousal pooled in your panties, more than likely soaking through the thin material and your shorts. 

Tears swelled your eyes as you tried to breathe through your nose, relishing too much in this pleasure of having him so far down your throat to even dare think about coming up for air. But the twitch his cock did against your tongue told you enough that he wouldn’t last much longer. 

You fluttered your eyes up, already seeing him staring back down at you. Jake’s eyes were completely blown out, mouth gaped open, and breathing deeply. The dried blood on his face—for whatever reason—mixed with the facial expression of pure bliss, was so fucking hot on him. 

It didn’t make sense to you, how you could find blood splattered across his beautiful face to be so attractive. Maybe it was just your plain attraction to him, the feelings you felt for him that ran so deep that he made blood look good. 

Jake loved this moment, loved you. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, watching how his cock disappears down your throat. God, it was perfect, way better than the murder he committed hours ago. He loved how the tears swelled your eyes but you loved every moment of his cock in your mouth. 

“You look so pretty wrapped around my cock, baby,” he bucked his hips up harder, hitting the back of your throat and you moaned around him. His fingers tangled in your hair, “I’m gonna fill that pretty little mouth of yours with my load and you’ll swallow it, understand?” 

You tried to nod but instead batted your eyes at him in understanding, he just smirked, “Good girl.” 

With a few bobs of your head, Jake pushed you down onto him, hips snapping up to meet your nose against his pelvis, his cum shooting down your throat. He took a few deep breaths, rocking his hips to chase out that high, flinging his head back against the chair. 

When his grip on your hair released, you slid him out your mouth, causing Jake to look back up at you, waiting. You swallowed his seed, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out, showing the proof. 

Jake smirks, leaning forward and giving you a quick kiss, “I’m so in love with you.” 

He stands from the chair, kicking his legs out of his jeans and boxers and pulling the hoodie and shirt off too, tossing them to the floor. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, piercing daggers into his back. He just got the best head of his life and he’s stripping and dropping his nasty bloody clothes all over your floor? 

“Honey?” he calls for you, pulling out his bloody suit and mask, “Would you mind please washing my clothes for me? I’ll repay you by making breakfast in the morning.” 

He turns to you, picking up all the clothes he left on the floor and handing them to you, his naked body distracting you. 

“Hey,” he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at his face, “I’ll make love to you after my shower, okay?” He gives you a wink, “Please wash my clothes?” You quickly nod, how could you turn down getting dicked down later AND breakfast tomorrow morning? He placed one last kiss on your lips and made his way to the shower. 

—

You leaned against the arcade machine, watching as Jake and Sunghoon slapped their palms onto the buttons of the Tekken game, both their faces with full smiles and concentration. Your eyes wandered down to Jake’s arms and hands, his beautiful veins popping out.  

“Be careful,” you said, fully noticing just how hard the two boys were slapping the buttons, “This is an old machine.” 

“YES!!” Sunghoon screamed, raising his hands in the air and causing you to jump back from being startled by his outburst, “Suck it Jake!” 

Jake dropped his face into his hands, resting his elbows on the machine, “I was so sure I had you!” 

Sunghoon patted Jake’s back, “Can’t win them all buddy.” 

Jake quickly shot up from the stool, his index finger pointing across the arcade, “Dance battle me!” 

Sunghoon smirked, “You’ll lose again.” 

Jake flipped him the bird, shoving the middle finger in his face as he walked away, “Try me.”

The two of them rushed to the Dance Dance Revolution game, fighting over who would use their coins for the round. 

You still get whiplash every time you see Jake doing normal things. That this man—who is a fucking serial killer—is fighting with his best friend over who is going to pay for the game, just like any normal set of friends would do. Besides the fact that he is far from normal. 

“Kids, am I right?” 

You got startled for the second time today, jumping and quickly whipping your head around to see where and who the voice came from. You recognize that dyed blonde hair and smile. 

Jay Park. A student in the film department. You’ve worked with him plenty of times on different projects for the college. He even helped you and Jake on one of the first few Ghost Facer murder cases. It’s been a while since you’ve actually gotten to see or really speak to him besides in passing. 

You leaned against the Tekken arcade machine and crossed your arms, your eyes wandering back to Jake and Sunghoon, watching as they competitively danced away, “Yeah, boys will be boys, I guess.” 

Jay follows your gaze over to them, chuckling at them, “Are they always like this?” 

That…was a good question. You and Jake didn’t hang out with Sunghoon very often. Even before you found out about Jake’s Ghost Face persona you didn’t see a lot of Sunghoon. Nothing was different now. 

So you just kind of shrugged, “When I see the two of them together, yeah.”

Jay was looking at you again, eyebrows raised, “When you see them both?” you nodded, “Oh, well figured you would since you’re dating Sim.” 

“Actually,” you sigh, once again being reminded how he’s not yours, “We aren’t…dating.” 

Jay was now even more confused, “Doesn’t he live with you?” 

You thinned your lips and gave another shrug, “It’s complicated.” Complicated because I’m housing a serial killer who has yet to slap a label on what we even are. 

“So you’re single then?” you nod again, “In that case.” Jay leaned closer to you, his face a few inches away from yours and his arm resting behind you against the gaming machine, “Would you like to go out with me sometime? If I am being honest, I’ve always found you super cute.” Jay couldn’t help but let his eyes wander down your body, stopping at the ruffles of your skirt, loving how the cute flowered laced ends looked against your pushed thighs, “I would pay and everything, be my treat.” 

The dance ended with Jake and Sunghoon practically coming to a tie, Jake only by three points ahead of him. 

“Fuck…” Jake pants, “You…” he said with another pant and once again giving his best friend his middle finger, “Beat your ass.” 

Sunghoon shoved his friend's hand out of his face, rolling his eyes, “By three points!” 

Jake just smiles, happy with his win, “YN did you see…” Jake barely turned around to speak with you to see you still by the last game they played and Jay in your personal space. His blood boiled and his fists clenched, “Why is Park in my girl's space?” 

Sunghoon took a deep breath, still tired from the intense dance battle, and turned, seeing the same thing Jake was, “Maybe he's just being friendly?”

Friendly? HA. Right. That look on Jay’s face was anything but friendly. Jay was looking at you the way he does, “Friendly my ass,” Jake hissed, “I don’t like it.”  

Sunghoon sighed, “Well, maybe if you made it official between the two of you, he wouldn’t be in her space.” 

Make it official? Wasn’t Jake living under your roof, sleeping in your bed, fucking you so good every single night not proof enough that you two were exclusive? That you’re his and no one else’s? 

Jake’s anger boiled further, seeing how you shook your head at Jay but kept smiling at him. His smile only became bigger. Jake’s nails sank into his palm. 

“Damn, dude,” Sunghoon whistled, “Never seen you so jealous before.” 

Jealous? Ridiculous.

“Why don’t you go get us a table at that restaurant we planned to hit up after this,” Jake said with a killing calm, “YN and I will meet you there soon.” 

Sunghoon agreed, mostly because he wanted no part of whatever it was Jake was about to do. He’s never seen him so jealous over something. Sunghoon definitely didn’t want to be around if a fight broke out. Praying to every god possible that you’re able to keep Jake calm. 

Once Sunghoon was out of the arcade, Jake stepped down from the dance game, eyes blazing at seeing Jay trace his fingers down from your shoulder to your wrist. 

Jake was on you in an instant, “Hands off my girl,” he growled, shoving Jay away from you and pulling you behind him, his killer instinct coming on full display. Oh man, how badly did Jake want to kill Jay. To slowly sink his knife into his neck and watch the life drain from his eyes and blood stream from the wound. 

Jay chuckled, “Your girl?” he smirked, leaning back against the gaming machine, “Didn’t realize she belonged to you.” 

This was the first time you were actually scared of Jake. You’ve never seen him so pissed off, so protective. His grip on your wrist was growing tighter the longer he pierced daggers at Jay. 

“I came in her this morning, making her mine,” Jake smirked, the fire in his eyes not relenting. 

“Are you a dog?” Jay scrunched his nose and raised a brow, “Marking your territory or some shit?” 

“Fucked her in doggy, so yeah.” 

“Jesus fucking christ.” Jay stood up straight, taking a few steps back, “What the fuck man.” 

“Woof.” 

“Jake!” you slapped his arm, trying to yank your wrist free, your cheeks flushed from him exposing your morning deeds, “Stop, let’s just go!” 

You tried to pull Jake now, only for him to yank you back closer to him, you tripping over your feet and landing against his back, “What’s wrong baby? Am I embarrassing you?” he coos, “Were you so bored of me that you had to slut around and flirt with someone who wasn’t me?” 

“Hey!” Jay barked, “Don’t talk to her like that!” 

“Or what?” Jake said with a chilling calm, taking a few steps closer to Jay, being inches apart from his face, “Don’t fuck with me.” 

“Get out,” Jay scoffed, “Before I kick you out.” 

Jake raised a brow, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, asshat, my family owns this arcade. I work here, get the fuck out.” 

Jake smirks, walking backward and sliding his arm over your shoulder, “Nah, we got some coins left to use.”

The last thing Jay wanted to do was call the police and have to explain to his family it was all over a girl. So he watched Jake cling to you as he turned you both around, placing a kiss on your temple, keeping eye contact with him the entire time. Jay didn’t know Jake well, but the man he was seeing right now, scared the shit out of him. Like he could kill him in a heartbeat. So Jay left it alone, walking over to the front counter and sitting down on the stool, keeping an eye on you to make sure you were okay. 

Jake dropped himself in front of another fighting game, pulling you into his lap, lips on your ear, “You better fucking talk me out of this one,” he growled, “because if you don’t I’m returning here later tonight, and fucking killing him and stringing his body from the ceiling for his family to find tomorrow morning.” 

Your heart sank, eyes looking over to Jay and seeing his eyes staring back at you, “Jake please,” you whispered. 

“Please what?” he whispered back, both his hands rubbing at your thighs, “You were so flirty with him and now you’re begging me to not kill him?” 

You hated how his voice in your ear was making you wet. How his hands squeezing your bare thighs was sending chills up your spine. Jake knew it was turning you on, he wasn’t stupid. He knew your body and how it works and how to work it, he was using this to his advantage. 

You leaned back into him, slightly turning your face so you could see him in your peripherals, “Jake, you know I only want you.” And it was true. You wanted only Jake. You loved him. Yeah, you got kinda flirty with Jay, but it wasn’t going anywhere, you kept turning down his advances and he wasn’t taking no for an answer, but that doesn’t mean Jake needs to kill him. You had to play Jake’s game and be in control, “Only you.” 

Jake chuckles, sliding his hands to your inner thighs and spreading your legs, exposing your red panties to Jay. Jake took a quick glance at him, seeing his face turn red and his eyes widen. Jake didn’t just chuckle because of what you said, he was chuckling at you. He found it so cute that you think you’re the one in control, “I love watching you think you’re controlling me,” he licks at the shell of your ear, “You can’t play mind games with a serial killer, baby,” Chills went throughout your body as his fingers slid up to your core, “Nice try though.”

“Jake,” you gasped, clenching your fingers to the stool, his knuckle rubbing against your folds, “I truly only want you, I don’t want him.” 

Ahh your words were music to his ears. Your voice so full of truth, and your cunt so wet for him. Only him, “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he whispers, “You’re going to pull the last few coins from my pocket and play this game here, got it?” You nod, slipping a hand into his jeans pocket and taking out the golden arcade coins, “Don’t put them in yet,” he licks another stripe up your ear, his thumb looping into your panties. 

“What are you do—Jake!” you softly moaned his name, feeling the cool air hit your exposed cunt as he split your pussy lips open with his index and ring finger, the middle sliding up and down from your fuck hole to your clit and back down, “Jake, we’re in public,” you finally managed to say, eyes rushing back to Jay, seeing him dead staring. 

“And?” he laughs, sliding his middle finger into your cunt, “We’re going to give him a show.” 

You knew Jake was insane, knew something like this was nothing compared to the things he’s done, yet it still surprised you nevertheless that he had your legs spread and pussy out for another man to see. 

Jake kept a firm grip on your thigh as his finger slowly pumped in and out of you, his eyes piercing at Jay. Jake kept eye contact as he flattened his tongue against the end of your neck and licked up and up until he reached just below your jaw, planting an open-mouthed kiss on that sweet spot. Jake loved how agitated Jay was getting. How he tried so hard to look away from the two of you but couldn’t. It was a mind game, one Jake was going to win. 

But GOD you felt so good against his finger, so good he slipped his index and ring fingers in along with the middle, stretching your pussy. You moaned out, it being loud enough Jay was able to hear it from across the arcade, the tips of his ears turning red. 

You clenched around Jake’s fingers and he hissed, his cock begging to be freed from the confinements of his jeans. He didn’t want to want any longer. 

Jake lifted you off him, “Put the coins in the machine.” You listened, sliding the golden metal in one by one until the start-up screen loaded, “Now play the game.” You tried to focus on the start of it, but the sounds of Jake’s belt unlatching and zipper being pulled down, made it hard.

He spreads your pussy’s lips again, lining the tip to your entrance, “Slide down on me baby.” 

Heat rises to your face cheeks, eyes darting around the arcade, Jay’s eyes being the only ones watching you, the only pair that even noticed what was happening in this corner. You slowly slid down onto Jake, him hissing out a soft “fuck,” when his tip kisses your cervix. 

Jake squeezed your hips, thanking whatever little voice in your head that told you to wear a skirt today and making this so much easier on him and it is so fucking hot. 

He bucked his hips up, not even giving you time to adjust to his size. You bit down on your lip as you played the game, trying to focus on the fight in front of you. Your palm squeezed the joystick so hard you were afraid you’d break it. 

Fuck you felt so good wrapped around him. And it felt so good to fuck you in front of Jay, relishing in the look spread across Jay’s face and how tightly his jaw was locked. Jake just smirked, fucking into you harder and faster. 

You couldn’t keep control of the game, eventually giving up and gripping onto the sides of the machine, trying with everything you had to not scream out in pleasure. Jake took this as an opportunity, him grabbing you by your neck and pushing you against his chest, his knees lifting up and spreading your legs further apart. 

“You don’t know how badly I want to kill him,” he whispers in your ear, being so out of breath, “I can’t fucking stand how he was looking at you, looking at what’s mine,” The anger returned, the jealously. Fuck he was jealous. That was a first for him, “I want to kill him for looking at my girlfriend.” 

Girlfriend. He called you his girlfriend. You clenched around him after hearing that, the pleasure washing over you tenfold at having that label. 

“Hmmm fuck baby,” he groans, “keep clenching me like that and I’m going to spill into you.” You clenched again, not purposely, it just felt so fucking good to be fucked by your boyfriend, it felt good knowing he was jealous of another man to the point of wanting to kill for you. And maybe that made you just as crazy as him. 

“Jake,” you softly moaned, forcing yourself to keep quiet. 

Jake kisses your temple, “Moan my name louder, honey. Let our friend Jay over there know who you belong to, who is the only one that can make this pussy wet.” He bucked his hips harder, his skin slapping against your ass. 

You moaned his name louder, making eye contact with Jay again. 

“Fuck yes,” Jake smirks, “You’re so good for me.” 

You clenched around him again, your climax fast approaching. Jake moans at how your walls hugged him, his arms wrapping around your body and holding you tightly to him as he fucked into you harder, fixing to burst, “Cum with me baby, oh fuck please cum with me.” 

With his wishes, you both came together, him continuing to buck his hips slowly, mixing your cum together. 

Jake leaned back against the wall, still holding you to his chest, smirking at Jay as he catches his breath, watching how his eyes go from your face and travel down to your cunt, watching the mixture of your and Jake’s cum leak from your hole. 

You took deep breaths in, grabbing your skirt and pulling it down as far as you could, “Jae,”

Jake kissed your cheek, “Let’s go and meet up with Hoon now, ya?” 

You nod, pulling him out and readjusting your panties and skirt as Jake fixes his jeans and then leaves the arcade with Jake’s chilling laughter echoing within the walls. 

—

You sat at the edge of the bed, watching Jake sharpen his knife. He sat in the chair he usually kept his duffle bag and mask on, fully clothed in his Ghost Face attire, the mask resting at the top of his head. His brows furrowed in concentration, lifting the knife in front of his face and smirking at his work. 

You wanted to ask him who he was planning on killing tonight, if it was someone you knew or a random person off the street. But you didn’t know if you actually wanted the answers to those questions, not knowing if Jake would even give you those answers. He glances at you then goes back to sharpening, “What are you thinking about?” 

Shit. He caught you. You tried to find anything—literally anything—to come up with in a bullshit way to answer his question, your eyes falling onto the mask, “Why that mask specificity?” It was a real genuine question, you’ve always wondered it ever since the murders first started happening. 

Jake smiles at you, “Why not this one?” he tosses the sharpening tool into his duffle, reaching up and sliding the mask down onto his face, “It’s scary, isn’t it?” You nodded but also shrugged. You weren’t scared of Jake, so seeing him fully in this outfit wasn’t affecting you. You couldn’t see, but he was grinning ear to ear underneath the mask, “It’s better with the voice mod,” he chuckles, flipping the switch on the voice changer, “It makes all the difference, doesn’t it, honey?” 

Chills went down your back and you pressed your knees to your chest. The look on your face told Jake everything. He was right, it made a difference. If you didn’t know it was him beneath the mask you’d be terrified. His Aussie accent was no longer present and you couldn’t even tell it was his voice. No wonder his victims were always so scared. 

Jake tilts his head at you, honestly getting hard at how scared you look. That look, that pretty and scared look on your face was what he wanted that night he tried to kill you. Oh, how time has passed since then. But he didn’t have time to reminisce about the past, he was running late for a killing date. 

He stood from the chair, “You’re leaving already?” 

Jake slides his gloves onto his hands, “Yes. I’ll be back soon.” You wouldn’t be able to get used to that ghost face voice. 

You wanted him to stay home. It was the weekend and he BARELY spent the weekends with you. If he wasn’t off committing crimes, he was at soccer practice or with Sunghoon, or sticking himself in a study room at the library on campus to study. So you acted fast, not just in a way to stop him from ending someone else’s life, but to beg him to stay home. 

“Jae,” you called his name, stepping in front of him, “Why don’t you stay home?” 

He chuckles, adjusting the gloves and then flexing his fingers, “I have to go.” Jake was fucking crazy, he knew he was. He loved the thrill of the kill, the screams and blood and smells. It was intoxicating, almost like a drug. 

Jake goes to step around you, but you keep blocking his path, “Stay home with me.” 

He was getting irritated, “Move, honey, I am asking nicely.”

You shook your head, “Spend the weekend with me.” 

Jake takes your chin between his fingers and pulls your face to the mask, “I won’t ask again, be a good girl and listen to me.” 

You noticed he gripped the knife in his hand and could only imagine how pissed he must look underneath the mask. But you were desperate, wanting to find some way to keep him home, and what better way than to use your womanly charm? You pressed your breasts against his chest, knowing he could feel how braless you were under his favorite rock band tee shirt, “Please Jakey.” 

He almost caved—almost—he slid his fingers from your chin down to your upper arm, ready to brush you out of his path, but your desperateness only pushed forward. You reached for the knife in the hope if you took it from him things would go your way and he’d stay home. 

But you forgot for a solid second who it was you were dealing with. 

You were now facing away from him, your back to his chest and knife pressed against your neck. Your eyes widened as you looked into the mirror in front of you. Seeing how his gloved hand pressed tightly to your stomach, how his head rested to the side of yours and his knife pressed to your throat. You swallowed, rubbing your thighs together. 

“Ahh, it’s a sight to see isn’t it, honey? This is what you looked like the first time I held my knife to your pretty neck.” Jake was hard looking at you in the mirror with him pressed to you. It was one thing seeing you beneath him, but to see it in reflection? While he’s in his attire with the love of his life in front of him? It was even better than before. 

“Is this what all your victims look like?” you whispered, placing your hands on his forearms, tilting your head back onto his shoulder, exposing more of your neck, “How it goes before you cut their throats open?” 

Jake hums, “Yes, but seeing them like this never got me hard, not as you do.” He rubbed his clothed cock against your ass, “Fuck you get me so hard. I love the way my knife looks against your skin.” 

You backed your ass against him, grinding on his cock, “Use it on me then.” what the fuck are you saying?

“Fuck don’t say things like that baby,” he tightened his grip on you, “Don’t say things like that to me.” 

Jake would enjoy using his weapon on you, to cut you open and see how pretty you looked covered in blood, god it made his cock twitch. But he couldn’t do it, not at the risk of accidentally killing you. He loves you and can’t live without you. The risk wasn’t worth it. 

You continued to rub against him, “Stay home with me.” 

Fuck it. 

He pushes you forward, forcing you to reach your hands out to lay flat against the mirror, your nose brushing against the cool glass, “You want me to stay home?” the voice mod hissed, his hand leaving your waist to pull the mask from his face, his eyes full of lust as they stared at you through the mirror. He tossed the mask to the bed, pressing his lips to your ear, “Want to be dicked down that badly?” you nod, the knife getting pressed tighter to your throat, “Use your fucking words.” 

“Yes,” it came out in a loud moan, “I want you to stay home, to fuck me this whole weekend.” 

“Hmmm,” he hummed, pulling you off the mirror and back against his chest, “Let’s rid you of your clothes, yeah?” 

Jake traced the tip of the knife down your throat and to the edge of his favorite band shirt, not giving a single damn that he cut into the fabric, slicing a line down to the middle, then using his hands to tear it apart, revealing your bare upper half, sliding the torn shirt to the floor. 

The leather of his glove tickled when he placed his hand back to your waist, tracing the knife from your belly button up, moving it underneath your breasts, and circling them, slowly and carefully grazing your nipples. It made your core clench and the hair on your skin rise. Oh how badly he wanted to cut your skin, even if just a tiny bit, just to scratch that itch he’s been craving since day one. Deciding he was just going to do it. 

But he was going to fuck you first. 

Jake didn’t waste any more time and pulled your shorts and panties off your body and pressed you back against the mirror, ridding himself of his suit and other clothing, leaving you both bare, skin-to-skin. 

Jake kicked your legs apart, a string of your slick connected both ends of your thighs, showing off how wet you already were for him. Jake licked his lips, scooping up your juices with two fingers and placing them into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around his digits. His body shuddered at your taste, cock twitching, needing to feel you. 

He lifted your hips up, and slid inside you with ease, not being able to wait, and fucked into you. Pressing his hand down on your lower belly, feeling his thick length push in and out of your cunt, “Oh, fuck,” he moans, throwing his head back and fucking his hips harder. He was more sensitive right now, not knowing why or even really caring why. He doesn’t even care if he cums first, because he’s going to spend this entire night fucking you. Making you cum over and over and making him cum over and over. He’s going to spend the whole weekend with his cock buried inside you. Who gives a fuck about the people he could be killing when he can be balls deep in your pussy. 

He pressed his hand against you harder, feeling more of himself move against your walls and squeezing tighter around him, “Baby, I’m gonna cum soon,” he flings his head forward, leaning it against yours as he looked at you in the mirror, seeing your fucked out expression, pupils blown out and mouth open and moaning out with each thrust he gave you, his knife sitting pretty against your neck, “Fuckkkkkk,” he moans, “I can’t hold it in.” 

One final thrust and his cum painted your gummy walls white. Jake kissed your cheek, gently sliding the knife from your throat, down your shoulder, and stopping halfway on your upper arm. His hooded eyes lock with yours, asking for permission, but before you can even give it to him, he presses the metal into your skin, the crimson liquid slowly oozing from your body. 

Jake bit his lips, slowly pulling his cock out to the tip, and ramming it back inside you, already ready for round two. 

You were moaning louder this time, chanting out his name as your fingers gripped the mirror, feeling your blood streaming down your arm and onto the floor. 

“Goddamn,” he hissed, cutting another wound below the first one, not being able to control himself, “You look so pretty bleeding out for me.” 

Your brain went dizzy and you weren’t sure if it was from the loss of blood or from how good Jake was fucking you. It was probably both. 

You released one hand from the mirror and cupped it to your arm, trying to stop what you could from it staining the carpet. But Jake’s thrusts were unrelenting, working faster than before and hitting your g-spot. The knot threatened to snap and it made you dizzier, almost losing your balance, forcing you to place your now bloody hand on the glass, leaving bloodied handprints. 

“Jae,” you moaned his name, “Fixing to cum.” 

Jake bit your ear softly, “Cum for me, honey.” 

The pleasure of your release formed goosebumps on your skin, mixing with Jake’s previous cum. 

You don’t know what came over you in the second, but you felt powerful. You had your boyfriend a cumming mess within minutes of him being inside you. You got him to stay home, to be with you. You were in control right now. You’ve taken over in the mind games. 

You pushed yourself off from the mirror, forcing Jake out of your hole and stumbling back. You were quick to whip around, your hands finding home on his chest and pushing him to the bed, forcing him to sit on the edge as you climbed into his lap, sliding your cunt back down onto him. 

Jake was in heaven, feeling pure bliss as how quickly you dominated over him. He was a turn on, for sure, but he wouldn’t let you catch him off guard like that again, accepting your win. 

Jake was even more surprised to feel your bloodied hand gripping his jaw and his knife in your other hand being pressed to his throat. How did you get it out of his hand? And when did you do it? 

You smirked down at him, “What’s wrong Jaeyun?” 

Oh, FUCK. 

Jake’s hands found their home on your waist, pulling at you to start moving, “Ride my cock and maybe I’ll tell you.” 

You leaned closer to him, pressing the knife closer like how he’s done to you. His cock twitched, begging to be ridden. You click your tongue, “Does it turn on the killer to see his girlfriend turn his weapon against him? To have you like fucking putty in my hands?” 

He didn’t understand how this happened, but god was he relishing in it. 

Jake could easily turn the tides. Could flip you over and take the knife back and fuck you senseless. But he was enjoying this too much, letting you think you still had full control. 

“Baby,” he whispered, lifting up and placing a kiss on your lips, “Please ride my cock, I need to feel you.” 

You honestly loved seeing your little killer beg for your sex, it was a power move and boosted your ego. You rocked your hips, taking the point of the knife and pressing it up to the bottom of his chin. This was exciting, no wonder he enjoyed knife play with you. 

But alas, your power move eventually faded as you lost yourself on his cock, the knife was now tossed somewhere in the room. One of his arms was wrapped around your waist, and the other behind him to keep balance as he fucked his hips up into you at the same motion of you fucking on him. Your bloody hand prints now covered him: his face, shoulder, neck, chest, all over his back and bicep. Everywhere. The wounds on your arm finally clotted and crusted over, no longer spilling. 

You came again and then Jake a few seconds after you. But he wasn’t done with you yet, picking you up in his strong arms and carrying you further onto the bed, laying your head on the pillows and placing your legs over his shoulders, “I love you.” 

You cupped his face, “I love you too.” 

Jake was true to his word when he swore he’d fuck you until you both came over and over and over again until the overstimulation was too much, cumming once more, then falling asleep in each other's arms. 

You woke up that next morning with bandages on your arm and in fresh clean clothes. The bedsheets were stripped from the bed and a blanket was covering you. The blood from the mirror was now gone, and Jake was on the floor at the end of the bed doing what it looked like scrubbing your strained blood out of the carpet. You smiled, quickly closing your eyes and falling back to sleep, never in your life have you felt so safe in the presence of a serial killer. 

—

You winced in pain as you dropped yourself onto the couch, your legs completely sore. 

Jake chuckles from the kitchen as he prepares lunch for you both, “You okay in there, my love?” You peek over the couch, glaring at him, “Don’t look at me like that,” he says sweetly, “You’re the one who wanted me to fuck you until you couldn’t walk the entire weekend.” 

Jake stayed true to absolutely destroying your cunt the entire weekend. Man has some STAMINA, that’s for sure. Any chance he got, he was balls deep inside you. You just tried to enjoy a nice warm shower, was halfway through when Jake pulls the curtains back and stepped in, immediately pinning you against the wall and fucking you until you couldn’t stand. You couldn’t complain though, you got him the entire weekend to yourself. 

The only thing that sucked was going back to classes tomorrow, meaning you’d have to share him again with everyone. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually make it where I could barely walk.”

Jake just smiles, “What can I say, I love my girl weak in the knees for me.”

You made a fake laugh at his joke but still smiled brightly. You reached for the remote and turned the TV on, flipping through channels until a quick scene of the news was on, catching your attention and forcing you to go back. 

“Yesterday evening, two bodies were found near a dumpster on the south side of the campus—“

“Jake,” you called for him, “Come in here.” 

Jake stood behind you, leaning his body against the back of the couch, “What’s up?” 

You point to the TV, “The two bodies have been identified as a young couple, we were last seen walking the campus, heading to the dorms—“The camera pans to the crime scene, their dead bodies being covered up by white tarps and police and investigators surrounding the area, one of the policemen pulling something out of the dumpster, your breath hitched “—a ghost face mask has been found at the scene of the crime—“ 

You whip around to look at Jake, “What the fuck Jake?!” but as soon as you yelled at him, you realized the look on his face. 

He was livid. 

“I’ve been with you the entire fucking weekend,” he snapped, “I didn’t do this.” 

You faced back to the TV, watching the rest of the news coverage, “If it wasn’t you, then who did it?” 

Jake pushed himself from the couch, ruffling his hands in his hair, pacing back and forth, “I don’t fucking know, but whoever they are, they are a fucking imposter!”

Jake was angry for more than one reason:

1: Whoever the fuck this person is, they fucked up so hard by leaving their mask at the scene.  2: They were trying to impersonate him.  3: WHY THE FUCK ARE THEY IMPERSONATING HIM?!

You stared at the TV screen, trying to process everything. Jake noticed it, how quiet you were, getting scared you were doubting him. So he rushed to you, kneeling before you and taking your face in his hands, “Honey. I promise you it wasn’t me. I’ve been here with you the whole weekend.”

You nodded. You knew he was here with you. He didn’t leave your side because he was too busy burning his cock in you. It just didn’t make sense. The last Ghost Face killing was about two weeks ago the same night Jake fucked you in the arcade. It was some random guy Jake happened to pass on a late-night walk to clear his head to not go back to the arcade and kill Jay. Jake has been clean since then. 

Jake looked back to the TV, gritting his teeth, “I swear to—“ then his phone started ringing. The vibrations made his skin crawl. 

He pulled his phone from his pocket, seeing Unknown Caller on the screen. 

Jake looked up at you, and it was the first time you saw a small hint of fear in his eyes. 

He accepted the call, placing the device to his ear. 

“Hello, Jake.” 

His eyes widened, hearing the voice changer nod that he uses on the other side of his call, “Who the fuck is this?” 

“Hahaha, you don’t seem surprised that I know your secret?” 

Jake stood up, quickly glancing around the room, “Why would I be? You’re playing the exact same game I do.” 

Whoever this was, they knew Jake’s secret. Studied him. Knows how he kills and even the exact mask brand he wears. If this person was playing Jake’s game, then being in this apartment was no longer safe. Because they were already watching, already listening. 

They laughed again, “Did you like the news? I did it special, just for you.” 

“Go to hell!” Jake barked.

“Oh, but I’d see you there,” they chuckled, “I very much rather just send you there.” 

Jake was tired of these games, “What do you want?” he clenched his fist, “You wanna be the sequel so damn bad don’t you?” 

Silence, but then, “What do you think it is I want?” 

“To be a shitty ass ghost face, but news flash, you’re already doing that.” 

“I’d watch your tone, Jake Sim. It’d be a shame for something to happen to our precious little YN / YLN, wouldn’t it?” Jake’s heart stopped, “Check your texts.” 

Jake removed the phone from his ear, clicking on the newly received texts. The first one was a photo of you at the college in the journal room looking over the corkboard. The second text was a video of you from the bedroom, the curtains were slightly drawn back and you were lifting your shirt off your body, revealing yourself in a black laced bra, and then the video cut off. The third and final text that came through, was a photo of both Jake and you on the couch yesterday morning, both naked as you rode his dick. 

He pressed the phone back to his ear, “I swear to fucking god if you touch her.” 

More laughter, “Maybe you should keep her closer and double check to make sure all windows are closed next time if you don’t want others seeing your…activities.” 

Jake pulled you off from the couch, holding you close to him and repeating, “What. The. Fuck. Do. You. Want.” 

They clicked their tongue, “You’ll know soon enough. Goodbye, Ghost Face.” Then the line went dead. 

Jake tossed his phone across the room, pulling you to his chest tightly, teeth gritting. 

“I’m going to fucking kill whoever that is, and I won’t let them hurt you.”

For the first time, you were genuinely scared. And so was Jake. He wasn’t scared of this imposter, he was scared of what they’d do to you. 

And he won’t stop at nothing until they are six feet under.

— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez

[vivwritesfics]

Hi!! Can you please do one where y/n has been feeling really sick but doesn’t tell lando about it bc he’s been stressed at work and stuff. She ends up kind of being antisocial and rotting in bed bc of her sickness and lando ends up suggesting a break since she doesn’t seem to suit his lifestyle anymore. Y/n ends up running into landos mom at the dr office for a checkup where she finds out she’s pregnant. She asks Cisca to keep it a secret but she ofc tells lando she saw y/n at the dr office. Ending however you want! Thank youuuu

changed slightly buuuuut i like it

Warnings: hospitals, vivi knowing nothing about hospitals

She was sick of everything. Not because she was literally sick of everything, but she was feeling hot and bothered, generally shitty, and her head fucking killed.

Everybody was pissing her off. Her co-workers, her boss. That random guy on the bus that was breathing just a little bit too loud. He noticed her glaring, but went right back to breathing just as loudly.

The minute she got into the apartment, she sagged. She checked the keys on the hook, except no keys were there. It was a little bit of a relief that her boyfriend wasn't home at that minute; there was no telling her close she would have been to snapping at him.

She crawled under the bedsheets, never to emerge again...

Except no because Lando wasn't going to let her rot in bed. When he got home that night, she explained it to him, explained that he was feeling so shitty. Immediately he'd gotten her pain killers, water, and toast.

After four days of her just rotting in their bed, Lando was sick of it. Well, not sick of it, but he was worried. Incredibly worried.

He sat by her bedside and brushed her hair away from her forehead. "I'm begging you to go to the hospital baby," he said and squeezed her hand. "Please."

She stared at him, looking positively grumpy. "I'm fine, Lan," she assured him as she sat up. "I'm gonna go into work tomorrow, I promise."

He released a sigh, but he trusted her. If she said she was fine, then she's fine.

"Keep me updated when I'm racing, please," he said and she agreed.

And she did go into work the next day, but she felt so fucking shitty. She had no choice but to go to the hospital.

Fucking hospitals, she hated them. Sitting there anxiously as she waited to be called into the doctors office. Her knee bounced and she kept her arms wrapped around her midsection, staring down at the floor.

But then she was called into the doctors office. Her steps were quicks as she rushed forward.

"Well, miss L/N," he said as he looked at the results from her bloodwork. "Congratulations, mom!" He pushed the results towards her.

With shaking hands, she picked up the paper and looked at it. Her information, stuff that was too much for her brain to read, and then the results. Yep, she was pregnant. "No," she whispered, shaking her head. "No. No, no, no."

Tears sprung to her eyes as she put the paper back onto the doctors desk. "I-I need to call my mother in law."

No, she couldn't call Lando. Not while he was racing, not while he was on the other side of the world. It would just worry him while he couldn't get to her. So, instead, she called her future mother in law.

Cisca Norris arrived at the hospital as soon as she could. She found her in the waiting room, where she had been stopping herself from freaking out. But her nails were digging into her palms, leaving little crescent shapes in her skin. "Oh, darling," Cisca said as she pulled her to her feet.

As soon as they got outside, she was in tears, barely able to keep herself standing. But Cisca got her into the car and calmed her down. She talked her through it, got her to the point where she was no longer crying.

"I think you should tell Lando," Cisca said, and she immediately shook her head.

"No, Cisca, I can't! I can't, I can't, I can't." It took everything in her to not break down into tears.

But Cisca just squeezed her hands. "You can do this." She waited for a confirming nod before she called Lando.

His voice came loud and clear through the car. "Hey mum," he said, seemingly without a care in the world.

She sucked in a breath. "Lan?" She squeezed.

"Baby?" He couldn't hide the concern in his voice.

Her entire body shook as she squeezed her eye shut. "Lando, you're gonna be a dad."

She was so quiet, it wasn't clear whether Lando had heard it or not. The slight pause he took didn't help. But then, "Holy shit! I'm gonna be a fucking dad! Let's go!"

[runa-falls]

scratches and bites - 3

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader

warnings: explicit 18+, use of demeaning names, biting/marking/scratching, use of venom, a small amount of blood, unprotected sex, creampie (whoops), cumplay (whoops 2x), slight size kink (whoops 3x), bondage (0-0), feelings (bleh), needy wittle miguel :P

a/n: uhhh, this may have gotten away from me -- went from 1k to 4k real fast (or slow bc i'm a slow writer hehe)

summary: miguel o'hara is a grumpy man and you make him grumpy. you regularly go against his orders, create chaos, and invite danger. this is what happens when he's had enough.

w/c: 4.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist

----

“Clean-up crew is on the way. You,” He points sharply in your direction, “come with me.” He roughly passes by you, purposely clipping the edge of your shoulder.

You sulk slightly and follow him into the portal, mood effectively ruined. 

Everything worked perfectly in your eyes. You were able to save the family and a few people inside the building. You even had time to pick up a free hotdog.

“It’s on the house for you, Spider-Woman! Thanks for saving the day!”

“Aw, thanks, dude.” 

Of course, before you could take a bite of your well-earned lunch, O’Hara’s hulking figure was standing over you. He’s angry. 

Gwen wisely scurried off before you all got to the portal and Jess had better things to do than deal with whatever was going on between the two of you. So you’re effectively alone now. Great.

“The fuck did you think you were doing out there?” Miguel’s voice booms off the high ceilings of his office as he leads you toward his desk. He has this pretentiously slow platform that he loves to use to look down on people. You feel like a student that got called to the principal's office. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed–or worse, gotten someone else pulled into your fucking mess.” 

You roll your eyes as soon as he passes, “Oh, come on O’Hara, you were about to bail on a car full of people and left a bunch of workers in the crumbling building because nothing is more important than your dumbass box of scraps and wires!”

He turns stiffly, jaw clenching at your words, but his eyes roam to anything else in the room but you. Like always. “You know we’ve been looking for that equipment for months. If we have any chance to hold back this multiverse annihilator even a few days, we’re gonna take it.” Miguel is as curt as ever, stance stiff as he tries to pretend he’s unaffected. Like he’s convincing himself he’s doing the right thing. And what you did was wrong.

“There were four of us out there, Miguel,” His eyes briefly meet yours at the sound of his given name. Something he has rarely heard you say since you’ve been in Nueva York. “The package was barely a struggle for one of us! You’re telling me we needed four hands to locate and retrieve that shit?” You gesture over to the crate resting on his computer platform. 

He sighs like he’s tired of hearing your voice. Tired of being in the same room as you. His hand smooths over his face, “That’s not the point, Kid.” You could feel warmth blooming inside of your chest at his choice of words. It’s demeaning, and he knows it. As much as you hate him right now, you’re also loving this. You’re finally getting the chance to express all the frustration he’s inspired in you. And it’s satisfying to watch him get all wound up because you actually made the right move. He just can’t admit it.“What you did was beyond idiotic. You could’ve–”

“Well, I didn’t. And I’m not a fucking kid.” You spit out the words. His eyes immediately darken as you raise your voice. Bright cherry to rich blood.  

Miguel rolls his shoulders back from annoyance and briefly closes his eyes. Irritated. You seem to always irritate him. His jaw is tight, and right under his full top lip you can almost make out– “What did I say about interrupting me?” He’s seething, head tilted slightly as pushes away from his desk and off the platform to you. 

His deep voice is so low that you swear you can feel it surrounding you, vibrating the warm air that clings to the thin treads of your suit. “You’re so…” His fists clenched tightly and tension rolls off of him, crashing into you like a wave. “Difficult.” You try to stay brave and hold your head up, unwilling to cower under his superficial anger. “So fucking irritating.” 

This is getting nowhere.

“So that’s why you called me in, hm?” Your voice comes out more breathless than you intended, but really, it’s his fault. This whole time he’s been inching closer and closer to you, taking up all your space. “To call me petty names? Tell me all the things that are wrong with me?” You have to crane your neck to maintain eye contact with him, he’s so close. 

“No.” He drawls the word, his voice deep and muffled. Then you realize. His fangs. The stark change of the air in the room was enough to make your breath hitch. You suddenly feel trapped. 

“I brought you here,” There are only a couple of inches separating your chest from touching his and you swear you can feel his body heat radiating off of him, almost simmering under his suit. “To teach you a lesson.” He leans down slightly, closing in the height distance between the two of you. You haven’t been this close to him since that night. 

“W-what kind of lesson?”

“The kind that’ll persuade you to follow the rules.” Your knees nearly buckle as each word is lightly whispered next to your ear. He keeps his hands to himself, but it still feels like he’s wrapping himself around you. “To listen to me. Like a good girl.” Just as your body begins to mirror his and lean into his space, he backs up and strolls back to his desk. 

Your eyes instantly lower and stay locked onto his spotless steel floors as you listen to him slowly walk away. You feel your face heat in embarrassment as you become more self-aware of the way your body reacted to him. He hadn’t even touched you. 

“Come here.” Your head tilts up slightly at the sound of his voice. He’s sitting back on his desk chair, legs spread confident and inviting as he watches you watch him through hungry eyes. He can tell your mind is brimming with overlapping thoughts as you decide whether to listen to him or not. 

Some part of you worries you’re being lured into a trap. That O’Hara, one of the least genuine people you know, is playing with you. But your body doesn’t really seem to care, already moving until your ankles meet the edge of the barely floating platform. The air around you is cool and empty without his presence. Your body craves more of  Miguel’s natural heat.

“...Closer.” You shuffle over until you’re a couple of feet away, fingers twisting together with uncertainty. He’s looking at you, leering at you. Virtually devouring you with that scarlet stare of his. If he wanted, he could reach over and pull you closer, eliminating the space between you, but he decidedly doesn’t, clearly wanting you to come to him. 

“Don’t worry, honey, I don’t bite – oh wait,” He grins at his own joke, fangs proudly poking out from under his plump lips. You don’t realize how hard you're biting your lip until it starts to seriously sting. Your teeth release your aching lip and his gaze follows the action before meeting your eyes. 

“Unless you want me to.” You haven’t uttered a word in a while and you don’t really want to. You’re completely content to continue to soak in the words that slip from his tongue. “Do you?” 

Yes.

“Do I…”

“...want me to bite you.” He openly runs his soft tongue over the contours of his fangs. 

Yes.

“B-bite…?”

“Mhm. Make you all numb and pliant for me?” He finally reaches over and gently tugs you closer by your arm. You let him. “That what you want, hermosa?” Your body slots seamlessly in the space between his thighs. His face cradles perfectly into the crook of your neck. You sigh, subconsciously leaning closer as his tender lips hover sweetly over your covered throat. 

He whispers, barely audible against your skin, “Promise it’ll only hurt for a second.” 

Yes.

“Yes.” 

He doesn’t waste any time. 

A hand drifts up your arm to the flexible collar of your suit. He tugs it down lightly, revealing your bare skin to the cool air. It’s not enough for him. With a hushed tear, he uses a claw to split the fabric down to the top of your shoulder, giving him more access to your body. He pushes your hair back and nudges himself closer to you, nose nestling where your neck meets your shoulder. He breathes you in. “Sweet.” His voice barely carries with how soft he says it.  

The balmy heat of his breath sweeps along the side of your neck before his lips finally connect. His hands trail against your waist, slowly caressing you as he slowly presses kisses into your skin, trailing his lips down until he finds the spot. You tilt your head to the side as you feel the light scratch of his fangs. 

“Hold on to me, baby.” Your gloved hands grip his thick forearms. He bites down. 

It hurts in the beginning like you thought it would. Like he said it would. You try to disguise your wince, but you can’t stop the way your body flinches at the sensation. It’s intense, the sharp pain, and it spreads, traveling down from your neck to your toes. 

And then, something clicks. It vanishes. That ache gets replaced with an endless warmth that relaxes every muscle in your body. Your hands, once clenched around Miguel, begin to loosen so the only thing that’s holding you up is him. 

Everything touching your skin feels amazing. The heat of his hands. The suit that's starting to slowly fall down your shoulder. 

Your eyes glaze over with pleasure as you watch him pull away from your body to look at you. His tongue pokes out, swiping over his bottom lip to collect the mixture of residual venom and your blood. Are you bleeding? You lean closer and your hands reach out for his shoulders. 

“That good, hm?” Even his voice feels good. 

You use his solid form to keep you steady as you boldly crawl onto his lap, “Really, really, good.” He hums and you feel his chest vibrate against yours. His arms easily wrap around your form as he waits patiently for you to get comfortable on top of him.

In this moment you realize how this will change everything. And you’re not talking about the bit.-- Ok, not just the bite. 

It’s seeing him like this that flips your world. Feeling his touch. The gentle way he holds you against him and the patient way he lets your fingers trail down his strong chest until you’ve decided you’ve had enough. He makes you feel special. Wanted. Everything that you’ve craved since you followed him here. The same thing he offered you before taking it away. 

So you’re scared. You don’t know if you could ever let this go because you know you’ll always yearn for moments like this. If he pushes you away again…

The fog in your head dissipates and it’s like you’re waking up. You catch his eye and his brows furrow. He senses something’s wrong. His hand cradles yours and gives you a comforting squeeze. 

“What is it?” 

“Don’t leave me.” 

“What do you mean?” His eyes are sincere as they try to read your crestfallen expression. 

“Just…” You exhale slowly and rest your forehead against his shoulder. “Don’t do this then walk away, Miguel.” Your words hang in the air for a few seconds as he takes them in. 

Great, you ruined the mood. “Look, Miguel, I–” He softly lifts your head and leans in to press his forehead against yours. You’re so close he could probably feel your eyelashes brush against his cheeks. 

“Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.” He draws you in and kisses you deeply, taking your breath away with his tender touch. It feels like a promise like he’s signing the dotted line of your heart. “I’m yours.” It’s whispered against your lips when he pulls back and you can help the grin that sprouts from his words. He matches it. 

“Yeah?”

You’re pulled back in, “Mhm…” Muffled, but absolute. 

Kissing Miguel is exactly how you imagined it to be: addictive. 

Maybe it’s the residual venom left on his tongue, but the way he moves against you, mouth and body, makes your legs tremble. Makes you ache for him.

You melt against him, drunk on his taste and leaning in for more. His hands go from cradling your face and delicately tracing your neck to massaging your thighs, hands practically draping over you with the size difference. 

He delicately licks into your mouth, greedily taking in every aspect of your taste. Your lips vibrate excitingly when his tongue brushes against them, they’re super sensitive from how long he’s been working them. 

You feel him under you, nestled achingly against your ass. He throbs eagerly every time you let out a breathless sigh or a muffled moan. You’re no better. You swear you already have a wet spot ruining your suit from all the times he ‘accidentally’ grips his claws into the curve of your hips.  

You whimper quietly when you feel the sharp point of his fang drags ever so slightly across your bottom lip. As he moves downwards, it delicately tugs at it, briefly revealing the bottom row of your teeth before releasing it. He moves his mouth along the line of your jaw and then focuses on the sensitive bite he left to bloom red and purple on your neck. 

With his hands back on your waist, he starts to lick up the small droplets of blood that were staining trails down your shoulder. It stings wonderfully as he laves against it, cleaning the red off your smooth skin. You can’t help but to cry out as he begins to suck at your sensitive skin, it’s a bit more intense than you were expecting, but it feels really good. He blows cool air on it when he releases your skin, soothing the new mark he’s left on you. 

His mouth is back on yours, letting you taste your own blood as your tongues intermingle with fervor. Fingers tug at the front of your suit to pull you impossibly closer as your teeth nash against one another. You hear a faint rip between you as his grip tightens and pulls at the stretchy material. Your skin quickly reacts as the cool air wraps around you, arms prickling with goosebumps and nipples tightening into hard buds. 

You both pull back and look down at the damage. Your suit is split down the middle of your torso, revealing everything from your heaving chest to your belly button. Your body ignites with heat when you notice how his crimson eyes drink you in. A soft growl vibrates from his chest. 

“Miguel, this is the only suit I have.” 

“My bad.” Zero remorse in his voice. Asshole. 

He abruptly grabs both of your wrists and pulls them behind you with one hand causing you to arch your back, inevitably giving him a better look. “God, you’re sexy.” His other hand slowly molds over your waist and smooths it upwards to grasp your tit with a playful squeeze. Using his gloved thumb, he teases the soft peak of your nipple, flicking it once just to hear you gasp. He does it once more, grinning (with his fangs cutely poking out) when you react the same way.

“Miguel…” You whine out, pouting at his teasing. 

He idly drags his claws down your stomach, enjoying the way your breath hitches when he gets closer to your center. “You always go without a bra under there?”

“It’s a tight suit.”

“It is…” His hand trails down to your inner thigh and you shift slightly, leaning back so he can touch exactly where you need him. He gets the hint and gently cups you over your damp suit. “And here…?”

Your bottom lip tucks into your mouth as you look up at him, nodding softly. “And there.” 

You’re suddenly being carried by Miguel, weight supported by his strong arms. You have to quickly wrap your arms around his neck to keep yourself from falling backward. He hurriedly takes you over to his desk and sets you down at the edge of the waist-level table. 

He is so tall that you struggle a bit to keep your hold around his neck so you settle your hands back on his chest. You push at his firm figure and sit back to fully take him in. “And how about you?”

“Me?”

“Do you wear anything under that unbearably tight suit?”

“I do, actually. Wanna see?” 

You’ve heard the rumors of Miguel’s nano-suit, but you’re still perplexed when he grabs his interdimensional watch from the desk next to you. He clicks a couple of holographic buttons and you watch in awe as his suit seems to dissolve off of him, one particle at a time, like it never existed in the first place. The fading red and navy reveal his perfectly muscled body, somehow making him look even bigger in front of you. 

He did, in fact, have some briefs on under the suit, but it’s what’s under it that catches your attention. Your thighs clench together as you watch him set down the timepiece, his arm unintentionally flexing under the dim lighting.

Miguel returns to you and you spread your legs slightly so he can stand directly in front of you. You slowly reach out to him, palm to the skin, and soak in the natural heat of his body. You can feel his heart beating under his chest, slow and steady. 

“You’re hot.” 

He has that teasing grin back on his face, “Am I?”

“I mean…warm.”

He shrugs, “Us Spiders run hot.”

Miguel moves your hand off of him and sets it on the table before pushing his body closer to you, making your legs push out further. He leans in so close that you have to slowly tilt your body back with him. “Bet you’re warmer.”

 He shifts your body further onto the table and then starts working on the rest of your suit. It tears easily from your body, scraps falling to the floor until you’re fully bare in front of him. You pant as you watch him and feel your center pulse in reaction to his rough handling. “There we are.” His voice is soothing, but his eyes flash dangerously. You arch your back slightly as his claws scrape lightly over your stomach to your most sensitive area. You don’t even have to look down to know you’re dripping, you can feel it all over your inner thighs. 

His fingers glide over your glistening lips, spreading your eager wetness leisurely. His claws are gone. You watch his face as he stares at his actions, his hungry eyes dark with lust. You both groan when one finger dips in, pushing gently against your entrance. You’re practically gushing around him as he starts to move, wet sounds accompanying each thrust. A string of slick follow his hand as he pulls away and it drips carelessly on your flushed thigh. With hooded eyes, Miguel holds up his dripping finger, “Open.” You suck on him enthusiastically, holding his gaze as it’s slipped into your mouth. “Fuck.”

His briefs are shoved down his muscular thighs before you can look down and you’re shoved roughly onto your back. You feel his claws dig into your thighs as he spreads you out for him, pushing them back until they're next to your waist. His warm hardness slides against your weeping pussy, covering him in slick as he prepares himself. 

Your breath hitches as his cock pushes inside of you, nearly stretching you to your limit. You try your best to take deep breaths, but it’s hard when you can literally feel each inch sinking into your body. A throaty groan rumbles in his chest as he feels you involuntarily clench around him, invariably sucking him in further. His eyes are almost glowing with how bright red they are. “Relax for me baby, I’m almost in.” 

Your thighs tremble under his hands as he continues to plunge in deeper, unable to keep up with all the stimulants surrounding you. The feeling of him dragging against your walls is exquisite and you can barely hold yourself back from cumming right there. 

Then he starts moving. 

His hips drag back, pulling almost all the way out before he buries himself back inside of you. Your head tilts back with pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut, you can’t even tell what you’re holding on to. He keeps this slow pace, body nearly engulfing you as he hovers above. A moan follows each thrust as he fucks you into his desk.  

When your eyes are finally able to flutter back open, you meet his stare. You quickly attempt to hide your face with your arm, too embarrassed to hold eye contact with him while he’s using your body like this. He doesn’t like that. 

Your wrists are forced above you and then expertly webbed together to hold them there. His red webs pulse hot around your wrists. Unlike the traditional webs that tend to feel like cool lace, his are warm, like fingers wrapping tightly around your wrists, almost thrumming with soft heat in a way that makes them feel alive. 

You yelp when his hand tugs sharply at the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your gaze as he moves over you. “Look at me, baby.” You listen. He begins to aim his thrusts upwards into you, nudging against that special spot inside of you. And as hard as you try to keep looking at him, your eyes inevitably roll back as he hits it so precisely. You faintly see stars. 

You cry out as heat blooms your center and your thighs close around his hips, tightening as a spark swarms in your lower belly. “That’s it, baby,” He speeds up, feeling you start to clench around him, “let go.” 

Your vision blurs when your climax blasts through your body. Hot tears spill from the intensity of the feeling, creating hot trails of wetness over your cheeks. “Such a pretty little thing." He wipes them away lovingly. Your body jerks with pleasure and Miguel has to hold your waist down as your back starts to arch off the desk. 

He doesn’t stop. If anything, he starts fucking you harder, letting his body weight hold you in place as he chases his own high. You whine against his neck, skin sticky with sweat, as he roughly ruts into you. “Be mine, baby, and I’ll take care of you forever.” His claws dig into your web-pasted wrists as he works himself into you, post-orgasm slick smothered carelessly over the both of you. “I promise.” He whispers breathlessly next to your ear.

“Please.” The word is nearly stuck in your throat as he continues to take everything your body is willing to give him. He’s basically grinding his cock into you now, wanting you as close as possible for these last moments. You barely hear it but he whimpers against your shoulder as he starts to draw closer to his climax, desperately rutting his hips against you. 

With a choked-out groan, his movements grow sloppy and he thrusts deep inside of you a few more times. You feel the warmth of him as he spills inside of you, filling you up to the brim. He’s panting above you, body weight nearly smothering yours. You love it. 

He slowly pulls out once he’s calmed down, eyes locked onto your leaking center that’s full of a mixture of you and him. His fingers lovingly spread his cum over your pussy and you flinch as he slides against your sensitive clit. You give him a look of disapproval which he ignores as he pushes his mess back inside of you. 

“Will you let me out of these now?” You pull at the webs, still holding your arms above you.

“Hm…I think I’ll keep you there for a little bit longer.”

–

His office is like a bat cave when you’re barely dressed. There’s a slight breeze in the office (you have no clue where it’s coming from) that’s making it particularly drafty. You force Miguel to huddle over you like some oversized puffer jacket as it was his fault the only clothes you came with are lying on the floor in scraps.

“How am I supposed to leave when my suit is in tatters?”

His arms hold you tighter, “You aren’t. You’re staying with me.” 

“Miguel, people are probably looking for us by now.”

“I don’t care.”

“Miguel.”

“Alright, fine. You can borrow one of my nano-suits, but we’re going to my place.” 

“Dude, you’re like 6’3”, how am I supposed to fit into one of those?”

He tsks, “Really? You’re calling me ‘dude’ after all of this?” He grabs his watch again, scrolling through some settings. “It’s nano-tech, sweetheart, it fits what I want it to fit.” He dials the size down, letting you watch as the hologram shrinks to display your general size. “And I’m 6’7.” 

-----

taglist: @deputy-videogamer @syd-vixious @bachirasbasics @danaeaurelia @reuxxi @halparkebitch @kittekat420

[yunhoszn]

(this is user sourkimchi pls don’t perceive me on main lmao)

i saw another user post this abt this hongjoong fit and it’s been living in my head rent free…

as a fellow asian rave bisexual.. i need a fic for this concept 🫣

(not so) alcohol-free

PAIRING kim hongjoong x f!reader

WORD COUNT 3.46k

GENRES fluff?﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, clubbing scene, reader feels self conscious, mentions of alcohol, strangers to lovers?, ummmmm hardly any plot tbh half of the wc is porn, couch sex, little bit of foreplay (vaginal fingering), some marking here and there i think, cowgirl position, missionary, protected sex, allusions to multiple rounds of unprotected sex, not beta’d or proofread bc we rawdog this shit like men

SUMMARY notorious for canceling plans at the last minute, you finally let your friends drag you out for a night at the club. however, a chance encounter with the prettiest man you’ve ever seen has the night turning to something unexpected.

MORE AAAAAAND i finally finished my first request LOLLLLL here u go yves!! i kinda strayed away from the main idea bc i wanted to make it my own, but i hope this meets ur expectations <3

@atzhouse

You had a natural affinity for canceling plans at the last minute. You’re not sure why, especially because you always get an awful case of FOMO every time you do. It’s your own fault that you feel left out when your friends get together without you.

No matter how far in advance you plan for the event, you somehow still find a way to lose your motivation to go. You haven’t properly hung out with your friend group in months, so when they start talking about clubbing tonight, you immediately say yes. 

At first, you think you’ll change your mind an hour later, since it’s only an afternoon’s notice. But when you realize your friends will be here to pick you up in thirty minutes and you’re finishing your makeup, you nearly jump for joy. You successfully stuck it out for once. 

Even as you’re sandwiched between Wooyoung and Mingi in the backseat, San in the drivers’ seat and his girlfriend in the passenger, you’re still shocked that this is your reality. You’re actually dolled up and you’re actually on your way to a club right now. 

“Y/N, do you remember the signal if someone hits on me?”

“Wooyoung, no one’s hitting on you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Mingi. It could happen.”

You snort, pulling your skirt down a little. “Woo, we should come up with a signal for if I get hit on.”

“Yeah, Y/N’s more likely to get laid than you are even though she’s bitchless, too.” Mingi nods, adjusting his sunglasses. (You have no idea why he’s wearing sunglasses at 10 PM.)

“Kill your—”

“We’re here!” San announces, effectively putting a pin in any argument that was about to begin. As long as your friendship with the males spanned, he’s always been the mediator. You’ve known the three of them dating all the way back to high school, lumped in the same homeroom your freshman year. The four of you sat in the same general vicinity and got grouped together for a project once and you’ve been inseparable ever since. 

You know you look hot, Wooyoung wolf-whistling at you the moment you started walking towards the car, but you still feel a bit insecure. It probably has everything to do with the fact that you don’t go out much and you’re self-conscious as is. Stepping into the crowded club, a scene that could only be compared to a sardine can, has you shrinking in on yourself. 

Instinctively, you tug on the hem of your skirt to attempt to cover your ass a little more. Then you wrap your arms around your midriff, though your cleavage leaves pretty much nothing to the imagination. You swallow thickly as your trail behind your friends, like a lost puppy with its tail between its legs. 

This is why you always back out of plans. You feel so out of place, like you don’t fit in even when people try to include you. It feels like everyone’s staring at you, waiting for one wrong move so they can point and laugh like you were the butt of some sort of weird joke. You’re ready to go home. 

“Are you okay?” Mingi asks once you’ve settled at an empty high table just a few feet from the dance floor. Through his stupid sunglasses, you can make out the concern on his features. 

“Yeah, I think so,” your lips purse, arms hugging yourself tighter. “I just haven’t been out in so long. I feel… like I shouldn’t be here or something. I’ll be fine. I hope.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, but doesn’t ask any more questions, instead turning to San and his girlfriend who were about to make a trip to the bar. Your poison for the night is simple, a plain margarita that’ll ease your nerves more than anything else. You weren’t much of a beer person, often opting for fruitier, sweeter drinks in comparison to your male counterparts. (When you do go out with them, that is.)

Wooyoung and Mingi fall into a heated discussion about who knows what, leaving you to become a third wheel while you wait for the couple to come back with your drinks. You people-watch to pass the time, chewing on the inside of your lip, your eyes flitting around the club like some kind of guilty criminal. Almost immediately, they land on a guy in the middle of the dance floor. 

He’s hypnotizing, body fluidly moving to the song the DJ’s playing and matching the energy of his friend standing next to him, two girls in front of and facing them. His dark hair falls into his eyes slightly, though parted and styled damn near perfectly. He’s dressed in a black tweed jacket, a white button up left open enough to reveal a couple necklaces resting on his sternum, some ripped jeans, and black boots. But none of that is what caught your attention. 

You’re entranced by his smile, its brightness and how fucking pretty he looks wearing it. You caught the tail-end of something his friend said that made him laugh, and you feel yourself being pulled in deeper and deeper without a single conversation with him. Too bad he seems unavailable. 

“Woah, N/N, might wanna wipe your chin,” Wooyoung teases, a stupid smirk on his face that you want to punch away. “I think you’re drooling a little.”

Mingi howls with laughter, falling onto the table to support himself. He clutches at his stomach as it cramps up from how hard he’s laughing. It wasn’t even that funny. You roll your eyes. 

“Shut up, Wooyo.” 

“Who are you even staring at?” He inquires, resting his elbows on the high top surface, his chin placed on his hands. He blinks at you expectantly, like he’s not letting you off the hook. You avoid his gaze, simultaneously ensuring that you don’t look in the attractive stranger’s general direction either. This all felt so elementary. 

“None of your business.” You murmur, ducking your head. Thankfully, San and his girlfriend return to the table with your drinks perfectly timed, and the topic is dropped completely. 

The first sip of your margarita is damn near heavenly, the alcohol flowing through your system smoothly and calming that storm waging in your mind. It’s not too strong, just enough that another couple drinks would inebriate you entirely. It aids with the anxiety of being in such a packed space, but that feeling of not belonging still sits inside your chest. 

You can’t help but look for the stranger again, who’s no longer on the dance floor. Now he’s on the other side of the club at another high table. His friend is still with him, but the girls from before are nowhere to be found. You focus on his hands and the chunky rings on his fingers, the way he holds his beer bottle, the way his free hand runs through his hair. Your tongue twirls around the straw in your glass out of habit, enthralled by this man who has yet to give you the time of day. 

Except when you glance up to admire his face, you discover that he’s already looking back at you. He’s nodding along to his friend’s words, but his eyes are zeroed in on you, a different kind of smile playing on his lips. Your features fall slightly from being caught red handed, cheeks warming up significantly. You aren’t sure what’s more embarrassing, caught gawking at a stranger by your own friend or by the stranger himself. Truly, the universe was out to get you. 

You down the rest of your margarita and excuse yourself to go to the restroom, needing a second to gather your bearings. Your skin is flushed and you have to hold your cheeks between your palms as you psych yourself up in the mirror. Why should you feel ashamed of thinking someone’s hot? You were only human. Besides, you looked good, too. 

When you exit the restroom, you’re shocked to see the stranger walking out of the men’s restroom at the same time. Your eyes are wide and your body freezes. He gives you that smile from before, ruffling his hair as if this interaction wasn’t difficult enough. 

“I was hoping I’d bump into you,” he says, unabashedly drinking in your figure. “It’s not everyday someone as gorgeous as you crosses my path.”

So he’s a flirt. Noted. 

“I could say the same,” you manage to get out, though your palms are already clamming up. “If fleeting glances across a dance floor count as crossing paths.”

He laughs and you swear it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard. A couple girls come into the hallway, and you maneuver so they can go into the women’s restroom. His hand comes to rest on your lower back when your balance wavers slightly. 

“I’m Hongjoong, by the way,” he introduces himself since he’s in such close proximity to you now. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Yeah, sure,” you nod, too distracted by how much prettier he is only inches away from you. “I’d like that.”

Hongjoong leads you to the bar, a gentle hand wrapped around your wrist so he doesn’t lose you in the crowd. He orders himself a beer and turns to you to ask what you’re having. While waiting for the bartender to whip up your drinks, he strikes up a conversation. 

“Are you gonna tell me your name?” 

You scratch the back of your neck sheepishly. “Oh yeah, sorry… It’s Y/N.”

He repeats it, like he’s testing out the taste in his mouth. The smile that graces his features afterwards says all you need to know. It has butterflies flapping around rampantly in the pit of your stomach, nearly knocking the wind out of you. He thanks the bartender seconds later when he slides your margarita and his beer bottle across the bar. 

“So, Y/N, what brings you out tonight?” He takes a swig from his bottle, one arm leaning onto the surface of the bar. God, the things you would do to him if given the chance…

“Catching up with my friends,” you answer honestly, baby-sipping your margarita through the straw. “I don’t really go out much, because I’m really bad when it comes to canceling plans at the last minute.”

“Should I consider myself lucky then?” Hongjoong quirks a brow, licking his lower lip. If men had anything, it was the audacity. And this man had the audacity to do everything in his power to lure you in with his good looks and charisma. 

“I’ll have you know that this is a one of a kind, once in a lifetime opportunity,” you play along, stirring the slowly-melting ice cubes around your glass. “You’re a very fortunate man.”

“Yeah?” He laughs again and you think you might faint right here and now. He looks off to the other side of the club and then back at you. “I think Prince Charming over there is looking for you.”

He points at the table where your friends are, and you find that Wooyoung is glancing around in search of something, or someone. Namely you. It’s most likely because you went to the restroom and then never returned. He’ll live. 

“Wooyoung? Nah, he’s just being a good friend. I raised him right,” you turn back to him, sipping at your drink leisurely. “Now where were we? Something about you being lucky?”

“Hwa, I’ll— shit— I’ll have to call you back,” Hongjoong forces out, promptly hanging up so he can focus on putting you in your place. You’re like a damn leech, lips attached to his neck, marking the supple skin like it was your job. Your hands paw at the button of his jeans, your lower half grinding down on his lap. “So fucking impatient. Can’t even wait until I’m off the phone?”

“Want you too bad, Joong,” you pout, slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt, his jacket lost somewhere near the front door. He groans when the nickname falls from your mouth. You had no idea how sexy you were.

The two of you were so insatiable, you couldn’t even make it to the bedroom, collapsing on his couch. You hardly had the mind to message your friends to let them know your whereabouts. His hands hold your ass firmly, halting you from any further teasing. You whine, pushing his shirt off of his shoulders. Your nails drag down his toned abdomen, enjoying the way it tenses beneath your touch. After all he’s put you through tonight, you think you at least deserve a bit of payback. Just a bit. 

“Are you too antsy to make it through foreplay?” He coos and presses a quick kiss to your lips, trailing a few along your jawline. Your eyes flutter shut with a hum and a nod. It was true. If he didn’t fuck you soon, you feared you might go insane. 

“I need you inside me already,” you whine, trying to spread your legs and create more friction downstairs. He chuckles at how desperate you are, how touch starved you must be considering you don’t get out much. It fuels his pride knowing he’s the only one to see you like this, to have you like this, for the first time in who knows how long. If he’s successful, maybe he’ll be the only one ever. 

Hongjoong bunches your skirt around your waist, sneaking a hand between your bodies to rub tight, gentle circles into your clothed clit. A blissful sigh escapes you, your forehead dropping to his shoulder. The cocky smile you’ve grown to adore over the course of the night decorates his lips at how quickly he has you falling apart at his fingertips. 

His middle and ring digits push your underwear to the side, sliding down your slit to prod at your entrance. He nips at the base of your throat, working his way up to the spot behind your ear. Your sighs grow into whimpers, squirming around on his lap when he applies pressure to your cunt with the pad of his middle finger. 

“You’re so wet, sweetheart,” he mutters into your skin, shivers running down your spine from the low register he uses. He circles his digit around your hole, not quite giving you what you need. “You weren’t kidding about how bad you wanted me.”

You’re about to quip back, but then he’s inserting a finger and rubbing your clit with his thumb. You gasp, biting down on his collarbone to ground yourself. As much as you would love to sit here and let him finger you until sunrise, you have bigger priorities. “Mmm, Joong, please… Fuck me, please…”

He kisses his teeth, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. He supposes he can satiate your hunger, though he really wanted to take his time with you. “Do you think you can be still while I put the condom on?”

You pull back and nod enthusiastically, sitting on your haunches slightly, fingers locked behind his neck. “I’ll be so good, I promise. I just need you, like, now.”

All he can do is laugh, and you melt into a puddle in his arms. You’ve concluded that smile of his would quite honestly be the death of you. He removes his fingers from your pussy, instead squeezing your hip before helping you onto the couch cushion beside him. You rest on your knees as he unbuttons his jeans and kicks them off, swiftly grabbing his wallet out of his pocket and plucking a condom from it. In the same breath, he’s taking off his underwear and tugging you back on top of him. 

He places the foil packet between his teeth so he can quickly aid you in the discarding of your panties. Now that your cunt is bare, you can feel the heat of his cock and it’s so hypnotic. Your eyes can barely stay open as you watch him tear open the condom packet and roll it on. He’s the perfect thickness and the perfect length, and you feel so special straddling his lap right now. 

Hongjoong kisses you softly, gripping your waist so he can guide you to sit on his cock. The first breach of your entrance has a shaky exhale leaving your lips against his own. You stay like that for a second so you can adjust to the feel of him inside of you, the fullness in your lower half, and overall just how fucking good it feels. He grins when you slowly start bouncing up and down, his dick thrusting in and out under you. 

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” He pecks your cheek, moving downward and reaching behind your back to untie your halter top. It slips off of you with ease, revealing your tits to him. 

“So good, Joong… Feels so good,” you arch into him, whining and moaning every time he brushes that crook in your cunt that has you seeing stars. He peppers kisses all over your chest and sternum, scraping his teeth along the skin of your breast. You whimper, nails sinking into his back and your toes curling. You’re completely aware of what’s going on, but those two margaritas have to be contributing to the pleasure swirling in your abdomen. 

“Yeah? You’re taking me so fucking well,” His eyebrows knit together when you switch your pace, sitting on him fully and letting his cock fill you for a couple seconds. In reality, your knees were starting to ache and get tired, something he recognizes instantly because he was so attentive. 

His hand holds the small of your back and he flips you so you’re in missionary on the couch now without skipping a beat. The change in position allows for a change in angle, his dick dragging against your velvety walls deliciously. Your sounds grow in volume, scratching his back when he pushes one of your knees to your chest. 

You weren’t anticipating to end up here at the end of the night, but you don’t think you could dare complain. While a majority of this night felt like a fever dream, you feel a high that’s never taken over you before. 

Hongjoong’s hair falls into his eyes as he glances down at where your bodies meet, his cock disappearing inside of you and then sliding out with ease. You intertwine your fingers behind his head, pulling him down so you can connect your lips in a fervent, passionate kiss. That familiar summit is within view now, your hand nudging his own to your clit so you can inch closer towards it. 

His thumb swipes side to side on the sensitive bundle of nerves, never once breaking your kiss. There’s so much stimulation going on for you, you’re starting to feel dizzy. In a good way. He’s gentle in a way that’s still rough enough to knock the daylights out of you and the juxtaposition makes the moment all the more enjoyable. 

“‘M so close, Joong,” you arch off the sofa in an attempt to be closer to him, to sandwich yourself between him and the couch. 

His thrusts become faster and more calculated, but he doesn’t break the focus on your clit. His efforts come to fruition and he mumbles words of encouragement for you as you finally reach that boiling point. A strangled moan falls from your mouth and you spread your legs to suck him in further. 

The uncontrollable fluttering of your walls following your climax is almost too much for him and he has to pull out. Your eyes are half lidded, nimble fingers rolling off the condom. He fucks his fist until he’s painting the area between your tits with his cum.

The two of you don’t move right away, regaining your composure. He leans down to kiss you sweetly, and then repeats the action all over your face until you’re a giggly mess. This is probably the best sex you’ve ever had in your life, and part of you doesn’t want to go home— whether that be later or tomorrow morning. 

“Do you have the energy to go again, or should I go grab a warm washcloth to clean you up?” He raises an eyebrow at you, indicating that he’s just joking but he’s totally down if you are. You laugh, running your fingers through his hair. 

“If you give me a minute, I’m all set to do that again,” you start, resting your eyes for a second. “You don’t have to worry about a condom this time. I kinda wanna feel you raw.”

Hongjoong laughs in disbelief, glancing away from you and then letting his forehead fall onto your shoulder. “What have I gotten myself into…”

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost. 

[brotherwtf]

Scientist or Mathematician Gale being guarded by spy Bucky.

oh now this one is very interesting,, hmm let's see let's see

Gale is a well respected scientist, got his PhD at Harvard in astrophysics and continues to research and teach

However, some stuff he's been presenting recently has put a target on his back and he's constantly in danger whenever he goes

He's put under the protection of an agent, Bucky, who's supposed to stay with him at all times, almost like a bodyguard but mostly to keep him safe and transport him to safe houses

Gale doesn't think he needs the protection, he's a scientist, no one actually wants him dead, but Bucky is adamant on staying with him the whole time

What if he's speaking at some point and someone comes into the stage and threatens to kill him, has a gun out and everything, and only then does Gale realize he's in trouble

Insert Bucky being all "I told you so", and Gale rolls his eyes and apologizes for doubting him

They spend a lot of time together moving across the country, Gale still tries to do some research while Bucky just sits back and makes fun of him (affectionate)

Gale is trying to get Bucky to tell him his real name, but Bucky says something stupid like "That's only reserved for my family and my lover" and now Gale is dead set on finding out his name

Of course they start to care for each other deeply while Bucky is taking care of Gale; Gale will hound Bucky about not getting enough sleep and Bucky will push him off, swears it's fine and he can sleep later

Imagining them on a train together where there's ONLY ONE BED (and the crowd goes wild) and Bucky says he can sleep in the chair, but Gale insists on having him sleep in the bed and hilarity ensues

Cue them waking up in each other's arms and Gale just so absolutely flustered while Bucky has a smirk on his face and Gale asks Bucky to never speak of it again

What if they get intercepted before they get to a safehouse and Gale is in real danger, getting shot at and chased through the train station while Bucky tries to protect him

Oh no!! Bucky gets hurt!! and Gale has to get them out of this situation!! He's able to heroically drag Bucky to a hotel room away from the danger and just shakes the entire time bcs Bucky is really hurt

Here's how the conversation goes:

"Come on Bucky, don't die on me, come on"

"I ain't gonna die Gale, just, fuck, come on I'm losing a lot of blood,"

"I know, god I know, I just.... I can't lose you, Bucky" "My name's John,"

"John?"

"Yeah kinda silly, ain't it? Not as big and tough sounding as Bucky,"

"John... what does that make me then? Your family or your lover?"

"Take a wild guess"

and then they kiss for like four hours even though John is still technically hurt lol

I really liked this prompt!! it made me think of some stuff I never would have, thank you for the ask!! lmk if y'all have anymore hcs for this concept

[hero-of-the-wolf]

What are your thoughts on each LU hero?

cracks knuckles long post incoming!!

I feel like a lot of people forget about how much of a gremlin Time really is. He's cryptic for the bit, because he thinks it's funny, but he's absolutely willing to talk about things when asked (like when he told Wind about his entire adventure). Yeah this man's got trauma, but at the point he's at now he's healed a lot. I also think that he's just incredibly awkward, and it makes him come across as aloof and ✨mysterious✨

Twilight is the softest dorkiest Link by far and I will DIE on this hill. He's the biggest big brother to ever brother, and he vibes like someone who feels most useful when he's taking care of other people. It's very important to him. My boy is also so so stubborn like who the heck thinks it's a good idea to try and walk off an axe wound to the gut 😭 also I know in my heart that he gives the best hugs ever and I think a hug from him would fix me actually

People like to make Warriors this shallow jerk??? and he's NOT. He's really really not. He's just a big brother and he loves to tease. He's also really smart too, esp with battle tactics and working with other people. Also this man def knows field medicine like look at him whenever one of the others is downed in a fight, he's always right there making sure that they're okay.

Four is so so clever and really good at teamwork (obviously lol). but like!!! I love how throughout LU you can actively see him working really well with the others and accounting for their skills and where they are in battle, like in The Shadow arc he ducks down so Time can land a hit and it's a really cool scene. I also love his inside jokes with himself lol. He keeps his secrets just because he's waiting for a big dramatic reveal and I respect him for it.

Wind makes the best facial expressions HANDS DOWN. He's such a big brother too, and even tho he's the youngest Link I'm sure he still big brothers all the others lol. Also!!! This kid literally made the gods choose him as a hero. At every turn literally nobody took him seriously and he proved himself and killed Ganondorf!!! I'm so proud of him. ALSO Wind is so smart. He's the first one to start piecing together the timeline(s)!!

Wild is honestly super hyper competent?? Boy knows how to live off the land. He's smart. He chooses to be silly bc he enjoys being silly, not bc he's stupid. Also he was literally a prodigy!!!! That doesn't go away just because he lost his memories. He basically started out with the master sword (as in he started his knighthood with the sword already in hand), he defeated a guardian with a pot lid, also he knows how to cook lol. He's fine vibing by myself, but he's also happy to hang out with the others too :) also yeah he has a lot of trauma and guilt over everything that happened :(

Legend's harshness to me is def a projection. A coping mechanism, if you will. Boy's got such a soft heart (bunny hehe) and he wants to protect it from getting hurt again. That doesn't stop him from loving and caring about the others, he's just more guarded about it. And despite everything he's been through... he still loves adventuring. He really does.

Hyrule's got SO much grit and sheer determination. And he's so powerful too, even if he doesn't think that he is. He's got spells!!! That's something none of the others really have. Boy's got the toughest enemies in the entire franchise, too. He survived the Adventure of Link. That's insane lol also he's got SUCH just a little guy energy fr and I love that for him

I think people also forget what a troublemaker Sky is. And he absolutely gets away with all of it too bc like just look at his face. Is that the face of someone who's ever done something wrong in their entire life? yes. yes it is But he's also genuinely so so sweet too and yeah he def gives really great hugs. Also he's an insanely talented swordsman??? Like there's a reason he's called the Godslayer™️ lol. Sky is SCARY when he's angry. He just doesn't get angry all that easily.

[whorefordean]

ghost of you || d.w

pairing-dean winchester x reader

wc-1.4k

tw-grief, angst, slight mentions of suicide, death, set in 15x20 (so dean is… yk), hallucinations i guess?, pet names (sweetheart is the main name used for reader)

a/n- my grandma passed away recently and i wrote this sorta as a way to cope. there is NO happy ending bc sometimes that��s just how things go. anywho pls enjoy <3

the bunker had never been so cold and quiet in the entire time you’d called it home. it was more welcoming on the first day you’d arrive, when the dust layered over all the furniture like a second skin, than it ever could be now.

you stood in the hallway staring at your bedroom door, unmoving, until your knees begged for mercy. when you finally caved, the wall caught you like an old friend. with tear stained cheeks and a blank expression, you slowly slid down even further. the solid concrete sent an uncomfortable chill through your cheek, but you couldn’t be bothered to move.

heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor, but your eyes remained on the door. there was only one person it could be anyways since dean wasn’t coming back anytime soon. worn boots stopped directly in front of your line of vision, soon followed by a familiar face coming into view.

“you gotta get up, sweetheart,” sam’s voice broke the silence. your gaze flicked to meet his as the pet name spilled from his lips. rage settled on your tongue like a bad taste as the name rattled around in your brain.

“don’t call me that,” you seethed, raising your head up slightly before dropping it back to the ground. sam flinched at your words, dropping his gaze to the floor. you had once told him that you preferred the pet name over your actual name. because that’s what dean had called you, sam realized.

“you can’t lay here all day,” sam spoke gently. he reached out to rub your cheek in a soothing manner. your eyes flutter closed and for a moment, you could pretend it was dean again. tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of him. you had done well to keep your mind blank for a while, but the luxury of oblivion was disrupted too soon.

“i haven’t been here all day,” you mumbled mindlessly as you stared ahead.

“it’s been four hours,” sam points out carefully while placing a warm hand on your shoulder. you glance at him briefly to see tears in his eyes too.

“i can’t go to bed,” you mumble with a shrug. sam looks at you confused.

“why not?” he asks. sam watches as your face contorted in pain. his heart aches for you.

“because i can’t go to bed without dean,” you tell him. as the words slip from your mouth, a pained gasp claws it way from your throat leaving sam searching for any words to comfort you.

“he’d want you to be comfortable,” sam tries gently to coax you out of the floor. he flinches when you raise your voice.

“he wouldn’t want anything because he’s dead, sam! dean’s dead, and he’s never coming back! he’s gone, and i’m still here!” you shout, shifting to sit up. the emotions lacing your words cause sam to choke on his own sob.

“why do i have to be here, sam? i don’t wanna be here without him!” you continue your tangent. choking on a sob, you bury your face into your hands, knees tucked tightly into your chest.

“please, i don’t wanna be here!” you wail, staring at the ceiling now. sam tries to speak up if only to comfort you, but he stops short. your words feel like a punch to the gut as he realizes that the here you’re referencing isn’t the bunker. and you’re no longer speaking towards sam.

you’re begging the universe to kill you. you’re crying out to the angels. you’re calling out to jack - god - to put you out of your misery.

“i promised him,” sam starts, sitting down fully now. he crosses his longs legs, and sits directly in front of you. it’s your turn to look at him in confusion.

“what?” you ask, sniffling while wiping your tears. sam watches you with teary eyes, waiting for you to compose yourself. when your sniffling softens, he continues.

“dean made me promise not to let you fall apart. completely, at least,” sam tells you. i shake my head at his confession.

“i can’t do this sam. i can’t,” i whisper. my voice cracks as i look up at him. sam’s expression is one of pure pity. it feels selfish to have him comforting me. sam lost dean too, but he always knew how to get him back. something is… different this time. part of you knows that this is the end. there will be no miracle resurrection this time. this is how it ends for you and dean.

you can hear sam sigh and walk away, patting your leg gently before he goes. as his footsteps descend down the hallway, you lose yourself in the cracks of the wall. your mind drifts to dean, not that he’s actually left your thoughts since… the incident.

“come on, sweetheart,” you hear from your bedroom. you almost yell at sam to go away, but the voice is soothing, soft, as your eyes regain focus. the words roll off his tongue like smooth honey, warmth filling your heart.

“dean?” you speak up quietly as tears brim your eyes. you sit up quickly, staring at the cracked door in front of you. when you receive no answer, you stand up hesitantly, walking up to the door. your hand stutters over the handle before finally pushing it open completely.

the ache in your chest lessens as you stand in the threshold. your breath catches as you stare into the room. beside the bed, dean stands there, waiting for you with a warm smile. you stare at him in disbelief for a moment, not quite sure what to do. you know this isn’t real, but what if…

“you- you’re not real,” you mumble as you stare at dean. it looks like dean. it sounds like dean. and the way he’s staring at you… it feels like dean. the look of love in his eyes isn’t lost on you.

“i know,” is all he says. you look at him pained as he says that.

“then what are you?” you whisper, furrowing your eyebrows in sorrow. dean continues to smile at you gently. you can see the sadness in his expression as he watches you. dean opens his mouth to speak but closes it quickly. you watch him ponder on his answer for a few moments before he finally says something.

“i’m your peace, sweetheart. you know as well as i do that this is gonna be hard. i just need you to make it through tonight. if you can survive tonight, you’ll be okay,” dean promises. you look at him, almost angrily as he says this.

“what does that even mean? you’re dead, dean! i don’t- i don’t know what this is!” you try to argue, but you can feel your energy depleting quickly, though you hadn’t had much to begin with.

“i am dean. i’m your dean. do you trust me?” he asks softly. you stare at him for a moment, breathing heavily, before nodding slowly. dean nods once before speaking again.

“then i need you to lay down. you need to rest, sweetheart,” dean tells you gently. with teary eyes, you agree silently. dean’s shoulders visibly relax, and you can feel your own tension ease slightly. pulling the covers back, you slip into dean’s side of the bed.

dean encapsulates your senses as you drop your head onto his pillow. you are surrounded by him. his smell, his warmth, his love…

“dean,” his name falls from your lips easily. you can hear shuffling around you. the bed dips, at least, you think it does.

“i’m here,” he cooes soothingly. your hair ruffles, and you’re sure it’s dean playing with it. you sigh as you close your eyes.

“can you just stay here until i fall asleep?” you mumble sadly. in your heart, you know this isn’t real. you know it’s a sick game your mind has conjured in the wake of your grief. still, you let yourself lean into it. protection from your own mind is a survival instinct right now, and you’re not sure you’d manage without it.

“yea, sweetheart, i’ll stay. just until you fall asleep,” you hear him answer. his voice is barely audible as your thoughts begin to fade. the ache in your chest returns when it dawns on you that, even though he’s here tonight, dean will not be here when you wake. as much as you want to prolong the inevitable, your body forces you to submit further to sleep. you reach out to grasp his hand but meet the cold sheets instead. you ignore the pain in your chest and clutch at the blankets while allowing yourself to pretend it’s him.

“goodnight, dean,” you mumble softly.

“goodbye, sweetheart.”

[coff-in]

hii this is the anon who requested for that pregnancy fic w the graves siblings >< thank you so much for answering my follow-up questions!! 🥺🤍 I had a bit of thoughts as well as your fic and response made me have a hugggeee brainrot!!

so after everything you had said, I had a strange dream weirdly enough of the scenario and hcs you came up with (I like to read fics and hcs before I sleep, including urs <3) and basically, I was thinking that yes:

• ashley, despite not liking [reader] and kind of terrorising her when andrew became obsessed with her, still pretty much assists in kidnapping and bringing her everywhere despite her protests and horror when she witnesses the grave siblings murder and sacrifice people.

• along the way however, ashley has a bit of .. how shall I put it, tsundere feelings for [reader] <3 falling for her and convincing andrew to have a threesome rape with her eventually

• when [reader] got pregnant (before ashley fell for her) ashley ofc wasn’t too happy about it but also, didn’t allow reader to escape from them with andrew’s baby or to scream for help, in fact, she threatens her that if she tries calling for help or running away, she’ll mutilate her arms and legs and cut her tongue out </3 anything to defend her brother

• ok this is probs a bit dark so feel free to skip this one (my own lactation kink!) but can u imagine while [reader] is pregnant, andrew and ashley notice that [readers] breasts are larger than normal .. and that she is leaking through her shirt … and well they *are* a bit thirsty and could use something sweet … so … they caught [reader] unaware and pretty much forces her shirt up before latching their mouths onto her nipples </3 (ahh the symbolism! kind of like healing their inner child by trying out mommy’s milk) despite reader begging and crying for them to stop, they can’t

• omg also maybe a few months in while reader is still heavily pregnant, andrew and ashley can’t stop getting horny seeing reader waddle around with her pregnant belly and decide to rape her bcs she looks too cute not to molest </3

• ooo omg maybe this same scenario but with male ashley (asher) … hating reader at first but slowly falling for her and now, seeing his big brother having a baby with her, he wants one too! </3

thank you for listening to me ramble 🤧 soo many yummy scenarios 🤍 take care!!!

notes from coff-in: 'NONNIE YOU COOKED!!! YOU COOKED A WHOLE MEAL!!! A DINNER FOR FOUR!!! when i woke up to this at first i was like "wow... that's crazy /positive" but i've came back to my inbox to reread this like 10 times and now i'm like "teehee 🤭 that's so silly i wonder what happens next" like... you're so creative, 'nonnie, honestly feeling so blessed to see this in my inbox! YOU CAN ALWAYS RAMBLE TO ME!! remember this guys, you can always come to me to ramble if u need to. i listen to everything

[fem] reader-insert, [afab] reader-insert, mentions/brief talk of male ashley graves, NSFW, rape, incest, pregnancy, lactation kink

you gotta tell me how [reader] and the siblings met. i keep it vague intentionally but i wanna hear from YOU how they meet. what would get andrew so obsessive over them? especially to the point where he has to fight with ashley to keep her around and ashley FUCKING DOES IT?? ashley is impulsive, not stupid, i know this-- she doesn't just outright kill people she doesn't like. but back at the apartment it's a fucking free for all, she would be so so justified if she did kill [reader], she's just another loose end after all. like the lady in room 302. actually this parallels(?) what happened in room 302 a lot; unknown neighbor lady, andrew watching her and keeping her hostage, ashley believing that he just wants to get his dick wet with her (except this time he actually does want that??). instead of killing her they just take [reader] with them... do they ever explain to her why? how would they do that??? they'd probably pressure her into committing a crime (murder/cannibalism) so they'd have that leverage over her... god they're so fucking crazy ♡

i can see andrew just cradling [reader] in his lap while they watch TV, holding her in his arms while he rests his cheek on top of her head. so calm and peaceful while [reader] is shaking like a leaf because ashley is glaring fucking daggers at her and andrew isn't doing anything about it (it all reminds me of julia, except andrew actually likes/cares for [reader] more than he did julia). omg ashley threatens to fucking cut off [reader]'s limbs and tongue and andrew comforts her, petting her hair as he whispers "it's okay, ashley's just trying to scare you. she's just a little jealous. if you keep being good we won't have to resort to that, will we?"

i love sucking on tiddies (i have never done so) so seeing andrew and ashley latch on to [reader]'s leaking nipples is such a mood. it'd be so funny if they sort of fought or pushed each other out of the way so they can drink more and [reader]'s underneath them gently trying to break it up, "hey, hey... one at a time! there's enough for both of you..." i honestly feel bad for [reader] though, i hope they do nice things for her since they rape her so much. (was not expecting to type that out) like they better be giving her the best dick/strap or head ever!!!

these were so yummy, you guys take such good care of me ♡

----

coff-in

[isackwhy]

ok ok, let me cook, let me on the fryer. so drunk driving stream (your girl got carried away, lacked details my bad bestie boo). isaacwhy, big t goat, and yumi. i’m talking giggles GALORE. i’m talking isaac appearance on readers stream? i’m talking, accidental hard launch? on stream? drunk? again, my apologies for lack of detail in the last four or so worded suggestion, lots of love 😘

anon. ily.

isaacwhy x drunk driving stream! reader hc’s

u last minute agreed to a drunk driving stream w 2 of ur best friends yumi and big t while ur bf isaac was at ur place

usually he’d be the third in this trio but u kidnapped him

you’re more than half a four loko down. isaac is a full four loko down. sitting on discord on his phone in ur living room so that chat doesn’t know he’s at ur place

(even tho they all have a suspicion about yall)

“no, no!” you drunkenly yell as your truck spins around on the highway

tanner and yumi are giggling their asses off, watching your truck flip to the side

you take another gulp of ur drink, gagging at the taste

“y/n, you’re a fucking moron!” yumi laughs

you gasp, and look into your webcam

it’s only then when u realize how drunk u look

“holy shit. oh. i’m so drunk,” you mumble as u repair ur truck

“really? couldn’t tell—“

“tanner i’ll—i’ll—kill u,” u stutter

“y/n, stop drinking,” isaac says

“ummm fuck u,” u giggle, downing another gulp

“y/nnnnn!” isaac yells. also drunk.

“come ‘ere. come into—the room,” you slur, not even realizing you’ve uncovered that isaac is in your house

“huh? are you sure?” isaac asks but you can hear him getting up

“oh god she’s getting isaac. oh god,” yumi groans

“k—y—s,” you spell out slowly, making tanner burst out laughing

isaac walks in and his tall ass is covered so u don’t worry about ur webcam

“hiii isaac,” you smile up at him. a part of u is conscious about ur secret relationship to teh viewers while another part is very drunk and wanting your boyfriend like rn

“hii y/n,” isaac smirks down at u, “i think you’re good on the drinks.”

you groan, gulping down more four loko, “you CANNOTTT tell me what to do.”

“oh no. they’re in trouble—OH SHIT I CRASHED,” tanner yells into the mic.

you glance over at chat, seeing your ship name w isaac being spammed and u hide ur eye roll

“you’re drunk too,” u point at ur boyfriend but realize ur vision has gone blurry

“not like you,” isaac laughs. the webcam can see from his chest down as he crosses his arms in his tank top

ur going bonkers

“i—need to pee. i think,” u get up but u stumble. isaac holds out his hands for you and you try and stabilize urself

“you okay?” isaac laughs, holding you

“i’m great!” you quickly saying, stepping away from him

you take three steps away from him, nearly fall until he catches you and all you can do is giggle

isaac is just looking down at you with a small smile, “okay, stream. over. come on—“

“no!!! wait till i get back baby.”

yeah u don’t even realize what u said bc ur just staring up at isaac with a fond smile while isaac has the widest eyes and ur chat has increased in speed

u can faintly hear yumi and tanner yelling

“what?” you ask with a head tilt, “i gotta—pee,@ u say still clueless, “entertain chat!” u say as u walk away, still oblivious

isaac stands there, stunned that you called him baby on stream. subsequently exposing your relationship

it was gonna happen at some point but he wasn’t expecting it while ur both drunk

“chat—chat. um,” he stands awkwardly until u come back

u stumble back in, still clueless while ur bf looks borderline horrified

“y/n, end stream please,” isaac grabs your shoulders

“hm? wha—okay,” you walk over, “guys i’m too drunk according to isaac so i’m gonna end….”

ur eyes fall on ur chat and the word baby and isaac and y/n are dating being spammed

oh fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

u whip ur head towards isaac when you realize what you did

“okay—yup! bye chat!” and you quickly end stream.

once u know ur in the clear, ur head falls your hands, “fuck. i’m sorry babe.”

“it’s okay. you’re drunk. it was gonna happen because we’re both dumbasses at some point,” isaac assures u.

you put ur headset back on and yumi and tanner are too drunk to help you so you turn the whole pc off and slam into your bed, face first into the pillows

“i’m staying off twitter for like—ever,” you mumble into the pillow

“eh. we have a lot less weirdos. you’ll be alright,” isaac rubs your back

[tiredofthehumanlife]

A happy home (realizations pt 2)

Title looks like a Midwest emo song name dude 🙏give me strength

Barbie dolls: Jegulus x reader (James, Regulus, Your punk ass).

Words: 2.4k ish

Summary: Reggie is all like muh I don’t deserve love I’m just a poor peasant boy then he’s all like muh i should ignore all my friends bc I’m just a poor boy from the bourgeoisie and then you and James are like no 🥺 pookie and then hilarity ensues

Warnings: it's kinda angsty but it ends happy trust, mentions of panic attacks, mentions of Remus' dick, Harry Potter possibly mentioned, James has a mustache for about three sentences, regulus is all emo, its alright guys first one waa better ngl

Pt 1

After you and James used the classic kiss & run technique on Regulus, his mind was swamped with questions. Baby Black was having yet another crisis. Barty and Pandora had started a tally board marking up all his catastrophes. He was somewhere around the double digits at this point. Regulus wanted love, as any poor emo poetry loving teenager, but he felt he didn’t deserve love. He wanted. He wanted so much. Regulus wanted a house with a screeching screen door. He wanted a wrap around porch. He wanted beautiful tiles in his bathroom. He wanted nick nacks. A cluttered home is a house full of love and life. He wanted color in his home. Regulus’ parents’ house (attention to house not home) was cold. Regulus wanted a home. He thought of it frequently, planning the decor and colors. He would go to his little home in his head for comfort. After panic attacks he found himself pressed into a rocking chair, sitting on his wrap around porch and staring out at the beautiful garden in the backyard. His book open in his lap, his favorite pen between his fingers, tracing over his initials. Next to his chair was a small table with a mug full of his favorite tea.

With the more time he spent with you and James, he felt his fantasy home adapt. Suddenly when he visited he found your sweater flung over the back of his couch, James’ pictures on the wall. Which he could accept. Friends left their things at each others’ homes all the time. Friends made it onto each other’s walls frequently. He could handle your friendship infiltrating his home. Regulus appreciated you both no matter how much he threatened to kill you. It was his love language.

Regulus seemed to pull away. Suddenly you never saw him in the library, he didn't appear next to you, he didn't even hang out with Sirius and the others. He was actively avoiding you both. You tried to pretend you were wrong and just making things up. You knew it was true after you saw him in the Gryffindor commonroom again. 

But after you both kissed him, granted on the cheek, he malfunctioned. Regulus’ home changed rapidly. He was rocking in chair again, following the vines of the tomato plants with his eyes. His train of thought interrupted by the squeals of a small child. Regulus wondered what on earth was a child doing in his fantasy home. A small boy, no older than three or four, ran around the corner of Regulus’ porch. His little bare feet stomping on the wood. Regulus felt himself smile like nature. The boy was decked in jean overalls, a red shirt underneath. A small truck printed on the shirt was peaking out from under the edge of the overalls. He looked like James, Regulus realized. The boy heard louder footsteps following after him and squealed louder. The boy jumped into Regulus’ arms muttering something about ‘papa’. Regulus looked up from the boy to see James. Though now he had grown out his mustache, and wore matching overalls with the boy. James scooped the boy out of Regulus’ arms. James pecked Regulus’ cheek before dropping the three year old back to his feet. He ran off, zooming around the garden patches. James quickly went after him. James raced after the boy. They both laughed. The boy squealed when James caught him and tickled him. Regulus tore his eyes away when he felt someone touch his shoulder. He found you sitting next to him, in a matching rocking chair. You moved your hand up to his hair. You looked older, like James, not by much but enough for Regulus to know you all had left Hogwarts. You kissed Regulus on the lips gently. He felt warm. You leaned closer and leaned into his ear. You whispered to him that you loved him. Regulus felt his eyes prick with tears and his throat dry. You stood up and took his mug off the table. You walked away muttering about him drinking so much tea people will think you’re dehydrating him like a raisin.

It was change. Regulus didn’t like change and he didn’t like identifying his feelings. He couldn’t like you and he couldn’t like James. You were in a relationship. He can’t. He couldn’t. But he wanted. Regulus knew he wasn’t ever good at controlling his wants. So he avoided you and James. Regulus knew if he made eye contact he’d fall all over again. If he fell his heart home would be crushed. Regulus had to protect his home.

Regulus was sitting with Sirius. They were both talking and laughing comfortably. It was one of the few times you've seen Regulus without his journal in front of him. He caught sight of you standing at the steps of the Gryffindor commonroom. Regulus' smile fell and he quickly stood up. Regulus muttered something to Sirius before swinging his bag over his shoulder. As he breezed past you, you whispered a goodbye. He didn't return it, he didn't make eye contact, he ignored you entirely. Sirius had asked you what that was about but you just left the commonroom as silently as Regulus.

You brought it up with James. He was just as upset as you. The one thing you both feared was making Regulus uncomfortable and that's exactly what you had done. You and James had to have burned your trails into the floors with all your pacing but you decided on what to do. You'd confront him. Even though it seemed all Black relatives hated confrontation it was all you could do. You confront and apologize and beg him to come back to the group. You both missed his insults so much you felt sick. You looked for him everywhere. Days went by before you were finally able to find him. He was hunched over in the library. Regulus was sitting as far away from his regular table as possible. He was scribbling away in his journal, as usual. He glanced up when he noticed people approaching. Regulus quickly shut the journal and went to grab his bag.

"Please." James whispered. James sat in front of Regulus. You sat next to James. Regulus stared at the ceiling before gently letting his bag drop to the floor again. He sat back in his chair and rested his hands on top of his journal. You steeled yourself, clutching James’ hand under the table for support.

“We’re sorry. For everything. We didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. We were just being-“ You paused. You wanted to make everything make sense to Regulus. You needed to explain yourself, you couldn’t live with yourself if you left this thread hanging. “Brainless. We were just trying to harmlessly flirt and we would’ve stopped the second we felt you uncomfortable. We misread you, obviously. We miss you. You’re avoiding us and the rest of our friends. We need you to come back. We’ll leave you alone, we won’t even look at you if that works for you, so long as you come back. So.” You stopped and cleanched your jaw. You felt like you might cry if you kept talking. Though you already seemed to do a lot of that. James dropped your hand to rub your shoulder.

“So, we’re so sorry.” James finished for you. Regulus stayed silent. He looked between you and James. You saw it in his eyes, hatred, disgust, repugnance. You felt sick to your stomach, knowing you’d only see his distaste in his eyes. Never seeing all of Regulus in his eyes again, made your throat close and tears collect in your eyes. You pressed your hand against your mouth, looking away from him. You would not cry in front of him. You would not make Regulus feel like this was his fault. James squeezed your shoulder, moving his soothing hand to your back.

“I’m not good.” Regulus whispered. You quickly looked at him. How could he think that? He was staring down at his journal. Regulus squeezed his own hands, you knew his rings must’ve hurt. Regulus sucked in a sharp breath. “At speaking how I feel. I usually avoid it. I’d rather sit in silence than speak up.” He looked up. His eyes had tears like yours. You hadn’t made eye contact with James since before speaking but you assumed he was probably teary eyed as well. Regulus slid his closed journal to the middle of the table. He stood and pulled his bag over his shoulder. Regulus tapped on the table with his pen twice.

“Just return it.” Regulus whispered before leaving the library. You watched him walk away. You looked to James. Your tears had left leaving behind pure confusion.

“Did we just get told to go fuck our selves in poetry nerd?” You asked James. He looked just as confused as you. He glanced at the journal.

“He did say he’s bad at saying his feelings, maybe he wants us to read his feelings.” You stared down the journal. It was bound in black leather. A small string wrapped around it thrice. It was unsuspecting. You didn’t want to read it though. That felt wrong, going into Regulus’ private brain like that. He was constantly writing. His deepest darkest thoughts, you assumed. You once sneaked a peak at Sirius’ diary and you truly never needed to know in that extreme of detail what Remus’ dick looked like. You looked to James. He stared at you. You pressed your lips together, contemplating. You gently picked up the journal, scared it would shatter under your fingertips. You unwound the string. You pulled the front cover up. You found the first page had Regulus’ initials. You smiled and held it toward James for him to see. He laughed and turned the page. You saw the pages were full of Regulus’ flowing handwriting. Overflowing really. The lines of his poems were pressed up against each other. His letters interning with each other like a lovers hold. If you weren’t already absolutely totally in love with him, you would’ve fallen more looking at his pretty messy letters.

The last poem made you melt entirely. Regulus started speaking of a cold home. All the walls stained with blood and screams. He moved. A nice home with a porch, a reading nook, painted walls, a coat rack, a garden in the back, and you. He moved into a home with his two lovers, their presence sweeping over every inch of the house. There was ding in the doorframe to your shared bedroom, James had pulled a dresser up the stairs and tried to squeeze it through the door. You had painted in small forgotten corners of the house. A sunflower on the side of one of the kitchen drawers, a moon added to the coat rack, a heart on the corner of Regulus’ bedside table. The back door was newer than the rest of the house, James had flung a snowball so hard one winter he shattered the glass. Regulus had started talking of the rocking chairs on the back porch. His sentence fell off, unfinished. You set his journal down, leaning back in your chair. James followed your lead. You both sat in silence for a few minutes. Baby Black liked you both back. Say that 5 times fast. You sighed. You stretched your arms over your head.

“McGonagall did say we needed 20 minutes of reading everyday.” You whispered to James. He nodded and pulled the journal closer between you two. You both held onto it with one hand leaning closer to each other to read Regulus’ writing. You read and read and read and read. Regulus wrote so much he had to get new journals fairly regularly. This journal started a few days before meeting Sirius’ friends. The fast few pages were Regulus stressed with his workload. After that there was the first mention of you. Regulus spent a whole page explaining how gorgeous he found you. He spent another page after talking all about how handsome and beautiful James was. All of which you agreed with.

After that all his pages were dedicated to you two. Slowly as you worked through the pages together, and the candles around you melted, Regulus fell in love. His words were frillier. He spoke of a garden, and tea. Regulus told all about laying in field of flowers. He painted images of you three deep in love and extremely domestic. Regulus wrote of pain. The pain of knowing it could never be reciprocated, you were already with James and James was with you. The pain feeling every touch warm his heart before burning his skin with his own insecurities. He wrote how the kiss situation felt for him. All roses and sunshine until his own sick mind turned it against him, making him think it was all some big joke on him.

“We are really bad at reading people.” James muttered. You gasped and sat forward. Glad somebody said it.

“Right?!? Oh god we just can’t catch a break.” You clicked your tongue. James gently closed Regulus’ journal, wrapping the string around three times. You huffed and stood up. You and James left the Library, it was closing soon anyway. You both decided you had enough time before curfew to go to Regulus.

You returned his journal. Regulus stood in front of you staring and waiting. You and James let it all out. Laughing at your stupidity, apologizing for making him feel like he was some joke even if it was only for a few minutes, and confessing that a wrap around porch and back garden sounded perfect. Regulus was happy. He smiled at you both before telling you curfew was sneaking up behind you. James decided you three would get together and make plans on how to move forward with your relationship on Saturday in the courtyard. Regulus agreed. As you and James were heading off towards your own common rooms, Regulus called your names. He ran over to you from his commonroom door. He quickly kissed your cheek before James’. Regulus skittered off back to his commonroom without a second to spare. You smiled brightly at James. He returned the look. He intertwined your hands, swinging them back and forth. James started skipping down the hall, still holding onto your hand. You joined him. You were both carefree

You didn’t have anything to realize. You already knew you loved them both.

[luckydicekirby]

would love any director's commentary you may have on The Only True Thing if slightly older fics are on the table here bc lowkey it changed my brain chemistry forever. I read it on a whim like four years ago at 1 in the morning and ever since then I've been hooked on making all my fav pairings miserable for no reason. this sounds like sarcasm but I'm being completely sincere the schadenfreude is exquisite

okay first of all I’m SO glad to hear this because making your favs miserable is I think one of the most rewarding activities on this earth so I’m really glad I could help share that joy. thanks also to sylvain for just making it so easy. anyway, here’s some assorted thoughts, hopefully some of which are edifying!

(the only true thing for reference for anyone playing along at home.)

this fic affectionately named the darkling au due to this tweet which I feel like I should put in a hall of fame someday. anyway this entire thread showcases the origin of this fic which was me catie and lily bullying each other on twitter about sylvix, a pastime left behind in 2019 which i really miss.

the thing that really first made me Crazy Cuckoo about sylvain is his B support with Byleth--I'm obsessed with that moment where he very coldly threatens to kill you and then laughs it off, and that was pretty much the jumping off point for Sylvain's characterization in this au--what if he was like that all the time? answer: it would be bad, but also pretty sexy!

One thing I miss about writing for fe3h is the hero’s relics were sooo nice as like. shortcut symbolism. the lance of ruin comes preloaded for you! It’s familial cycles of violence! Easy! and there's a mechanic for it breaking ALSO preloaded into the game mechanics! I wrote like three versions of the ending and the lance getting busted moved around a bit--it originally happened a little earlier.

For a while when I was still femblempilled I was idly thinking about two sequels to this—a sylvain pov sequel about the war, which would have been fun but also Yikes, and then epistolary dorothea/ingrid ideological divorce fic. sorry to dorothea and ingrid who really get the short end of the stick in this universe.

oh there's a playlist. I can’t claim to have put a ton of thought into it it’s just all my fav bad ya boyfriend songs <3 actually dead girl walking reprise is like. yeah that's the fic.

ANYWAY. I feel like a lot of my commentary on this has been washed away by the sea (the passage of time) so a few extras. I apparently wrote like 400 words of sylvain POV of the training yard scene also? Last edited September 26th 2019, here you go:

Felix has always been smaller him, ever since they were kids. Still is these days, to Sylvain’s delight. He wondered about it plenty, these past two years--maybe Felix had a growth spurt. Maybe he caught up to Dimitri. Maybe Sylvain would meet him at the monastery and they’d see eye to eye. Of course they don’t. Felix is a head shorter than him, and he’ll never see things the way Sylvain does. Still. Sylvain thought about it. He’s had a lot of time to think about Felix since the last time he saw him, since Felix ran away. Still a crybaby at heart, no matter how sure he was he’d grown out of it. Not much has changed, Sylvain figures. Felix might have everyone else fooled with that delightfully sharp-edged exterior of his--a pretty decent feint, Sylvian should know--but Felix can’t hide from him. Sylvain sees him down to the bone. The two of them are a matched set: liars at heart.  Like right now. Felix is trying so hard not to cry, his back to the wall of the training yard, his grip tight around the wood of his training sword like he’s actually going to use it. Sylvain hopes he will. He hasn’t gotten to see Felix fight yet, really fight. He bets he’s gotten better. He bets he’s elegant and controlled—maybe less so with Sylvain, and wouldn’t that be nice? That’s how it goes sometimes, when Sylvain dreams about their last day together. Felix’s sword at his throat, biting and cold, ending all this before it began. It would have saved everyone a lot of trouble. Sylvain wouldn’t have had to spend such an awfully long time missing him.  He bets Felix could make him hurt. Nothing seems to do that anymore, except for thoughts of Felix, the ones he can never stop worrying at like a bruise.  Sylvain doesn’t want much these days, and maybe that’s why it’s so hard: he wants Felix in a way that aches, delirious and unstoppable. It doesn’t matter so much how. Felix is welcome to cut him open or kiss him quiet or anything in between. As long as he never stops looking at Sylvain like he is now, hateful and just on the edge of tears, so clearly focused on nothing else. As long as Sylvain can have that, the rest doesn’t matter.  That’s love, Sylvain figures; the cheerful facade he gives the girls is nothing. He forgets about a new one every week. But Felix? He’ll be dead someday, and Felix will still have a grip on his heart, as tight as he’s holding his sword and just as dangerous.

and what exists of the sylvain POV sequel I never wrote:

Felix looks like shit. Of course he’s also beautiful. He’s radiant, for all that his hair’s a mess and his face is drawn and he’s got the kind of dark circles that only come from weeks and weeks of exhaustion. He’s Felix, right? He can’t be anything else. “You look like shit,” Sylvain tells him, because honesty is what Felix thinks he wants from him. He hasn’t seen Felix in six moons, but that probably hasn’t changed. “What are you doing here?” Felix asks. His horse stamps her feet and shakes her head, moving uneasily under him. Felix has never been a good rider. It’s clear he doesn’t appreciate his mare, and she doesn’t appreciate him. Sylvain wonders how long Felix has been making his way across Faerghus like this. He wonders if he stole the horse. It’s awful not to know. “Looking for you,” Sylvain says. “They say you’re searching for the king.” Felix never could stop himself from chasing ghosts. Sylvain hates that about him. It’s just as unfair as everything else: it’s the only reason Sylvain is still here, after all.  “I am. And you should be defending Gautier territory.” “Got a message from your father,” Sylvain lies. He slides off his horse, patting her flank. Felix, clumsily, does the same. “He wants you to come home.” That part’s probably true.  Felix scoffs. “My old man can send all the messages he wants. I’m going to find the boar.” He means it. Sylvain can see that he means it, in the flinty look in his eyes, the fold of his arms, the jut of his chin as he looks up at Sylvain. It’s the saddest thing Sylvain’s ever seen, and he’s seen a lot of shit. “Felix,” he says. He reaches out. He can never help it, not when Felix is like this, not when he believes. Felix doesn’t flinch from Sylvain’s hand on his cheek anymore. “Sweetheart. You know he’s dead.” “Don’t call me that,” Felix says. But when he swings himself back in the saddle and Sylvain does the same, he doesn’t tell Sylvain not to follow. That’s more than good enough. 

[msookyspooky]

Fours a Franchise

Part 12

Wordcount: 8,567

Omfg I got the flu for a week, had a family fued that lasted months between my aunt and...EVERYONE. But thankfully my younger cousin I'm super close to is living with her Dad/My Uncle now after months of this bs so finally there's peace, then in-between this fued and my cousin moving out I got covid and ong I have been foggy headed for 2 weeks afterwards I'm just starting to feel like my normal self again....THEN Wattpad kicked me out of my account. From September till now has been an out of body experience in a bad way 🙃

So thank you all for your support and patience I appreciate it 🖤 but I am so done wracking my brain over this chapter so we're just winging it rn bc I want to write and get past this hump to finish this story then start on 5. So if I missed info or a typo or misplaced lore from previous books *No I did not*~

Annnnddd my motivation with recent Scream news.

The news of Scream 7 is so disheartening and screwed up with Sam and Tara's actresses. So I cannot promise I'm writing till 6 or 7 not only because I'm losing my hyper fixation for Scream after these 2 years but no Tara, Sam, Sidney and most likely no Stu because Matthew is a real one and wouldn't come back after how they treated Neve and Melissa so like? What's the point? This book and 5 I am for sure doing because Billy meeting Sam is a huge writing motive for me. 6 is iffy but 7? I am not. Not only do I not have the motivation to write that much more for this story but it's pointless with so much of Scream being written like bad fanfiction the last 2 installments...Hell, I could do that! But I won't because I probably won't even watch Scream 7 if they make it. The Studio has screwed over Neve and Melissa in ways that I really don't want to support.

Anyways, thank you for the patience. I appreciate all of you! ♡♡♡♡

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   Ghostface grabbed your ankle and you hit the stairs. Hard. But the second they went to stab you, you kicked them as hard as you could in the knee sending them flying back and tumbling down the stairs. 

Jill grabbed your arm. "Come on, YN!" As you both bolted for Kirby's room…Kirby had gotten separated during the chase and you didn't know where she was. 

Jill locked the door and told you. "The balcony!"

"There's no other way out?" 

"You can jump, maybe, I don't know." Jill rushed out past her lips as she got away from the door. 

You breathed hard, looking down at the drop off from the second story. You couldn't think long as the door frame started bending; the wood splintering with each bang from the killer trying to break it down. 

"That's two stories." You looked at her trying to form a plan. "...Get under the bed." 

Jill looked confused, "Wha-" 

"Just do as I say." You harshly whispered. "Get under the bed and don't make a sound or come out until I get you, okay? Trust me!…Go!" 

You watched her go to crawl under Kirby's bed as you climbed over the railing.

Jill hid under the bed as you heard the door to Kirby's room finally break and the killer come inside. Slowly walking past Kirby's bed...

You made a gasp as you almost fell.

Ghostface darted out onto the balcony to see you descend onto the porch roof. You rushed down around the corner of the home and looked back to see Ghostface on the roof too. Staring at you through that mask before disappearing. You figured back inside to look for the others because you looked back around the corner to see they were gone.

You quickly used the opportunity to get your cellphone.

You faltered just a second...You didn't trust to call police because you did not trust Judy. You didn't care if she was out in the open when Jill's mother was killed. Partners. Besides, you did not have a good track record of using your one phone call for cops and either they don't show up, show up too late, or show up and make things worse with the killer. But you still had to call someone. Randy dead, Gale injured, maybe Dewey? Maybe just risk 911-

You heard a noise and out of reflex you accidently pushed a button on speed dial that you hissed a curse at. Too late, they picked up the phone as you frantically tried windiws.

As soon as it picked up you rushed out, "The killer's here at Kirby's! I need your help. 329 whispering lane-" 

You yelled as you rounded the corner to try a window you saw was cracked open just for the killer to jump out at you. You gasped and stepped back as they tried to slash you with the knife as you dropped the phone on the roof and lost your footing. Tumbling off the roof before barely catching yourself on the gutter. Your fingers and hands burned painfully from the impact as well as trying to hang onto the thin uncomfortable metal with your body weight. The hand you injured from the knife stab a decade ago hurt the worst. Tingling and burning as you desperately tried to hang on. 

You gasped looking up to see a knife and mask. The knife narrowly missed your hand as you let go and let yourself fall harshly onto the ground. Tumbling painfully before laying there a second from the impact. Robbie no longer screamed…Only the smell of flesh and hair and plastic burning as his body provided some fucked up bonfire in the front yard that blazed overtop a pile of dead leaves...And of course this house was about like Stu's with hardly any neighbors. Should've seen that a mile away.

"Shit…" You grabbed the knife from your boot and bolted, forcing your legs to move even if they didn't want to. Running back into the house before yelping at someone grabbing you. You went to stab them before she said, "No, no, no, no! Sorry, It's me." 

You lowered the knife as you saw Kirby. She drew you to a corner of the kitchen to quietly talk. "Look, I tried to call 911 but the landlines dead and someone smashed the router...And my cellphone is missing. I-I don't know, I think I lost it while running I don't understand. "  

Your mind raced with that.

But…Did she actually call 911? Or was she lying? Where had she been? Why didn't she go with you and Jill? Did she actually try to call or did she mess with the landline and wifi in her own house?...

You didn't have time to talk as you both heard heavy footsteps upstairs and Kirby opened the basement door and rushed you in, "Oh god. Go, go, go, go, go!" She urged before following after you and locking the door as you both quickly got down the steps as she informed you. "There's a room down here we can lock ourselves in. I heard you yelling at Jill; is she okay? Did she get away?" 

You both made it to the room as you told her, "She's safe but where's the others? Trevor, Charlie?" 

Kirby breathed out shakily. "I don't know." 

You hissed through your teeth. "Did Trevor or anyone have a shoulder or arm wound? I shot Ghostface in the shoulder tonight before they escaped the barn." 

Kirby mumbled, "I don't think so." All before locking you both in the dark room…Suddenly, you both gasped and jumped at a banging noise. Nearly jumping out of your skin as you instinctively wielded your small knife. You held your knife tightly as you both saw a bloody Charlie banging desperately on the glass door leading to the backyard.

"Kirby! Please, let me in!" 

"Charlie?" Kirby breathed out, going to the door…Her eyes darted to his bloody hand and arm. 

He looked where her eyes traveled and he shook his head. "N-No! I got attacked! Please, let me in!..." He kept banging his bloody hand on the glass while fearfully looking around. "Please! There is someone else out here, let me in! They burnt Robbie!...Jesus Christ, Kirby, they set him ablaze in the yard!" 

You saw Kirby ponder and you told her firmly. Already having your hunch. "If you can't trust him; don't open the door…"

Kirby looked taken aback by that realization. 

Charlie looked outraged on the other side of the glass. "My God! Let me in!" He begged Kirby with fear raising his voice a few octaves. "I don't know who's doing this but it's not me! Please!" 

Kirby swallowed but with a tense look told him. "...Get away from the door, Charlie." 

"Kirby! It's me!" Charlie whimpered with desperate pleas. 

Kirby had tears in her eyes, voice strained as she ordered him. "Get away from the door, Charlie!" 

Charlie's bloody hand slid down the glass as he cried out, "It's me! P-Please, Kirby! It's meee-" He whined the last part in a desperate sob. 

Kirby shook her head, tears welling in her eyes as her voice cracked. And in the tiniest, crackling voice she told him. "...I'm sorry, I can't…" 

You saw the struggle on Kirby's face. Trust no one…This could be a set up to make you trust her completely. You just stood back away from the door or windows with your knife ready. Back against the wall. Nothing behind the wall. Trust no one.

Charlie stepped away from the door into the porch light's view. "What the fuck?!" He yelled in outrage and disbelief. 

Suddenly, Ghostface appeared behind him as Kirby screamed, "LOOK OUT BEHIND YOU!!" 

Killer grabbing Charlie and banging his head into the glass right over the bloody handprint he left. Smearing blood on the glass before dragging him away into the dark…

You and Kirby looked taken aback, both staring helplessly…Then suddenly, whoever was doing this shut off the outside light. It was pitch black both outside and in the room now as your eyes adjusted to the darkness surrounding you. Back against the wall as you swallowed hard and tried to get your mind in survival mode. 

And then…The lights turned on outside to see Charlie tied to a chair…So similar to the report of Steven Oarth's body found or that friend of the girl that worked for Randy. 

"Leave him alone!!" Kirby yelled, banging on the glass with teary eyes. "Damnit, leave him alone!" 

You stood back and watched in disbelief. Questioning everything. How did Charlie get tied up so easily? Was Kirby faking it? Where the hell is Jill? Where's Trevor? And now, you have no phone to call 911…It was on the roof…Then again, you called multiple times in 1996 that awful night and they didn't show up till a fire broke out...Apparently one body on fire in a leaf pile isn't enough. You felt cornered on your own here. The only thing driving you was to kill this Ghostface and find who they were. Honestly, at this point, in that order. Anyone dumb enough in this situation to run at you with that mask on deserved beat or stabbed and feel guilty about it later.

You saw Charlie bound and gagged in that chair. And you just stood in the darkness of the room helplessly watching. 

Kirby's phone rang. Charlie's contact as she answered. In the silence of the room, you could hear the Ghostface's voice on the line talk to Kirby. 

"Tell YN heads are gonna roll tonight! Tell YN this is all because of her! Or maybe she wants to take his place? I promise to be quick." 

You gritted your teeth hearing the sadistic excitement in their voice. Oh how much you wanted to yank that phone out of Kirby's hand and tell them to stop being a coward and come get you then…But you knew better. Instead, you whispered to Kirby, "Keep them talking." You knew it was most likely one of them or both of them…But it could be an outside influence, someone not necessarily in the group just like Neil was. 

Kirby tearily nodded as she sucked in a breath to keep Ghostface on the line as you snuck out of the dark room. 

—-------------------------------------

Kirby stood there as you left, shaking like a leaf. "Please, let him go." 

"I hear you like horror movies, Kirby. But do you like them as much as him?...Forget watching Stab. You get to live it!" 

Kirby's eyes widened, "No! Nononono, he's the expert, not me!" As she locked eyes with Charlie who struggled against his ties. 

"Warm up question: Jason's weapon?" 

Kirby fumbled at first in her fear stricken state. "Uuhhh, it's a machete." She released a small sniffle and touched her head.

"There, ya see? You do know the genre." The voice is entirely too sweet. Mocking her before snapping. "Michael Myers?!" 

"Uh, butcher knife." 

"Leatherface?!" 

"A Chainsaw! Please!" Kirby answered faster, desperate to save her friend as a small sob escaped her. 

"Just ask YN if you need some help. Freddy Krueger?!" 

"Uh, uh. Razor hands!" 

"Name the movie that started the Slasher craze. Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Last House on the Left, or Psycho?" 

"Psycho!" Kirby growled out through her teeth before the voice aggressively cut her off as Kirby kept pacing the doors window looking at Charlie. 

"NONE of the above! Peeping Tom 1960 directed by Michael Powe; first movie to ever put the audience in the killer's POV!" 

"Wha-" Kirby's breath caught in her throat as she clutched her head. "What? Please! Nononono, please just ask me one more question, just one more!" 

"...Alright Kirby. Then it's time for your last chance question …" The voice so sinister on the other line as Kirby softly cried to herself. "Name the remake of the groundbreaking horror movie in which the villain-" 

"Uh Halloween-" Kirby shook her head while frantically going over every horror remake she knew. "Texas Chainsaw, Dawn of the Dead, Hills have.. Eyes-" She scrunched her face forcing this out while trying to scrap her brain for every last straw she could grasp. "Uh Amityville horror, Last House on the Left, F-Friday the 13th, Nightmare on Elm Street, My Bloody Valentine, When a Stranger Calls, Prom Night, Black Christmas, House of Wax, The Fog, Uh…Uh Piranha!...It's one of those, right? Right?!" She demanded while staring out the window at Charlie. 

…The line went dead silent. Everything stopped as the line was quiet, no attacks, no taunts. 

"I was right?" Kirby gritted her teeth to go outside. "I was fucking right." 

She opened the door, looked around, before rushing to her bound friend. "Hold on Charlie." She removed his tape from his mouth as he gasped and groaned at the feeling. Kirby quickly worked on untying him as she spoke. "He tried to trick me but I fucking won!" She smiled a bit as she got his hands free. Looking cautiously around herself in the dark as she tried to get the tape undone on his wrists and ankles. She helped him up and told him, "It's gonna be okay! It's-" 

"Kirby." He said her name like it was a chore. "This is making a move." 

Kirby gasped as she felt searing pain…A knife Charlie had hidden plunging deep into her abdomen. She choked on tears and air…And her eyes darted to the blood on his white shirt that he claimed was from an attack by the killer…It shifted as he stabbed and she saw a bloody gauze thickly wrapped up where the blood had soaked through from earlier…From us shooting him in the barn…She remembered him acting odd, noticing him wincing a bit when he sat down earlier but she thought it was nerves from stress…My God…It really was Charlie. 

He killed his best friend Robbie. He stole Robbie's Dad's Crossbow. He stabbed Gale. He killed Randy Meeks…It was him.

Kirby's teary eyes looked at him desperately for an answer to the madness as she choked on her sobs of pain. He jerked it back out. 

"Four years of classes and now you notice me?! All those times at the video store that you could talk Randy's ear off about horror movies like he's a fucking Messiah of horror while ignoring me?! All those years of teasing and leading me on in the friendzone and now you care?!" He demanded with angry tears in his own eyes as Kirby gripped his shoulder in pain gasping for air with wide eyes. Charlie yelled before plunging it back in her again. "Stupid bitch! It's too late!!" 

Charlie gripped onto Kirby as her body went lax. Tears and choked whimpers escaping her as the pain felt like shocks coursing through her. 

Charlie shhed her as he held her in a soft voice, "Shh, shhh. I know, I know. It's okay, take your time…Doesn't happen as fast in real life as it does in the movies, I know." 

He smirked a bit as Kirby could do nothing but feel pain as the shock of all this slapped her in the face… 

"C-C-Charlie…" 

He brutally killed Olivia to look like Tatum's death. He hosted the party. He massacred Randy. Stabbed Gale. Set his so-called best friend on fire…Now? He was stabbing her to death and killing their entire friend group plus YN. 

"Just like Sidney Prescott …Shh…I bet she suffered in that house, huh? Stab had her die instantly but I bet she gasped in pain too when Billy plunged his knife in her." He softly told Kirby. 

He then whispered something in Kirby's ear that made her eyes widen…

Kirby choked out pained gasps before Charlie shook his head and shoved Kirby off his knife to let her lay on the ground. Taking gasping breaths like a fish out of water as a pool of blood.

Charlie looked close to crying and ran a hand through his long hair while he stalked back to the house. The night wasn't over. 

—--------------------------------------

You tried to look for Jill, Trevor, your phone but couldn't find any. You put your small knife back getting  a much bigger one off the counter…Kitchen knife in hand and backup knife in your boot.

You came downstairs, that front door still open as you rounded the corner.   Opening the door to the bottom level Kirby was at last…But stopped yourself from calling out to her. It was too quiet…You wanted this Ghostface dead or caught. Wanted to help these kids. But everything in you screamed get in the car and get away. 

You took a steadying breath and backed up the stairs a few steps. Knife in hand, eyes darting before someone grabbed you in a chokehold so tight you gagged as your knife clattered down the steps and you were jerked backwards.

Charlie's arm had you in a tight grip with his knife at your face. Blood staining his white shirt…And he seemed in pain with the arm he was holding you with. Blood on the shoulder you shot. 

…You knew it. 

He was pressed against a wall as he mumbled in your ear, “You know you learn a lot when you watch movies over and over. All the plots are about to ridicule you…Think you're gonna get away? Think anyone gets away?” His lips near your ear as you gritted your teeth and slammed him back against a wall. 

As soon as he hit the wall he let you go and you grabbed your knife from your boot as you went to run out the door. You were getting out. You were outnumbered now. Just until help got here. 

…But you got intercepted…When someone plunged a knife deep into your stomach.

You had been shot and stabbed but never in your gut like that. It knocked the wind from you, your body freezing up in pain as you fell back against the staircase wall. A choking gasp escaped your lips as you clutched your stomach. You went to slash at them, jolted by the pain you felt the second you moved your arm as it radiated down to your abdomen. Ghostface easily smacked that small knife out of your hand.

It clattered to the ground feet away and you felt all air leave your lungs.

The Ghostface came towards you, lowering their knife before taking off that damn mask you learned to resent…

Long dark hair cascaded out first followed by a fair complexion and a smirk on full pink lips…And your mouth dropped.

…Jill.

You shook your head. Shocked because she wasn't even on Randy's radar. And then your face soured as you realized this was just a decade ago all over again. Another one of Sidney's family is either jealous or wanting revenge.

“Hello, Yn…” She tilted her head with a smirk. “Surprised?” 

She got inside her mask to show a small camera. “See this? This is the part where the cameras…” It beeped as she held it up smugly. “Turn off.” 

“Good.” Was the only thing you heard before a man's hand jerked her by the head and slammed her forehead against the staircase railing as she screamed in pain and anger. Billy had a firm grip on her hair.

“Jill!” Charlie went to defend her before Stu grabbed him by the throat and jerked him back.

 “Where you goin’?” Stu taunted. Knife jerking back ready to stab Charlie repeatedly at a moment's notice. “After party's just starting man. Pretty lame if you ask me. Mine was a rager.” Stu jeered with an insane grin.

You couldn't help the relieved smile as you clutched your bleeding abdomen…They actually came back for you. They heard your call and came back.

The sound of a knife jerking out of a pocket sounded as Billy readied his hunting knife. Jill cursed and struggled. “Time to join the other idiots.” He murmured.

Stu grinned, “Hell yeah, man! Number one, baby! We'll always be the one-” 

Right when Billy went to plunge his knife into Jill's side she jerked with a scream as he barely got her…Before a gunshot ran out and you saw Stu jerk back with a shocked expression on his face.

Charlie pulled out a gun leveled it behind him shooting again as Stu got shot right in his rib area jerking back from it before Charlie went to shoot again and Stu tripped backwards over a spare chair landing through the glass sliding door with enough force to fall through it.

“Motherfucker!” Billy hissed out ready to slit Jill's throat and Charlie quickly pointed the gun at us; grabbed us by the back of the neck.

Damn…This has happened too many times before.

“Let her go…Or YN dies.” Charlie mumbled, nervously licking at his lips as he fidgeted with you in his grip. You went to struggle, trying to elbow him and Charlie shoved it to your temple as you groaned in pain.

Billy really considered…He glared, Jill still in his grasp. Until Jill stabbed him in the leg. He yelled, accidentally letting her go as he clutched his thigh.

Charlie jerked you into the kitchen as Jill hissed, seeing a bit of blood where Billy barely stabbed her side before she kicked him to follow Charlie and You. “Move, asshole!” 

Billy growled in his throat as he readied his knife to stab the ever loving hell outta her before Charlie pointed his gun at him while still having a painful grip on you. “You heard her.”

Billy looked ready to take the risk, not one to back down but hearing Stu groaning in pain among the shattered pieces of glass on the porch and you yelping when Charlie shoved you with too much force into the counter. Right where your stab wound was…He relented. 

Walking as Jill told him. “Give me the knife.” 

“Bite me, bitch.” Billy scoffed. 

Charlie threatened with the gun again. “Come on, what's a knife gonna do with a gun anyways? Try to think.” 

Billy scowled before dropping the knife.

Jill smirked. “Not totally stupid. Now walk.” She ordered shoving him as Billy dragged himself forward with her knife leveled at him and her pocketing his for now. 

Jill called out Charlie's name as he forced Billy to stand beside you near the kitchen counter. “Already taken care of.” Charlie told her while shutting doors and she stood near you both with the knife. 

“Get that other douchebag for the line up.” She ordered.

Charlie went to Stu dragging him through glass by his ankles as Stu groaned in pain, teeth clenched. His shirt too dark and bloody to tell where he was shot before Charlie heaved him with a groan and shoved him up to stand. Then shoving him near the counter as Stu tried to swing on him and missed. Just hissing in pain as he caught himself next to Billy, and to your surprise, Billy instinctively reached out to steady him.

Charlie blew air past his lips with a smirk and showed a camera from his pocket. “Damn, he's a big boy, huh Jill?…And guess what? I got great footage of my Robbie kill. Better than Marnie or Olivia even.” 

“Good. We'll cut and upload it later to make it all traceable to Trevor.” Jill replied with the knife near your face.

You panted in pain while Billy stood near you leaning on the counter. His dark eyes scanning the room for any way to get leverage. Stu gripped the counter, sweating but looking murderously at both teens holding you all hostage right now.

If Charlie didn't have that gun? This would've been over with both of them dead. If YOU had your goddamn gun this could've been over before Billy and Stu even got here!

You stared at Jill, seething once the shock wore off realizing the last few days you and Randy were so nice to her; you were talking to the killer all along. Her and Charlie didn't seem to recognize Billy and Stu or if they did they weren't saying.

“Speaking of which-” Charlie opened the doors to the closet and dragged out Trevor who he threw on the ground bound and gagged with tape.

“Remind you of anything?” Charlie retorted towards you.

Yeah, did it ever. Only this time Billy and Stu were just as much victims as you were.

Charlie ripped the tape off as Trevor begged, “Jill pleas-” 

“Shut up!” She cut him off with a yell as she stripped herself of the Ghostface robe.

Charlie got closer towards you, blood on him. “See everything I learned I learned from you.” 

Stu shoved him away. “Get the fuck away from her, man.” He growled out in pain but this was a man that took so many stabbings when younger and still attacked you and flipped you both over a couch. 

Charlie scoffed but he knew who had the power right now as he smirked. But…He looked at Stu longer. Almost trying to connect the dots. 

Jill brought Charlie back as she mumbled, “Who are these guys anyways? Don't tell me they're your side pieces or something.” Jill jeered with a malicious smirk as you all said nothing. “You think my cousin Sidney had a shitty boyfriend, YN!? Here's one that fucks you, dumps you…And doesn't even make you famous.” She gave a wry smirk before kicking Trevor in his shoulder as he cried out.

Billy's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared at hearing Jill was his old girlfriend's cousin. You could tell he wanted to kill her that much more. 

Trevor cried out, “The fuck, Jill!? I loved you!” 

Jill rolled her eyes, “Shut the fuck UP already!” Before kicking him multiple times as he yelled out in pain each blow.

Stu mumbled to Billy and you, “Mean ass girl, isn't she?” Sarcastically while he huffed and held his side in pain.

Billy asked, "How you holding up?"

"By my last bit of skin, man...Fuck. He got me in the side and lower belly." Stu huffed out in a wince.

"Fuck." Billy scoffed. "...You know what to do still?

Stu smirked, "Yeah..."

Charlie gave the gun to Jill, “I'm sure the cops would want you to have this, Jill. For your protection.” 

The second that gun wasn't aimed, Billy and Stu tried to charge Charlie for it. Their street smarts and instincts ready to attack in pain or not but before they could Jill stabbed you in the gut again and the most strangled cry escaped you. It hurt your throat to scream with such a primal pain and it instantly made Billy and Stu falter just enough for Charlie to aim the gun at them.

You cried, tears in your eyes at that god awful pain as you clutched your lower gut. 

Jill glared, “Do that shit again and I'll stab her in the throat.” She tilted her head. “Who are you anyways? Shouldn't you both be dead?” 

Billy and Stu had no choice but to back off. And when Jill said that…Charlie's entire demeanor changed. 

“Oh my God…No way…I-I thought you looked familiar but-” Charlie drew out like some star struck fan.

Jill's eyes widened too before she laughed loudly. “Shut the fuck up!...No way, Gale was right? Gale Weather's was actually right about you, YN!?” 

You sniffed back tears, gritting your teeth in contempt but not answering her. 

Charlie pointed the gun to each of them. “Bill Loomis…And Stu Macher. It's such a privilege to meet you two in the flesh!” 

Billy sneered at him, “Great, another dick rider.” He grumbled under his breath. 

Jill chuckled, “I can't believe it.” As even Trevor looked flabbergasted from the floor. “Wow, YN…Little Miss American Sweetheart is actually a treacherous lying snake. I mean, hiding two of the famous Woodsboro killers under everyone's nose and ruining Gale Weather's career over it?...Under different circumstances I'd applaud you.” 

Charlie looked momentarily freaked out. “Jill…Jill, what are we gonna do I mean…This changes our plans! I-” 

Jill took his gun. “Shhhh.” She softly told him in a way to calm him down. “It'll still work, Baby. Remember? I'm YN and you're Randy…Now, Trevor doesn't have to be Billy. We can work with this. I mean, who is going to question who the killers were with Billy and Stu here?” 

Charlie's breath hitched as he forced a smile. “And this time, Randy gets the girl.” 

She kissed him. Looking at you with the gun pointed the entire time.

Stu and Billy sneered. And the idea hit you. Charlie…Charlie you shot Charlie in the barn. He wants to be the ‘new Randy’...He was jealous and killed Randy because Randy got Kirby's attention, Randy was the movie expert, Randy was a cool nerd in school unlike Charlie. 

You shook your head in disgust. “You'll never be Randy…Do you hear me? He was better than you in every fucking way!” You forced out through tears and clenched teeth. They stopped kissing as you practically snarled at Jill. “And you will never be me! You're nothing but a jealous attention seeking litt-” 

You cried out as she pistol whipped you upside the face hard enough to jerk your head and taste blood in your mouth. Billy and Stu had to stop themselves from lunging at her, remembering the gun.

Jill looked at you with a glare as you coughed and wiped blood off your lip. Swearing she just knocked out a tooth. 

“Don't you get it? You're old news.” She gave plainly. 

You stood back up, blood on the corner of your lip as you tiredly clutched your stomach.

Trevor cried out from on the floor, “Jill, baby! Please, this isn't you!” 

Jill gave him a bored look. Leveling the gun at him and holding the knife towards you. You swore she was gonna shoot him but instead…She looked at Charlie.

“Charlie…Ya know, now with us being able to pin this on thee Billy Loomis and Stu Macher…Trevor's role can change. We don't need another Billy or Stu…But we need a James. I mean, every final girl needs some fucked up shit to happen to her like her boyfriend being mutilated. Media will eat that up.” 

Your eyes widened and you shook your head. 

Charlie even faltered a moment. 

Jill glared at him. “Do not chicken out on me now, Charlie!” 

Charlie just shook his head swallowing. “Not chickening out…Just gotta make sure we film this. Are we good on time?” He started putting the Ghostface outfit back on.

Jill smiled, “Oh yeah, we're perfect.” 

Trevor looked terrified and so did you as Charlie quickly threw Jill's outfit on, getting the mask off the counter and turned the inner camera on. He dropped down to Trevor and slid the knife threatenly over his neck. 

“D-Don't!” You begged on deaf ears as Trevor gave a blood curdling scream as Charlie started doing what Billy and Stu did to your boyfriend back in 1996 in that field. Billy and Stu seemed both unfazed or annoyed at best while you closed your eyes and covered your ears screaming over Trevor, “STOP IT!!” 

The sounds of him screaming in pain, flesh being ripped as Charlie pulled while sawing, the smell of blood. You felt ready to scream yourself as Billy to your shock drew you near with a hand on your shoulder protectively so you didn't do something stupid like lash out. Him and Stu watched the whole time. While this was the one traumatic thing that happened to you indirectly that you thankfully didn't see even if James was a shitty boyfriend. You closed your eyes and Billy had a death grip on you. You felt sick whether from bloodlose or this was debatable.

You shakily looked when the screams died down and wished you hadn't. Seeing Trevor bloody and half his face skinned off as he seemed to tremble and writhe as his body went into shock from the pain. You wanted to pass out or throw up and knowing Billy and Stu gleefully did this that night while calling you and…And hearing James sobbing and begging you to help him.

Billy's grip tightened on your shoulder as if he knew. His eyes narrowed. Stu tried inching towards a door and Jill shot the gun near the door as everyone flinched or ducked.

She said nothing, not wanting her voice on camera. As Charlie peeled his face the rest of the way off then stabbed him from sternum to groin as he choked and jerked and spasmed in pain on the floor.

And Jill just numbly watched…Watched a boy that loved her get this done to him.

Charlie took off the mask and shut off the camera with a bewildered smirk. “Holy shit…That was awesome.” He held up Trevor's face. “Hey, YN; wanna reenact TCM 2?” And tried to threatenly put Trevor's face on yours as you instinctively hid in Billy's chest. Trying to face away with an uncharacteristic whimper at what you were just forced to see. Like you were a scared teen girl all over again.

“I will staple that face to yours if you even try it! It'll be one hell of an improvement!” Stu jeered and weakly shoved him back as Billy put an arm over you.

 However, Billy gripped you and forced you to turn around. You knew it was his way of silently telling you to be strong and you forced yourself to not look at Trevor or the face in Charlie's hand and instead glared at Jill. Feeling weak with blood loss and yet you had so much hate for her. 

Jill smiled, “Now THAT is going to get views.” She looked at you. “See with you the world just heard about what happened but with us…They're gonna see it. It's gonna be a worldwide sensation. I mean, people gotta see this shit!” Jill chuckled. “It's not like anyone reads anymore.” 

Charlie took off the glove and showed you guys a video of…Of Randy being killed. Of him on the ground backpedaling with an arrow in him. All alone in the dark. 

“No please! Don't-” He got cut off choking in pain as he was stabbed repeatedly. “D-Don't hurt them…Don't hurt my kids and wife…D-D-Don't hurt YN…Please-” He pleaded with blood near his mouth before screaming in pain again as Charlie stabbed him repeatedly and the video cut off…To a close up of him hanging…Still twitching barely alive as he hung there…Guts out.

Tears welled in your eyes as your breathing got shallow. You were trembling with so much rage and mind shattering devastation. Seeing your best friend in his final moments tonight in pain begging for his life…For yours even after your argument. Even after everything he didn't hate you.

“...I'm gonna kill you…You goddamn pieces of shit…” You forced out shakily through your teeth as tears rolled down your cheeks. “I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU!!” Billy and Stu had to jerk you back, Billy the least injured having you in almost a headlock before you got shot. 

Jill laughed, “God, you are so dramatic! So that goody two shoes love and peace for all; is that some PR move or-” She mocked as Billy jerked you and you were trying to fight him even in ungodly pain to get to her or Charlie.

“Stop! Now!” Billy ordered in your ear. “...We'll get them…” He reassured while still holding you back as you stopped struggling and glared daggers at them both tears rolling down your face.

Charlie informed you. “Stole Robbie's Dad's crossbow. I mean that guy on Walking Dead just gave me major ideas and Robbie also…Lured Randy back to the party by recording you and Kirby. Poor kid had no idea he was helping me get Randy tonight. Jill took care of things at her house and Kirby's phone.” 

You could only glare at him.

Jill told you. “We're gonna have fame you never even dreamed of.” 

Charlie looked at Jill in adoration. “You were the perfect victim, Jill.” 

Jill laughed like a teen girl getting away with sneaking out past curfew while Trevor bled out on the floor. “I was SO believable today, wasn't I? I mean, I told so many lies that I actually started to believe them…I really think that I was born for this.” 

Stu huffed, looking tired and woozy himself. “Congratulations.” He sarcastically monotoned. 

You got away from Billy as he let you go and you demanded weakly, “How could you do this?...Sidney-” 

“Shut up!” Jill demanded, her smiling dropping. “Do you even know what it was like in this family being related to Sidney Prescott?! Sidney this and Sidney that and Sidney, Sidney, Sidney! She was always just SO FUCKING SPECIAL!” She screeched.  “And then you…” She pointed the knife at you. “I hated you just as much. What? You survive bad luck and get all this attention? Big house somewhere, never have to work, all these interviews and book deals because your life was hard?...You had your 15 minutes of fame NOW I WANT MINE!” She yelled.

Billy groaned as Stu tiredly mumbled to him. “Told you. Fame. You owe me 50 bucks.” 

You ignored them and stared at her, shaking your head mumbling. “You'll slip. They always do.” 

Jill gave a wry smirk, looking back at Billy and Stu who technically did get away with it before saying, “Come on Charlie, let's get this over with.” 

Stu was losing a lot of blood and so were you as you both gripped the counters and Billy wasn't able to run. You all were pretty much sitting ducks right now.

Charlie handed Jill the knife. He started breathing puffs of air out of his mouth, bouncing on his feet as Jill told him loudly, “You've gotta be strong…And hold still! Okay?” 

He nervously breathed, “Old School, like Billy and Stu.” 

Billy made a face and Stu despite his condition let out a mocking laugh. Billy added over Stu's laughter, “That's right, real deep too. Don't be pussies now in front of your idols-”  

Charlie closed his eyes saying “Come on, get it up-” Before slapping himself across the face multiple times.

Stu laughed silently hanging his head and leaning on the counter for support.

You stood there thinking you felt like you were in a Twilight Zone right now or a damn insane asylum from back in the day while Stu and Billy had sadistic grins on their faces eager to see some ‘fan’ that gave them injuries get stabbed.

Charlie smacked his shoulder shakily yelling at Jill, “Shoulder me, shoulder me! Come on! GET IT UP-” 

You gasped with a slight satisfaction yourself when Jill plunged the knife right into his chest. Billy went from watching with interest to smirking with a dark look in his eye and Stu through his sweat and pain grinned ear to ear.

Charlie choked a gasp, holding his bleeding chest. “The heart?!- T-That's not how we rehearsed it!” 

You finally spoke with an edge to your voice. “You said it. Billy and Stu…If Trevor became James. And Robbie was supposed to be Stu…” 

Jill smirked to herself seeing it dawn on Charlie. She told him, “I know it's going against the script…But this is a franchise. Not a remake. And what the media loves is a sole survivor.” She whispered cruelly. “Robbie was your partner. Both of you jealous little outcasts but you…You were the idea man.” 

She plunged the knife in again as Charlie gasped harshly falling to his knees. Hyperventilating as he bled. Shock written all over his face before collapsing in a pathetic heap on the ground. 

You didn't care if it made you a monster too…There was some satisfaction. Especially when you remembered what he showed you on that phone. “You'll never be Randy, Charlie.” Was the last thing you said as Stu almost gave a little hollar of glee and Billy chuckled under his breath watching Charlie be betrayed and now only seconds from dying.

You glanced at Jill holding your stomach and like Stu things were getting blurry for you. “So…You killed all your friends…Now what?” You asked the bigger picture of what happens when all this is said and done.

Jill glared at you. “My Friends?” 

She walked up to you and Billy and Stu tensed up a bit. It was 3 against 1. 2 grown men, a grown woman and one teen girl…Problem was 1 grown man looked ready to pass out, the grown woman wasn't far behind him, the other grown man had a fucked up leg now that couldn't move as fast and the little teen bitch from hell still had the gun.

“What world are you living in? I don't need friends, I need fans ….DON'T YOU GET IT!?” She snapped at you. “This has never been about killing you…This is about becoming you. I mean for fucksake all my friends and boyfriend had to die.” 

“And your mother?” You asked, trying to be brave but staring crazy in the face again after so long…Worked on your mind.

“Collateral damage.” She mused with nothing in her dark eyes…Just nothing. “That's sick right? Well, sick is the new sane.” She whispered with a small smile eyeing you.

Even Billy and Stu didn't kill their own parents.

“You had your 15 minutes now I WANT MINE!” She yelled in your face. “I mean, what am I supposed to do? Go to college, grad school, work? Look around. We're all in the public eye now, we're all on the internet…How do you think people become famous anymore!? You don't have to achieve ANYTHING!” She gestured to you. “You just gotta have fucked up shit happen to you.” 

You stared at her in shock at her logic of wanting to be you. To have your life. To want to be the victim, to want to have people whisper about you or treat you horribly or treat you like glass. To have a target on your back forever.

All of this…ALL of this pain…Because some brat wanted attention and to get by easy in life?

Billy and Stu looked just as bewildered as you. Stu finally gave a humorously dry chuckle while trying to breathe, still holding his wounds. “I mean…Okay idea but-” 

She instantly shot him.

You froze as Stu got shot somewhere in the abdomen and went flying back. Billy went to lunge at Jill and got shot as well. He growled in pain and hit the counter. Wincing and slipping on his bloody palms trying to keep himself up. Stu laid limply and you tried not to hyperventilate at how messed up this was becoming because of one damn girl. Stu groaned on the ground coughing as he weakly held himself.

Jill laughed, “I WAS going to kill you all and blame Charlie and Trevor or Charlie and Robbie but now?...No…I think it doesn't matter if these two idiots live. Great! Because no one will question it. NO ONE. Billy Loomis and Stu Macher survived? They clearly did this and almost killed a poor innocent girl after slaughtering her friends.” 

You shook your head with fearful tears in your eyes. Billy glared daggers at her sneering, “You dumb little fuck…You think I'm going down after 15 years?!” He grabbed a kitchen knife and took the risk of throwing it. 

It went right into the arm that held the gun as she screamed and he instantly with his adrenaline pumping tried to grab it…You went for it too this time to help him instead of the other few times.

You gasped as a sharp painful cry escaped him…Jill stabbed him in the abdomen and jerked sideways. 

“Billy!-” You went to attack her too, hoping for an opening. ANYTHING! You were gonna die and-

She jerked the knife out of her arm with an almost enraged scream and stabbed you when you least expected it. She made it look like you had an opening to grab that gun and maybe you did? But her determination was just that much stronger.

She plunged the knife deep into you as you saw Billy had tried to get up multiple times and kept slipping while trying to hold his own wound close and slumped down gasping for air…Stu wasn't moving from what you could see…And you just got stabbed again. Deep. Blood spurted over your hand. This felt higher than before.

“Sorry, there's only room for one final girl and let's face it…Your time's up.” She looked so pleased with herself. So giddy as you collapsed onto your stomach.

You laid there trembling, barely breathing with your eyes wide open in fear. You heard footsteps seeing Jill walking away.

Billy looked just as bad but your eyes locked with each other on the kitchen floor. “B-B-Bill-” You couldn't even get his name out.

He shhed you. Cringing and as quietly as he could gritted his teeth to drag himself over to you as Jill started going ahead and hurting herself…Absolutely trying to kill herself by stabbing you hitting her head on a glass picture frame while yelling in pain. Trying to make it all look like she was brutally attacked.

Billy shhed you again when tears started falling from your eyes…After so long of being numb…You didn't wanna die. 

“I'm…I'm scared…Billy-” You just admitted it. Trembling like a scared child while bleeding out on the ground. Things were getting harder to focus on as he laid next to you on his back to keep his guts from pressing against the gash. 

You never thought you'd ever give him the satisfaction. Not at that shed, not in your house, not in the closet, Stu's house, Windsor, the motel- Never thought you'd give him the satisfaction of admitting you were scared of dying but you were.

Your hand trembled uncontrollably and he shhed you again. Weakly telling you, “Hey…Shh…It's alright…Don't cry, she'll hear you. If she stabs us in the head or throat or heart we're done, kid.” 

You shook your head trying not to sob as your head felt like you were gonna faint. 

“You're tough. Okay?...You can do this…You've always been a tough bitch to beat…I should know…Don't let that brat win. Don't let me or Stu win either…” He told you with heavy tired eyes. His head lolling to the side to gaze at you. Both of you held eye contact before he reached out and so did you.

“Billy…I-...I never meant…I always wanted-” You knew what you wanted to say but…Getting it out.

He stopped you with another soft shh and held your hand. He held it tight. His own fear of dying present but his urge to put on a brave face for his ego…For you too; was stronger. It's like he knew what you meant and he released a soft breath of air as if a giant weight was off his shoulders.

“Mine…” He mumbled with a small tired smile. “You've always been mine…” And then his eyes just…Closed.

Mark entered your mind and you couldn't control the small whimper as you trembled Jill crashing into things in the background.

“...Billy?” You whispered. Trying to move but couldn't as you held his hand so tight it hurt. “Billy, wake up. Please…” You whimpered as you were so tired…So so tired.

The last thing you saw was black…And glass shattering as Jill threw herself on the coffee table…And then sirens outside.

[humornaut]

hi!! i’m a relatively new omori fan (a brainrotted fan, however, with 140 hours in the game so far… and 98% completion bc i lost to the recyclepath.. -_-) anyway, i love your analysis posts, you’ve clearly studied the details of this game very well!!

i was hoping to ask about the timeline of white space and headspace creation, if you have the time and would like to! my roommate and i played together and have tried to piece it together a few times over the four playthroughs we’ve done (two of each route), but there are still some details that seem contradictory to me. i’m sorry if this is obvious though!

so the transcript of the truth album says “you sink into a crevice in your mind… an empty white room” so i initially assumed white space was created on the day of the incident, in that dissociative state while mari was in the bed. you also see this in the sequence after three days left before going back into headspace where it’s sunny and basil in front of the door, then sunny in white space, then the manifestation of omori. of course, we’ve also been told “you’ve been living here for as long as you can remember”, but we can assume the “you” is omori instead of sunny, which makes sense if he was created in white space

however. in the lost library we see that sunny used to explore headspace during school, presumably before the incident, and daddy longlegs says “in the beginning, there only existed two... the dreamer and his room” and then “the dreamer grew weary of his room and created a door that led to many different worlds”, referring to white space and headspace, so white space existed first. so white space existed before the incident.

so then the white space reference from the truth album is maybe about the manifestation of omori, instead of the creation of white space. i think the outfit sunny’s wearing in the omori cut scene is also the same as from the day of the incident (the black tshirt & shorts). so presumably (before the incident), sunny used to explore headspace as sunny instead of as omori.

daddy longlegs then goes on to talk about black space, and how omori was created to let sunny “ascend to a blissful state of ignorance” and “forget himself” (this also prompts an interesting question of how sentient omori is — because he’s the protector (& knows enough to be willing to kill basil) but he’s also “ignorant of his own fabrication”, according to daddy longlegs, but i guess that’s another matter entirely!) black space was created in response to trauma, so that again supports the idea that omori was manifested after the incident.

so then white space. a place to survive but not to live. the black lightbulb is the repression of an idea, ie, the lightbulb was created after the incident. but sure, white space can exist without the lightbulb. my question then is, why did sunny need a place to survive before then? we could say that dissociation has always been his go-to reaction in stressful situations, and that’s why. but he was also in white space long enough to get bored of it, enough to conjure headspace.

we have a few vague clues that sunny & mari’s home life could have been bad, but nothing concrete. and personally, i’m of the opinion that his life being more or less ideal to begin with enhances the tragedy of the story (as well as him and basil having opposite tragedies, as i saw someone else point out — sunny’s being that he was already very much loved & cared for, so it’s worse when it’s taken away, basil’s that he never had that in the first place), but i guess that’s up to interpretation. other than home life issues then, just the stress of the violin? general developmental issues? depression? something else?

i’d be super curious to hear what you think (again, if you have the time)… thank you! :)

Hi there! Sorry about how long this took me, I've had a lot going on + I actually wrote a whole long response that took me like a week of on and off working, and then I accidentally shut off my computer and lost the whole thing :(

I want to start this off with a couple disclaimers: Omori intentionally keeps its timeline close to its chest (presumably to add to the game's feelings of unease and the mystery of it all) AND we see evidence throughout the game that during Omori's long development cycle, it saw multiple changes to its story that ultimately makes the game's timeline a little inconsistent in a way that doesn't really matter.

I think I don't really have to explain the first point to you, but it will be relevant when talking about Headspace, because the game doesn't even commit to Headspace being purely a dream, as there are plenty of indications throughout it that it could be something a bit more supernatural.

However, I do want to elaborate on my second point there, mostly because this is something that I've wanted to talk about for awhile, and what better time to bring it up than when we are talking about the timeline! So:

How Old is Hero Omori?

I swear this is an actually interesting question

It might seem silly to ask this, considering the game actually tells us how old he is in Headspace, but stick with me.

Based on this line, Hero (and presumably Mari) are 15 pre-canon, while the rest of the group turns 12 during the year of the album (except Kel, who would've turned 12 prior to Basil getting the album).

So let's take the time skip into account. When we first meet real world Aubrey, she says this:

After this point, the game tends to stick to the time skip being four years whenever it comes up. But this isn't technically true! Even accounting for the months after the incident that Sunny continued going outside for, the incident happened in October, while Sunny comes out again during the summer. Most likely, we're actually looking at around 3 and a half years, with Sunny coming back outside the summer that he would turn 16. Since we are presumably at the beginning of the summer, with Hero just now coming home from college, Sunny would actually be 15, at least during the main portion of the game, though once he's in the hospital, it appears some time has passed so that school has now started back up.

Why does this matter? Well, based on this timeline with Hero being 15 in the photo album, he should have turned 19 the January prior to the game's main events, and this is what most people see as canon. However, within the United States, most people, unless they graduate early or late, will leave High School the year they turn 18, meaning most people turn 19 during their first year at college (if they attend).

At first glance, this doesn't seem to be an issue, but we know for a fact that Hero has actually been away at college for two years, due to this interaction:

This is the second summer that Hero has returned from college! He should be 20! Now Hero is a bit of an overachiever, so it is possible that what is actually happening here is that he graduated early, but I doubt that due to what we know about how Hero reacted to Mari's death.

For that first year, even if Hero was technically going to school, he certainly wasn't excelling at it. By the time he gets to the state we see him in-game, he has maybe a year to a year and a half left of schooling. I'm really not sure that I can buy Hero graduating early, regardless of how well he does from that point on.

I also want to acknowledge that the game could simply take place ~4 1/2 years, rather than 3 1/2. There's no reason not to go with this, other than it would mean that the younger four are actually 17 during the game. You are free to believe this instead, but I am going to go into what I actually think is going here next.

We know that the characters got younger during development. We actually have an older version of the photo album, in which instead of saying that Sunny was turning 12, it says 13. Why did this happen?

Let's take a look at Aubrey's recollection of what happened following Mari's death:

For reference, this is part of what she says at the tree stump during One Day Left.

Her words here imply that she wasn't actually aware about how bad it was for Hero, and most of the fandom typically just leaves it at that.

But that's weird, right? Look at what she says. It seems like she did HAVE a reason for why Hero wasn't available, it was just incorrect. And what's more, this is definitely how Hero would've been after his year of very much not studying. There's no reason that Aubrey would believe that Hero reacted to Mari's death in this way unless it was true, especially since it is something that would later be true.

I also want to point out that Kel's talk in the cemetery in which he tells us how Hero reacted to Mari's death is entirely optional and disconnected from the actual main story cutscenes in the real world.

To bring this full circle, I also want to point out a mechanic that was added to the game VERY late in development:

You might see where I'm going with this.

Here's my theory. Originally, Hero would not have reacted to Mari's death with staying in bed for a year in a depressed state. Instead, he would've immediately become lost in his studies as a coping mechanism. However, when the team had the idea for the emotions chart, they likely realized that while happy and angry fit Kel and Aubrey's coping methods respectively quite well, Hero did not seem to fit sadness all that well at all.

In order to make Hero fit sadness, they change his story so that he stayed in a depressed state for a year, but they don't remove his original story of getting lost in his schoolwork. After all, they already had the writing and art assets finished and the game had already been in development for a long time. So instead of doing any major rewrites of the actual script, they simply add a single cutscene in the graveyard that doesn't seem to contradict anything that lets us know that this is how Hero reacted!

Then they had another problem. If Hero spent a year not caring about school, how would he have graduated on time? It would've been difficult even for an overachiever to do two years of schooling in one year. This is an easy fix as well! All you have to do is go through the very few instances of characters' ages being mentioned, and make everyone a year younger! It would've been a lot easier for Hero to catch up and excel if he had an additional year to do so after the incident with Kel! It also gives us another instance of a character getting overwhelmed and angry and pushing someone they care about, which we see multiple times! It works really well, and I like it a lot, but I haven't been able to unsee this change being made ever since the first time I thought of it. The minor line of dialogue about the hero sandwich that reveals Hero has been in college for two years would have been overlooked, since it doesn't mention his age, and likely would've been forgotten due to its unimportance. Aubrey's line, while wrong, can also still be explained away by her simply not being in the know about how Hero really reacted to Mari's death.

I'm not saying this is definitely what happened, but this theory does explain that one tiny little inconsistency that we see in the game. Could also be nothing though idk I'm not perfect

SO

The timeline of the creation of Headspace, White Space, and Black Space! The thing you actually asked about and care about!

It's a little difficult to actually place a lot of things here. Headspace is already so vague. We can use Daddy Longlegs' explanation as a general guide, but it's still difficult to figure out how it lines up with the between night cutscenes, as well as some of the other things.

What I can say is that Omocat has explained Sunny's dream worlds as a very real reaction to trauma that some people have. From this perspective, it would've always existed in some form.

In regards to the truth album line about sinking into the empty room, it's important to keep in mind that nothing there (unless I am super mistaken) implies that this is the first time that Sunny has been there, only that it is happening in that moment. In fact, I find the use of the term "sink" to be very interesting in this context, because very recently prior to the end of the photo album and the incident itself, Sunny had another very traumatic experience when he nearly drowned at the lake. This incident is also very important because many of the traumas that we see from Sunny in game come from this incident. He is still extremely scared of heights, spiders, and drowning by the time the game happens. I don't think it is out of the realm of possibility that White Space was initially created as a response to that, assuming that it didn't already exist for Sunny's entire life.

Next! Headspace, as I understand it, refers specifically to the dream world that Sunny created by merging a bunch of different dream worlds together in order to hide away Black Space, as told by Daddy Longlegs. What we see in the school day memory isn't Sunny exploring Headspace, rather it is just establishing that Sunny has always had a creative and wandering mind, which is why he was able to create Headspace as a coping method in the first place.

The "you've been living here for as long as you can remember" line can also mean many things! It can refer to Omori, as you said, or it could refer to Sunny always having White Space to some extent, OR (and I find this to be the most likely answer) that regardless of how long Sunny has actually had White Space, his repression of ALL his memories both the good and the bad mean that this is literally all he can remember!

All of this is to say: I don't really know. I'm really sorry about that, I've typed this up multiple times trying to come up with a satisfying timeline that I can actually point at evidence for. I believe that Sunny probably had access to White Space before the incident itself, but Headspace probably only became necessary to form out of his different dreamworlds and fantasies after the incident. He was always creative, so he always had creative dreams, but Headspace itself was almost assuredly a post-incident creation.

I apologize that this probably wasn't the answer you were looking for. There might be an answer in there somewhere, but I hope I've shown here how trying to come up with a definitive timeline for Omori can create issues.

[crimeronan]

thinking about hunter and luz being tiny babies in the princess AU to soothe my soul, as i often do. i think i've said something to this effect before, but like. i think there was a point when they were really young when belos was like "well, i have a human heir now, i can kill the boy and be free of all this wretched business" and Fully intended to Dispose Of hunter, bc it's like. luz is four years old she's not going to remember any of this. Who Cares

but hunter is luz's main guide to this strange new world. and he's just old enough that he seems Wise and Learned (he is not). he's the only person close enough to luz's age to be a peer, but he's taller and bolder and stronger and better at identifying danger, and luz LOVES him.

so when belos tries to take hunter away from her, luz throws the most epic tantrum the world has ever seen. (arguably it is not a tantrum and is in fact an autistic meltdown that.... just happens to work in her favor.) and THAT'S when belos is like. hmmmmmmmm. i see this girl knows how to be entitled and selfish. perhaps i can project my entire personality onto her. maybe this is what hunter needs to become caleb. let's give it One Last Shot

twelve years later, belos will be shocked and appalled that luz is throwing the exact same fit all over again. what do you MEAN you don't want him dead. you're supposed to be me!!!!!! >:(

meanwhile luz is just scritching hunter behind the ears to listen to him purr like. yeah i'm you. i'm really entitled and possessive. my boy forever <3 thanks <333

while hunter is just like. sound asleep and drooling on her shoulder.