#phone conveniently held in front of his face

[larrylimericks]

5Mar23

A selfie shot in a gym mirror, Fast gone but H couldn’t be clearer: An Up All Night flex (Fetus Larry on pecs!), There’s naur one who holds 1D dearer.

[httpsghostie]

Three's a Crowd

bro I have no words for what I've just written it's pure filth I can't stop wont stop I need them internally

I'm not sorry for this

Summary: a situationship between your lieutenant and your colonel that leads to obscene measures.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: smut, Simon 'Ghost' Riley x female!reader x König, unprotected piv and dp sex, kinda cuckold (?, light spanking, dacryphilia, praising/humiliating, lots of pet names, breeding kink, choking, no use of y/n

masterlist

NSFW under the cut

You didn't know exactly how, but you ended up in a situationship between the colonel and your lieutenant, none of them knowing about each other.

Ghost was never the jealous type, at least that's what he said. But some things changed when he heard your voice when he was passing in front of König's room.

"Scheiße, baby." He moaned. It wasn't so loud, but since Ghost had keen senses and was practically merging his ear with the door, it was loud enough for him to hear. He was startled, how could you do this?

For a brief moment, he felt insecure. Was he not enough for you? That's why you had to find someone else to give you pleasure? But you've always told him how it was good, how he fucked you just the way you liked it.

Lieutenant 'not the jealous type' Ghost.

Ironical.

But that feeling changed when he was pinning your face to the mattress, ass up, his cock abusing your hole. He held his phone up, filming how your ass jiggled when he thrusted hard inside you. Your arms were tied behind your back with his belt, and he held them before pulling out and jerking himself off, coming on your ass, cum dripping down your big lips.

And, well, that video was 'accidentally' sent to König's e-mail. 

She lets me cum inside.

Ghost could not fucking believe the answer he read on the phone. He expected König to back off, but apparently König had the same expectations.

He couldn't confront you, and the idea of sharing you with his superior was slowly driving him nuts. You noticed he started fucking you rougher, he'd shoot videos of you two having sex saying he needed those to remind him of you. Of course it was weird at first, but you could trust him, or so you thought.

On the other side, König was also a bit different, the man was once calm, always taking his time with you, but he started to enjoy being meaner. He'd either deny or overstimulate you until you cried on his girthy and long dick hitting your cervix. 

One day, while gagging on König's dick, you noticed him eyeing the locked phone on the bed, beside him. Without stopping, you reached for it and opened the camera, placing it on his large palm. He looks down at you, confused, and you give him a cock drunk smile. He didn't want to ask to film you, so this was pretty much convenient for him.

That was the first video he sent to Ghost in response to him fucking you senseless.

He was speechless. His cocky demeanor vanished as he tried to come up with a snarky response. Nothing could've prepared him to see you drooling on another cock. Unintentionally, the sight of you sucking another guy's dick made him hard. He had to excuse himself out of the meeting because he had a boner. It was funny, he felt like a teen.

But you noticed how both of them were different towards you and each other. They weren't used to talking before, and now it seemed like they'd punch each other's faces whenever they met in common rooms. König assigned difficult tasks towards Ghost and the thought of them knowing about your situationship terrified you once it crossed your mind.

You thought about confronting them, explaining the whole situation. They were both excellent in bed and they provided you with different feelings. König was soft and caring and Ghost was… well, Ghost. But you knew you could lose them two, even though you didn't have an established relationship with them.

One day, the task force is all drinking together, playing truth or dare. Gaz is dared to do something obscene, and he playfully moans like a girl.

Aye, sounds like the lad in König's room.

You choke, spitting the whiskey coke out, the soda gets out from your nose and your eyes get teary from the gas. They all get quiet when they look at you and you fake a laugh, of course Soap had to say that. 

They soon forgot about the awkwardness and went back to the game, but Ghost was eyeing you like a prey. You purposefully avoided them since you all joined for the party, and he and König sat on opposite sides from each other. You sat in between Price and Gaz, you all in a weird circle.

Meeting room. Now.

Your phone buzzed as you received a message from your Lieutenant. You read it from the notifications and looked up, but he was already gone in the darkness. You come up with an excuse and get out of the common area.

When you walked in, the phantom was standing right across the table, you could only see a glimpse of his eyes. The lights were off, but the room was lit when he started typing the digits of his phone password. He slowly stands up and walks towards you, your legs already trembling with fear. The phone is left on the table right in front of you, displaying a video of your fucked out face while sucking a dick very different from his.

"Simon, I can expl-" you try to say, but you're cut off as he grabs a fistful of your hair and buries your face on the cold wooden surface of the table.

"Y'know why I brought you here?" He asks, holding your wrists behind your back. "So everyone can see who you belong to." You feel him restraining your hands with one of his hands, and the spare one unfastened his belt and pulled his pants down just enough to expose his already hard dick.

At this moment, you thank yourself for wearing sweatpants, because they were easily pulled down from your body. He lifted his mask and spat on your pussy, then entered you with his full length, not giving you time to get used to his size.

He fucked you desperately, grabbing your hair again, making you look at the looping video on the screen of his phone.

"You're such a fucking little slut." He groaned. "You're so desperate you need two fat cocks?" You felt ashamed, your face burning, not knowing if it was from the whiskey or the embarrassment. The door made a locking sound and you jolted, but Ghost's grip didn't let you give a look. "Like what you see here, Colonel?" He asks in between breaths, you squirm and try to move but he holds you in place. Soon there was a figure across from you, sitting on the empty chair and manspreading.

"If you fucked her good enough she wouldn't come to me." He said in that thick German accent.

"You're really petty for a second option." Ghost holds your throat from behind, choking you and forcing you to look at König. You can see König's dick getting hard, it wasn't easy for him to mask that due to his size. He got up and slowly walked around the table to get to you. 

"How does he feel, schatz?" König grabs you by the chin, blue orbits finding its way into your soul. You couldn't even babble an answer, Ghost was fucking you brainless. Your eyes could only look back to König and your head could only nod. He lifts a bit of his hood and gives you a kiss, his lips containing the warmth you needed to melt.

"Kneel." Ghost demands you as he pulls out. You do as you're told, but in order to comfortably be on your knees, you pull your pants back up. They don't seem to care. König takes his belt off and folds it, running it from your chest to your chin, lifting your head.

"Be a good girl, ya?" He says as he pushes his pants down, his dick bouncing up as he releases from the boxers. Without even noticing, your mouth was already open and your tongue was laying flat. König brushed his pinkish, leaking tip on your lips and tongue, the familiar salty taste of his precum invading your senses. He pushes it in your mouth, fucking it slowly. Your hand travels to Ghost's dick and jerks him off as he watches. "Like what you see, Lieutenant?" König chuckles.

Ghost was going to give him a sarcastic response, but his head fell back when you started to suck him off, your hand now on König. As you expected, Ghost wasn't so gentle, so his hand grabbed your hair and pushed your throat down his length. You soon became a drooling mess, taking turns on each throbbing cock in front of you.

Your jaw became sore, taking just one of them was already hard enough. You felt a pressure against your pussy and looked down, König's boot was grinding against you. You groan, sinking your weight on his foot. The more you gagged around them, the more he'd move.

"Didn't I tell you were just a fucking whore?" Ghost pulled from your mouth and tapped his cock on your tear stained cheeks. "Getting off his foot, huh? So desperate." As if it was possible for you to get any wetter, you felt another wave of arousal moisten your panties.

He got you up and almost dragged you to the sofa in the corner of the room. König followed just behind. Ghost sat down and made you kneel in front of him, and König positioned himself behind you, large palms roaming your small body and gently pulling your pants down again. He aligned his shaft with your soaked pussy and in one long thrust he pushed it deep inside you.

"Just so… fucking tight." You hear him whimper as he bottoms out. Your eyes are locked with the masked man in front of you, that's slowly jerking himself off at the sight of you being filled by someone else. "Gonna have to tear this pretty pussy apart." You clench around him and he starts fucking you. 

Ghost gently pulls your face closer and lifts his mask, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips. You could only moan, in hope no one else could hear it. Your lips were now connected on Ghost's member, eagerly sucking him off. Your moans sent vibrations down his skin and he groaned whenever you gagged.

König's cock was buried deep down your walls, he felt an incessant need to slam his hips into yours and make you a moaning mess, so he held your hips in place as he thrusted hard into you. One of his hands travelled down to your clit and started rubbing circles, easily making you orgasm around him. He felt his climax getting closer, but he didn't want this moment to end just as quick. When his pace became erratic, he pulled out, slapping your ass.

He got up and sat down beside Ghost, who got up and pulled you to his arms, holding you firmly in the air. Your legs were pushed to your chest, the back of your knees held by his veiny forearms. He entered your used hole and started slow, but it didn't last long and he was soon bouncing you up and down his length.

König watched as you took Ghost entirely, thinking about how tight you'd feel with another cock inside you. He gets up and walks behind you, brushing his tip on you.

"Do you think she can handle?" König asks with genuine concern.

"She'll take it and thank you for it, isn't that right, bunny?" Your arms are wrapped around his shoulders, your face buried in his neck. You manage a small nod before feeling another monstrous cock entering your abused hole.

How that fit was a story for another day, but your pussy was happy to be filled by two men. The pain started to go away and you moved a bit to signal them to go. They managed to keep the same pace for a while. König let you lay back on his chest as Ghost held your legs, they pushed deep down into your core.

"Look at you, taking both of us." Ghost mumbles. "Such an obedient little pet." 

"Such a good girl, liebe." König moans in your ear.

They kept fucking you until you felt empty again. Emptier than ever. Your pants were taken away from your body and König pulled you on top of him as he sat down on the couch, already making you sit on his shaft. Ghost came behind you and you felt a humid finger entering your tight little hole. 

"Simon-" you moan.

"Shut up." He puts another finger in.

"Too much."

"You've taken it before and you're gonna take it again like the good slut you are, understood?" You slowed down on König and felt another finger inside of you, stretching your butthole. You couldn't help but whimper at the way he was using you. "Don't stop fucking her." König holds your hips and starts thrusting harder.

Ghost replaced his fingers with his aching dick and you've never felt so good, so filled. He waited a minute before moving, giving you a bit to adjust. But goddamn it you were tight.

As soon as the pain went away, he started to move, gradually going faster. König was a whimpering mess below you, moaning german praises in your ear. In little to no time, you found yourself being railed once again.

"Can't take much more." König whimpered, digging his nails on your hips. Ghost landed a sharp slap to your ass and towered over you to reach for your clit, he stimulated you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, trying to memorize your scent.

Your legs trembled as you felt your high approaching faster and faster, and you fall on König's chest, trying to muffle your loud moans. 

"That's right, baby, be a good girl and come for us." König holds you close, reaching a new spot. That's what it took for you to squirt all over their dicks. Crying at the non stopping thrusts.

"Always have to leave a mess, huh?" You're still squirming as you hear Ghost say. "Fuck, you're so pretty when you cry."

König also feels his orgasm approaching and with a few more thrusts he can't hold it anymore.

"Gonna fill your cunt with my cum." He moans, holding your chin to look at him. He comes inside of you, but he doesn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. He keeps on slamming his dick inside your cervix and pushing his cum inside you, making the tears fall out of your eyes. He becomes a whimpering mess as he overstimulates his dick in your pussy.

Ghost also can't stop thinking about how good you feel, and how bad he needs to cum inside you. He slips a hand in front of your body and squeezes your breasts. It was enough to electrify his body and sent shivers down his spine. With just a few more erratic thrusts, he spills his seeds in your hole. He pulls out, kissing your back through his mask. König finally pulls out too, his dick red from the overstimulation. You collapse on his chest, losing consciousness.

"Truce?" He asks Ghost, who's getting dressed.

"Truce."

[ssahotchnerr]

Thinking about reader always sharing her water with Hotch to remind him to hydrate ehehe. She sets reminders to make sure he actually does hydrate and makes sure to tell the others to do the same as well

gentle reminders

here's everyone's reminder to hydrate!!! cw; established relationship, bau!reader, fluff!

if it weren't for you, the only liquid aaron would mainly consume would be coffee. in such a demanding occupation, especially at his high authority, it made sense.

had trouble sleeping or didn't get enough? coffee. dreading a meeting and needed to be rejuvenated? coffee. had no other choice but to stay up into the early hours of the morning doing paperwork? coffee. the list was seemingly endless.

as a result, you've taken it upon yourself to ensure dehydration didn't strike him, especially from all the dilution coffee itself produced. if he's drinking that much of it, he could at least counteract it by drinking equal the amounts of water. and regardless, he should be consuming more water to begin with; making it more of a habit. his usual excuse of 'forgetting', wasn't going to cut it anymore.

and if he's going to listen to anyone, it's going to be you.

you've preemptively set several reminders throughout the day to better aaron's water intake. your ringer was just loud enough - if tucked in your bag or drawer to gain only your awareness - mindful of it's possible obnoxiousness in the bullpen. if it were to go off loudly several times throughout the workday, it would surely be a reason for complaints. while out in the field, like now, you simply set it on vibrate.

the familiar buzz grabbed your attention, your eyes moving downward to your phone. the screen's lit; the notification of the reminder displayed in the middle.

conveniently, aaron happened to be seated at your left, discussing the geographic profile with spencer and the lead officer, narrowing down the unsub's comfort zone. you screwed open the cap of your water bottle, the seal producing a minor snap, and gingerly setting it down afterwards.

not wanting to interrupt, you simply tugged on aaron's sleeve to gain his attention. his eyes darted towards you in question, and slowly, you slid the opened bottle in his direction.

a gentle, amused almost-laugh puffed out of his nose, not surprised as this was routine at this point, and obeyed. once he managed to find a break within the ongoing conversation, did he grab the water and take a hearty swig. his eyes refound yours, flickering with a warm glint.

it caused your heart to flutter; aaron's eyes softening at your gesture. the quick switch between stoic unit chief, to simply aaron, was a near rare occurrence in the weighted atmosphere of cases, specifically while in the attendance of others. so when it did appear, a greater, more-than-usual surge of affection rippled through you.

but just as quickly as you noticed the lightness, it vanished. aaron's usual pensive expression returned, only his gaze pointed was at you this time, a silent push within it. you rolled your eyes in understanding and retook the bottle from him to take a sip yourself, holding back a smile.

aaron leaned back slightly in his chair, shoulders relaxing in satisfaction.

meanwhile across from you, dave was watching the whole exchange, a rather entertained expression on his face. "how romantic." he mouthed silently - when you noticed his stare.

all in fun, your eyes narrowed at him, before they flicked to his water bottle. with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, you crossed your arms and held your gaze, practically daring him, 'okay, your turn.'

dave's tongue clicked in disapproval, solely for his flair for the dramatics, and began cranking open his water. and spencer being as observant as he was, noticed too and urgently grabbed his water, knowing you would be grounding onto him next. he tucked it under his arm, planning to drink once he concluded circling locations on the map exhibited on the board in front of him.

and for those who currently weren't at the precinct - derek, emily, jj, and even penelope all the way back home - you seized your phone, firing off a quick text in your shared group chat: hydrate reminder!

aaron peeked at his phone as his text tone went off, lips tugging into a barely-there, adoring smile as he read the message. his hand found your thigh underneath the table, giving it a doting squeeze.

[arachnoia]

guilty pleasure | miguel o’hara

infidelity, p in v, unprotected sex, semi-public, drabble

— everyone has their own guilty pleasure. movies, soap operas, hobbies…

“oh fuck baby-"

you squirmed as miguel held his grip on your ass even harder, feeling his hard dick still thrusting into your tight walls.

fucking your boyfriend’s older brother just happened to be yours. without telling your boyfriend of course.

he leaned towards your ear, whispering breathlessly from the pleasure you gave him, “you need to be quiet, mami. what did I tell you last time?���

“t-to be quiet and t-take it…please miguel oh my god.”

the plan: go to a fancy boutique and get a nice dress for a date gabri was going to take you on.

great! that was the plan until miguel, his older brother whom used to have a crush on you growing up, came along.

when did the affair start: in your opinion, it wasn’t an affair and didn’t have a “start”. it was just something you did when gabri was away. you’ve always had a friends with benefits with miguel, even before gabri asked you out. remember he used to have a crush on you growing up? you told him you did too and one thing led to another.

cliché.

you considered wanting to drop miguel but due to some conversations and convincing from him, you didn’t.

it was just out of convenience. which is when miguel sneaked into your dressing room, you questioned why. it was usually out of feeling horny but now was random.

you bit your lip, peering from your left shoulder to see yourself in the mirror. it was quite a sight; you were sweaty and was standing up in front of miguel who kept thrusting in you from behind as he held your hips to adjust. his hands were all over you, from feeling and pinching your perky nipples and sensitive breasts to massaging at your hips and ass.

you clawed at the dressing room walls, hoping to not make any noise or be in too long to suspect gabri. there were seven dresses so hopefully that was a good enough excuse.

“fuck…you’re so good for me, princesa-“ he muttered before kissing your neck. the odds of getting caught was at 25/75, now that miguel’s need of being quiet affected his thrusts as they were almost painfully slow. it was like he was dangling candy in front of you, knowing you wanted it. and what you wanted was for him to go harder. you slightly frowned as it was almost quiet and all you could hear was breathing and quiet groans which someone could mistake for being injured.

it was in complete contrast to how miguel would fuck you until your ass felt hot and all you could hear were loud moans and the loud sound of skin slapping. better than any symphony out there.

“can’t you fucking go faster?!”

you heard him darkly chuckle which led a shiver down your spine, “whatever the princess wants, she’ll get.”

you closed your eyes as he obliged with a small grunt. you felt your legs almost shake from how good he was fucking you. it felt fucking euphoric.

you whipped your head to your phone which lit up to a notification from ‘gabriel <3’. you leaned over to read the notifications from your phone placed in your purse pocket.

‘almost done?’

fuck.

you shakily tried to reached for it before miguel stopped you. “who is it?”

“i-it’s gabri…fuck!”

he rolled his eyes and held your hand as he thrusted more, making you wanna roll your eyes in pleasure, “déjalo.”

he raised your head to make you face the mirror where he made eye contact with your worn out and tired eyes.

“you’re mine right now, mami.”

[querenciasturniolo]

just a guy ⮕ m.s.

word count: 997

warnings: angst, crying, unrequited love, sad ending

summary: matt’s just a guy, you couldn’t help falling for

a/n: avery lynch is a lyrical genius, and i am an absolute mess

The nights he chose you were the same.

The two of you would stay up into the early hours of the morning, talking about everything and nothing all at once, holding onto one another like the other was going to dissipate into nothing. The both of you laughing harder than you’d ever laughed before, at things that could only be funny with the delirium of the night clouding your minds. He was all you ever wanted, but you weren’t his.

“I love you, Matty. You know that, don’t you?” You’d whisper, hearing his even breathing as his head rested on your chest. He was asleep, he was always asleep when you told him how you felt. You’d stare at the ceiling, tears in your eyes and let every single thought about him out into the open. The next morning, the two of you would get up, and live your lives like you didn’t break your own heart the night before.

He’d look at you, and you could have sworn there was something there. Something swimming in the blue of his eyes, something that made you keep going back when he called. You kept telling yourself, every time he pressed his lips against your temple, that he loved you. Every time his eyes scanned over your face while you spoke, he felt the same way. Every time his name would pop up on your phone, he was thinking about you all day.

With your fingers carding through his hair, your eyes on the ceiling, you let yourself crumble. Sobbing silently, praying to any god that was listening to make the pain go away. The only thing keeping you grounded, was his soft breathing, his warm breath against your skin. He had to love you, you don’t look at someone the way he looks at you if you don’t love them. You’d talk to him tomorrow, you decided. While the two of you were waking up fully in each other’s arms, before you let him kiss the top of your head and say his goodbyes, you’d ask him why.

Why he never held your hand in front of his brothers. Why he never took the time to ask you how your day was. Why he never brought you to parties with his friends. Why he kept you on the shelf for his convenience.

It was hard waking up, bringing yourself to the harsh reality. You knew the routine all too well; dress in silence, let him kiss the top of your head while longing for his lips to press to yours.

“Matty?”

He hummed and blinked his eyes towards you. He was sitting at the end of his bed, only a pair of gray sweatpants adorning his legs, scrolling through his phone.

“I have a question.” You said. He nodded and furrowed his eyebrows, locking his phone and tossing it further up the bed. He was all you wanted, sitting there. Sleep was still clouding his eyes, his lips dry and smooth as his tongue peeked out to wet them.

“You love me, right?”

A confused smile adorned his lips. “Of course I love you, why would you ask me that?”

He looked entirely too comfortable with his answer, and it made your chest ache.

“How do you love me?” You asked, swallowing the knot in your throat as you fought off the little voice in the back of your mind, screaming that you already knew the answer.

He huffed a short laugh and shook his head. “What kind of question is that?”

It’s an important question, you wanted to scream in his face. A question that I’ve been dying to ask you! A question that’s kept me from sleeping for months! A question that You should know how to answer! A question that I know my answer to!

“You feel like home, Matt.”

His smile dropped, more confusion clouding his face. “I don’t understa—”

“You feel like home. Spending time with you, feeling you kiss my forehead, hearing your squeaky laugh at four in the morning, feeling your arms around me, feels like home.” You said, your voice shaky as your eyes never left his. “That’s how I love you; you feel like home.”

It was a few moments before the realization hit him, his mouth opening just slightly and the apples of his cheeks dusting pink.

“Oh.” He whispered, his eyes dropping to the mattress. Your heart sank, a dull, aching pain flowing through your veins as you stood up.

“But that’s okay.” You said, the tears you refused to let fall blurring your vision as you smiled through the gut wrenching grief and shook your head. “I shouldn’t have assumed, right? It’s not like you ever asked me out, you know? I’m gonna head out, okay? Okay.” You said, holding back the pained whine as you sniffled and rushed for the door.

“Wait—”

You didn’t stop, practically sprinting from his room and down the stairs, grabbing your keys off of the table on your way out. You barely acknowledged Chris’ sleeping form on the couch as you descended the stairs, needing to get to your car before the dam broke and you lost any control over this situation you had left. It took ages to get the keys into the ignition, your hand shaking violently as you finally turned over the engine, threw the car in drive, and left.

Tears streamed down your face, a sob wracking your body to the point where you needed to pull over until you calmed down. How could this hurt so much? You already knew he didn’t feel the same, so why were you crying? He never talked about his feelings towards you in any way but platonic, so why did this hurt so badly? He’s just a guy who gave you some attention, so why did you love him?

tags: @strniolo , @ssturniolo , @thetriplets3 , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @dwntwn-strnlo , @tylerscreat0r , @toyourloves , @lvrsparadise , @angelcake-222 , @20nugs , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @jellybeanbby , @idontexistman , @emssturniolo , @soursturniolo , @floofparker , @recklesssturniolo

[shirakow]

˗ˏˋ꒰ synopsis ꒱ ; you accidentally summoned a demon , and he can't leave without doing something for you: either kill someone, or... Fuck you.

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍇 pair ⋅ ˚✮ ; Devil!Rody Lamoree x FTM!Reader .

. . . words ; 3.5k+

EXTRA ! porn with plot , also request box is open for people who want more studio investigrave related fics !

Summoning demons wasn't really in your bucket list for this year, but somehow, you were pushed to the breaking point. You never thought they'd go this far for an april fools prank.

Sure you've always known they held a small hate for you—actually, small was a bit of an understatement but it's whatever, your anger was far deeper than the dislike they had for you anyway—but you never thought they'd decide to bring you to an abandoned warehouse, topped with a summoning circle drawn on the ground with what you hoped was ketchup, and proceeded to leave.

You never took them for the cultist types, then again, they always did sacrifice you on multiple occasions (those sacrifices being leaving you to take the blame while they ran from the cops for trespassing on private property and a bunch of other things).

A sigh escaped past your lips as you recalled all the times they've done you wrong, and decided that once you're out of this place, you're dropping them for good. "I'm going home." You whispered as you stared at the red pentagram on the dirty cement floor, decorated with a lit candle on each end of the star. You then proceeded to turn around and jumped out of your skin when a rat appeared in front of you.

You gasped and stumbled backwards, only to trip over a stick that was conveniently placed right behind your heel, and fell back on the ground; laying inside the pentagram your friends had drawn. A loud groan erupted from your throat as you tried to scramble away from the rat—which had long since disappeared—and accidentally cut yourself on the broken cement.

With a hiss, you looked at your finger and watched as a trickle of blood dripped down onto the floor. You sighed and wiped it away on your shirt while you stood up, "Fuck this, fuck them—" you were gonna run to their house, and slap every single one of their fucking faces.

As the thought passed through your head, a sudden gust of wind blew through you, and the once lit candles were put out. You paused and looked around you with unease. It was creepy enough that you were alone in an abandoned building, but to have a large gust of wind blow through your body in a confined space was even creepier. You gulped thickly and backed away, trying to reach for your phone in your pocket when you suddenly felt something breathing down your neck.

Your eyes widened, and your body immediately shut down. Not even a few seconds later, a loud growl eminated from the creature behind you, and then a whisper, "... You gonna move off my foot or what?" You practically screamed and instinctively ran forward— and let me tell you, it was a real bad idea, because you Immediately hit a wall.

The creature—which you assumed was a demon or a squatter or a fucking werewolf—whistled as it watched you fall back on the ground. "That's gotta hurt..." You groaned and covered your face, "No shit it hurt!" You yelled at it, and reached for your phone in your pocket and turned the flashlight on.

Only to be faced with a tan man with hair a dirty orange, and curious green eyes that stared down at you while you kept laying on the floor. You dropped your phone on your face in shock. But the one thing that stood out about him were the pair of black horns that sat on his head. "You've gotta stop doing that."

"What? Is being scared a weird reaction now, dipshit?!" You yelled as you rubbed your nose. The demon raised his hands in a surrendering motion, "Says the human who summoned me." He defended himself in a nonchalant demeanor. You sat up and scrunched your face at him, "I did not summon you. I didn't even think the pentagram worked."

"It's a pentagram, how would it not work." He rose a brow while his tail swung around, "It's not like it was made of ketchup or anything." You couldn't bring yourself to tell him that you did think it was made out of ketchup. He'd probably laugh at you. Instead, you eyed him up and down with the light you had, before you spoke, "So... You gonna grant me three wishes or something?"

"I'm a demon, not a genie. The only three things I can give you is my name, age, and occupation." He murmured blankly, "So how 'bout it? I need to get paid too."

"Then give me those three things." You replied, "My name's Rody, I'm 382 years old, I think. I stopped counting after 380, and obviously I'm a demon." Rody introduced himself with a smile, almost a purr to his voice as he did. "Cool. You can go away now." You said as you shooed him away and tried to walk off, only to be stopped when he pulled you back by your shirt.

"Wait no—you can't just leave!" Rody said with what appeared to be a small pout, "Demons like me just can't go away without fulfilling a certain job for the human who summoned them. So it's either you ask me to kill someone for you, or..." He trailed off and blushed at the thought. "... You use me for your own p-pleasure..."

You stared at him blankly as he fumbled with his black vest, "What are you? Some teenage boy?" he took offense to this and immediately shook his head, "I am not a teenage boy!"

"And I am not asking you to do any of that." You mumbled and tried to walk away again, "Just lie and say you did one of the two—" "—well I can't! You know they're always watching me!"

Rody was practically begging as he clung to you. He sure was putting the title of a demon to shame. "I'm not lying to you, I swear. As much as I don't want to be here..." Rody trailed off, like even he didn't believe his last words. "Well, it's been a while since I've been out in the field so it was kinda lonely waiting in my apartment but that's besides the point!" He ranted unintentionally, before he shook his head.

Rody noticed the way you stared at him, and he cleared his throat to compose himself. "Just, ask me for anything." He said more seriously as he let you go.

You thought about it, and sighed. "Fine. But I'm not asking you to kill anyone." You murmured and looked down at the floor. As tempting as it sounds, you weren't gonna just tell him to kill your friends. It was silent, as if Rody was waiting for you to initiate something. At least he was willing to wait for your move.

You then got an idea, "Do demons like blood?" You asked him, looking back up into his green eyes. Rody rose a brow before he nodded, "I guess, especially if it's their summoners blood." He whispered, not sure where this is going. "Do they go insane with just a simple whiff?" You questioned once more, and before he could even get an answer out, you rose your sliced finger in front of his face.

Rody's eyes widened, "W-What are you doing?" He hesitantly asked as he split glances between your finger and your face. "What does it look like I'm doing? How long has it been since you've tasted human blood?" A red glint flashed over Rody's eyes as he leant forward, and took your wrist into his calloused hands. "... Too long..." He whispered and gently kissed your skin, before licking the blood with a groan.

"... I feel so dirty... Licking your dried up blood like this..." Rody gazed back down at you with lidded eyes, "I'm not that much of a savage." He muttered as he kissed your lips. His hands immediately finding their way onto your hips and he pulled your body closer to his bigger one, "You don't mind I just..." Rody whispered against the kiss, using his sharp canines to bite down onto your bottom lip—enough to draw blood as he closed his mouth on the wound and sucked on the red liquid.

You hissed at the slight pain that he inflicted onto you. Noticing your reaction, Rody pulled away and pecked your bruised lip, "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it..." He whined and kissed down your chin, "Forgive me?" Rody's hands traveled under your shirt to caress your skin underneath. You gasped, feeling the rough pads of his fingers rubbing your hardening nipples. Rody trailed his lips down to the side of your neck, gently nibbling on the skin.

You felt yourself get pushed back against the wall while his knee moved to go in between your legs. Rody pressed himself closer to you, letting his thigh rub against your core. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle with you..." He cooed into your ear, "Pretty boy..." Rody praised as he suddenly pinched your nipples. You bit your bottom lip to stifle your moans, too embarrassed to let anything out.

But Rody wasn't having any of it. "Let me hear you." He said blankly, and before you knew it, his hand was inside your pants, already thumbing at your engorged clit. "Come on, pretty boy... I'll make you feel so good... Just let me hear your voice..." Rody encouraged you in his velvety smooth voice.

You threw your head back as an unexpected moan slipped past your lips, and a grin spread across Rody's face. "Atta boy, keep going." He removed his hand away from your chest and started to undo your pants, pulling them down to pool on your feet along with your underwear.

Rody took his time to admire you and your sopping cunt that was just begging for his attention. With a quick lick to his lips, he sunk down to his knees in front of you, and placed both his hands onto your thighs to keep them open for him. "Haven't tasted a sweet thing like this in a while..." He whispered in awe, "300 years ago, I'm guessing?" You quipped with a breathless chuckle.

Rody furrowed his brows and slapped your pussy, which made you whine, "If you're mouth's able to retort, then I'm guessing it can moan too." He grumbled as he then buried his face into your cunt. Your eyes widened, immediately reaching down to grab a fistful of his hair as he licked a stripe up your vulva.

You felt Rody close his lips around your throbbing clit harshly sucking and licking it. Your thighs shook, begging to close and push Rody away from the stimulation, but his strong hold prevented that. Rody placed his knee on your pants— the only thing that served as restraints for your ankles— and removed his hand from your thigh to gently tease your hole by circling around it with his fingers.

You whined, practically begging him to push it in, and when he did, a loud moan erupted from your kiss swollen lips. Rody chuckled against your heat, and sucked on your clit, the sounds of your wetness against his tongue making you cringe. Rody pumped his fingers in and out your pussy, curling and hitting all the right places in just the perfect angle.

Rody inserted another finger, his thick digits rubbing your gummy walls as he harshly finger fucked your pussy. "So lewd...~ Your pussies so wet, it's practically dripping down my hand..." He teased, and pulled his mouth away from your clit, instead using his other hand to swish his fingers side to side on the engorged bud. The sensation made you squeal, desperately trying to close your thighs around his hands but he stopped you.

"Whoa there, keep them open." Rody furrowed his briws and fingered your pussy faster. Tears rolled down your cheek from the pleasure, a small whimper sounding from you as you pulled Rody closer to your cunt. Without a second thought, Rody went back to licking your clit, wanting to overstimulate your senses until all that was left of you is a crying and moaning mess.

He thrusted his fingers even quicker at this, "Look at you... I haven't even fucked you yet and you're already crying..." He cooed, his hands tightening around your thigh as he licked his lips. You blushed at his words and immediately covered your mouth, getting too flustered by his teasing. You were getting so close, and it was driving you insane—a heat started to pool at the pit of your stomach, stating your impending release.

Rody grunted and suddenly pulled his fingers out—slapping your clit harshly. Your eyes widened as you let out a slutty moan, and before you knew it, you squirted all over him. Your thighs shook from how hard you came, your whole body turning to putty in his hold as more tears escaped from your eyes. With a cry, you glanced back down at Rody, only to see him staring up at you with the same shocked expresson on his face.

"Did you just cum from having your pussy slapped?" He asked, a small grin forming on his face. You sniffled and looked away in embarrassment, "N-No..." Rody chuckled and leant forward to kiss your cunt softly as a small apology for slapping it, "It was kinda hot, don't worry sweet boy." He praised and rose to his feet.

"Think you're ready for me?" Rody asked as he kissed your lips gently. You gave him a slow nod, and he smiled, "Alright." He undid his pants and belt, along with his underwear and let them pool on his feet. Rody was now half naked in front of you, his impressive size standing tall. It was probably the biggest cock you've ever seen. Probably the only cock you've ever seen, rather.

He placed his hands under your thighs and lifted you off the ground. Making sure to let your pants and shoes fall to the floor first so that you could wrap your legs around his waist, "Just tell me if it hurts and I'll stop, okay?" Rody reassured you, and your eyes widened. You placed a hand on his chest, "W-Wait, that's it? You're just going in with no protection?"

He paused and stared at you blankly, "Babe, I'm a demon, not a prostitute. I didn't know I was gonna end up fucking someone today, of course I don't have a condom." Rody said in a monotone voice, as if it was already common sense. "If you're that worried, I can pull out... Don't worry." He whispered and pecked your lips.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and gulped, "O-Okay..." You nodded. Rody positioned himself against your hole, rubbing the tip against the lips and smeared the precum all over your pussy. "Fuck, you're even wetter than before..." He chuckled and gently pushed the head of his cock in.

Your hissed at the stretch, immediately tightening around Rody when he pushed more of his length in. "S-Shit, don't tighten so much! I-I can't even go any further...!" Rody panted, closing his eyes at the warmth that wrapped around his weeping dick. "Just... Breathe for me, okay?" He massaged your ass, waiting for you to relax so that he could bottom out inside you, but for now, he remained unmoving.

You steadied your breathing, holding onto him tightly, and slowly nodded. Rody took this as a sign to keep going. He noticed he wasn't even halfway in, before he decided to just fuck it—and suddenly pushed himself in fully in one go. You gasped and cried, tears forming at the corners of your eyes at the pain and pleasure that pooled at the pit of your stomach.

Rody moaned into your neck, rubbing your thighs to soothe the pain. "Fuck... I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry sweet boy... It's just that, I couldn't take it... I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you..." He kissed all over your shoulder, and slid a hand over to rub your clit in order to distract you from the pain.

You could only scratch at his back as your toes curled, "You're doing so good..." Rody whispered praises into your ear, waiting for you to adjust to his size. It was the least he could do for bottoming out harshly.

After a while, you gave Rody a nod. He put his hand back under your thigh, and slowly pulled out until only the tip was left inside, before pushing back in gently. A shudder ran down your spine at the pleasure that spread through your body.

Once he saw your positive reaction, Rody kept going at the pace he set; slow and steady. You gripped onto Rody tighter, strings of moans falling from your tongue as he kept thrusting. One particular thrust hit your g-spot head on, and Rody adjusted his angle so that he could hit it everytime. "You're so tight... So perfect for my cock..." He grunted into your ear, gripping your thighs tighter as he pulled all the way out and gave a harsh thrust into your sopping pussy.

You threw your head back and cried, tears rolling down your flushed cheeks. Rody's wings flexed behind him at the pleasure, his own moans and groans stringing out from his mouth. "S-Shit...! N-Need to change your position..." Rody suddenly pulled out your heat, and put your feet down the ground. He turnt you around, and pulled your ass back against him and positioned himself once more, before he thrusted all the way in and continued his harsh thrusts.

Your tongue lolled out as you clawed at the walls. "R-Rody...!~" You squealed and looked down at your stomach, seeing a visible bump that formed whenever he thrusted into your tight cunt. Your eyes grew cloudy from the tears, and you reached down to press on the bump, finding pleasure in knowing he was so deep inside you.

You heard Rody laugh from behind you, "What? You like how I'm so deep inside your pussy?" He asked as he spanked you which made you sob, "Fuck, I love this pretty hole of yours..." Rody groaned and fucked you faster. He leant forward, pressing his chest against your back as he kissed your shoulder. Rody reached down and started rubbing your clit in timed with his thrusts, which caused you to shriek and shake your head. "N-No..! It's too much...!" You cried and babbled, your head turning into mush the more he fucked you stupid.

Rody pulled and rubbed your clit faster at your words, "You're close... Right? I'm close too..." He groaned, whimpering as he reached out to place his hand over your own against the wall. You panted like a bitch in heat, and sobbed, "R-Rody... C-Cum in me...! Please!~" You begged, unable to think straight anymore from the way Rody was bullying his cock into your cunt.

You were reduced into nothing but a toy for Rody's pleasure. Rody's eyes widened at this, and his thrusts faltered for a second, but you shook your head and let out strings of insistent 'no's. "P-Please keep going, keep going...!~" You pleaded. He was hesitant, but the way you were looking and begging... It was too much.

Rody groaned and pulled back, pushing your cheek against the wall with his hand, and fucked your cunt faster. His balls slapping against your pretty pussy lips, "You asked for this... Not me...!" He moaned loudly, feeling himself come closer to the edge.

Rody's thrusts grew more desperate and sloppy, before he gave one last thrust, and came inside you. You came right after him—squirting all over his fat cock. You drooled all over the wall as you closed your eyes from how hard you came. Rody panted and chuckled breathlessly as he stared at you, "You did so good..." He whispered and turned your head so that he could kiss you.

You tiredly reciprocated, whining when you felt your shared release dripping down your thighs. Rody pulled away and rubbed your sides, "You'll give me a five star

review right?" He grinned. You rolled your eyes and pushed his face away, "Is there even an app for this shit?" He pouted and nodded.

"Yeah, there is. It's called deviliscious."

"You're lying."

"Okay, yeah, I am."

"Just pull out you asshole."

@ shirakow ; Reblogs are always appreciated <3 it's like 5 am as I'm editing this and I haven't gotten any sleep .

ㅤ

[thatsdemko]

welcome to the club - c.sainz

part 1: pining series

pining series masterlist

warnings: news article + plot is slow

a/n: WELCOME TO THE FIRST OFFICIAL PART! this part is a lil slow I apologize! It’s all about the introduction of the plot! I promise the next part(which is finished and being edited) has more to it!

—

the black and white paper scatters the grounds of the paddock that you walk through. the familiar 28 year old Spaniards face from the Silverstone win covers the paper, with the words you read this morning from the comfort of your living room.

single. he, who was with his lovely girlfriend of seven years, called it quits, as of nearly a month ago. it shocked you, when all of the 2022 season you watched her care and heal his wounds of the hatred and support him when nobody else would. you watched their love grow stronger, and somehow it snapped.

the lovely women who once stood beside you in the Ferrari garages were now filled with unfamiliar faces and the occasional family members from time to time. but this one came as a shock to you.

“good morning, cherie.” the familiar accent that you’ve come to love enters your ears, a smile forming your lips, you turn to see Charles and Pierre with bright smiles sporting their team wear.

“good morning, boys.” your eyes scan their table. the black and white paper is being held by their water bottles, and the plates in front of them hold nothing but crumbs of a possible sandwich. the one thing you grew to learn about Charles, was wherever he was, Pierre was close by. and today it was near all the scattered papers for their convenience.

“you see the news?” Pierre lifts the paper up off the table, that same winning smile enters your vision from this morning, except the picture is not colorized and there’s noticeable water marks on the edges.

“of course I did, it’ll be the talk of today.” you sigh, media duties won’t be pleasant, and you’re sure Carlos will be a grumbling angry mess to deal with. and as always, you’re assigned to him when he’s that way, nobody else can fathom to deal with an angry Carlos.

“do you think he’s seen it?”

“seen what?” the Spaniard approaches from behind you, he grabs the paper out of Pierre’s hand and begins to read while you all study his expressions. you’re waiting for an outburst or some sort of reaction that confirms, or denies, the drama, but you get nothing. instead, he just hands the paper back and leaves. which maybe gives you the answers you were all waiting for.

“he’s not happy.” Charles mumbles shaking his head. there was no way to avoid it, their private lives were, somehow all people cared about, and sometimes the words and curiosity is what kills the most.

“he won’t be all day.”

—

“you did it. media is over.” you toss him his phone, that had been lighting up in your hand all afternoon.

he catches the device and instantly regrets flipping it over to see the millions of notifications from not only family members, but friends. they all ask the same thing, “what do you mean you guys broke up?”

to Carlos, it was pretty evident the relationship wasn’t going anywhere, and to the public eye, it seemed they were just keep things private like they always did. but with after party events still being in the talks, Carlos’ appearance with another girl stirred a riot, and his publicist forced him to confirm his new status.

“do you want to talk about it?” you lean against the doorframe of his drivers room, watching those big brown eyes flicker up from his phone. the beautiful thick lashes glow in the screens brightness, “what’s to talk about? we broke up.”

“I meant more about the newspaper.” you say watching his lips form into an ‘o’, head sinking down into his hands for a moment, “I guess it wasn’t that obvious to everyone we were broken up.”

you snort a laugh, watching his head lift from his hands, body leaning against the white wall, “there’s not much to say, but it’s all true. I am single.”

you nod, pushing your body off of the doorframe, “welcome to the singles club, it sucks.” you’re unsure to laugh or sigh, but both come out of your lips, and he does the same, nose scrunching lines by his eyes crinkling.

“at least I’m not alone in this club.”

tags: @arian-directioner @alilstressyandlotdepressy @ak0ma @ruebennett89 @mochimommy2002 @flyingmushroomss @icarus-nex @solo-pitstop-vibes @xjval @chimchimjiminie16 @bookophiliac

want to be tagged for the next part? don’t be shy to let me know🥰

[ghost-proofbaby]

EDDIE MUNSON - OURS

😭😭😭

ours (eddie’s version)

warnings: none. just tooth-rotting fluff &lt;3

wc: 1.4k+

a/n: i got a little carried away. but i wish i had an eddie munson to go home to each night and just kiss and cuddle goddamn it

“Oh, is that your boyfriend?”

“He’s… interesting.”

“I guess when you said you had a boyfriend, I never envisioned someone like him.”

“You two are such… opposites! I mean- no! No, not a… bad thing, I suppose. Just… interesting.”

You were growing tired of it. You know people didn’t mean for their incessant questions or comments to get under your skin so badly, but they did. Any time someone at your new job caught sight of your phone’s lock screen – a joyous selfie of you and a sunburnt Eddie at the lake – or your work computer’s screen saver – a photo taken at dusk of Eddie on your couch, strumming on his guitar completely unaware – they had something to say. Something to point out. Whether it be the way you two didn’t seem to fit in their minds, or how rough around the edges he seemed to be. Some coworkers even pressed on how long you two had been together, pulling out the marriage card at a completely inappropriate time. One coworker had even made a snide remark on his long hair, saying “oh, I thought that was a girl! What a relief!”. It just…. It dug beneath your skin every time without fail, making you uncomfortable and irritated all in the same breath. 

You don’t understand why they cared so much. It wasn’t their relationship – they didn’t know you. You’d only started the job a few months prior. They could eat shit, for all you care.

Today had been a bad day. Maurice, one of the elderly women who worked at the front reception desk, had just been awful. She was always talking of you going on a date with her grandson, each time conveniently forgetting that you were already happily in a relationship, but today she’d crossed a line. She’d had her grandson physically come into the office at lunch time, and caught you just as you were on your way out the door to try and pick up something to hold you over until five o’clock would finally arrive. 

The one day you didn’t pack your own lunch. Go figure. 

“Oh! Dear! Over here!” she called  to you as you tried to scurry past her desk. You had held out the hope that the young man standing beside her would have occupied her, but no. No such luck for you on this wicked Thursday.

You took a deep breath before you turned slowly, forcing a polite smile as you faced the elderly woman, “What can I do for you, Maurice?”

“This is my grandson!” she animatedly motioned to the blonde boy at her side, and as he looked up, your stomach dropped, “Jason! The one I was telling you about!” 

Jason fucking Carver.

“Oh,” you tried to keep kind in your tone, but you were already feeling hatred prickle at the back of your neck. You knew all about Jason — he’d made Eddie’s life living Hell too many times to count. He was nothing like the angel Maurice had tried to paint, “I… It’s nice to meet you, Jason, but I really should get going. I’m on my lunch.” 

Jason didn’t take the social cue, stepping forward and stretching out his hand towards you, “Pleasure to finally meet the beautiful coworker my grandmother has been going on and on about. Words really didn’t do you justice.”

Gag. “You’re too kind. I do hope she also mentioned I’m already spoken for.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up, glancing at Maurice for a second. “You’re taken?” 

You opened your mouth to say, yes, I am happily taken, but Maurice was already waving her hands about as if that fact of the matter was nothing more than trivial smoke. “Technicalities. She has a fling with that Munson boy-“

“It’s not a fling,” you stressed, your patience meeting its end, “We’ve been together for years. We live together. I’m really sorry, Jacob,” you purposefully say the wrong name as you turn to Jason, exasperated and not sorry in the slightest, “But I’m not interested. I’ll see you after lunch, Maurice.” 

You think you heard Jason call out a correction of his name from behind you, but you paid him no mind. Fuck him.

You ended up taking a longer lunch, not even caring for the consequences just so you could sit in your car and call Eddie. You described each person who walked into the building that you caught sight of, completely forgetting to scavenge a snack, too wrapped up in giggling at every ridiculous joke or story he makes up for the strangers.

He made it feel better. Maurice and Jason and everyone’s incessant comments forgotten. Their judgments never took this into consideration — this tranquility and Eddie’s ability to make you laugh until your ribs ached. They never considered the love that carried you home each night.

Five o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

You practically speed the entire way home, forgetting to watch for any police cars half the time. Your poor front door cries out on its hinges as you barrel through it with only one thing on your mind: Eddie.

“Hey baby-“ Eddie tries to greet you, but he hardly has the time to set his guitar to the side before you’re falling into his lap where he sits on the couch. “Oof, bad day?” 

Your thighs bracket his hips and your nose is already nuzzling into his neck, his soft laughter shaking his shoulders slightly as your arms wind themselves around him to the best of your abilities. He returns the favor without hesitation; arms hold you close to his chest and you can feel his nose dip to graze along your temple.

“The absolute worst,” your voice is muffled by his neck, but he doesn’t seem to mind, so you continue, “I swear to God, if I had know this office was full of such judgmental assholes I would have never-“

“Woah, woah, woah,” he pulls you back slightly, bringing his hands up to hold both cheeks between his palms as his thumb trails softly against your cheek bone, “Are they being mean to you? Because if they are, just say the word – I’m not afraid to kick a couple of grandmas’ asses.” 

You laugh, sniffling a bit, still on the verge of tears out of relief of being home with him finally, “No, no. You don’t need to go and kick any elderly ass – today.” 

“What about tomorrow?” 

You pretend to think about it as you finally slide off his lap, sitting to his side as your legs remain draped on his lap. He’s quick to reach down and let his calloused fingertips graze a trail down your thigh, ending at your ankle before he wraps them around it and squeezes softly, “Hmm, I’ll have to think about it.”

“Yeah?” he questions, leaning his face down to your shoulder, peppering kisses there, eyes still attempting to glance up at you in adoration through thick lashes, “So not a no. Got it. I’ll have my boxing gloves at the ready.” 

You both laugh as Eddie continues his short assault of kisses. 

Your coworkers can say whatever they want. They can judge the two of you based on short snapshots all they please – they can’t take this from you. Not as his lips brush your collarbones, not as his palms massage your calves, and certainly not as he murmurs soft declarations of how much he missed you all day against your skin. 

“Say, you wanna play a song for me on that guitar, rockstar?” you say as you thread your fingers through his curls, noting the way they’re extra soft, as if he’d done a hair mask like you always pestered him to. 

He lifts his head and leans back casually against the back of the couch, eyes half-lidded as he smiles at you like you hold his entire world in the palm of your hand, “Maybe later. Right now, I just wanna spend some time with my baby.” 

“Oh, I see,” you snort, “You’re gonna break out sweetheart instead? No more dragon-slaying for today?” you joke, referencing his nicknames for his two guitars. 

He only shakes his head and rolls his eyes at you, surging forward and capturing your lips against his, teeth clashing a bit due to both of your wild grins. He has you falling backwards into the couch cushions in an instant and lets his weight settle between your thighs, enveloping you in smells of home. Just him, just you, just the love that you two have gardened here. No opinions of others ever needed.

“Shut up. I love you.” 

“and it’s not theirs to speculate if it’s wrong. and your hand’s a tough but they are where mine belong.”

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

It was only supposed to be a one-night stand (Part 1)

TW: suicide attempt, mentions of self harm, smut (kinda), yandere shenanigans

okay i mayyy have made this after like seeing a bunch of hot construction workers around my campus doing tinkering and shit and my saviour complex is also kinda flaring up too

and also this is my first ever cringefail yandere, he's not rich and he barely has connections and mans was suicidal

enjouy

Part 2

Everyone doesn't know why you didn't just block him, call the cops on him, or just... anything! You don't either.

This man has been following you around for months now. Leaving you flowers on your office desk, dropping parcels of gifts in front of your door, and visiting your workplace to give you boxes of freshly made takeout.

He's not much of a talker. Maybe it's because he can't exactly speak English well. But that was the only language he had ever spoken or written in before, as far as you know.

He's definitely intimidating everyone around you. Standing at an imposing height of what you think is 6'5, his back alone is usually enough to block the sun from your eyes. With his shaggy, brown hair covering his eyes, unkempt stubble covering his face and scruffy clothes; he usually wears an olive green shirt under his very worn chore jacket and a pair of shabby khaki pants. The man wears a pair of mildly tattered combat boots. He isn't ugly, perse, but he definitely isn't the standard of beauty in society. Your stalker has this rugged and disheveled vibe to him that some may like and most look down upon.

You think he's homeless, living in his beaten car and going to public gyms to shower. You've never seen him eating something he cooked himself, it's either he's eating something out of a styrofoam box, or a package good from convenience stores.

But he isn't unemployed. You know he is a construction worker, you caught him many times staring at you longingly as you hasten your pace, fleeing the soon-to-be shopping complex near your office. He was carrying a heavy set of wooden planks on his shoulder effortlessly, the stranger wiped his sweat using the back of his hand before adjusting his hard hat.

You didn't know that he worked in this field when you first met him. You always had a good heart... or at least a heart that simply cannot handle bystander guilt.

You were walking towards the subway one day, and it was late because you agreed to work overtime. The sky was pitch black, and the only thing that illuminated the path ahead was the lamps swarmed by millions of moths.

Entering the tunnel, there were only a few people around; either waiting for the train, for someone, or for a miracle. Regardless of what they're there for, they're all occupied in their own little world.

You were about to be immersed in the world of social media too, but your blasted phone died. So you're forced to stand in silence and become aware of your surroundings, nothing to numb yourself from the daily mundaneness.

And it was this awareness that led you to notice the man in the first place. You were guarded, taking a few steps away from him as he seemed extremely intoxicated. He was swaying and stumbling, in his calloused hand, held a brown glass bottle with liquid sloshing in it. The man was mumbling something, but it was too soft and incoherent for you to hear. He kept wiping his face using the back of his knuckles.

He, just like everyone else except you, is in his own personal hell too. He spared no attention for you or anything else except his own drunken stupor, so you deem it relatively safe to watch him from where you're standing. The stranger is your only source of entertainment at the moment anyway, the train is coming soon, so why not watch him for a bit more and laugh at him internally for being at his lowest? Certainly, it would never happen to you.

You were snapped out of your own thoughts when you saw him going dangerously close to the ledge, crossing over the yellow line. At the same time, the sounds of wind rushing and rumbling reached your ears, if he falls onto the rails, he will definitely be done for. You looked behind your shoulder and saw bright lights coming from one end of the tunnel, calculating that you only have a couple seconds to make your decision.

You shouted for his attention, catching it and a few others around you. He stared at you with bloodshot, glassy eyes. However, he lost his footing and was about to fall to his ultimate demise.

The adrenaline rush amplified by the roar of the train wheels made you propel your feet toward him. You stretched your arm, grabbed him by the back of his jacket, and yanked him out of the danger zone with all your might. It definitely wasn't easy to move this hunky mass at all, but you did. And you saved him just at the nick of time, as the train rushed by, blasting a gust of wind against the two of you.

You must have underestimated your strength because he was flung back at high speeds. He grabbed your arm by instinct, trying to re-balance himself, and brought you down to the grimy subway floor with him.

You groan as you rush to sit up, cradling the arm that made contact with the ground. Scowling at the stranger for pulling such a stupid stunt in his inebriated state, upset that now you had a few pairs of judging eyes on you. You froze when you saw his eyes though, a unique glimmer made its way to his dark irises. His mouth is slightly ajar, he is staring at you with such intense reverence and adoration which you mistake as a mere alcoholic's intoxicated stare.

You screeched when he suddenly emptied the contents of his stomach on your work blouse. Shouting angry curses at him as his head was slumped to the ground and his eyelids shut.

You got up and tried to swipe as much puke away from you as you ran to the train. The last you saw him that night was in an extremely pathetic state, unconscious in his own puddle of vomit, a bottle of booze rolling away from him. People either crossed over him or walked over his body, sparing a few glances of pity or contempt before boarding the train themselves.

You thought that you were never going to see him again, with that much alcohol in his system, you would be surprised that he could even remember his own name. And you couldn't be more wrong.

A few days after that, you were in the same station, taking the same train because your boss needed you to finish the report by that day. This time, you're exhausted. Not sleeping, eating or enjoying your hobbies puts a toll on your energy levels, what a surprise.

You were nodding off in the train, struggling to keep yourself awake.

Maybe if you let yourself doze off, you'll wake up just in time for your stop. And so, you did, you let yourself drift into slumberland.

It was a mistake.

You were harshly woken up with a torch shining in your eyes and a booming voice telling you that the both of you have to leave, as this is the last stop. Lifting your head from a headrest, which actually was someone's broad shoulder. But you didn't realize that.

You were still half asleep, groggily and hastily gathering your things, not registering that the employee was also referring to another person in your proximity.

You muttered a small good night to the staff before exiting the train, yawning and stretching. Smacking your lips as you realized that your briefcase wasn't with you, must've left it back on your seat. So you turned around and walked forwards, only to ram yourself onto what you thought was an oddly shaped pillar. Cussing under your breath as you stumbled backwards, rubbing your head.

You let out a shocked yelp when you realized that it's the man instead. You were about to say something to him but your eyes landed on his side; he was holding the suitcase for you.

You stammered a quick thank you as you snatched it away from him, picking up the pace as you walked away. Howeever, you heard footfalls behind you.

Looking over your shoulder, you saw him following closely behind.

Perhaps he is also looking for an exit, so you silently lead the way to the nearest opening. But as you walk, you start to wonder; did he purposely stayed on the train with you? If he had to go somewhere he would have gotten off by then, if this was his stop, he would have left before the lights went out.

Finally, having to breath in fresh air once you exit the dusty station, you turned to look at him. Trying to discern which way is he heading.

He isn't moving. The man stood next to your side, staring straight ahead. As if he's waiting for you to take another step. After a few more seconds of idling, he turned his gaze to you.

Understandably being creeped out by this, you told him not to follow you. He blinked a couple times before continuing to stare.

Sighing, you asked him if he is lost. And you got no response.

You asked him if he is stupid. And you got no response.

Not giving a shit anymore, you picked a direction and walked. It's a long walk home and there will not be any trains left until the sun rises. As expected, he followed you all the way.

He is useful in warding off midnight catcallers and other seedy individuals that hang around alleys and empty streets. Who wouldn't be wary of him? He looks like he could easily pick them up by the scruff and fling them to the rooftops. But that means he could do that to you too, and that isn't comforting to know at all.

You reached home after an hour and a half of walking. The man is still on your trail, crowding you around the door as you unlocked it. You opened the door and immediately slipped in, he tried entering as well but you slammed it against his face. He watches you lock and latch your door through the window, he placed his hand on the glass and clawed at it a bit. You simply drew the curtains shut, praying hard that he isn't going to be there by sunrise.

Your prayers wasn't answered because you decided to check up on him an hour later. You saw him laying on the porch with his eyes closed and that tugged at your heartstrings a bit.

Maybe it's the sleep deprivation that is lowering your inhibitions, or you're just lonely and he doesn't look half bad. It could also be the cold one you cracked open that's screwing up with your soberness. Either way, you would have given yourself shit for opening the door and letting him in your house while the world is still asleep. If you get murdered, at least you won't need to go to work next week.

It was a blur, you remembered bits and pieces of his hands roaming your bare back, his cock impaling into you as he sloppily kissed you from the jaw to your neck. How his rough fingers fondled your genitals and how you were gripping your bedsheets as if your life depended on it.

Bouncing on him while you shoved your tongue down his throat was fun, especially when he wrapped his hand around the back of your head, preventing you from escaping him. Feeling the pleasant pressure on you as he pinned you to the firm bed. It was kind of him to shield your head with his hand from hitting the bedframe while he plows you from behind, iron gripping your hips with the other.

You remember starting it, demanding that he gives you something in exchange for staying a night here, you remembered pulling him into a deep, passionate, drunken kiss before he has a foot into the living room. You didn't give a shit about knowing his name or if he had any STDs, you just need to release a lot of frustrations.

You woke up hungover, with you being the small spoon while he held you tightly in his strong arms. They were littered in old scars, some clearly self inflicted.

You turned your head to see that he's still asleep, soft snores escaping his lips. Annoying to some.

Squinting as you let the sharp rays of light stab your eyes, you saw that your clothes and his were strewn all over the bedroom, the door wide open with a stray shoe resting next to it's hinges.

You looked at the clock and realized that you're going to be late. Being the workaholic you are, you shook the stranger in your bed awake. He was groaning and quietly whining about not wanting to get up, but shuts up as soon as you hurled his clothes at his face.

He shot up and cowered behind his arms as you continued throwing his articles of clothing at him, telling him that he has to leave because you need to go to work.

While he's composing himself, you rush to the bathroom to take a quick shower, pretending the cold stream of water is washing away all your sins from the night before. You lather up some soap before scrubbing your skin, internally beating yourself up for your irresponsible choices.

A familiar pair of arms snaked around your torso as you're pulled back into a strong chest, a pair of lips decided to flutter smooches on your temple and ear. His hands explored your naked body, utilizing the suds and the water to give you that electrically tingling sensation.

Of course, this intrusion wasn't taken lightly. You screamed and kicked him out of the shower, telling him to leave your house. You caught a glimpse of his confused and crestfallen look in his eyes, paired with his dripping wet hair and sopping wet body.

You finished your business, threw on a set of fresh clothes and rushed out of the door. And definitely dragging him out of there with you too, not giving a crap that he was in the middle of wearing his shirt.

You ran as fast as you could, wanting to catch the next train. And so did he, he chased after you and squeezed himself into the carriage.

Everyone was also rushing to work, there were no seats left nor were there any standing spots. Shoulders were bumping shoulders and the shorter passengers were at an all time disadvantage. You couldn't reach the handles; but he could.

As the door closes, the man held you close to him and rested his free hand on the small of your back. To outsiders, you and him looked like a run of the mill couple having each other. They couldn't be more wrong, you don't even know a single thing about him.

You just endured it, having no choice but to stick next to him. He yawned and frowned, looking quite displeased that he was not in your bed. Well, that's his fault, no one forced him to follow you back home, and no one forced him to stick himself inside of you.

Among the busy chatter in the train, you and him stayed silent. Gradually feeling comfortable in each other's embrace.

You mumbled curses under your breath, he knows where you live and he is going to know where you work. Couldn't this year get any worse?

As soon as the doors open, you make a mad dash out of the station. Running as fast as you could, not caring who you had to shove to clear your way.

You never looked back, but you made sure to take as many detours as possible to mess with his direction if he somehow managed to catch up to you. But your lungs and your out-of-shape-office-worker legs can only take you so far, you reach a nearby tree in a park next to your building.

You panted as you scanned your surroundings, only seeing the elderly, children, athletic adults, and their pets. No sign of that man you slept with last night.

You took a couple more minutes to catch your breath, knowing fully that your boss would chew you up for being close to an hour late. Whatever, you're here now. Let's earn your salary.

So you walked, it's just a couple minutes away. Nothing else should go wrong today-

You had an incredulous look on your face when you saw him loitering at the entrance. Your colleagues glance him up and down, some admiring the way his muscles slightly stick out of his shirt, some wondering what an unkempt hunk like him is doing in front of such a corporate, sanitized venue.

There was no way to sneak past him, you just had to face him. It was... cute that his eyes lit up as soon as he saw you. So you sighed as you marched up to him, requesting him to leave you alone as politely as you could. There was an edge to your tone, he must either be oblivious to it or he's simply choosing to ignore the fact that you're unhappy with him here.

During mid-sentence, he presented you with a paper plate that had a hotdog on it. You were speechless, it had everything on it: ketchup, mustard, relish, pickles, mayonnaise, cheese, Jalapeño slices, onions, beef chili, and other heaps of things that you couldn't identify. With the number of toppings, you couldn't tell that it was a hotdog in the first place, it was just a mountain of random savory foodstuffs. Your eyes darted to his other hand, it also had a hotdog wrapped in a napkin, except his one only had relish.

"I didn't know what you liked..." He mumbled, voice so deep that you could feel the vibrations in your own chest. The man looked at you with hope, wanting you to accept the plate of everything as breakfast.

You shook your head and said you were late to work. Pushing him away from the door before entering the building, some of the topping amalgamations spilled onto his shirt. Probably staining it forever with its oil content.

He stood there with a frown, he craned his head downwards to stare at the spill.

Then, he looked back up to see that you were out of sight. His shoulders sagged as he placed his own hotdog on top of your plate of horrors.

The man walked away as he pulled out a plastic spoon that he tucked in his pocket, it was given to him by the vendor because it is impossible to eat your order with hands.

He began digging in, throwing one last glance at the main door behind him.

[bluhourz]

when he's worried

-

If anyone saw Yeonjun right now, they would immediately see this is a stressed-out guy. By now, his hair is standing up in various directions from constantly running his hands through. His eyes were darting from side to side, and he was mumbling under his breath. He has been pacing around the living room to the front door for the last 20 minutes.

Ultimately, it was because of you. When he woke up from his nap, he realised that you weren't in the house. Your phone was also left on the kitchen counter. Which meant he had no way to reach you. This wouldn't seem like a huge problem to most people. Maybe you just went out? However, you only recently moved to South Korea and didn't quite know your way around yet. Your Korean wasn't bad, but you still struggled to understand some things. This made Yeonjun go into an instant panic. What if you got lost and didn't know how to find your way back? What if someone saw you were struggling and then decided to take advantage of you? He was busy losing his mind.

You, on the other hand, were oblivious and quite happy. You had a giddy smile on your face as you looked at your shopping bag and drank your convenience store drink, basically skipping home. You decided to walk down to the convenience store close to your apartment to buy snacks. You being you forgot your phone at home. But you managed to easily talk to the cashier, understood everything, and paid him before leaving. You felt extremely proud of yourself for being able to have that interaction and knowing the way home again, all without any help. Thus, you did not expect the reaction from your boyfriend as soon as you walked through the door.

"Junnie! Guess wh-"

Before you even realised it he was in front of you and his body slammed into yours. You staggered backwards but his arms wrapped around you, keeping you upright. You felt his head drop into the crook of your neck and he pulled you even closer, if that was possible.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you said with a soft voice.

Sensing he needed it, you dropped the plastic bag next to you and wrapped your arms around his waist. He stayed quiet for a few seconds before you felt him release a shaky breath.

"You worried me so much, you know? Don't do that ever again," his voice was stern but you could hear a slight tremble.

You kept your arms around him and leaned back to take a look at his face. His hands found their way up to your neck and face as he held you carefully. His eyes quickly scanned over you as if to check if you were really okay.

"I won't. But can you tell me what it is that I can't do?" you said keeping your eyes on his and studied the frown on his face.

"Where did you go? You left your phone here. And when I woke up you were just gone. I was worried about you."

As you realised how he must have felt you started feeling bad. Trying to hide your guilty face you hugged him again and put your head on his chest. His arms automatically wrapped around your shoulders.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, "I didn't mean to scare you. You don't have many opportunities for naps so I didn't want to bother you."

"Where did you go?" he asked again, this time with less anxiety in his voice.

"I went to the convenience store," you dared to look up at his face, "I was hungry."

At first Yeonjun looked at you in confusion. He was worried while you were out buying food? Realising he overreacted, he relaxed and let out a low laugh, "And you managed to find it without your phone?"

"And I talked to the cashier in Korean without making mistakes. Aren't you proud of me?" you had a cheeky smile on your face.

"I'm so proud of you, baby," he said, patting your head with a small smile on his face.

"Now, do you want to see what I got for us?"

Yeonjun nodded as he let you go. You picked up the bag and excitedly walked to the kitchen rambling away about why you chose each item. He could only laugh and shake his head at your antics. He loved you so much, but damn you made him stress out sometimes.

[dollysilena]

TRAINING WHEELS

CHAPTER ONE | DEJA VU

ao3 | series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

five years ago, you stupidly had a fling with inarizaki athlete, miya atsumu– now, present day– he had a son he knew nothing about. you made sure it was going to stay that way, but as fate would have it, he unexpectedly stumbled back into your lives, now as volleyball’s biggest star.

wc & notes: 3.1k — guest star osamu? 🫢

FIVE YEARS AGO — HYOGO PREFECTURE

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You muttered as you impatiently sat on the toilet of the convenience store bathroom. You chewed on your nails as your leg shook anxiously enough to practically make your whole body vibrate. This had to have been the longest three minutes of your life, even longer when you hid with Atsumu from that damn first-year that intruded into the bathroom. God, you should have taken that as a sign to stop your hormone-frenzied self.

If you could go back in time, you never would’ve hooked up with Miya Atsumu in that stupid bathroom stall a month ago. In fact, you would’ve sworn a life of celibacy from that point on if you knew that you would end up here. No sex before marriage, and all that. But it was too late for regret, especially when your period was well over a week late. You silently prayed this was all just some twisted joke.

Your phone alarm went off, indicating the three minutes were up and it promptly ended your little prayer. Your heart caught in your throat at the realization that you were going to have to look at the pregnancy test resting on your lap like a ten-ton weight. There was no way it was going to be positive, you argued with yourself. You were on the pill, you were pretty responsible minus for that impulsive moment with Atsumu (if you could call it that), and you were too young to be having a baby. It was impossible, right?

You shakily inhaled. It was going to be false. It was going to be false and all of this would be something you could laugh at later down the road. All this would just be a silly mistake and you would learn your lesson for it. You repeated the mantra to yourself as you shakily held up the pink stick in your hand. False. False.

Two lines. Positive.

The small dingy bathroom was quickly filled with the sounds of your sobs.

PRESENT DAY — OSAKA, JAPAN

Miya Osamu had seen his fair share of customers. From the normal regulars, the die-hard MSBY fangirls trying to catch a glimpse of Atsumu whenever he stopped in from lunch, and to the old woman who once tried to whack him with her purse when her free onigiri coupon expired. It was safe to say he was well acquainted with most of the patrons who came inside his humble restaurant. (Humble being one of the most popular restaurants in Osaka, that is.)

Osamu was working a normal shift at the front, a Tuesday afternoon with not much to worry about besides the to-go orders and the day to day business. Some days were like this, plain and simple. He was glad it didn’t seem too busy that day, maybe he could close early since the dinner rush had ended earlier than he thought. Deciding to have a short day was one of the perks of being the owner, afterall. He was organizing the display case of ready-made onigiri when the front door opened with a bell ring.

“Hello, welcome to Onigiri Miya,” he greeted. The woman who entered gave him a polite nod and wave before attending to the child beside her. She brought him up to the display case where she read off a few flavors for the young boy to pick from. Osamu furrowed his eyebrows, he recognized you. 

He hadn’t seen you before though, he thought. You were wearing a business-like outfit, indicating you probably were at work beforehand and probably just coming in for some dinner before heading home. He usually remembered most faces who came in here, especially his office-working customers since they frequented the restaurant during their lunches, or at the end of shift dinners. But he couldn’t quite recall you. It was odd though, he felt like he knew you from somewhere. Granted, he would have remembered knowing somebody with a kid, all of his friends were young and single mostly. Maybe you were someone from highschool? 

The little boy excitedly pointed out the tuna mayo flavor sitting in the display case, and you walked up to the cash register where Osamu stood. Your son held your leg shyly as he hid behind you.

“Hello,” you greeted with a smile. “I’m here to pick up a catering order for the Osaka Publishing Firm.”  

Oh, so you were picking up the food for the party he was catering. 

I don’t think I know anybody from Osaka Publishing though, Osamu thought to himself before shrugging it off. You probably just had a familiar face.

“And also could I get a tuna mayo onigiri with that?” You added, patting the head of your son still clinging onto your leg. “Haru here isn’t quite full from his lunch.” 

Osamu laughed as he looked down at the boy, still meekly hiding behind his mother. He was barely at her waist, and peeked up at him with curious brown eyes. Osamu remembered doing the same thing when he was at that age and felt a kindredness for him. The world is so big when you’re that small. “Big appetite, huh?”

“I wanna be a big strong athlete!” He announced, poking his head out from behind his mother. The way the boy gave him a toothy smile gave him an odd sense of déjà vu, but he had definitely never seen the kid before. 

“Let me go get the catering order for ya in the back,” Osamu said, and the woman nodded.

Osamu went through the doors behind the counter into the kitchen. He found the boxes of onigiri wrapped up neatly, ready to go for you out front. As he was double checking the order, he still felt himself rifling through his mind. Where had he seen you before? It was odd, but he shook off the nagging thoughts. You were probably just a customer from the past he forgot about. Though, it started to bother him that he couldn’t recall.

“Alright,” Osamu said, bringing out the order to the front counter. “I have five catering boxes, and one tuna mayo onigiri for mister Haru here.” The little boy beamed up at him, and Osamu chuckled. He was one cute kid, he’ll give him that.

“Do you use fatty tuna in the riceballs?” Haru asked, standing on his tippy toes so he could reach the counter and look at Osamu. “It’s my favorite!”

“Ya know, that’s actually my brother’s favorite food,” Osamu chuckled as he finished wrapping up the boxes.

The kid almost reminded him of Atsumu, he had the same energeticness and toothy smile. And not to mention Haru liked fatty tuna of all things. Funny, now that Osamu thinks of it, Haru kind of looked like his brother when he was that age. He had the same big bright eyes, ruffled dark hair that couldn’t quite be tamed… 

Now that he thought about it, Haru looked like Atsumu. 

A lot… Actually. 

He looked back at you, and you were too busy scribbling down a check in your checkbook. He looked long and hard, and he was right earlier, you did go to high school with him. He can vaguely recall a fuzzy image of your face. You weren’t in the same class, but you definitely were in the same grade. But if he couldn't remember who you were, why did he recognize you then? And why was it bothering the hell out of him that he couldn’t? He felt his brain short circuiting as he scanned your face for answers. 

You looked back at him with a smile, sticking the check out for him. He looked at your smile and then it clicked. 

FIVE YEARS AGO — HYOGO PREFECTURE, THE MIYA RESIDENCE

“She ghosted me!” Atsumu cried, flopping onto Osamu’s bed in their shared bedroom. Osamu felt a vein pop in his forehead, not only was his annoying brother interrupting his quiet time, he also intruded onto his beloved bed. When you shared a room, it was practically like crossing into illegal territory.

“I thought I could ask her out but she just ups and moves away! She even changed her number.” Atsumu whined, kicking his feet like a bratty child. Osamu was practically living with one anyway seeing as how the eighteen year old acted. He grimaced at the way Atsumu was roughing up the bedsheets he had just washed.

“She probably realized ya ain’t shit,” Osamu scoffed, attempting to shove him off the bed.

Osamu didn’t know much about his brother’s mystery girl, besides the fact she was Atsumu’s recent (of many) infatuations. He found it odd that she had abruptly moved without a word, especially since he thought she and Atsumu were hitting it off pretty well. (Maybe a little too well, according to a particular bathroom rumor he heard from a first year.) Maybe her parents had to move for work or something of the sort, but hey, it was none of his business nor his problem. He looked over to see Atsumu still lamenting beside him as he scrolled through his phone.

“Who’s this girl anyway?” Osamu asked, realizing he had never actually met you in-person since you were in Atsumu’s class and not his. He thanked his lucky stars he ended up being in a separate class from Osamu in their third year.

Atsumu shoved his phone in Osamu’s face with her Instagram profile on the screen. 

A girl with a bright smile plastered on the screen.

PRESENT DAY

He remembered now. He looked back at you, and realized you were the face on Atsumu’s phone. That girl who hooked up with his brother and disappeared five years ago was you. Then he remembered the little boy standing beside you, the one who looked eerily like his twin brother. He looked back down at Haru, who was eyeing the onigiri on the counter hungrily. 

There was no way…

“Hey kid, how old are ya?”

“Four!” He grinned. Osamu swore it was Atsumu’s grin staring right back at him. 

Osamu’s brain was going into overdrive as he went over the details. Five years ago, some girl—who he was damn near positive was you—ghosted his brother after hooking up with him. She moved away without a word and Atsumu never heard from her again. Now five years later, you showed up in his restaurant with a four year old who looked almost exactly like his brother.

What if the reason you moved away suddenly was because…

Quite frankly, Osamu felt like he was shitting bricks.

His brain was doing somersaults and he felt like the world’s gravity swung upside-down. With the facts lined up, and not to mention the math, his theory was seemingly impossible to deny. If you were the girl he thought you were, that would mean it was more than likely this kid was Atsumu’s. 

“Alright, here’s the money for the order,” you said, hand still stretched out. “I hope a company check will do.”

No, no, you can’t leave! He couldn’t lose you, who knew if you’d ever show up again. He needed a way to confirm your identity, and quickly. 

“Actually,” Osamu replied, scrambling in his head for some answer. “We don’t take checks, only cash and card.”

“I guess I have some money on me–” No, cash wouldn’t tell him your name!

“Would you look at that! The cash register isn’t opening!” Osamu chuckled nervously, repeatedly punching a random button on the register that definitely wasn’t the open button. 

You’re obviously growing more suspicious as you raised an eyebrow, Osamu was clearly acting strange, even he knew it. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be acting like a damn moron (that was more Atsumu), but obviously nothing about this was normal. 

“Oh, okay then,” you frowned, digging through your purse and handing him a card. Perfect! He thought. He took it graciously, and quickly looked at the name on it. Damnit, it’s a company card. He was running out of time before you walked out those doors.

“I think that our card machine on the machine is broken too actually,” Osamu stammered, quickly making up another lie. “I’m gonna have to manually input it in the back, but to do that, I’m gonna need a name to put it under.”

“Osaka Publishing should work,” you replied, growing noticeably weirded out. 

“I need an actual name,” he stiffly grinned. “Ya know, to put it in the books incase we need a contact to give you a refund.”

You looked at him oddly, “It’s (L/N) (F/N).” There we go!

“Wait here!” He responded almost too quickly. He didn’t give you a moment to think before he was rushing into the kitchen again. Once he was in the clear, he dug his phone out of his pocket, and quickly dialed his brother. You better pick up, you no-good piece of shit! He thought.

The phone rang agonizingly long before he was greeted with the sounds of volleyballs bouncing and sneakers squeaking on gym floors when Atsumu picked up. He sighed deeply and his shoulders collapsed in relief. 

“Ya better have a good reason to be bothering me at practice ‘Samu!--”

“What’s the name of the girl who ghosted ya in high school?!” Osamu barked abruptly.

“What the–” Atsumu responded, taken aback. “Why–”

“Atsumu, tell me now!” 

Atsumu paused on the other side.

“It was (L/N) (F/N), why?”

Osamu’s stomach dropped to his shoes. You were the same girl. There was no doubt about it now. The kid outside had to be his nephew, and Atsumu’s son.

“Atsumu, ya need to come to the restaurant right now,” Osamu instructed hastily. “(Y/N) is here–” Atsumu’s laugh interrupted him. 

“I know I was pretty torn up about it back then, but I don’t see why I need to–”

“Listen to me, ya moron!” Osamu exclaimed through clenched teeth. “Don’t you think it was weird she ghosted ya out of nowhere five years ago after hooking up with ya? Well, she’s here right now with a four year old, and I don’t think the fact he looks like you is a coincidence.”

Atsumu grew silent. As much as Osamu reprimanded his brother for his lack of brains, he knew he wasn’t a big enough idiot not to hear what he was implying. 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

—

You wiped Haru’s messy face with a handkerchief as he finished his onigiri. You sighed as you looked at your wristwatch, at this rate you were going to be late to the company party. Where was the cashier? Not only did he start acting bizarrely out of nowhere, he disappeared without a trace.

Your phone started buzzing in your pocket, and you saw Naomi’s caller ID. You picked up with a groan.

“Hey, did you pick up the food yet?”

“Naomi, this is the last time I’m ever doing a favor for you,” you grumbled. “This is taking way longer than you said it would.”

“That’s odd,” Naomi hummed in confusion. “They called me earlier to tell me my order was ready to be picked up, there shouldn’t be any holdup.”

“Well,” you responded as you scooped Haru into your arms, who was growing sleepy with his full stomach. “The cashier is kind of a weirdo.” 

You recalled the prior minutes to Naomi, noting that the “open button” he was pushing on the cash register was definitely the ‘7’ button. You would have left at that point if not for the fact he still had your company card with him, not to mention the catering for the party.

“He never acts weird whenever I go there for lunch, I actually think Osamu’s hot!” So that was his name.“Maybe you don’t notice because you got a nutty sense in men,” you snickered. You recalled the past few boyfriends Naomi had, who were less than conventional.

“Hey!” Naomi responded defensively. “But let me tell you, you should see his brother!” 

You rolled your eyes in response, even if Naomi couldn’t see it. You remembered he had mentioned his brother earlier, who shared a love of fatty tuna like your son. Though, if he was anything like the odd brother you were with, you probably didn’t wanna meet him.

“Oh no,” you muttered, looking at the time. It was nearly six o’clock. “I’m gonna be late for the sitter at this rate.”

“Y’know what,” Naomi said, “I’m ready now, just get Haru to the babysitter and I’ll get the food since you need to run, I want an excuse to look at that hunk anyway.” You laughed in response.

“You sure? I can wait a little longer.” You replied, not wanting your friend to be chewed out by your boss for being late, however, you were met with Naomi insisting.

“Alright, then.” You shrugged, you certainly weren’t going to argue since the babysitter charged a late fee. You looked back down at your son, dozing off in your arms. “Haru, baby, we’re gonna go to the babysitter now.”

Your son hummed in your arms, already drifting off into sleep. 

“Uh, sir!” you called out loud enough for the man to hear you in the back kitchen. “I actually have to get going now so somebody else is going to come pick up the food.”

Before you could even get your bearings to get ready and leave, he frantically came bursting out from the kitchen. “Hold on, you can’t leave!”

You were taken aback and dropped your phone in shock at his sudden appearance. Oh hell no, this guy really was crazy! You clutched your son closer, who was still fast asleep. You were now in protective mama bear mode now, and you were ready to throw down with the now assumably crazy cashier in front of you. You glanced around the restaurant for anyone else to help, but unluckily enough for you, you were alone. However, you looked down at your fallen phone to notice Naomi was still on the line.

 “I don’t know what your deal is but if you keep this up I’m calling the cops!” You shouted. “I’m leaving!”

“Wait, hear me out!--” As he tried to approach you. Absolutely not!

“Naomi, help!” You screeched, backing away, and you could hear the girl on the other line shouting back. You could hear her door slam on the other side, presumably to go get you.

You felt Haru start to fuss in your arms. “Mama, what’s going on?”

You spun around and made a beeline for the door, despite the protests of the insane man behind you. You were about to rush out the door before you slammed into somebody. It wasn’t Naomi, there was no way she could have made it this quickly, and the chest of whoever it was, was definitely a larger man. You looked up, praying it could be someone who could help you, but what you were greeted with was much worse.

“(Y/N)?” Miya Atsumu stammered.

Well fuck, you were definitely gonna be late now.

notes: if ur wondering, y/n didn’t recognize osamu bc they never met in high school!! i tried to make osamu figuring out as realistic as possible but at the end of the day this is still fiction 😔

reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated!

[httpsghostie]

i just . many thoughts head full . thinking about toxic husband price that doesn’t compliment his darling anymore bc they’re already married and so he “doesn’t have to” . then they go out and she’s looking all pretty and someone compliments her . and he gets mad ! bc that’s his wife !! nobody else gets to call her pretty if not him >:c

Is It Really You?

sorry not sorry love u

Summary: your husband doesn't compliment you anymore.

Word Count: around 900

Warnings: toxic!husband!price x f!reader, angst/hurt, estabilished relationship (?

masterlist

Marriage was being a burden.

You never thought it would end up like this, all the sweet moments you two shared were replaced with toxicity and you seemed to be the only one holding it together.

John had become a different man after a certain mission he had in the military, leading to a lot of heated arguments, him sleeping on the couch way more than often. Sex wasn't the same also, that's when you two even engaged in it. 

But to everyone else it was perfect. Such a cute little housewife doing everything to her handsome, hardworking husband. And to be honest, you'd do anything for John, only if it wasn't for the man he'd now become.

He was cold, distant, indifferent. He didn't compliment you anymore, he wouldn't pay attention to the small details of your being like he always used to do, so loving and caring, just because, in his mind, he didn't have to earn you again. You two were already married, why should he?

Meals were shared with him on his phone, dealing with work, and you watching some crappy romance tv show, hopefully imagining you could live that again.

But it wasn't until the day he was invited to a dinner and had to show up with his pretty wife, pretending like the life you shared wasn't only being held by convenience.

You two stood in front of the house, a fine bottle of red wine in your arms, patiently waiting for someone to open the door. You wore a beautiful black dress, the one that your husband would never fail to compliment, but instead he just complained about you making him get there late.

"What a bonnie lass!" Said Soap as he greeted you, holding his arms open for a hug. You laughed as you stepped inside, accepting his hug.

"Thanks, Johnny, it's nice to hear that." You glanced at your husband who was putting his cigar away.

"That's my wife you're talking 'bout, Sargeant." He said, crossing his arms after he closed the door behind him, giving him a stern look.

"I acknowledge a beautiful woman when I see one." You chuckled, but felt your cheeks flushing. It's been a while since someone complimented you. It was such an innocent act coming from him that you didn’t even mind, but you knew what your husband thought of that.

You could see Gaz in the house as well, and he was making the universal 'cut that shit off' sign to Soap — a small waving hand on the side of his neck. He knew Price more than Soap, and for longer, also. He knew about your decaying relationship and he also didn't want a scene.

"Show some fucking respect, she's my wife, MacTavish." Price almost spitted out, raising his tone.

“Wow, ok, easy there, Captain!” Gaz finally stepped in between them, trying to ease the mood as he chuckled. “No need for that,— do you mind?” He pointed at the bottle in your hands that you’ve almost forgotten about, and if it wasn’t for him offering to take it, you’d probably have clutched it so tight that the glass would snap. You gave him a sweet smile and an almost inaudible ‘thank you’, not being really sure of where to shove your red face from embarrassment. 

“Is there a problem there?” You heard the deep voice of Simon approaching the little reunion by the entrance hall, Price’s hands turned into clenched fists and he took a deep breath.

“Not at all,” you chuckled awkwardly, waving your hands, and turned to your husband, whispering to him as the guys made their way to the living room, “and enough, John, why would you want to cause a scene, hm? Suddenly you’re jealous? What is that?”

“You’re my wife.” He pointed a finger to your chest. “You’re mine and you deserve respect.”

“Respect? John, that was the furthest thing from respect, he was just complimenting me, what’s wrong with you today?” You two were arguing silently, trying to keep as cool as possible.

“I don’t know.” He softened his gaze on you, brushing his beard awkwardly. “I- I don’t know, my dear, ‘m sorry.”

“Let’s pretend this didn’t happen.”

You didn't pay attention to the dinner whatsoever, nor the conversations going like nothing ever happened, the embarrassing scene your husband had caused in the hall of Soap's house were merely enough to make you dissociate. You felt strange, like something lit inside of you, those long gone butterflies finding its way to your stomach all over again. 

The drive back home was silent, from the start of the engine to the keys being tossed on the side table by the door, followed by the sound of you taking your high heels off.

“Didn’t mean to do that.” He said. You sighed, holding back your tears as if you were in a burst of hormones. “You… do look beautiful, darling.” It came out strained, like a cry for help.

You weren’t sure why, you thought you should feel grateful for having someone to be jealous over you, you thought you should run to his arms, hug him, tell him everything was going to be alright, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so, you couldn’t even care to look at his face. Your heart was shattered in pieces, bleeding out. How could you deal with the pain?

And there he stood, watching the only thing that kept him from ending it all, slipping away from his fingers and mournfully perambulating through the hallway to their once shared room.

taglist: @butterbunana @snoisisabitch @nuhteyam @iamabsolutelynothere @blissful--moon @jellyluvr @khomugi @xaintxun @kichimiz @frog-spot @sasukeswife3 @aly0be

[ssahotchnerr]

I just had a bit of a spooky experience, and I was wondering if you could do something fluffy with Aaron and a reader whose afraid of the dark? Just need something sweet and reassuring. Love your stuff xx

hold onto me

omg i'm so sorry i hope you're alright <333 cw; mild descriptions of anxiety and fear of the dark, established relationship

storms were scheduled on the forecast all week, so it was bound to happen at some point. and of course, at the most convenient of times.

aaron and yourself were in the old bau bunker, or as dave strictly corrected you both - the bsu bunker. the two of you were in search of some old files that had been collecting dust, files that would hopefully be helpful and a reliable reference in a project the team was collectively working on.

you had to admit, going through the contents of the room was fascinating. it held an extensive amount of history and memories; it was the literal beginning of the bau and what it has come to be. in addition to the ancient files, both of you would occasionally come across other various items to show one another: old photographs, some of gideon's ancient bird books, and aaron happened to find an old wedding ring lost in a drawer - which you swore had to be one of dave's.

and both related and unrelated, the most important factor to you, the bau had brought you to your aaron.

it was another world down there, so you'd nearly forgotten that it was storming gravely outside. but, a sudden crash of thunder shook the entire building, and the room submitted to darkness faster than you could blink. and it being as old as it was, it didn't contain emergency lights, or windows for that matter, hidden deep in the basement. the two of you were surrounded by a seemingly endless void; you wouldn't even be able to see your hand in front of your face if you tried.

you jumped immediately, the side of your thigh hitting the table and rousing all the items on it, some even clattering to the floor. you didn't even notice the instant ache that shot down your leg, your fear all-consuming.

"shit. stay where you are." you could hear aaron moving about, bumping into things as well as he attempted to make sense of the darkness, and to get to you, fully aware of your intense fear of the dark, "honey, are you alright?"

you didn't answer, eyes squeezed shut as you shrunk back against the closest wall you could find. besides the sounds of aaron cursing under his breath, 'of course my damn phone is in my office' or his reassurances, 'i'm almost there, it's going to be okay', it was deathly silent; so quiet it was almost threatening.

you didn't even realize you were shaking profusely until you were in secure in aaron's arms. he wrapped you tightly in his embrace, your face pressed into his chest as he shielded you. instead of the grimy, stiff smell of the bunker, you were encircled with the familiar scent of aaron, something soft and sweet but still vastly masculine.

"you're okay sweetheart. here, let me..." he reached into your back pocket, finding your phone and turning the flashlight on, unforgotten to yourself in your panicked state. the light illuminated his face, thankfully, but also casted shadows from the furniture and whatnot onto the walls. it made the musty old room more menacing, terrifying.

your fingers gripped onto his dress shirt, closing your eyes once more as your face burrowed into the crook of his neck, searching to be closer, "aaron."

"i know, i know you hate it." he consoled you, one of his hands spanning your back. "stay close, hold onto me."

his hand placement, and the fact you were clinging onto him, allowed him to guide you easily, without you having to remove yourself from him - to be fair, you couldn't even if you tried. he navigated the two of you out, vaguely manhandling you and taking the brunt himself as he ran or tripped into lingering objects. he only had one objective, removing you from the situation as safely and quickly as possible.

once in the hallway, could you finally breathe. the power was still absent, but it was brighter, emergency lights on a bit further down the hall. it took you a second to regain your senses, your heart rate slowing to normal.

aaron's hands cupped your face, his thumbs running against your cheeks gently. his eyes searched yours, lined with concern and a gentleness, "you okay?"

you nodded, pressing your forehead to his for a brief moment.

"you're okay. you're safe." he repeated, in case you needed another reminder, another reassurance. he pressed his lips to yours for a moment, a hand moving to the small of your back, "i'll have dave and reid head down here a bit later instead. let's get you upstairs love."

[sungbeam]

𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 — teaser!

nonidol!kim younghoon x f!reader

neither you nor younghoon were party people, but you did find love in the convenience store down the block.

▷ genre, teaser warnings. friends 2 lovers, mutual pining, college au, swearing, mentions of chemistry & physics

▷ projected release date. february 16th/17th hopefully!

▷ estimated wc. 24-26k ... maybe

this is the seventh installment of the love in unity series! this can be read as a standalone, but there are multiple references to previous fics & i highly encourage u to read those; all other yns will be referred to as _!yn. (ayc occurs DURING party people)

a/n: surprise 🦅 @justalildumpling approved btw

TEASER BELOW THE CUT (APPROX. 500 WORDS)

Younghoon had never been tardy to your tutoring sessions last year, so you weren't surprised when you saw him seated at your usual table in the corner. He glanced up from his phone as you walked in, waving. There was a blue colored beanie over his head and a brown corduroy jacket draped over his shoulders.

He noted the container in your hands and his eyes widened like saucers. “You did not.”

“I told you I would save you a piece,” you said sheepishly as you set the container down in front of him and took a seat.

“You—” His bottom lip jutted out. “I can't accept this.”

“You have to. It has your name on it,” you insisted, pointing out the little “Younghoon” scrawled on the side in Sharpie with a smiley face. It was customary in your household to write names on containers if they weren't already color coded or marked with a label. Label makers cost more than Sharpies did, and most of the time, your family didn't mind scrubbing the ink off if needed.

Younghoon's smile was sweet like the pastry sitting in the Tupperware. “I literally made French toast as soon as we stopped texting.”

You laughed. “No way.”

“Yes way! I dragged Hyunjae's ass out of bed,” he told you with great energy, eyes alight as he recalled his late morning antics to you. “I really didn't expect that you would bring me a slice, Yn, you sweetheart.”

“We had lots of leftovers and I just knew the most enthusiastic bread fanatic I knew had to try some of my big brother's toast,” you told him, pleased with his reaction.

He seemed at a loss for words; he just kept looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and you wondered how you could replicate this reaction over and over again. “Thank you,” was what he settled on. “I—” He gestured to the container, to you, to the container, “It means a lot.”

“You're welcome,” you said simply.

Younghoon heaved a great sigh and stood up. “Now I have to buy you some snacks—no. Yn, sit your ass down.”

Your eyes widened a comical amount and you plopped yourself back onto the chair.

His lips wiggled as he held back a smile. “Don't move.”

“You don't have to do this, Hoon,” you shook your head as he began making his way over to the aisles.

“What's that rule in chemistry? Energy can neither be created nor destroyed?” He queried from within the drinks aisle.

“The first law of thermodynamics,” you supplied. “It's not just chemistry though. It's prevalent in all the sciences.” You weren't sure where he was going with this.

“Yeah, well—” He paused. You couldn't see him from where you were, but even the rustling noises stopped. “Shit, that's not the right rule.”

You bit back a laugh. Oh, he was too adorable.

“What's the one where equal and opposite and…?”

Your brain tripped. “Uh, the—the 'for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction’ one?”

More crinkling. “Aha! That's the one. Yeah, so for your actions, I must do as the physicists do, and react accordingly.”

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @mars101 @moonyswolf @your-mirae @richasdiary

[lanecoaster]

watch when we’re apart.

eren jaeger nsfw mdni female reader

“baby, let me see your phone.”

eren let out a huffed breath, pointing to it right next to them. he climbed back on top of her to kiss down her chest, completely distracted while she opened the camera and scrolled to video.

"takin’ selfies?" he opened her thighs, groaning as he fisted himself to the view of her wetness. y/n smiled, staring at herself in the frame.

she held the phone sideways to capture a little above her eyebrows and the lower half of her face. a little off the side of the bed so there wasn't any shuffling near the speakers. "for you to watch when we’re apart, of course."

she pressed record right as he'd started slowly pumping in and out of her soft cunt, hearing her little breaths following. the position of the frame captured how beautifully her hair was falling around her face while her plush lips turned into o's.

"daddy," she whispered, staring into the screen with wide pupils and low eyes, moving her head from resting sideways on her arm to her chin. her boyfriend wasn't in the frame at all, just a frame of her getting fucked out.

you can see a shadow loom over her as he leans forward, veiny hand grabbing her jaw and turning her face to his. gently and sensually, thumb brushing over her bottom lip.

"ooh-oo," her eyebrows furrow a bit, moving one hand from the phone to hold his forearm. eren was in a trance watching this, they don't often have slow sex. it's always passionate but recently it's more convenient to have faster love making. so when they get the chance it's taken gracefully.

especially after they've just shared a blunt before this, eren loves the way y/n looks when she's high. her face gets flushed, pupils widen but lids drop, her lips get really pink. god, it's so hot to him. he just wants to fuck her face every time. he knew he was going to cherish this video.

"my sweet girl, so beautiful. feels good?" her head drops back onto her arm, both hands on the phone again she nodded. the wet paps coming from her pussy started to make her shy, her cheeks reddening rapidly as she let out cute little "ah's". the tip of her tongue poking out at the camera. just for a second before he gave her butt a light smack, drawing her back in.

"i love it," she mumbled blissfully, smirking into her arm. giving a sharp yelp as he gave her one hard thrust, whining when he pulled out for a second to watch her hole clench around nothing.

"what're you blushin' for?" he reaches out to pinch her cheek.

"you embarrassed about how much your pussy likes me? huh? how wet she's getting?"

y/n nods, a small sound coming from the back of her throat. she watches him slip back in, looking up at his glazed-over eyes instead of at the camera. her mouth hangs open, the sounds of their romance resuming. "look at the camera baby."

he strokes her hair lovingly, pushing her head back down. "you're so deep," her eyes roll back for a couple seconds, a broken moan leaving her mouth. her thighs trembled, one hand leaving the phone again to hold one open. her fingers going to rub tight circles on her aching clit.

"fuck! fuckfuckfuck- daddy!" she squealed, arching her back slightly. she was so fucked out from only one round she forgot to alert him she was gonna cum. "m'sorry- ohmygod," her hair fell in front of her face and eren was quick to move it so the camera could see her face as she came around him.

"don’t be sorry," he shushed her, going slower when he felt her shudder from the pleasure. focusing in on the way her fingers rubbed softly against her clit, aiding herself through her high. "please don't s-top, ah,"

her pussy squeezed him so tightly, his breath was almost knocked from his lungs. he moaned, still on the verge. he grabbed the still recording phone from his girlfriends limp hand, raising it above his head a little to show him still fucking into her overstimulated cunt while she writhed beneath him.

[b0ng05]

Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader -

Grief pt. 2

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

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

Word Count: 1432

Summary: A little blurb to add onto Grief pt.1. As Sam deals with her grief over her girlfriend's death. I honestly don't know.

TW: Death, sprinkles of violence

Also, Not Proofread💅

Master list/ Request list

Pt.1. Pt.2. Pt.3?

A ringing persisted in Sam’s ears as she stared at the mirror in front of her, behind her was a sight that haunted her. The gory hallucination of her deceased girlfriend. Her hand trembling as she turns the handle to the sink faucet, water spewing out into her awaiting open palm. She splashes her face with the cold water a few times, trying to clear her mind. After wiping her face dry with a washcloth, her eyes flutter shut, her hands gripping the edge of the porcelain sink to maintain balance. She lets out a shaky sigh, her chest heavy and tremoring.

“Get it together, Sam.” She mutters under her breath, desperately trying to ignore the flashbacks that flickered around her mind and the feeling of Y/n’s undead eyes watching her.

But with each bated breath, the memories became closer and clearer. Her breathing picking up and her grip on the sink tightening. “Stop,” She mumbles, her teeth grinding together. Her jaw clenching as the pain seers right back into her chest, as if the wounds were still fresh, as if it wasn't a year later.

“Sammy, it’ll be fine, I promise!” Y/n begs, her hand slightly dragging Sam in the direction of the convenience store near them.

Sam bit her bottom lip, her nerves were already heightened, they were out in the streets at night and stopping in a shady convenience store wasn’t exactly in Sam’s comfort zone. But, a guilt ate away at the back of her mind, not wanting to be an overprotective girlfriend that makes her girlfriend pee herself because she’s too scared to let her use a public bathroom at night. With the way her girlfriend was awkwardly walking around with an urgent look on her face had made her decision for her.

“Alright, just be quick, okay?” Sam mumbles, raising their held hands to kiss the back of Y/n’s.

“I promise, baby,” Y/n chirps, kissing Sam’s cheek softly.

Y/n smiles and guides Sam into the convenience store, turning around a few isles to find the needed facilities. Once it was in sight, Y/n released Sam’s hand from hers and headed into the bathroom, leaving Sam waiting outside the bathroom's main door. Sam leaned her back against the wall, pulling out her phone once she remembered she had put it in silent mode. Upon turning the screen on, a notification from her sister takes priority.

Tara: How was the movie?

Sam: I’ll be honest. I liked it.

Tara: Y/n and I told you that you would

Sam: I mean, I didn’t love how much Y/n stared at Regina but the movie was pretty good.

Tara: Can you really blame her? 🤨

Sam: … Ttyl.

Sam looked at the time displayed in the top left corner of her phone, her eyebrows furrowed as she realized it had been over 6 minutes of her texting Tara. Her heartbeat quickened, knowing Y/n would normally not take this long, especially when Sam communicated her concerns about safety. She turns and pushes the bathroom door open.

“Y/n?” Sam calls out, rushing to the first stall door and raising her fist to knock, only for it to push open revealing that it’s empty.

“Y/n, babe?!” Sam shouts, her heart racing in her chest and mind spiraling upon zero response.

She rushed to the next stall, raising her hand to knock, only for it to push open, no Y/n inside. Her eyes widen and she charges shoulder first into the next stall, breaking the lock completely.

Her hand reflexing towards her agape mouth in horror upon the sight. Before her, Y/n laid against the wall, blood gushing from her chest, a gashing hole in the cloth of her sweater. Above Y/n’s body, written in dripping crimson was a message.

‘Hi Samantha, - GF’

Her face paled, but her body reacted before her mind as she rushed over to her girlfriend as she yanked her own jacket off, putting pressure on the wound as her other hand reached for her phone. Muscle memory being used as her nimble fingers dialed for help. She placed her phone on the floor beside her on speaker as she guided her girlfriend to lay on the floor to make applying pressure easier.

“It’s gonna be okay, honey- you’re gonna be alright- I promise- okay?” Sam stutters out quickly, using her free hand to stroke Y/n hair out of her face.

As the operator answered and began to speak with Sam, her focus was on the call, but her eyes wandered around the room, heart aching too much to stare at Y/n as her blood drained. The sight of a small window in the corner of the room. Small, but big enough to fit through if you really, really tried. ‘That’s how he got in,’ was the first thought in her mind upon the discovery. Her thoughts are disregarded as the operator instructs her to continually check Y/n's pulse and breathing until the ambulance arrives.

As she waits for an ambulance to arrive, she presses soft loving kisses to her girlfriend’s forehead, whispering sweet nothings, and reassurances that she’s gonna be okay. Once the ambulance arrives, they had to break it to Sam that her girlfriend was dead. The blood loss was too severe to ever make it to the hospital.

Once the cops clear Sam to leave the crime scene, she’s already stuck in a dissociative haze. Not even remembering the walk to Tara’s apartment nor knocking on her sister’s door so late. But what she does remember is Tara and the look on her face when she sees Sam covered in blood. She remembers Tara basically cradling her in her arms on her couch while Sam told her what happened, and Tara freezing and paling upon the news.

“Come on, Sam.” She growls, her frustration and pain becoming overwhelming.

Her hands move to push her hair back out of her face. She takes a few deep breaths and opens her eyes. She glances up into the mirror, her dark brown eyes bloodshot with tears that she wasn’t aware she had begun to shed. Her shaky hands move to swipe the teartracks away, drying her face. The hallucination was gone, leaving her alone to the cold embrace of loneliness that took imaginary Y/n's place. She glanced down at her phone that rested on the edge of the sink, realizing it was around time for her to get ready for work. She gave herself one last glance and one more deep breath before leaving the bathroom to go get ready.

After getting ready for work, adorned in a shirt that was branded with the diner’s logo. As she closed the front door behind her, she turned around to ensure it was locked.

“Oh, hey Sam!” A deep voice called from the left of her.

Her head whips over to see Danny. It was her neighbor, and as of late, a constant nuisance. Ever since he heard about the passing of Sam’s girlfriend, he was always offering words of condolence and pity. It enraged her. Between him, her sister, and her sister’s friends, she was sick of hearing people trying to comfort a grief that they couldn’t begin to understand. Yes, they had lived through similar, but not that same exact scenario now that Sam had lost her girlfriend in. The guilt that ate her alive daily, the one that she constantly drank away. Sam still hadn’t forgiven herself for that night, and constantly hearing people tell her that it wasn’t her fault was understandably annoying.

“Danny,” She nods in acknowledgement before turning to walk towards the elevator.

“Wait- Sam,” Danny calls out, taking a few steps closer to the woman.

“What?” She scoffs, turning around to face him.

“How are you holding up?” He asks, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“How do you think I’m holding up?” She quips, “If that’s seriously all you stopped me for, goodbye,” She rolls her eyes, walking to the elevator and giving him a sarcastic smile as she pressed the call button for the elevator.

Upon the lift arriving at the floor, she quickly gets in and presses the button for the first floor. As the doors begin to slowly close, she doesn’t miss the dark look in Danny’s eyes as he watches her leave. He remained unmoving from his position, lips in a thin line. Like a predator stalking its prey. An all too familiar look that sent Sam’s skin crawling and hairs to stand on end. Maybe she was overreacting...

Author's note- Am I thinking about writing another part where Sam hunts down the new Ghostface(s) to avenge Y/n? Yeah. Do I have an epic punchline for it? Fuck yeah.