#sorry this was such a juicy prompt

[ragnarokhound]

“Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me.” for the h/c prompts? 💞

Thank you for the prompts!!! I was going to respond to both of them today but uh. This one got a little out of hand lmao

I hope you enjoy!!

9. “Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me.”

Jaytim, warnings for: Thoughts of self-harm, canon-typical violence, panic attacks/triggers w/heavy emphasis on breath, Jason being a defensive, self-deprecating asshole <3

---

Jason doesn’t like to think of himself as a couple cards short of a full deck, but some nights? Are harder than others.

It’s so stupid. It’s always so stupid. Half the time it’s not even a trigger— and Jason knows his triggers, intimately. Has them filed away in a corner of his mind so that when the glass descends and his hands stop feeling like they belong to him, he can think to himself, oh, it was the beep of that guy’s wristwatch that set him off. That’s why he needs to be outside right now. That’s why he wants to punch brick until his knuckles are red and white and mangled.

Take tonight for instance.

He was doing his rounds. In between cases and expecting a slow night, when he found some guy getting worked over by a couple of mobsters. This would be easy, he thought. I eat chumps like these for breakfast, he thought. They aren’t even packing.

But a few meaty thwacks in the exact wrong rhythm, followed up by the poor sucker screaming in the exact wrong tone, and he’s left playing fifty-two-card pickup with only jokers to substitute. 

Ha. Ha. Ha.

Bloody shins aren’t as satisfying as busted braincaps no matter what Tim and the other bats say, but relationships are about compromise. He puts the guys in cheap suits on the ground and calls them an ambulance.

Their hapless victim gets a talking to about when it’s smart to borrow from loan sharks (never), directions to Leslie’s clinic (yeah, no, you’re gonna wanna take 15th—), what to say when the Red Hood personally intervenes on your behalf (thank you, strange man, bye), and Jason makes it to a safehouse without once giving in to the burn of the goading green fire in his blood.

See? Compromise.

Now he’s on the couch with blood on his bare knuckles, and the shards of glass in the bathroom are all that remain of his mirror. He sits and tries to breathe, but his brain is full of static; shuffling and shuffling and shuffling the deck but there’s no one to tell him when to stop. He’s not really sure how much time has passed when he hears the quiet whir of his security system shutting down.

There’s a gun in his hand with the safety off, pointed at Tim before the window’s even open.

Tim’s voice is loud in the quiet room, casual and light like the liar he is, but to Jason it still sounds muffled. Boxed up. Buried.

He takes another breath.

“Bad time?”

“Fuck off,” Jason says, just as faux-casual, because that’s what they do.

Only it wheezes out of him instead, thready and weak. The gun shakes in his hand. Tim pauses on the window ledge.

Jason can practically hear the gears whirring as he reassesses the scene: Jason’s bloody knuckles and the distant sound of water still running in the bathroom sink. Haphazard parts of his uniform shucked off almost at random, the helmet nowhere in sight, but his top missing and the holster straps hanging off his waist. 

Air whistles in and out of his tight chest in shallow, streaking streams that get closer and closer together the longer he looks at Red Robin’s expressionless white eye sockets. He knows what Tim sees. 

The silence weighs on him. It pisses him off.

The only thing worse than being a scattered mess is having a witness. The only thing worse than having a witness is if that witness is Tim. They haven’t been fucking that long, but it’s been long enough that Tim probably came over tonight with more than one item on his to-do list.

“Not tonight, princess,” Jason bites out when Tim still hasn’t said anything. “Daddy’s tired.”

Tim steps inside.

The gunshot rings sharp and stinging in the air before he even realizes he’s pulled the trigger. The smoking hole on the floor by Tim’s foot is the only warning Jason feels capable of giving right now.

“Did I—did I fucking stutter?” He tries to say, but black spots bloom at the scattered edges of his vision, and he wavers.

One second Tim is frozen with his palms out, showing that they’re empty, and the next he’s easing the gun out of Jason’s hand and letting Jason twist a fist in the front of his costume. He helps Jason sit back down, and Jason doesn’t want to look at his face, to see the pity there. 

He gasps, muscles tensing, and under his fingers he catalogs the new mesh Tim is trying out with his suit. It’s probably something with a stupid, long name and the word “polymer” thrown in for added pretension. It sounds like something Tim would do.

“...something happen tonight?” Tim is asking quietly.

It’s not Robin-steady, because he knows Jason well enough to know how bad an idea that would be, but it’s not the levity they fake with each other either. Whatever it is, it’s making Jason itch.

Then he catches Tim taking his pulse and peering into one of his eyes with intense scrutiny, and what he’s said catches up to him. 

Jason laughs. It’s an ugly sound.

“Oh, quit it. I wasn’t gassed,” he snaps. “There’s no toxin, there’s nothing wrong with me.”

“That’s not what I—” Tim tries to backtrack but it’s way too late for that weak shit.

“Except for the everything that’s fucking wrong with me,” he snarls. He didn’t know he was going to say that until he'd already said it, bubbling and burning out of his mouth like melting plastic, acrid and noxious— but he feels afloat, drifting; like he’s watching himself from the other room. So it doesn’t matter.

“It’s not going to be fixed, there isn’t any antidote for you to cook up in your cute little lab for this—” he whirls a sharp-fingered hand around his temple, “fucking garbage.”

“Jason,” Tim says, fingers tight and prying at Jason’s grip.

“There’s no cure for being beaten to death, no little step-by-step handbook for kids who don’t fucking stay dead, so you can take your shitty costume and your knock-off batarangs and fake-ass fucking concern—”

“Jason, take a breath for me.”

“You—”

Take a breath? Oh, he’ll take a fucking breath, alright—

He’ll take a breath and then he’ll—

He’ll take a breath and—

He’ll take a—

He takes a fucking breath.

Tim’s face is bare.

His eyes are very blue. It takes Jason approximately three years to realize that the heavy weight on his shoulders is Tim’s cape, unclipped and pooling in their laps.

It takes another five to realize that the heavy weight in his lap is Tim himself, straddling his thighs and breathing steadily under their joined hands. Tim’s heart beats an alternate rhythm, almost three beats for every breath in, almost four for every breath out, and Jason closes his eyes.

“Fuck.”

“Hey,” Tim says.

Jason doesn’t say anything more.

What else is there to say when your kind-of-colleague, kind-of-booty-call, complete-pain-in-the-ass comes over when you’re in the middle of some kind-of-mental break? Fucking ‘sorry’ ?

“Sorry,” he says. “Not exactly fit for company right now.”

Tim smirks. “I noticed.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“You gonna shoot at me again?”

Jason scowls.

“I fucking might.”

Tim only rolls his eyes. Jason finds it oddly settling. He finds all of it oddly settling; bickering with Tim is normal. Easy. It reminds him of what he’s like now. The full fifty-two.

His fingers are still trembling, but Tim is stroking absent-mindedly over the skin on the back of his hand. He might not be aware he’s still doing it. Tim exudes an air of total comfort, like the only place he wants to be right now is literally babysitting Jason; but Jason knows better. He sighs.

“Listen,” he says, staring at a point past Tim’s ear. “I could have picked a better way to say it, but I’m— I’m really not up for anything tonight—”

Tim stiffens.

“Jason, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Sex, obviously.”

He watches in real-time as Tim processes that. It’s honestly kind of fascinating, in a terrible, gut-stabbing kind of way. Tim takes a deep breath.

“Dude. I get that you are in an emotionally vulnerable place right now—”

“Hey—”

“—but I’m not that much of an asshole,” Tim says flatly. “You really think I’m gonna bail the second I see that you’re having a bad night? Or that I’m only gonna stick around if you put out after you’re done having a panic attack? Very sexy. Fuck you very much,” he finishes, hissing and affronted. 

Jason stares at him.

“You can’t tell me this is how you wanted to be spending your night,” he says, but his hands creak convulsively around Tim’s, as if to hold him in place. The traitors.

“You don’t know how I want to spend my night,” Tim retorts.

“Oh, come on. I’m not gonna ask you to babysit me and check the closet for monsters before I go to sleep so I don’t have wittle nightmares—” Jason scoffs.

“So don’t ask,” Tim says, eyes burning; Jason’s breath catches. “Tell me to stay. I’ll be here.”

“You’ll be here,” he says skeptically. But Tim’s hands squeeze around his, so hard and fast it hurts. The pain is grounding.

“As long as you’ll have me.”

He wants to scoff again. It’s the kind of saccharine after-school-special corny bullshit that he always hated coming from Bruce.

But his grip is just as tight on Tim, their bones rubbing together through the barrier of their skin. The thought of letting go makes his stomach swoop, like the moments just after stepping off a plane with no chute. That window between stepping and being caught; when his heart still needs convincing that someone else will save him.

(It’s the kind of earnest, rock-solid sincerity he always craved from Bruce; the kind he always ate up, hook, line, and sinker.)

He swallows his pride. His dry throat clicks.

Fine. Stay. If you’re so fucking eager, is what he tries to say. 

But all that comes out is, “Stay.”

Tim leans forward, and drops his forehead onto Jason’s bare shoulder. Jason’s shaky breath stirs the fine black hairs beneath his nose, the mild scent of his shampoo wafting gently into Jason’s nose. After an uncertain beat, he lets his cheek fall. Then the rest of him. They stack against each other, two cards forming the foundations of a house. 

When Jason shakes apart, Tim holds steady.

[gallawitchxx]

🔮💨 crystal ball weed bong mickey 🔮💨

part 11 for @galladrabbles "revel in your time" by gunship, prompted by @edmercer

master post (updates weekly!) | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10

✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺

“I know you saw something,” Gallagher whispers, stepping forward like a dead man on a mission.

Mickey winces. Wills himself back into his body, his eyes drifting shut as he calls to the scattered bits of his blissed out brain.

The time has come to fold. 

“Yeah…”

The chaos spreads the room as Gallagher shifts again. Mickey’s pulse races, relying on sound and vibration to track his movements.

“I just need to know one thing.”

Mickey peeks, curious, then breathless at their newfound proximity.

They lock in eye to eye as Gallagher rips them apart:

“Do I make it through?”

[krys-loves-otome]

Fictober 2022, Day 4: How Would That Even Work?

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku Rating: Mature Pairing: Mitsuhide Akechi x Preg!Reader Summary: Mitsuhide just wants you to sit in his lap and eat oranges with him. Warnings: Sensual orange eating, pregnancy, Mitsuhide being a tease, if that's a warning

My Masterlist! Also on ao3!

-------

"How would that even work?"

"It's really quite simple. You sit on my lap and I would feed you from my hand. How does that sound?"

"I can feed myself just fine."

"You wound me, little mouse," Mitsuhide sighed dramatically, putting a hand to his heart. "A few days separated has already turned your heart to ice. My heart weeps in despair."

His eyes, still golden and dry, said otherwise.

"Your melancholy is certainly palpable, Mitsuhide."

You cross your arms and look away, feeling embarrassed to say the real reason you didn't want to sit in his lap and eat from his hand. His fingers took the opportunity to tickle your defenseless abdomen.

"It would take quite a bit more than you, our little kit, and a handful of fruit to break my thighs, if that's what's troubling you."

You turned further away, feeling your ears burn. Mitsuhide poked you again.

"Come now, Little Mouse, these oranges I worked so hard to pick for you will rot at this rate."

You tense, feeling the craving for the sweet tanginess of oranges come over you so suddenly. True, you had told him you liked oranges before, but the craving coming over you was intense.

"[Name]," Mitsuhide said more firmly, the sound of a round fruit rolling on a plate catching your attention.

He had his thumb placed at the top of the orange, the rind giving easily to quick, gentle pressure. He put half a piece to his mouth, bit down and the juice dribbled down his chin. You swallowed, hard.

"But… you can't taste anything-"

"It's wet," he said simply, licking his lips sensually. "Cool on the tongue. Little sticky if I had to give it one flaw."

He finished off his little piece, licking the remaining juice from his fingers, making sure to look you in the eye while doing so.

"Delicious," his voice was low as he pulled another piece off and biting it as well, proving it just as juicy and dripping as the first. And again, Mitsuhide licked his lips and fingers, stirring them against his tongue.

With caution thrown to the wind, you over take his sweet, sticky lips, tasting the remaining nectar from his chin. Mitsuhide chuckled.

"My, someone's hungry." He tore off another piece and touched it to your lips.

"Now, say 'ahh'."

You complied with a pout, agitated that he had won you over. The whole piece brushed your tongue, the sweetest tang exploding in your mouth. As soon as you chew and swallow, you feel a wet warmth slide up your lip corner, a quick swipe that makes your cheeks burn.

"…Did you just-?

"My hands are occupied, unfortunately, so my options are limited, as you can see."

"You could have told me and I would have gotten it."

"Now, where's the fun in that?" He tore another piece. "Ahh?"

The second piece was just as juicy and sweet as the first, Mitsuhide coming to your rescue once again, licking your chin.

"Such a messy eater, dear [Name]," Mitsuhide chuckled after the third piece, "I hope that isn't behavior you're going to teach our kit."

"Says their father who eats leaves and bark straight off trees."

"Only as a last resort to stave off starvation. Though…" he touched his nose to yours, "I recommend boiling it in strips to protect your delicate teeth. Or grinding it to a powder to make it into a small cake."

"N-no thank you. I think I'll stick with the oranges."

"Pity, I was looking forward to making you a tasty tree bark cake."

 "Masamune would run you through for even stepping a foot into the kitchens."

"He cannot protect every kitchen in Japan, and certainly not the ones in my domain, amusing as it would be to see him try."

He licked his lips one more time before placing his hands behind your knees and back, making his sure his sticky fingers weren't touching your clothes. You grabbed onto Mitsuhide's neck to keep balance.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking you to get washed up. I want to give our kit some pets, but I can't do so with my hands in such a  sticky mess."

"Then, why are you carrying me?"

"To make sure you can't escape me." He kissed your lip corner, looking you in the eye, "Feeding you those oranges and kit petting are going to be the most innocent thing I plan to do to you tonight."

You swallow, seeing that familiar glint in his eye. Oh…

[ehlnofay]

(For the prompts) number 6 - A juicy rumor about a prominent person

same prompt requested by @jiubilant so this will cover both :)

“Excuse me, sera?”

The bare-faced stranger looks up from the book ze’s flipping through, a line between zir brows. It's quiet as ever in the Library of Vivec, the few patrons browsing quietly, the Ordinators standing unsettlingly statue-still. The green-tinted light of the lanterns gleams off of their gold armour. The low ceilings make the place feel almost snug - or suffocating, depending on how one chooses to approach it.

Standing before zem, shifting her weight with poorly concealed impatience, is a child in neatly tied Temple robes, a satchel tucked under her arm with the strap dangling. (Some kind of initiate, maybe – a lot of people are brought up in the Temple, raised for the vocation.) Ze says, “Yes?”

“Do you know where I can find the prayer books?” the girl asks.

The stranger closes zir own volume, frowning. “No,” ze says, “sorry. What are you looking for?”

“Consolations.” The girl’s arched brows knit, displeased; she’s shifting her feet so much that there is an honest concern she might wear right through the thick-woven rug.

“There should definitely be a few copies of that about.” The book, bound in dark, peeling leather, is placed back on its shelf. “But it might be difficult to find. The religious texts are put in every section, and the shelving system is… rather cryptic.” It’s a method of propaganda, most likely – the books of Temple doctrine being scattered among everything else, that is, not the Library of Vivec’s bizarre shelving system. Not even the books entirely about the practise of religious rituals or prayer are grouped together; they’re more inextricable, mixed in with everything else.

It might not be. Ze’s a bit jaded, at the moment; ze sees most everything the Temple does as propaganda, right now. (The problem is that so much of it is. And that’s not any kind of conjecture – Vehk told zem so. It’s hard to find any kind of reliable truth in a dogma that ze’s currently helping to twist to zir own ends.)

(Not that ze’s trying to be selfish. Things are just complicated right now.)

The girl frowns. “Drat,” she says, with an emphasis that almost makes zem laugh.

Ze asks, “What did you need it for?”

“Kena Vedren set me a project about the Library.” The girl tugs at the hair pulled in knots back from her face. “I can’t do it if I don’t find the book, I’ve got to copy from some of the pages. And I can't just find it in the bookstore back in the Redoran canton – that's cheating.”

The stranger offers, “I can help you find it.”

(Ze might as well. It’s what ze’s here for, isn’t it?)

The girl yanks at her hair sharp enough that her eyes screw up. “But I was meant to learn to find information on my own,” she says. “That was part of it.”

“Asking for help is just a tool you can use to get things done,” the stranger points out. Ze tucks a thumb into the sleeve of zir high-necked jacket. “Come on. I think that one will be in the history section. Or close to it, at least.” (It’s a safe guess; the history section is the biggest, and holds a lot of the Temple texts.)

The girl twists her mouth and acquiesces, and they begin to walk.

She eyes zem curiously as they go, the light from the green-glass lanterns reflecting starkly against her eyes. “You’re an outlander,” she pronounces, after several silent seconds.

“And you’re the first to ever make that observation,” the stranger says serenely. Ze smiles, cheeks crinkling like there’s air trapped beneath the skin. “Yes. I was born in Cyrodiil.”

The girl ponders this. Fiddling with her sash, she looks very serious in a way that doesn’t quite mesh with her lopsided face and skittish fingers. “Then why are you in the Temple Canton?”

That’s a difficult question to answer without disclosing some things that should not, right now, be disclosed.

“I still follow the Three,” ze says – because it has, at times, been not not true. Zir nails scratch absentmindedly at the skin pressed over zir cheeks – smooth, unblemished, free of ink. Zir lips are cracking again.

“Oh,” says the girl, and ponders this some more.

The history section ze’d referred to takes up a quarter of the library. The stranger nods to the Ordinators stationed by the shelves a little more deferentially than ze usually would. Zir hair falls loose over zir face as ze does so, and ze has to carefully push it back.

The book is probably here somewhere. Ze sets to scanning through the shelves.

“Did you hear the Temple is changing?” the girl asks, following the words on each book’s carefully cared-for spine with a finger, and the stranger’s stomach drops.

(Metaphorically, of course; none of zir insides do much of anything anymore.)

“I did,” ze says, neutral. “Are you hearing a lot about it?”

She shrugs. “I overhear the priests, sometimes. And Kena Vedren told me a bit. My grandmother, too.”

Her finger stops on a thick book bound in painstakingly painted guar-leather. She squints.

“It’s weird,” she tells zem, staring hard at its thick spine. “I don’t know. My grandmother doesn’t like the talk about it. She says it’s all hearsay. And none of the priests will answer my questions.”

The stranger can’t imagine they would do.

“I think it’s a bit rude that I keep asking, actually,” the girl says after a moment. “Am I talking too much? Sorry. I tend to be a bit of a chatterbox. It’s a problem – I keep talking when I’m supposed to be listening and the priests get cross.”

“That’s all right,” the stranger says. Ze looks at this child – round-faced, keen-eyed, her hands prudent around the Library’s books – and smiles. It wears wrong on zir face. “I don’t talk to very many people these days, anyway.”

The girl nods and goes back to sorting through the shelf.

“It’s just weird,” she reiterates, frowning.

The stranger takes another glance at her high, furrowed brows, asks, “What do you think?”

The child considers this. “If the Tribunal want to rest,” she says slowly, “I think they’ve earned it, haven’t they?” She sifts through a few narrow volumes, adds, “Besides, it isn’t as though they’re gone. I heard Mehra Llareth saying that the Nerevarine went to work with Lady Almalexia, help her prepare everything so she could retire from public life. Did you hear they went to Mournhold?”

If the stranger had to breathe, ze would be in trouble, air sticking to the back of zir throat. As it is, ze presses the flat of a gloved hand through zir shirt against the pendant set into the base of zir sternum. Its hard facets and sharp corners dig into the thick skin of zir palm. “I think I heard something to that effect,” ze says, and, momentarily, ze thanks all the gods ze no longer prays to for zir ever-dry eyes and zir garbled voice that does not shake.

(Ze wants, very badly, to laugh. Or perhaps to hit zir head against the wall. This is why things are all so complicated.)

“She’s travelling among the people now,” the girl says. “I think. Which is strange to think about, isn’t it? But I can’t pretend to know what that would be like, being a god. It might be exhausting. And if they’re just going to take a rest, then they’re still around. And maybe they’re still listening. And maybe they’ll still speak through their people time to time – not priests, probably, but maybe their champions. Maybe the Nerevarine, if they’re helping them retire.”

Ze bites down hard on zir tongue. “Maybe.”

Blood blooms, ashy and rotten, in zir mouth. Zir tongue feels dry and thin as paper.

(It’s always interesting, to hear people speaking of zem. Normally ze doesn’t get this kind of candour – until relatively recently the scars made zem very recognisable. Ze never feels quite comfortable stripping them away, so until ze could figure out how to layer over them, ze had to settle for a distinctive face.)

(Maybe ze shouldn’t have bothered with it today. Ze’d been in the mood for peace ze wouldn’t get if noticed, but this is worse. It aches.)

Zir finger, dark-gloved, trails along the edge of a shelf, collecting dust. “Hey,” ze says, rasping, rapping a knuckle against the spine of a book dyed red and embossed with black lettering, “is this the one you were looking for?”

The girl looks up. She beams, crooked-toothed and full of life. “Yes! That’s the one I needed to copy from! Thank you for the help, sera.”

“My pleasure,” the stranger tells her through dry, chipped teeth, and ze barely waits for the girl to pull the book from the shelf before ze ducks away.

The air in the library is cold and stifling and the Ordinators’ golden faces feel like some kind of mockery. Ze taps the pendant set into the base of zir sternum, half-swallowed by the scabby skin of zir stomach, for comfort, and leaves before the green-tinged light can make zem feel any sicker. Zir shoes scrape against the mats. It sounds like rustling leaves.

Ze’s still not certain if ze wants to laugh or cry. It would be easier if either of those things came naturally anymore.

…

Back in the Palace, peeling off the clinging film of clear dull skin, Caelestis asks, “Did you know that the Nerevarine went to Mournhold to help Almalexia retire?”

There is a pause, the silence of the cavernous hall bearing down on them both. The light flickers dimly.

Vivec says, “Ah.”

Caelestis has laid zir body without much care against the low wall at the foot of the plinth. Zir gloves lie on the stone next to zem.

“Perhaps one day,” Vivec says mildly, “that will be funny.”

Perhaps. Caelestis doesn’t believe it; and though ze’s never been much for reading peoples’ feelings – and Vehk’s far less than most – ze doesn’t think they do, either. “Might as well be optimistic,” ze replies, instead of saying so.

(What good would it do? What else can be done, after all?)

Vivec, one ornamented hand trailing in the ashpit surrounding hir old plinth, blinks at zem.

“The Nerevarine might be a conduit between the people and the retired Tribunal, too,” Caelestis says. Ze digs a fingernail just a bit too deep – it breaks the crusted skin by zir eye, the rot-dark crescent of keratin dipping into whatever’s built up behind it. (It doesn’t drip, at least; it’s long since dried up.)

Vivec lets his eyes stay closed when he next blinks. “Ah.”

“Mm.”

Caelestis rubs the pad of a thumb over the scab and lets zir head tip back.

In a few months – two to six, depending on progress – the Nerevarine and the last of the Tribunal will abandon Morrowind to fend for itself. Even this country that so reveres its ancient dead has no place for them now. (Staying would only make it worse. Staying would only make it worse. Staying would only make it worse, and ze knows this – better to leave a mythic hero and Living God than remain and give the chance for anyone to learn better – but it doesn’t feel good.)

Vehk’s blood-red ring winks on their finger. Caelestis’ pendant is still cold against the flesh that holds it in.

“We’re doing the best we can,” Vivec says. He speaks strongly, but his voice doesn’t resonate like it used to; in the hollow hall it sounds lonely.

Caelestis drops a scabby black hand into the ash. “I know,” ze replies. Zir voice is quiet, vowels garbled with zir half-a-tongue. “At least this way our memory can be a comfort.”

In the time they remain, they are carefully warping the story to ensure it. In a century’s time, the Nerevarine will have gone to Mournhold to assist the goddess in withdrawing from the responsibilities she had so long shouldered. The Nerevarine will have aided the transition from Temple to Temple. The Tribunal will have stepped back from their altars and faded into obscurity gracefully. They’re getting enough ahead that they won’t even need to rewrite history – it will simply be the way it’s always been told.

It’s all they can do, now. It will have to be enough.

[itsutatanelol]

posts twice in a single day oml

pastes this here from my notes for future ref to immortalize this fanfic idea [moderately long post warning]

ok so fanfic idea >:)

the setting is like ancient korea type (doesnt have to be explicitly in korea - it can also be medivial/ancient england, japan, etc or a location isnt even explicitly set or its a fictional place) - whether its scifi/fantasy/etc is optional

we got person a who is like a part of a large ass royal family and is in very high status but is very humble and acts like a poor person

then theres person b who is a servant with the only family they have being one parent/grandparent/sibling/etc or something but they are very arrogant and act like theyre all high and mighty and haughty like royalty

one or both of them may or may not be relatively weak frail and/or ill and are/is prone to dropping dead or just randomly collasping (whether be into a coma or just passing out) at any given time due to this (because we gotta have the tragic drama teehee)

one of them bumps into the other and one falls in love at first sight and slowly begins to follow the other everywhere and try to interact with them more (bonus points if they both fall in love instantly) but because of their status (or bc theyre gay (or both)) they cant openly be in a relationship cus everyone will go apeshit cus omg the royal is dating a dirty lowly servant !! so they either 1. have to go into hiding and secretly date once they realize their feelings or 2. have to stop interacting with each other and break up (more bonus points if one or both of them deny their feelings at first due to their status/gender). BUT !! they might decide either eventually or from the start that they dont give a fuck about what other people think and start to flex their relationship via arrogant pda

this may also turn into a romeo and juliet situation where their family tells them not to see each other for whatever reasons but they are DESPERATELY and STRONGLY YEARNING FOR EACHOTHER !!! also they may or may not eventually get married or move away from another and if its the latter then they may or may not see each other again and if its the latter of that then they may or may not reincarnate and meet somehow

[blkkizzat]

ღ 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞!𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 ღ

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟐

18+ONLY MDNI

kizzatober series: Smooth Criminals

Kinktober Prompts: Clothed Male/Naked Female, Thigh Riding, Knife Play Synopsis: The university campus is being terrorized by a copycat Ghostface killer. As a popular sorority girl with a dumb jock bf, you are a prime choice to be his next victim especially given how he can't stop thinking about you. But you're no ordinary Sorority Girl bimbo, now are you? CW: AU college fic. blood obsession/hematolagnia, bimbo reader, murder, slight DV (from your npc jerk ass bf), unprotected sex, masturbation, slight age gap (roughly 21 vs 28) and dark content. NOTE: If death/killer romanticization related shit triggers you this is probably a fic to avoid because that is happening all through this bitch. I literally wrote a murder fluff smut fic lmfao. WC: 6.5k of 15.4k Lightly black fem coded (reader is an AKA lmfao) but no descriptors.

A/N: This is my first kinktober fic! I'm sorry this took so long y'all but last week been low key hell and I was sick for a lot of it. Also I did struggle with this a bit since this one I decided to do as an whole fic instead of PWP and now its gotten to be so long its definitely going to be in two parts. Sorry there's no smut in the first part, but there is some fluff and some juicy build up. I've never written for Choso before but he's so baby girl omg I'm obsessed with him now but still I'm a bit nervous posting this. sorry if its dog.

Enjoy!

“Ever felt a knife rip through human flesh and scrape the bone beneath?”

Those were the last words a nameless student heard before Ghostface's hunting knife shined menacingly in the air and came down to claim its newest victim.

Shluk! Shluk! Shluk!

Metal slashed through flesh with razor precision.

Gurgled death cries are silenced as the lifeless body collapses to the ground. 

A thick pool of blood began gathering around them to fan out and travel around their body down the slanted titled floor to drain. 

Choso breathed in deeply. 

A wave of calm washed over him. 

Peace. 

Almost in an enlightened state, he felt the most serene after a kill. 

It was beautiful. 

Blood was beautiful.

The surging stream of blood that would eventually slow to a trickle, the abstract designs of its splatter and the way it swirled around the body splayed across the ground like paint on a canvas.

Like a painting. 

A death painting… and the knife, his paintbrush. 

This was his art.

Choso can recall the first time he actually saw blood beyond a minor scrape. 

He couldn’t have been more than 6 years old. No doubt trying to impress his younger brother Yuji by balancing on top of the monkey bars. After all this time Choso isn’t certain as to how, but he lost his footing and fell flat on his face onto the unforgiving concrete below.

Screams of children filled the area once Choso pushed himself up onto his feet. He immediately felt wetness rush down his face. However, rather than cry or panic a young Choso cocked his head curiously when he noticed his reflection on the metal jungle gym. A warped view of his face mirrored back at him but he could still make out the bright red fluid cascading down his features staining him in red. 

Choso didn’t know how long he stood transfixed, mesmerized by the sight of rouge river that flowed from him until Yuji ran back crying with their parents in tow. 

It was how he had the scar across the bridge of his nose till this day, which became unsightly enough he had decided to get a black bar tattooed over it as soon as he turned 18. 

From then on he couldn’t deny his growing obsession with blood and seeing it leave the human body. All of which had led him here to this university to attain a PHD in Forensics. 

He picked this university, not only for their program but it was the perfect small town playground for Ghostface, a local urban legend from years ago he decided to revive once he felt as he had attained enough knowledge not to get caught.  

Choso was meticulous in his process. 

Ironclad alibis, no distinctive patterns and no victims with any connections to each other, nor him. Additionally, he had memorized all the angles of the university’s security system (thanks to a security guard he had bribed then promptly killed). 

His victims' lives were just his means to an end for his art and most students on this campus wouldn’t amount to much anyway outside of that was how he justified it. Choso did like toying with them on occasion though, fear made the blood pump faster and spray harder once he finally did catch them. 

Sadly, he could never admire his creations for too long though before needing to make his own exit. 

Almost midnight. 

Ten more minutes before campus security makes another round.

He took one last glance at the scene of carnage he had created before disappearing into the night. 

☠

In just a mere 2 hours, the news of another Ghostface murder spread across campus. 

The university’s students were either scared, scattering back to barricade themselves in their dorms. Or curious, lingering around the crime scene near the safety of the news crews and reporters who had gathered to see who the unlucky victim was this time.

No one however, is likely more curious than you: A third year forensics undergrad, who was just itching to get a real glimpse of your first real crime scene, a Ghostface copycat killer crime scene at that! 

You had even left a huge frat party (to be fair it was about to get broken up soon anyway) to trek across campus in the bitter cold of late fall. 

“Y/N, let’s go back–,” one of your pledges whined, “–it’s cold and my feet hurt in these heels!”

“Shh, Stassi, shut up! What if this is an initiation test?” another pledge whispered. 

Your sorority pledges chatter on behind you and you almost forgot you brought them along. It’s not like you wanted to but, like it or not, they were attached to you at the hip like little ducklings until rush was over.

With a clap you turn on your heel to address them.

“Ladies–” 

However you abruptly stop once you see your Forensics TA, Choso Kamo, taking what appeared to be a night jog across the campus quad. 

Was he going to the crime scene too? Your face instantly lights up and your pledges look around confused.

“Wait here girlies! I’ll be 5 minutes max…. No, I mean it. Wait right here!”    

Your pledges huff quietly, but agree. 

They had no choice really as you were already skipping as fast as your not-so-sober legs would carry you in 5-inch pumps over the quad lawn. Truthfully, that was not something they were trying to do too, especially not to chase down what looked like some creepy emo nerd.

“Choso!”

You call out to him and wave, but he doesn’t look like he sees you as you hurry towards him.

“Hey Choooo! Wait up!”  You puffed out, trying to maneuver over the grass in your heels. 

Choso sighed recognizing your voice, reluctantly slowing his pace. He would have kept on jogging but he knew you would keep calling out to him and draw even more attention that he really didn’t need right now.

Finally catching up to him, you grab Choso’s arm and loop yours through. He flinched slightly at your touch but you knew he always seemed a bit jumpy when it came to physical contact, so this didn’t phase you. 

If anything you thought his reactions were kinda cute.

“Where are you going weirdo? All the action is back that way!” You teased with a big grin and pointed in the direction of the crime scene.

Choso tries to ignore how his adrenaline was pumping even faster from you holding on to him than when he was running, especially dressed as you were. 

You looked sexy as hell utterly ridiculous.

You were decked out in a sailor costume, which was pretty much just a poor excuse for lingerie at this point. Your white sailor flap collar attached to nothing more than a sparkly navy bra with shiney white and red trims, leaving your midsection exposed showing your cute little belly ring in the shape of an anchor. 

This was complemented by a dangerously short yet matching sparkling navy pleated skirt which sat low on your thick hips. Your shapely legs were the most covered part of your body yet still looked overwhelmingly tempting in red glittery garters, attached to white opaque stockings in glittery red heels.

“I’m the weirdo… but you’re dressed like that in 40 degree weather.” Choso retorted, brow raised.

“Duh Choso–” 

You released his arm to give him a twirl in your outfit, not noticing the way he nervously wet his lips watching your skirt rise with your little spin.

“–The ‘Get Nauti’ party was tonight silly, where have you been!?”

Oh you know, just casually killing someone. Choso resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

Of course he knew about the party. 

The campus had been littered with fliers for ‘Get Nauti’ for the past two weeks. Nothing Choso would ever be interested in as he would rather stab himself in the face than attend a mind-numbing party with a bunch of bro-for-brain frat guys. 

However, he did take advantage of the opportunity to create another death painting as Ghostface with the rest of campus preoccupied. 

He couldn’t tell you that though obviously.

“Gym,” Choso said flatly and shrugged, “Heading back to the dorms n-”

“–You mean you aren't going to the Social Sciences building!? Don’t you remember?!” You cut him off in your excitement. 

“The police said they would let us forensic students look at the next crime scene!”

Your face had a warm glow and your movements slightly swayed. You were clearly drunk.

“No Y/N, they said they might let the PhD students, like me, look at the crime scene… and that was only a slim ‘maybe’. You’re still just an undergrad”, he reminded you, much to your dismay as you puffed your cheeks.

But seriously, Choso thought, even the incompetent local police would have enough sense not to let you on the crime scene dressed as you are now, even if you were a PhD student. 

“Awe no fair,” you whine dejectedly. “But you should go, Cho! Then you can tell me all about it! Pleaseeee, I’m dying to know what a Ghostface crime scene looks like. I hear it’s kinda gruesome!”

You gazed up at Choso through fluttering long lashes as you poked out your cherry glossed lips. It was a pout that could famously leave any frat boy at your mercy, but it never seemed to stir Choso much (that you could tell at least).

Choso swallowed. 

On the contrary, your charms worked rather well on him. His mouth was dry and he unconsciously clenched and unclenched a sweat ridden palm behind his back. 

The hell were you doing being this excited over a crime scene? One of his crime scenes for that matter? 

Choso really didn’t know what to make of that.

“Y/N it’s late. I still have papers to grade. I’m going back to my dorm now and you should get home too,” Choso said flatly, trying to keep his cool although fatigue was etched into his voice.

He was in peak physical form but still feeling the strain given he just chased his last victim all over the Social Sciences building. Not to mention still having assignments to grade. All which would be fine if he also wasn’t on edge from you right now as well.

“Booooo…Choso yo– ahchoo!” You sneezed from the cold. 

The effects of alcohol could only do so much to keep you warm in these low temperatures while you were standing still. 

With another sigh Choso unzipped his black track jacket, taking it off and putting it around your shoulders. 

He was doing so as much for your sake as his own. Choso couldn’t help but notice your boobs looking like they were going to pop out of your flimsy sailor bra at any moment when you folded your arms underneath them for warmth.

He was really doing his best to maintain eye contact with you.

“Awe thanks Cho, you’re so chivalrous!” You giggled, blushing as you snuggled into his jacket. 

You could still feel his body heat lingering on the material but the heady scent of oak and sandwood from his cologne warmed you even more.

You also couldn’t help but stare as the black compression turtleneck he wore underneath clung to his body like a second skin. You had suspicions he was fit but you never saw him wear anything beyond his dark colored button ups and shaggy sweaters when in class. 

“Now go home, Y/N. You shouldn’t even be out here alone this late.” 

Choso’s stern voice snapped you out of your ogling.

“But I’m not alone silly!” 

You pointed to the group of scared and shivering freshmen girls also in various states of sparkly undress all for the sake of ‘getting nauti’ standing on a paved path not too far off. 

They looked absolutely miserable. 

“I have my pledges!” 

Choso gave you an incredulous look. You were too clueless. 

“So let me get this straight… You are drunk. You have drunk freshmen with you, who shouldn’t even be drinking in the first place…and you plan on taking them to a murder scene? Where the cops are?” You made an “OH” face and absentmindedly laughed as you came to the realization it probably wasn’t the best look for Chapter VP of the AKAs to take a bunch of drunk and terrified freshmen pledges straight into a recent crime scene. Even if you could put an academic spin on it as it was relevant to your major classes.

Yikes, and on second thought, your house mom would flip her entire shit if she found out.

“Go home Y/N,” Choso said again, shaking his head.

“Besides, you should be more focused on the Chemistry lab midterm on Monday. You know you can’t afford to fail.”

You sulked but relented, he was right. On both accounts.

As your T.A. for that class Choso knew better than anyone just how much your grade depended on passing that lab and you hadn’t even so much as glanced at your notes yet this week.

“Aye Aye, Capitan Choso, sir!” you teased giving him a salute with a wink and lifted knee, your sailor skirt lifting a bit higher.

It was a cute move, or it would have been at least if it hadn't caused your weight to shift all on to one foot. The heel of the sparkly red glitter pump baring your weight sunk into the patch of soft soil beneath you causing your foot to pop out of the shoe as you tumble forward. 

You would have definitely ate shit and embarrassed yourself in front of Choso, your pledges and whoever else was walking across the quad at this time of night if Choso’s quick reflexes didn’t catch you. 

You let out a squeak and waved your arms as you fell tits first onto Choso’s hard chest. 

Shit. 

Choso could feel your hardened nipples pressing against him through the flimsyass costume you wore. He tried hard to focus on how cold it was outside. Anything rather than how warm your body felt up against him or how his biceps tensed from the tight grip of your delicate fingers that sought stability from him.

You grinned sheepishly. You thanked him for catching you not realizing the position you were in nor the torment you were putting this man through.

Setting you upright quickly, Choso crouched down to retrieve your shoe. 

His plan was to simply place it near your foot but he felt your hand land on his shoulder and you raised your dainty foot up expectantly.

Any attempts to avert his gaze proved futile as Choso couldn’t stop his eyes from traveling up the length of your leg. 

Your opaque white stockings practically glowed in the darkness illuminating the shapely calves it covered and thick thighs the tight material cut into. Your hips strained against your garters up until your –he caught himself and his eyes snapped up immediately.

He was a killer, not a perv at least he was trying not to be.

Gingerly making sure to only touch your ankle, you were giggling again as he put your shoe on your foot and placed it on the grass again.

“Thanks Choso! You really are a lifesaver, ya know! I can’t bend down in this skirt.”

“Don’t mention it.” Choso quickly replied, pushing his bangs out of his face in exasperation. 

Really don’t. 

Choso was trying to forget the flash of red lace he saw that barely covered your plump pu– No he had to stop, you were technically his student even if he was just a T.A.

He would surely have to kill you if he popped a boner right now. He was trying to keep a low profile already and did not need to add ‘sexual deviant' to his name from a student harassment claim.

“For real now, go home Y/N.” Choso silently pleaded you would just listen this time. 

He always felt more compulsive right after a kill and didn’t know what he would do if you stayed around him like this much longer.

You finally relented to his relief, nodding and mumbling a sad little goodnight pulling his jacket around your shoulders tighter as you turned to leave back to your pledges. 

Choso started to leave as well but your voice stopped him as you looked at him over your shoulder.

“You know Choso…” You smoothed your skirt down behind you and flashed him a pageant winning smile, “I don’t mind that you saw them.”

Before Choso’s short-circuiting brain could even process what you said you were bouncing off back to your pledges. “Okay ladies, now make like Bey and get in formation! Back to the Soro house!” 

Your pledges erupted with various replies from– 

‘Thank God!’’ 

‘Did you just go over there to steal that nerd’s jacket? Boss!’’

‘Was that your boyfriend, Y/N?’

‘Y/N’s bf is a starter on the football team, she doesn’t want that weird emo dork.’

‘No, sis did you see his muscles– That emo look is still kinda hot right now, huh Y/N?’ 

‘Awe, but I want to go back to the frat!’ 

–all fluttered from the group of chattering girls as you cheerily led them back to the Sorority house. 

You laughed at their comments hoping Choso couldn’t hear them though, as they were a bit embarrassing. 

Unfortunately for the both of you, there was no way for Choso not to hear your rowdy group of drunk giggling girls, he’s sure the whole quad did. 

Choso rolled his eyes as a chill took over him as he started the jog back to his dorms. 

He was glad he had given you his jacket though. The way his body had started to respond to you just now the frigid jog back to the dorms would do him good. 

He just wanted to shower, grade a few papers then go to bed, he didn’t want to end up fisting his cock to you again tonight. 

You had plagued his peace for too long. It wouldn’t do him any good to think of you, it’s not like he could ever have you. 

Sure you went to the same university but you might as well have been from two different worlds. 

You were a popular sorority undergrad with the attention of virtually the entire male population on campus. 

Choso was a PhD student who was used to fading in the background, most avoided him due his looks and academic focus anyway. 

He only had an affiliation with you because his scholarships were tied to being a T.A. for undergrad forensics classes. 

Also you did have a boyfriend. 

An asshole neanderthal football-wide-receiver boyfriend who he would have been tempted to kill already had he not served his own purpose as a reality check and barrier for Choso.

Oh and had an eccentric obsession with blood going for him and was also the Ghostface copycat killer, that too. 

He was sure that would go over well with you, Choso mused sarcastically.

☠

Upon returning to his dorm Choso took a shower, graded papers and tried to fall asleep but inevitably jerked his cock off to you.

Twice. 

The sounds and images of your ditzy little laugh and skippy little panties consumed him as soon as he closed his eyes. The phantom feeling of the way your nipples felt pressed against his chest and how you clung to him desperately had him feeling near insatiable. 

Choso admittedly thinks of killing you often. Just to get some peace of mind.

It wouldn’t be difficult at all to pull off. It’s not like you could put up much of a fight against him.

He didn’t want to break his rule of killing anyone with a connection to him but Choso had also never had anyone stir him the way you did. 

You were a distraction and liability to him. If he killed you he could finally stop thinking about you…right?

You would make a beautiful death painting too.

Choso imagines thick red blood splattered across your curves. 

The fatal gash from the femoral artery in your thigh oozing out a continuous stream of blood. The cut would have to be considerably deep too considering how meaty your thighs were. 

Would the blood streak down your long leg as you desperately tried to hobble away from him in your slutty red heels?

Or would you collapse in fear and surrender to him fully? Landing in such a way that allowed the blood to redirect backwards and soil the flimsy red panties poorly concealing the fat of your cunt as you cried out in fear.

Fuck. 

He was hard again. 

He reached over to his night stand for his lotion bottle– practically empty thanks to his nonstop fantasies of you.

God, he was pathetic.

☠

The school week that followed was relatively uneventful. 

You passed your lab midterms much to Choso’s surprise. Although you always seemed to pass with a relatively decent grade despite how you struggled to get there. Holding firm to your B average in the class and 3.3 GPA in your major overall.

He had to admit you were a better student than he originally gave you credit for. It makes him recall when he first saw you last spring. 

You were a late enroll to Forensic Biology 101. Not only that, you burst into the third class of the semester nearly 15 minutes late.

Oblivious to all the eyes your disruption earned, you leaned on your knees as your chest heaved from exertion giving the entire class an amazing view of your tits spilling from your pink crop top adorned with the prestigious “AKA” sorority. 

You definitely would have given the class an additional show from bending over in your tight green jean skirt had your ass not been facing the door. Choso eyes couldn't help but travel down the length of your legs, your glossy white painted toes peeking out strappy pink pumps. 

You smiled brightly once you caught your breath and apologized for your late entrance but you were newly voted chapter vice president and had just come from your first meeting. 

Surely you had the wrong classroom.

“Er– this class is Forensic Biology 101 young lady.” The older male professor had given you a once over also thinking you must be lost.

“Mhm, yup! I’m Y/N! I just changed my major!” you beamed and handed the professor your schedule.

He looked at it and back at you twice.

“Hm, well so it is…but you are already behind, little lady. Go and take a seat next to the T.A. in the back, Choso Kamo, he will catch you up.”

Just his luck. Choso didn’t want to babysit some sorority bimbo who would probably drop this class in two weeks once the labs started. 

Your university was famous for the forensics program. If you graduated you were all but guaranteed a job at a prominent lab in a major city but more than two thirds of undergrad students dropped it once the rigorous labs began. 

You didn’t look like you would last.

Especially when you told him your interest in forensics came from watching Dexter. You told him how you thought the actor was hott and how his kill rooms were ‘so cool.’ Choso definitely rolled his eyes at that and wrote you off as a soon-to-be drop out.

You proved him wrong though. 

You were a bit of a ditz and a huge clutz but Choso came to understand t's more because you had about a billion different things going on in your head at once rather than you just being dumb or careless. 

You were also a hard worker. 

It was admirable how many activities you were involved in yet still tried as hard as you did in your classes. You always came to his T.A. review sessions and even sought him out at times while he was in the research library to ask him questions. 

You were a good student and he was a horrible T.A. for even thinking of you in this way. 

The campus bell tower struck noon in the distance and Choso looked down to see that he had only read a single paragraph since he sat down to study thirty minutes ago.

Fuck, he had lost himself in thinking about you again. 

Choso put a hand over his face. 

He was sitting alone at a picnic table on the outer, less populated edges of the quad trying to read a textbook but every time he heard a high pitched giggle he snapped his head up thinking it was you.

Class schedules were a bit different due to midterms and he hadn’t seen you the entire week other than to administer the lab but that didn’t mean you didn’t still plague his thoughts more increasingly as of late.

It was making Choso a bit reckless. 

Needing to relieve stress he had created 2 more death paintings. A mistake as it was rumored the local police would soon reach out to bigger towns for more help and perhaps even the FBI would send an agent soon to campus if this kept up. 

He had to move more carefully. 

Maybe make it look like there were multiple Ghostface killers for starters.

“3 Victims, One Week: The Copycat Ghostface Reign of Terror Continues!” 

You read aloud adding a bit of dramatic flair to your voice as you recite the front headline of the campus paper and jar Choso from his thoughts of you. 

Speak of the devil.

You approached Choso at his table and he immediately noticed you were wearing his jacket again, well more like swimming in it as it was clearly too big for you.

This time though you were bundled up in a scarf, leggings and heeled booties. He was glad his face was already a bit red from sitting out in the cold because he couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts from forming that you looked even sexier cozied up and comfortable in his jacket than in the slutty sailor costume.

“I don’t know why you even bother reading that shit Y/N. They never have any interesting details anyway.” Choso tried to feign disinterest in your arrival but his leg was already slightly bouncing under the table, nervous energy returning.

“Well I have to! You wouldn’t go to the crime scene for me last Saturday, remember?”

How could he forget?  

However a part of him did want you to view it though, his masterpieces, his kills. 

See how glorious their blood looked sprayed on the walls, the ground, and the general surroundings of his victims. 

But he knew you’d never appreciate them the way he did even if you were a forensics student.

“Oh and sorry!” 

You interrupted his thoughts once again.

“I meant to give you back your jacket, I’ve been carrying it with me hoping I’d run into you but I ran out today and forgot mine…whoops! I hope you don’t mind me wearing yours a bit longer?”

Your saccharine smile has Choso sucking in a hard breath. 

At this point he would prefer you to just keep it, he couldn’t trust himself if he had it back with your scent all over it knowing you had been carrying it around all week.

He would never know any peace.

“Keep it as long as you need.”

“Kay!”

You smile at him as you haphazardly plop your overstuffed tote bag down next to him, which of course spilled all its colorful contents all over the table. 

“Oh Crap!” 

You lean over to reach for your bag but almost spill the tray of hot coffees in your hand.

“Y/N, Watch out!” 

Choso grabbed the tray before it could spill all over his and your belongings and sat it down on the table with a small exhale.

“Oh! Thank you!” You flash him a big grin. “I got this one for you!” 

You handed him a grande cup with ‘pumpkin spice dirty chai’ scribbled on it.

Choso preferred his coffee black and he has definitely told you that before but you always just brought him whatever sugary drink you ordered saying he needed to ‘try new things’. 

He wasn’t about to turn you down though, caffeine was caffeine and as a PhD student he needed all he could get. Choso also knew it was your way of thanking him for helping you so much in forensics.  

“Thanks...” Choso mumbled taking a sip. Shit this is actually good.

You sat down next to him, a little too close for comfort with your spandex clad thigh brushing up against his leg.

“Whatcha reading? Is it for your thesis?” You were perilously close leaning on him as you looked over his broad shoulder onto his textbook.

“Yeah, some forensics texts I need to review for citations. This section focuses on serology and bloodstain pattern analysis,” Choso stated knowledgably. 

“Oh! Like in Dexter!” 

“Yeah, Y/N, like in Dexter.” 

Maybe Choso is growing a bit soft as he can’t resist but to crack a small smile at your kid-like-enthusiasm for the subject, you were incorrigible. 

Choso also doesn’t miss the way your eyes sparkle when you ask him to tell you more about his research. 

And so he does.

Sometimes Choso forgets how easy you are to talk on the subject. To be frank no one outside his own PHD program ever asks him about his thesis so before he realizes it he’s letting his guard down to indulge you.

You both get so lost in the conversation to the point it hasn’t even phased Choso yet that you are now actually leaning on him. 

Your soft cheek rests near his shoulder and your body angles deeper into his as you point to ask him about a passage on the page which he begins to break down.  

You try to focus on his words but in the midst of Choso’s explanation your eyes stray from the text up to his face. 

You feel your body start to warm.You always thought he was attractive. His dark looks never deterred you if anything they were refreshing from the crew cut preppy jocks around you. Even more so with his piercings in.

Choso never wore any of his piercings during classes or while in the research library. You counted six facial piercings in total from the three on his brows to the septum, labret and finally the black bar piercing through his tongue that darted out exposed with the movements of his mouth. 

Studying him further you discover for the first time his tattoo across the bridge of his nose was actually covering a scar. It looked old but like it had been deep. 

You couldn’t help but wonder if it had hurt him and why he chose to cover it. 

You didn’t even realize you had reached out to touch it until you felt his gaze snap to you. 

Stunned and a bit embarrassed, you withdraw your hand.

“Ah, sorry I just noticed your tattoo was covering a scar…” you trailed off hoping he wouldn’t be annoyed with you.

Annoyance was the last thing on Choso’s mind as finally registered how you had melded yourself into his side body. 

Although his usual reaction would be to withdraw back, you might as well have him chained down to the table now as he was practically immobilized by you not even being able to look away. 

“Uh, yeah it happened years ago when I was a kid...I fell off the monkey bars, there was a lot of blood.” 

No one had even recognized it since Choso had it covered years ago. You were the first.

“Oh no! I loved the monkey bars, we used to climb up on them all the time when I was little. I guess those things are kinda dangerous huh? Actually, I’m kinda shocked I never fell, a miracle right?” 

You laughed and Choso found himself smiling at you again. 

You were too accident prone so it really was a miracle. 

“Yeah, good thing you never fell Y/N… It would be a shame to have to get a big ugly tattoo on that cute face.” 

Choso swore on his life those last words only were said in his head but from the way your eyes widened he knew he fucked up.

“I- that is.. I meant-”

Choso smacked a hand over his face. He can’t believe he just said that out loud to you. He was really losing it. 

“So you think I’m cute?” you teased giggling. You angled your head so you could look up at him from underneath his hand.

“Yeah, about as cute as the blood splatter diagram on this page.” he teased you back. A small smirk on his features as he peeked at you through his fingers.

“Hey!” 

Choso chuckled. Little did you know he actually paid you a huge compliment comparing you to something he thought so alluring as blood.

You grab the hand covering his face as your smile widens and you playfully struggle with Choso. 

You don’t become aware of your close proximity until you almost bump noses.

Choso locks eyes with you and you feel your tummy tighten as you bite your lip. 

You’re still holding his hand and after a while you work up the courage as your other hand comes up to touch his face. 

“Your tattoo isn’t ugly Choso,” you breathe out softly.

Choso closes his eyes as you trace the scar beneath his tattoo. 

You weren’t sure what you were doing but your hand involuntarily begins to travel across his face and his piercings until they graze over his lips and he opens his eyes again.  

Startled by the sudden hungry look in his eyes you pull back your hand but he captures it in his own, him being the one to trap you this time.

If either one of you just moved even an inch forward your lips would touch. You see Choso’s lips part when–

“Yo! Hands off my girl, freakshow!” 

“Dean!?” You pulled back out of Choso’s embrace, floored to see your boyfriend and some more of his football buddies heading towards you as you knew they still should have been at practice around this time.

“Oooh he’s in for it now messin’ with Dean’s girl.” Dean’s football friends snickered.

Choso audibly breathes out in exasperation. The moment was ruined and he really didn’t have the patience to deal with your neanderthal boyfriend and his football lackeys who all shared a singular brain cell. 

Didn’t they have a ball or something to chase?

“Uh hey, Dean I..” 

You stop yourself when it’s clear Dean is ignoring you entirely as he approaches the table. Not even looking your way to greet you. 

His aura oozes faux tough guy bully and walks straight up to Choso to size him up leaning on the table to tower over him.

“I’m talking to you, freak. You think you can put your hands on what belongs to me?”

Choso doesn’t look up at him but his grip instinctively tightens on the pen in his hand under the table as if it was Ghostface’s hunting knife. 

Dean’s show of bravado going ignored by Choso pisses him off even more that his teammates are with him and the tough guy act is failing to have any real effect. 

Tch. 

With a swift movement Dean knocks Choso’s coffee over on the table, its half drunken contents falling on both you, Choso and his books. 

This has Choso rising out of his seat as he thinks your boyfriend must have an unknown death wish.

Choso’s pen is still in his grasp but by his side now. It would be too easy to drive it into Dean’s neck before the dolt even knew what hit him. A bit extreme, but it could be considered an unfortunate accident of self defense if Dean struck first.

Fortunately, you stepped in between the two in order to diffuse the situation without picking up on Choso’s murderous intent. 

You chewed your lip. This was low key, your fault. You technically were dating Dean. Although Dean was always the furthest thing from your mind when you were around Choso. 

You didn’t even feel guilty for being caught as you’ve had your own suspicions for a while Dean had been cheating on you anyway, you just couldn’t prove it. You were still dating him more out of convenience than anything else, other jocks and frat boys left you alone knowing you were with him.

The only guilt you actually did feel was for Choso. This wasn’t his problem or relationship but of course Dean was a big enough asshole to make this into an actual issue with Choso since it was becoming clearer how little respect he had for you.

“Dean, what the hell is your problem!? You got coffee everywhere, this isn’t even my jacket.” 

“Don’t what the hell me Y/N, you're so fucking dumb you’re going to let this freak get in your pants when– wait you’re wearing fucking his jacket!?” 

Dean was yelling now and a small crowd was forming and starting to take out their phones to record. 

You could not let this turn into an incident.

“Dean chill the entire fuck out, would you?! It was cold, so he let me borrow it– He’s just my T.A.”

A wave of harsh realization washed over Choso. 

Just her T.A.

Right.

Choso is no one important to you, especially with your football boyfriend and social standing on the line.

He’d let whatever the fuck almost happened between the two you just now make him forget that. 

Not anymore.

“That’s right. I’m just her T.A. So if you’ll excuse me.” 

Choso turned from you both to salvage what he could of his books and leave.

You couldn’t place the emotions in Choso’s words and it made your chest tighten up. But you weren’t trying to write him or your almost-kiss off. 

You didn’t mean for it to come out that way but you really lacked the proper words in these kinds of situations.

“Where do you think you’re going, loser?”

Dean grabbed Choso’s shoulder but the intense murderous look in his eyes made Dean release him just as quickly as if he had been burned. 

Even his football goon friends unconsciously took a few steps back feeling the very real threat in Choso’s eyes. 

Choso smirked as he left. Thought so. 

“W-wait Cho–”  

You want to stop him but feel Dean’s rough grip on your wrists.

“Whatever, let’s fucking go Y/N. We have an important party to throw later.” 

Dean grabs your wrist and jerks you away with you barely being able to grab your bag. 

Your stomach twists and you are at a complete loss for words but manage to flash an apologetic look at Choso while you are dragged off. 

However when your eyes meet he looks right through you.

The expression on his face is stone cold and it sends a chill up your spine.

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ

A/N: I promise it won't take as long for the second part to come out. I'm half way done with it already! I was just going to wait and post it all together but a like 12k+ word post all at once would be insane lmfao. After I am finished with this prompt the next 3 stories I will do will be from Thrilling Ghouls as they are all much shorter PWPs in the 3-5k range and I won't have to stress so much since I'm realizing all my Smooth Criminal prompts are longer fics and it takes me like a week or more to write them.

ღTaglistღ: @callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @akaza-simp01 @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @samicamy-13

comment on m.list to be tagged in future Kinktober '23 stories

Reblog for Ghostface!Choso to come steal your panties although comments and likes are appreciated all the same!

PART 2

[saekkas]

Could you do prompt 9 with Kaiser please with a big, shiny, juicy cherry on top

prompt: "kiss. now." tags: f!reader, established relationship, pouty kaiser, spoiled kaiser, fluffy kaiser, whiny kaiser. note: anon, because of this request, i am in dire need of a kaiser. pls. just one.

"why do you keep throwing tantrums?" you sigh, looking at your pouty baby of a boyfriend who's been glaring at his cup of gelato like it might be the start of a plague. "we can't fix it if you won't say what the problem is."

you sigh again, rolling your eyes when his glare moves to your innocent cup of gelato.

"my incredibly handsome, amazingly talented, and spectacularly wealthy boyfriend," you sigh out in a perky tone, cringing at yourself for the words. "i can't fix it if you won't tell me what's wrong. so please, baby, enlighten me."

kaiser's lips twitch, a small smile appearing that brightens his whole visage. you have to keep a snort to yourself, knowing just how much your lover loves to be complimented and babied.

"oh?" the smile stays on his face, molding into a grin as he leans his head on his hand. the tip of kaiser's ears turn red, the nape of his neck warm. "so now you finally call me baby?"

you blink, wondering what he means.

"oh, don't play dumb." the blush stays on kaiser's face even when he scowls, almost like a cat who got drenched in water. "you haven't called me baby all day. what is wrong with you?"

"is that what this is about, baby?" you coo, pouting in a way that's both mocking and sweet. a trick you specifically learned from him. "is my pretty baby upset about that? i'm sorry. i should've paid more attention to my baby."

kaiser scowls, an ugly expression that becomes so entirely pretty because it's his. "i want an apology," he grumbles, crossing his hands in front of his chest. "kiss. now."

you lean into him, placing a hand on the side of his neck, your finger trailing his rose tattoo. even with your eyes closed, you remember its distinct shape.

when you lean away, the red on his skin has turned into a full-blown blush. your lover closely resembles a tomato with how red he's become. he glares even when there's no real heat in his eyes, his mouth pressed into a pout. you can only giggle, deciding that he's pretty cute when he's blushing like that.

[positively-mine]

You're a girl?!

how they find out and their reactions

tags: afab (female anatomy, periods), slight book 4 spoilers, lmk if there's anything else

a/n: sorry this took forever, school got the best of me again 😞, follower event dropping first followed by pomefiore

Series: ❤️ 🧡 🩵 💛 💜 💙 💚

Jamil

Was listening to some juicy gossip in the kitchen while preparing something for kalim. One of the students mentioned about a rumour that the ramshackle prefect was a girl but the other student was quick to dismiss it. Once you go to NRC, one thing you'll learn is that you never judge a book by its cover. Fast forward to during his overblot(ing) period when he's locked you into your room. He's passing by to check up on you when he overhears you tell Grim that luckily you brought your bag with you, which has your extra pad in there. If you don't have periods, overhears you tell Grim that luckily it's not communal showers or how else were you going to explain your physical appearance (for the sake of convenience pls imagine it is 🙏)

Overblots and when you save the day again...he's kind of embarrassed to have shown that side. Overall not much changes, just that he treats you with more respect and less sarcasm when he responds to you. Hopefully you forget his past behavior. Fast.

Kalim

Similar to how Floyd finds out. This ball of sunshine literally runs up to you and tackles you into a hug. Usually it's from the back so he doesn't really notice. And the constant reminder from Jamil not to do that fly's right over his head. You're worried that one day he might find out but hopefully his obliviousness will save you. Until it doesn't. This time he runs up to you from the front and literally scoops you up into his arms. And then he feels something and stares up into your eyes in confusion. Poor boy doesn't know what's going on.

Now you're more worried about HIM letting it slip out. He acts super nervous and suspicious around you at first. Which prompts more people to look over in your direction. But once he gets used to it, he's less touchy. He wants to respect your space after all! But at times, he does forget and still pulls you into hugs. He's a ball of sunshine and a little awkward at times but know that he's trying his best 🙌

reblogs are appreciated!

[chrollohearttags]

had a few people ask for plug!connie again and I just cannot stop thinking: perc/high sex with him. 🤤🥴

cw: black fem!reader, spit play, backshots, drug use, insertion of drugs, use of slut, mama, baby, daddy, etc. he’s very sweet and attentive 🥺, finger sucking, oral sex, this is kinda freaky ngl, sorry y’all. Minors not welcomed.

.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*: .･*:｡.･*:｡.･

“Mmm…Connieeee..imma come..”

“C’mon, mama..put that ass in my face.”

the shrill cry escaping your pouty lips as you pressed your face into the mattress for what seemed to be the thousandth time tonight. Followed by a heavy handed slap to those round cheeks. It was the only way to quell those loud moans constantly pouring out. Due in part to the suction being felt against your very sensitive clit. Your man’s tongue flicking all and throughout that pretty pussy; folds being prodded by the tip of it and his face buried between your backside. He had you positioned all on fours and he was just the same..enamored with your scent, flavor and sex whilst he ate you out from behind. Something that had been taking place for nearly half an hour. He always did it for his pleasure and that alone. It didn’t matter if you shook, bucked against him or clawed at the pillows..he was going to have his fill!

“C’mere..” Connie declared as he grasped your ankle and tugged you back to the edge of the bed. His face sticky and completely dizzy from being in that position for so long. But that wasn’t the only thing that had his head spinning. Marijuana and percs pumping through his system from earlier activities but he was on cloud nine for a whole other reason. The scent of your sweet cunt and juicy slick fresh on his nostrils; ready to devour you whole. Gripping the fat of your cheeks, he’d part them and press him thumb to the puckering hole; spasming and collapsing on the air. But he had just the thing to suffice that need.. “..I know, baby..I know what you need..” his groggy voice ringing within earshot as you were busy letting out subtle moans of your own. Connie’s fingers subtly rubbing on your very sensitive clit. In a baggy next to him on the mattress, Connie would reach over and retrieve a small white pill. This wasn’t the first time that the two of you had partaken in these types of activities. Taking drugs to increase the duration and excitement of your sex. You would go rounds off of these, fucking each other absolutely dumb and tonight would be no different. “This gon’ get you right..have you creaming all over this dick…my pretty lil’ baby..” cooing as he cupped that white tablet and spun your head around. He’d then raise his thumb to your lips; parting them as he allowed you to suckle on it. “Mmmhm, yeah, daddy…” Those big brown eyes doe-like and driving him crazy. That drool seeping from your mouth and head nodding an indicator of how drunk you were off of him already and he could do nothing more than smile..knowing that the best was yet to come. “Yeah…you ready f’r me, mama..I know it’s ‘bout to feel so fucking good.” It was then that your boyfriend prompted you to pull apart your thick ass, splaying those freshly done nails across your beautiful skin. Connie grasped at his shaft, pumping it in his palm and casually sliding into you. Your legs already trembling before he even placed the tip in. “Ooh..fuck.” And simultaneously, he was pushing that pill into your puckering hole, which made (y/n) break into a dumbed out expression already. Even laughing as you tried to get accustomed to that new sensation. Reminiscent of many of his feigns getting their first fix when they came to acquire their drug of choice. One that would overtook your body in mere seconds and mesh with his own. Pressing a palm to the center of your spine, Connie forced an arch and prepared to start moving. Sucking his teeth in the process. “Lemme have that pussy, baby..can’t believe you letting me slut you like this..” laughing as he watched your facial expression shift in a matter of minutes and begin to give you the pleasure you deserved. Getting you drunk off of his dick and high on his supply.

“But I promise imma make you feel better than you ever have..”

[suiana]

firstly I would like to thank you for feeding the horny goblin in me, now I've come back for more janitor shit and I had the dumbest prompt in mind! I don't know if you've seen White Chicks, specifically the beach scene ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) look it up if u haven't seen it but PICTURE IT:

dumb shy ready is walking along the halls doing something, doesn't see the wet floor sign and slips, on the floor like a starfish and dizzy from the impact; janitor comes and stands over them, reader's vision is blurry at first so they don't realize his junk is all up in their face (cause I imagine he's packing both ways 👀) - I will use this excuse as he's helping us up to cop a feel of his cake, I bet its heavy and I'd need both hands to hold one cheek AAHHHHHHH---

I will pay you to let me touch the butt

P L E A S E

"ugh... my head..."

you grumble, eyes still half shut. what even happened..? you were just walking, trying to get to class... your hands reach up to your face, trying to rub them only to realise that 'hey, it's kinda dark'.

your eyes immediately shoot open, wanting to figure out why it was so dark but to your horror, your crush was hovering over you. with his grey sweatpants... and... prominent bulge....

"shit- ah you're awake! I'm so glad!"

he murmurs, bending down as his worried face comes close to yours. his relieved sighs of relief help him to forget why he was so panicked in the first place. thank goodness you were alright! he'd never forgive himself if his lovely sweetheart died because of wet floor!

but to you, all you could focus on was how his round, plump and juicy ass was just mere centimetres away from you.

'i could touch it...'

devious thoughts swirled through your head as you completely ignored the janitor and his thankful prayers to god. your eyes were blank, filled with silly thoughts as you reached your hand out and...

"my ass- wait are you..."

time slows as you grope and squish the janitor's ass, totally mesmerized with the feeling of it. you didn't stop, no. not even when the janitor tried to tap you lightly with his shaky hands. you were far too lost in the amazing feeling of his juicy ass. only when soft moans flowed like music into your ears did you truly snap out of your drunken stupor.

your hands immediately retract back as your cheeks rush with blood.

"I-I'm so sorry!"

you gasp out, trying to excuse your pervertic actions. but to the older man whose cheeks were flushed, eyes hazy with lust, no excuse would ever be enough.

you tried wiggling away, to escape as usual. however this time, the janitor had the upper hand. he plopped himself down on your hips, toned arms crossed over his chest as he smirks.

internally you were screaming. but on the outside you were only babbling nonsense, trying to comprehend what was going on. what was the janitor doing?! was he mad?! no no no! your chances of being with him had to be in the negatives now!

...was what you thought until the janitor leaned forward, hands beside your head as his... man thing poked you.

"didn't know you were into me too... ah today really is a good day. thought you were scared of me or something..."

he hummed as his lips grazed yours. shit?! what the fuck was going on?!

"now... could you please touch me and finish what you started? consider this punishment for making me worried."

[hd-junglebook]

Falling For It

Part 2

word count - 2,404

Prev ... Next

Side note - Y'all are eating this damn fic up. 120 likes in two days is crazy and I appreciate all of you for being obsessed with the same man as me <3 Enjoy queens !!

After the night out, Y/n and friends went out the next morning for coffee planning to nurse their hangovers with some girl talk.

Rain tapped against the windows of the cozy coffee shop as Lexi, Angie, and Heather animatedly recounted their encounters with the hockey players, their voices rising with excitement as they relived the thrilling moments.

Y/N leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed loosely over her chest as she listened to her friends' stories, a thoughtful expression playing across her features.

"He was so dreamy," Lexi gushed, her eyes sparkling as she described her conversation with one of the players. "And did you see the way Quinn smiled at me? I swear, I almost melted on the spot."

Angie nodded in agreement, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "I know, right? It was like something out of a romance novel. I could barely keep it together with Jesper.”

Heather, turned the conversation to Y/N. "I noticed you've been pretty quiet about the boys," she said with a mischievous laugh. “Someone on your mind?” she probed teasingly.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her mind drifting back to her encounter with Jack at work. She took a deep breath before finally admitting,

“Well since you begged me so nicely. Maybe there is someone,” she admitted, fingers tracing absent-minded patterns on the surface of her coffee cup.

Heather's eyes lit up with excitement, her curiosity piqued. "Ooh, spill the tea, girl!" she exclaimed, wiggling her eyebrows eagerly. "We need all the juicy details."

"Well, there is this guy I met at work, but..." She trailed off, uncertainty clouding her expression. Lexi leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with curiosity, while Angie and Heather exchanged knowing glances, their expressions sympathetic. "But what?" Lexi prompted.

Y/N sighed softly, her gaze dropping to her coffee cup as she wrestled with her thoughts. Rain continued to drum against the windows, a steady rhythm that mirrored the steady beat of her heart.

"He was really cute, like, ridiculously cute," she continued, a sheepish smile playing on her lips.

"But, I don't know, he just seemed like a player, you know All charm and no substance. I didn't want to get involved with someone like that, so I shut him down."

Her friends groaned in disappointment. Y/N shrugged, a pang of regret tugging at her heart. "I don't know, maybe I overreacted," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But it's better to be safe than sorry, right?”

Her friends exchanged surprised glances, clearly taken aback by Y/N's revelation. But after a moment of silence, they nodded in understanding, offering words of support and encouragement.

Angie reached out to squeeze her hand in a gesture of support, while Heather offered a sympathetic smile.

Angie suddenly let out a high-pitched squeal, causing Y/N pull away and instinctively cover her ears in surprise. The sound pierced through the air, leaving her momentarily stunned at Angie's unexpected display of excitement. “Damn girl, relax!” y/n exclaimed back. 

Angie, her eyes sparkling with glee, waved her phone in the air triumphantly. "It's Jesper!" she exclaimed, her grin stretching from ear to ear. "He just asked me out on a date!"

…

The week had flown by in a whirlwind of work and routine for Y/N, but now it was finally Saturday—the day of the hockey game she and her friends had been eagerly anticipating.

As she made her way home from work, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building in the pit of her stomach.

Once home, Y/N wasted no time in tidying up her apartment, she set about lighting a few scented candles and fluffing up the cushions on her couch, all the while accompanied by her faithful feline companion, Hugo, who lounged lazily nearby.

she settled onto the couch with a bowl of popcorn and her favorite blanket draped over her lap, Y/N's phone buzzed with a notification from the group chat. She glanced down at the screen, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she read their excited messages about the upcoming game.

"Hey bitches, don't forget, the game is at 7 tonight!" Lexi's message read. "We need to meet Quinn at the back of the stadium to get in. Can't wait to see you all there!"

With a contented sigh, Y/N leaned back against the cushions, her gaze drifting to the television screen as she queued up an episode of "The 100." It was the perfect way to pass the time until it was time to start getting ready for the game.

The drama unfolds onscreen, Y/N felt herself relaxing into the familiar rhythms of the show, the tension of the week melting away with each passing minute.

But just as she was getting caught up in the action, her phone buzzed again. Y/N glanced down at her phone again, confusion crossing her face as she noticed a new message from an unsaved number.

Frowning in confusion, Y/N set her bowl of popcorn aside and picked up her phone, her heart rate quickening as she read the cryptic message that flashed across the screen.

‘I hope you're happy with what you've done. You might think you've won, but remember, everything has a way of coming back around.’

For a moment, she felt a shiver of unease run down her spine, but she quickly shook it off as a prank and tossed her phone back onto the coffee table.

Refusing to let the strange message ruin her mood, Y/N pushed the unsettling thought to the back of her mind and focused instead on heading to the bathroom to freshen up and prepare for what promised to be an exciting evening ahead.

…

The train rattled along the tracks, carrying Y/N to the Prudential Center, the crisp fall air nipped at her cheeks as she stepped off the train. Y/N followed the gps towards the back of the stadium, her breath forming small clouds in the chilly air.

The sight of the towering arena ahead sent a thrill of anticipation down her spine, and she quickened her pace to reach the group.

Her friends shrieked with excitement as they caught sight of her, she was relieved to see them and eagerly joined in on their chatter, trying to forget about the strange text she had received. Lexi, Angie, Heather, and Y/N followed Quinn inside nearly bowling over Quinn in their haste to escape the cold.

Laughter filled the air as they huddled together, eager to find refuge inside of the arena. Their footsteps echoed in the empty corridors as they made their way toward the stands.

Y/N couldn't help but be awestruck by the sight that greeted them. The vast expanse of the arena stretched out before them, the ice glistening under the bright lights as the hockey players practiced their moves with precision and grace.

"Wow, it's so quiet in here," Angie remarked, her voice hushed in awe as they entered the arena. "I've never been to a game this early before."

Y/N nodded in agreement as they approached the glass overlooking the rink. Quinn grinned at her excitement, gesturing towards the action on the ice. "Wait until you see them in action," she said, her voice filled with pride. "My brother is really good, I should introduce you after the game."

With Quinn leading the way, they made their way to their seats towards their reserved suite at the top of the stadium.

The sound of skates slicing through the ice echoed through the arena, punctuated by the occasional thud of a puck hitting the net. Quinn pointed out some of the star players as they effortlessly executed maneuvers.

Lexi wasted no time in engaging Quinn in playful banter, her flirtatious antics earning a chuckle from Y/N as she watched the scene unfold. The two teased each other mercilessly, their laughter blending with the hum of conversation around them.

Just as the announcements ceased and the players took to the ice, Quinn's voice rang out from behind her, drawing their attention to the jumbo screen overhead. "That's my brother," he exclaimed, her voice tinged with pride as he pointed to the live image of Jack Hughes, the player Y/N had met at work.

A gasp escaped her lips, barely audible over the roar of the crowd, as she sank down in her seat, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

She couldn't believe her luck—or rather, her lack thereof. Of all the places to run into Jack again, why did it have to be here, at a hockey game, with her friends by her side?

The puck dropped, and the players hit the ice with a burst of speed, Y/n's eyes followed the action on the ice, her pulse quickening with each passing moment as the Devils and the Krakens battled it out on the rink.

"Wow, they're really going at it," Lexi exclaimed, her eyes glued to the players as they executed intricate maneuvers with ease. "It's like watching a bunch of rats chase after food."

"Isn't he amazing?" Quinn gushed, oblivious to Y/N's inner turmoil. "He's playing so well this season." Y/N forced a smile, murmuring praise through gritted teeth. Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sight of Jack on the screen, his familiar face.

The sound of the horn blaring through the arena cut off their conversation abruptly, the deafening noise signaling the Devils' goal and igniting a frenzy of cheers and applause from the crowd.

Y/N's friends were swept up in the excitement, their voices blending with the roar of the crowd as they celebrated the team's success.

But for Y/N, the shock of seeing Jack on the ice lingered in the back of her mind, casting a shadow over the euphoria of the moment. As the buzzer sounded for intermission, her friends turned to her with concerned looks, their questions hanging in the air.

Before she could even begin to explain, Heather let out a chuckle, nudging her playfully. "That's the guy, isn't it?" she teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement as y/n nodded. "Looks like fate has a funny way of messing with you."

Y/N rolled her eyes at her friend's teasing, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite herself. "Yeah, it's like the universe has a twisted sense of humor," she replied dryly, shaking her head in disbelief. "Guess I should've brought a disguise or something." 

…

They exited the suite, Quinn practically bounced up and down in excitement, her energy infectious as she addressed the group. "Do you guys wanna come with me to the after-party? The boys want to head to this bar by the beach."

Before Y/N could even respond, the other girls screamed "Yes!" in unison, their excitement matching Quinn's enthusiasm. "Absolutely!" Lexi chimed in. "I'm ready to get fucked up!" A hearty laugh bubbled up from Quinn's lips at their unanimous response, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

The ride to the bar was short but filled with chatter and laughter, the anticipation of the evening ahead palpable in the air. they piled out of the vehicle and made their way down the steps to the entrance, Y/N couldn't help but feel a rush of giddiness coursing through her veins.

Sounds of laughter and music mingling with the clinking of glasses and the hum of conversation. The players moved around in a jovial stupor, shouting greetings and exchanging high-fives as the girls made their way through the crowd. She scanned the crowded room, her eyes searching for one familiar face amidst the sea of strangers.

And then she saw him.

Jack stood in an adjacent room, his fluffy brown hair caught the dim light of the room, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline and the soft curve of his lips. Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat as she watched him, her pulse quickening with every step she took.

With each stride, she could feel her confidence growing, her nerves slowly melting away. She threaded her way through the crowd, her gaze fixed on Jack as she approached.

As y/n drew closer, she noticed Jack engrossed in a game of pool, his focus laser-sharp as he lined up his shot. Y/N couldn't help but smile to herself at the sight, her heart thrumming against her chest drowning out the music.

She crept up behind him, the sound of her footsteps lost amidst the din of the bar. Standing on the tips of her toes, she leaned in close, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "Hi, stranger."

Her voice was soft, barely a whisper, but it cut through the noise of the room like a knife. She watched with bated breath as Jack's shoulders tensed, his grip on the pool cue tightening ever so slightly. Slowly, Jack turned to face her, his expression a mixture of surprise and intrigue.

Y/N held her breath at his response. He turned to face Y/N, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that she couldn’t understand. For a brief moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their own little bubble of existence.

This was her chance, her moment to make a lasting impression on the man who was slowly capturing her mind from the moment she first laid eyes on him.

"Well look who it is," Jack finally replied, his voice low and husky as he returned her greeting. There was a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips, a glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes as he studied her, glancing down to the dress that clung to her body.

She took a step closer placing her hands on her hips, closing the distance between them until there was barely a few inches of space separating their bodies. "I couldn't resist saying hello when I saw you here," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Fate works in mysterious ways, doesn't it?"

Jack's smile widened at her words, "It certainly does," he agreed, his tone tinged with a hint of intrigue. "And who am I to argue with fate?"

With a smile that felt like it could light up the entire room, Y/N turned back to Jack, her eyes shining with anticipation. "So, stranger," she said playfully, her voice filled with warmth. "Are drinks still on you?

Jack smirked in response, leaning in closer after you stepped away, noticing every inch of the way to looked in front of him. "i thought you'd never ask. Drinks are definitely on me."

 …

[sailing-through-hawkins]

not a specific prompt im just a whore for kas!eddie being utterly obsessed w Regular Guy steve harrington & i think it'd be funny if they tried to just have a normal hangout w the party & eddie absolutely cannot be normal & just like gargoyles around or something

sorry about the wait, writer's block hit me pretty hard again but i did it!!! i hope it's to your tastes and that you have a very happy birthday!!!

So here's the thing.

Eddie could have been a vegetarian.

It was a whole thing when he was like thirteen years old and had just watched a very, very terrible movie that involved a lot of gore and too many metaphors about chickens. It fucked him up so bad that he refused any of Wayne's meat-infested meals, from pies to hot dogs to fucking sandwiches.

He did end up caving after one too many weeks of hiding in his room when the smell of delicious, juicy steak (it wasn't really a steak but fuck if he knew the difference) wafted around the trailer. He cried the entire time while he ate but Wayne pat him on the head and said he was still proud of him for making it that far.

Anyway, the point is Eddie could have sworn to look at nothing but vegetables and grass his whole life.

He's never been so glad that he didn't.

Not when Steve, the absolute fucking dork that he is, is eating his burger in the messiest way possible just to prove to Robin that he could do worse.

 Eddie can't tear his eyes away.

The way the dark, twilight blue of that Henley somehow makes his skin look that much warmer, the way his smile is riddled with sauce and lettuce, the way his eyes squeeze shut when -

"You can't eat Steve."

Eddie blinks, and turns his head to find Dustin with his arms crossed, his face squished into a grim expression.

Eddie tilts his head.

"I'm serious, you promised you wouldn't eat anybody -"

"I don't want to eat Steve," Eddie rasps out, his tail flicking against the wall. It's cold, the surfaces of everything in this house is too cold. He's almost desperate enough to burrow his way into the couch, just so he can soak up the warmth of Steve and Robin, even if their eating habits are disgusting.

Dustin glances at Steve, who's already got a tissue and is jamming into Robin's cheek with a laugh, and frowns at Eddie. "You're sure? Because you've been staring at him like, all day."

Sighing, Eddie resettles himself on the island counter so he's sitting cross-legged and continues to watch Steve. "I know."

There's a pause.

"That's it?" Dustin says incredulously. "That's all you have to say?"

"Have you ever seen someone so intrinsically against everything you've ever believed in that's somehow also the exact poster child for what you should aim to achieve?"

He hears Dustin blink. "What -"

"He's just so -" Eddie flails a hand, his tail mirroring the motion. "Benign! And yet, he possess the strength, the fearlessness of a man on the battlefield -"

"Why are you using your DM voice -"

"And yet again, he will sit there, with a perfect swoop to his hair, an innocence to his eyes and a delicate sweetness to his tongue and he will ask that you believe him to be harmless."

Another pause.

"Okay, that was a little weird -"

"And you will!" Eddie leaps onto his feet, standing above Dustin with power raging through his veins as the head rush of a monologue captures him. "You will believe that fine, gracious man to be harmless! As long as you don't - look - back."

"Eddie, get down from the counter."

With a laugh, Eddie spins and his tail wiggles a hello to Steve, who looks up at him with his exasperated, innocent eyes. "My liege," Eddie says, hopping down only to slink into Steve's space and wrap his tail around his bicep. "How goes the competition?"

"Robin won -"

"As usual!" said-bird calls out from the living room.

"Yeah, as usual," Steve repeats with a lovingly snarky tone. Eddie's tail tightens. "What have I said about standing on tables, Eddie?"

"Oh but sire," Eddie murmurs as he circles Steve, ducking down just to pout up at him. Yeah, he knows the power of his big brown eyes, he knows how to use 'em. "I was simply delivering an informative, nay, crucial declaration of your -"

"Eddie."

He switches tactics. "I won't do it again?"

"You fucking better not," Steve mock-glares down at him and oh, that's a look to think about later. Hooking a finger under Eddie's tail, where it's curled around his skin, Steve gently pulls it off and walks to the sink, the warmth of his finger sending shivers down Eddie's neck.

There is a moment of silence.

"You can't fuck Steve either, by the way, it'd be like - weird. For a lot of reasons. Not because you're guys -"

"For fuck's sake, Henderson -"

[lovelywetdreamer]

Prompt 3: Dick teaching you to suck dick

"Can you pretty please teach me how to suck dick, Dicky?"

"Say what again?"

"You teach me your beautiful girlfriend to suck your dick. Please bae?"

In the first place in his life, Dick is out of words. His brain must be having a kick at his expense. That have to be it. You are like the most innocent person he knows. You never curse. For example, you called him a Moby Dick when he is acting like a dick sometime.

Now that he thinks about it, you stuttered everytime you try to make a dirty joke. With all the information he had collected about you, you can't blame your boyfriend for being shock from your lewd request. Dick's rub your soft, squishy cheek before pinching it. "Are you really my Y/N?"

"Don't be silly, of course it's me.", you put your hand on his chest and made him sit in a chair, "I just want to be a good girl that please her man." Your soul left your body. You can't believe you said that with a straight face; you couldn't say that to youself in the mirror without blushing.

"So are you going to teach me or not?", as you say while your knees are hitting the floor, your brown eyes are looking up into his piercing blue eyes. Now the second time in Dick's life, his mouth cannot search for words. His pant was becoming tight of the sight of his beautiful girlfriend on her knees for him. Dick's dick twitching and begging to be touch.

"Shit baby! You're going to melt my brain you that dontcha? Of course, I'll teach you babygirl, but I need to make sure you are okay with this. Do this for yourself not for me, okay?"

"I want to do this."

"I'm all yours then princess.", he says with a smirk as he unzip his pant and rub his thumb along your soft juicy, plumpy lips. "Before we start tho, can you bring me the chocolate syrup from the fridge?"

"Okay, but why?"

"Don't question your teacher."

When you came back retrieving the chocolate syrup from the fridge, Dick was spread eagle in the chair. He is a robin but how he looking at you, you would had thought he was wolf starring at his prey. You were on your knees before your brain could processed the action. "Hand me the chocolate syrup."

The moment you hand him the chocolate syrup he poured some already on his leaking dick. "I know you hate sour and bitter thing in your mouth."

You have the most sweetest boyfriend in the world, literally. He rubs his hand through your braids, "Please goes at your own pace and don't tries to force the whole thing down your throat. I know how greedy you can get."

"I'm not that greedy now", you say with a toothy grin. You wouldn't scared as you were nervous. Dick is suprisely packing. You are wondering now how he could hide this meaty six inch monster in that tight leather costume. You place a kiss on his red swollen, leaking precum tip. Experimental licks up and down on his length. You read in a book to make sure get a man's dick wet before putting it in your mouth.

Withdrawaling your tongue from his dick, whimpers escape Dick's mouth. You open your mouth wide enough to slowly put his tip inside your warm wet mouth. You don't want your teeth to gaze him. Inch by inch enter your mouth at the best of your ability. Dick has to keep running his hand through his hair. That's the only thing keeping him under control from thrusting upward into your hot little mouth.

"Try to bob your head up and down like bobbing for apples."

His hand were now on the back your head as you bob up and down on his length. "You're such a good girl for me." News to you his praise making you form a wet spot in your panties. You tried to shove his member down your throat, to no one suprise your gag reflex turn against you. Dick quickly remove himself from your mouth. "Are you okay?!", Dick say as he is rubbing your back.

"I gotten too cocky. Sorry, I'm good. Please let me continue."

"Okay, but remember you are a beginner."

You guys continue where you left at. Dick's moans and groans fill the room when you moved a little faster around him. You even moan around his member; Dick accidentally pulls your hair and say," You're gonna be a good whore for me right?

Sadly within ten minutes, Dick was tapping on your shoulder, "I'm gonna cum babygirl. You should probably get off my junk right now baby." He wanted to last longer for you. Little dick follow his own rules not big Dick's rule. You kept going on his dick waiting hungrily for his cum. Your mouth was full of his chocolate flavor cum. The chocolate syrup couldn't hide the true bitter flavor of his cum. At least he tried to hide the flavor for you.

He gave the biggest and wettest kiss on your lip.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

hey hey hey, for the first kiss prompts-

the uncontrollable smile they break into either after or during the kiss itself with... Jesse!

happy writing <3

Thank you for the request @multi-fan-dom-madness! I got a flash of inspiration during the thotting hours, so I bring a Thanksgiving present for you. (That's totally how Thanksgiving works, right?)

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving to my American readers! May your turkey be as juicy as Jesse’s thighs.

Pairing: Jesse x Reader (GN)

Rating: T but MDNI as always

Wordcount: 720

Warnings and tags: Fluff, banter, kisses

Summary: Jesse performs "emergency field medicine."

Suggested Listening:

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

There’s an ARC trooper in your office. He has his back to you as he inspects your shelves full of plants, holoframes, curios, and even a few actual paper books. You don’t recognize the kama, so he’s not one of yours—though you have no doubt that the Jedi generals would lecture you for getting attached to the troopers that way. 

Good thing I’m not a Jedi.

Whoever he is, he’s a big kriffing dude. ARC troopers always look extra imposing thanks to the pauldrons, but damn, this one must have needed custom armor to accommodate those muscles. His helmet is off, and all you can see is the back of his shaved head.

“Hello,” you say. “Can I help you with something?”

Translation: Who are you, and what the kark are you doing in my office?

He turns, and you catch a glimpse of a large Republic cog tattoo.

“Jesse?!” you exclaim, rushing across the office to fling your arms around him. 

He doesn’t even stagger a little bit as you collide with him, just wraps his arms around you in a tight hug. Impulsively, you press your lips to his cheek.

“When did you get back?” you demand.

He beams at you with a smile that’s too brilliant to be contained. “About ten minutes ago. Came straight here.”

“And I was stuck in a meeting,” you say with disgust, drawing a laugh from him. 

“I haven’t been waitin’ long,” he replies.

“Well, I’ve been waiting for you forever!” you exclaim. “How long is ARC training, anyway?”

An odd expression flickers over his face, and he hesitates before he replies, “I’m not actually allowed to say. Sorry.”

“That’s all right; I’m just happy to have you back,” you grin as you lean back to admire his new armor. “Look at you, Mr. ARC Trooper! You look great.”

“That’s ‘Lieutenant ARC Trooper,’” he says with a tiny smirk.

“You got promoted? Jesse, that’s amazing!”

“Yeah, I didn’t think I’d ever make it past sergeant, either,” he jokes.

“That’s not what I meant,” you laugh, slapping his chest and immediately regretting it when your knuckles collide with the hard plastoid armor. "Ouch!"

“How was that?” he asks.

“2/10, do not recommend,” you reply, shaking your hand to ease the stinging.

“Let me see.” He takes your hand gently in his and holds it close to his face to inspect it. “I think it might be fatal.”

“Better get Kix in here before I keel over,” you say, trying to ignore the warmth of his fingers and the rough texture of his gloves on your skin.

“No time,” Jesse replies gravely. “I’ll have to perform emergency medical treatment.”

He kisses your knuckles softly, and your heart begins to hammer in your chest.

“Did they teach you that in ARC training, or did you pick it up from Kix?” you ask, trying to keep your tone light.

“It’s a top secret ARC procedure,” he replies. “Very advanced medicine. I doubt Kix has heard of it.”

“I’m so lucky you were here to kiss it better,” you say. “I’d hate to die of a scraped knuckle.”

“Funny story,” he says. “This procedure requires multiple rounds of treatment.”

Your breath stutters to a halt. “It does?”

“Mm-hmm,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to each of your knuckles individually. He grazes his thumb across them, and suddenly you forget all about the pain. 

“I think it’s working,” you say.

He raises his other hand to your face, stroking his thumb over your lips as his fingers caress your jaw.

“Better try one more thing, just to be safe,” he says as he leans close to you, his lips a breath away from your own.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Just to be safe.”

His lips brush against yours softly, and it feels like the galaxy stops spinning around you, because you’re finally kissing Jesse, and it’s even better than you imagined, and his lips are kriffing perfect, and he tastes suspiciously like the candy that you keep in a bowl on your desk, and you never want it to end. Eventually, though, you have to come up for air, and he cups your cheek as you rest your forehead against his.

“You know,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin, “I’ve been waiting for you forever, too.”

[sugar-omi]

i realized I put this day on the list twice under different prompts or whatever so um. if any days look different after this: no they dont. its.. its always been like this 🧍‍♂️

im sorry</3 I'll prbly bring back that gag prompt tho bc I rewrote this once before, still intending to use the gag prompt, but like I said I rewrote it so no gagging here<//3 but I saved it n it's kinda juicy sooo 👀 look forward to more panty stealer cove 😋 🫶🫶

DAY TWENTY — PANTY STEALING

*kinktober masterlist | *ao3

tags : NSFW, fem/afab reader, yandere/obsessive reader & cove, unprotected sex, cumming in undies, pussy job, reader in skirt or dress

synopsis : you know cove is stealing your panties. of course, you take this as a definite sign that you can claim him...

it's supposed to be a punishment, but it's more like a treat.

you cornered cove in the bathroom, catching him before he can steal your underwear from your laundry hamper...

you had to keep his mouth covered before he screamed, and you reassured him you weren't mad when his eyes got big and glassy.

it turned you on knowing that your crush, the love of your life, your soulmate was getting off with your panties.

so like any reasonable and totally normal person, you pulled him into a hot, messy kiss, and you quickly undo his belt. you're doing it blind and you're shaking with adrenaline, so it takes you longer than it should.

but eventually, you get it done, slipping your hand into cove's boxers, stroking him to fullness before you break up the kiss.

cove pants shakily, watching with baited breath as you take your skirt into your mouth so you can tug your panties down just enough to expose your cunt.

wordlessly, you pull cove into you, lining up his cock with your cunt.

"wait- y/n- what're you-" cove stammers, taking your wrists.

he's not ready for this. as much as he's dreamed about being in your cunt, he wants to take his time being inside you, not 10 minutes before dinner with your family..

you shush him, pecking his lips. "don't worry, i'm not going all the way. i just wanna do this..."

cove watches you slide his cock between your cunt, his cock easily slotting between your lips, the position making his length rub against your clit perfectly..

you cover cove's mouth with your hand, muffling his loud moans.

you're both enraptured by the scene, his dick gliding between your wet folds..

cove curses, pulling your hand away and his nose brushes against your cheek as he mumbles against your lips.

"fuck... you're so wet."

you grin wolfishly, not that he can see since he pulls you into another kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth more confidently than before.

you speak between kisses, "i've been waiting for this all day.. i couldn't help myself."

cove flushes brightly at the confession. you were playing with yourself while thinking about cornering him like this?

it just makes him feel hotter, his dick throbs, and his is spinning.

he swallows, trying to wet his dry mouth. he's so hypnotized and you've barely done anything.

"you.. you planned this?" he exhales breathily, mumbling the words delicately.

you nod, "this is a new pair, too. so this is the first pair we've broken in together.."

cove groans, his grip tightening on your waist, his hips bucking into yours.

you slap a hand over your mouth, interrupting the loud moan abruptly falling from your lips.

you close your eyes, clinging onto cove's shirt as you let him move to grope your ass, gliding your cunt over his dick.

even though both of you are stifling your noises, the sound of his dick thrusting wildly against your wet cunt makes obscene noises, the sound of your slick squelching loudly throughout the bathroom.

hopefully, none of your family came looking for you two, thinking that you were just hanging out in your room before dinner.

your whimper, your knees feeling weak, and you collapse into cove, grinding your clit against his shaft.

he wraps his arms around you, even though the air between you is hotter when pressed together like this, you don't care as you're quickly approaching your ends.

cove drops his head onto your shoulder, his tip catching on your hole makes him spin and he's leaking like a faucet, and your panties will definitely be ruined by the end of this.

you're not any better. you tried to be strong and keep control of the situation but you've turned into a mess too.

you just couldn't keep up the front.. cove's dick is thick and he's so close to your entrance that you're a hair away from giving in and screwing his brains out but you know you can't, you shouldn't..

cove gasps, you barely catch what he's saying since your ears are making sounds fuzzy, your blood rushing to your head.

"i'm-i'm gonna.." cove groans, guiding you along his length and you stutter out you're close too, "cum in my panties! ohh fuck-"

your thighs shaking and your vision blurs as you push over the edge, digging your teeth into the plush of your bottom lip, trying to keep in your noises.

cove isn't as successfully quiet as you, a moan slipping out before he can bury himself in your neck.

you feel like you're in heaven.. cove's cum is flooding your underwear, the crotch of your undies soaked with fluids...

cove thrusts his hips a bit more, your thigh muscles twitching at your sensitivity, working through his orgasm before he pulls out.

you reach between your bodies, taking his messy dick in your hands, giving a few tight tugs to make sure he's emptied his balls, happy to get a few spurts out of him and watching his flush tip twitch and jerk in your grip.

you hum lowly in your throat, his cum landing on the outside of your cunt, his thick seed running over your clit...

cove curses, not sure if he wants to cover his face or watch. well, he's already watching, but he's still in disbelief.

he snaps out of it when your kiss his lips, returning the action.

he doesn't know how long you kiss him, his head spinning and senses blurring, and then you pull away, tugging up your panties and fixing yourself up before you reach for the door.

"i'll see you downstairs~" you purr, your voice sing songy and alluring.

then you slip out the door and cove slides down the wall.

fuck. this is gonna be a long dinner...

[azsazz]

The One with the Best She's Ever Had

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Anon Request: Hiii,could you maybe write something short for Az x reader,where he and reader are together but haven't told IC yet and one night reader tells Mor that the guy she is seeing right now is the the best s*x she has ever had.Few days later Mor teases reader infront IC when are they going to meet "the best s*ex ever" guy and Az just stands there smirking about it and reader tries to find her way out of it 🤣🤣😁 (and yes this is scene from Friends 🤣)

🖤Thank you so much for giving us this much concent about Az and Eris,and if it isn't obvious you are THE BEST AT IT!!! 🔥🔥🔥❤️❤️❤️🥰💯💯🖤

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,065

Notes: I love Friends so this was an amazing prompt. 💙

_________________________________________

“What I want to know is where you’ve been (Y/N). I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages,” Mor comments, bringing her glass of wine to her full, red lips. It does nothing to hide her cutting grin. 

You shrug, trying not to let the heat show on your face as you stare down at your own glass, swirling the drink around, trying your best to look casual and not up at the silent shadowsinger in the corner of the room that’s definitely interested in the conversation now. “I’ve uh, started seeing someone.”

She chokes, spluttering her wine onto Cassian’s shirt, the poor thing.

“Hey,” he exclaims, jumping up from his spot on the sofa. He examines his shirt with wide eyes, then glares up at Rhys’ cousin.

“I’m sorry! I just wasn’t expecting that answer!” She wipes her mouth on his shirt since it’s already ruined and Cassian grumbles, pulling it over his head and tossing it in her face, settling back onto the couch shirtless, looking much happier now that the constricting fabric is gone.

You catch Azriel rolling his eyes from the corner of your vision.

Mor shoots daggers at the Illyrian next to her as she rips the dampened fabric from her face. She bares her teeth at the male and you hope that they’ll start bickering so that you don’t have to talk about this anymore but she perks up like she’s thinking the exact same thing, turning towards you with a bright smile.

“You have to tell us everything,” she squeals, shoving up from the couch to the empty space on the identical couch you and Rhys had been lounging on. Amren mutters something under her breath and heads for the door, her due diligence of showing up for the Inner Circle’s dinner done.

Azriel creeps closer, taking one of the free seats beside Cassian, amusement swimming in his golden gaze.

You and he were a new thing, dating but only for a short amount of time. The both of you had agreed to keep it a secret from your nosy friends, wanting to revel in the feeling just a little bit longer before you told them.

Everything was going perfectly, no one had suspected a thing and you and Azriel were having the most fun either of you had had in a long time, so utterly in love that he could hardly rip himself away from you to do as Rhysand requests.

You shove her in the shoulder, “Later, Mor.”

She huffs, reaching for the win bottle to refill her glass, “No, now. Because you’re always off with this mystery guy and I want to know more about the person you claim is the best sex you’ve ever had.”

You can’t ignore the glinting stare fixed on you. You sneak a peek at Azriel while the attention is on the blonde, yelling for Cassian to go and get a fresh bottle because it’s about to get juicy, and immediately blush when you see that gorgeous smirk on his mouth, strong arms crossed over his chest and feet kicked up on the table, as at ease as you’ve ever seen him.

You even catch his wings shifting as he secretly preens under the compliment.

Mother, does he look kissable.

Cassian returns quickly, bottle already half open as he breathes, “I brought the most expensive one I could find,” and settles back into his spot on the sofa, raising his hands in defense at Rhys’ look of disapproval. “What? This calls for celebration!”

He shakes his head but doesn’t say anything, violet eyes meeting yours, an eyebrow quirking. You groan, not him too.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you mutter, holding your glass out because you’re in desperate need of a refill.

“Everything! What’s his name? What does he look like? What does he do? How big is it?” Mor urges, rapid-firing questions about the male you’re sleeping with.

“Yeah, (Y/N),” Azriel says and you send him a look, pleading him not to join in. Of course, the sneaky spymaster doesn’t listen, “Tell us more about how he’s the best you’ve ever had.”

You fully shoot daggers at him, and when Mor swats your arm you jump, turning towards her. Her eyes are wide, an impatient look in her eyes as she waits for you to spill.

“He’s…kind of quiet,” you start, and so far everyone except for Azriel looks unimpressed, “But not in the bedroom, if you know what I mean.”

“Gods, this is too good,” Mor kicks her feet excitedly, giddy as she continues on, “Where did you meet?”

“We have mutual friends apparently,” you take a sip of your drink, eyes sweeping past Azriel’s in a playful manner, “Though I don’t know why I’m even friends with them, they’re such busybodies.”

He can’t help but to hide his knowing grin behind the rim of his own glass, winking at you when no one else is looking.

“Oh, they sound dreadful,” Cassian says, sprawling out on the large couch. His head falls into Azriel’s lap and the shadowsingers smile instantly drops, making a face down at his brother that has you stifling a laugh.

He shakes his head, letting it slide, Cassian asking instead, “So how big is it?”

Azriel coughs and Rhys’ eyes widen, looking between the two of you as he puts the pieces together. “Oh!”

“Rhys, can I speak to you for a moment,” Azriel says hurriedly, jumping up from his spot, not caring that Cassian’s head falls onto the plush cushion below with a sharp complaint. He wants to know what his brother’s are talking about and as Rhys speaks into his mind he’s grinning wolfishly, grasping onto Rhys’ outstretched hand as the three winnow away.

“Wonder what that was all about,” you finger the rim of your glass, trying to play everything off, but the blush on your cheeks is permanent. This is not how you were expecting your night to go.

“It’s Az, isn’t it?” Mor asks and you snap your gaze to hers, jaw slackened.

“How do you know?”

“Oh come on (Y/N). I am the busybody,” she laughs, taking a swig of her wine.

You join her, chuckling as you think about how the brothers are probably teasing Azriel right now.

“So,” Mor starts, eyes glossy with mischief, “How big is it?”