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yandere! best friend x fem reader...౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅

hellooo everyone I'm so sorry for such a delayed post but I'm finally in a good enough head space to return to writing & post this draft!! A bunch has happened this past month + I got an eyebrow piercing ;p !!

Alessandra is the best friend anyone could ever ask for because she defends you and clears your name even when you're not in the room. Sure, she can get really scary like the antagonist of a Stephen King film but that doesn't stop her from continuing on making sure everyone knows not to talk down on you, ever. If anything she uses her intense nature to her advantage when it comes to putting certain people in their place. She never wants you to feel as though you need to 'calm' your fashion sense, quiet your voice or become a follower. no, you'll never have to worry about that with her, ever. She has a habit of very loudly calling 'sneaky' shit talkers out whenever the two of you just so happen to encounter them in public. Alessandra is far from intimidated from anybody, she can make a seemingly easy going situation go tense in the snap of a finger.

Takes photos of you with her grey, sticker decorated digital camera while telling you to, "Pose, babe. Show the camera what it wants to see." She has a ton of photos of you looking into the camera with a sickeningly innocent expression on your face, all saved in a pretty pink binder with letter stickers spelling out your name on the surface.

loves making you sit on her lap and hates, I mean fucking HATES, when you act like you're too heavy for her to handle.

"Wh-what the fuck are ya talking about? Just sit down, babe, y'not making any sense."

Tells you to give her a fashion show after you buy new clothing and she tells you how beautiful she finds you the entire time.

"look at that, baby. so fucking pretty, hm?"

She loves spoiling you with gifts having to do with your deepest, truest desires. But each and every time she does so, she claims you don't have to give her anything back because she really doesn't need anything more other than your love & presence. However, that doesn't stop you from witnessing her eyes water and cherry red lips quiver at the sight of you gifting her CDs from her favorites bands, a brand new plectrum, etc. It makes her heart melt when she comes to terms with the fact that you remember everything she tells you, you listened to all of her obsessive ramblings. Truly listened.

Alessandra adores being able to hold you during the many nights of you sleeping over at her apartment. The act of cuddling with you just makes her feel an intense sense of comfort and safety, even when she's the one being the little spoon. The floral scent of your shampoo fills her nose, the soft skin of your back decorated by a satin slip rubs against her chest, your hand grasps hers in return, faint screams from a horror flick sounds out from her television. God, everything about you and the feelings you bring her is so perfect. To her, you're beyond perfect.

You could call her for absolutely anything and she'd drop everything just to hear your voice & make sure you're okay. She has shown up to your apartment as late (or early...) as four in the morning because you called her sobbing. She doesn't leave your apartment even when you've stopped crying, she spends the night caressing your hair, kissing any exposed skin and whispering word of assurance.

loves lounging around while listening to music with you.

constantly has her arm wrapped around your shoulder.

Always buys you tickets to the gigs of your favorite artists and bands.

Takes each and every chance she gets to treat you to a trip abroad, you're her best friend. Why wouldn't she want you to see the beauties of the world? She cannot stop the almost crazed smile that spreads across her face when the two of you are sat inside of a cafe on the cobble stone streets of Italy with a Sicilian sun beaming down on the two of you.

offers to spoon feed you your freshly served affogato.

Honey Bees

Pairing - Castiel x Reader

Triggers - N/a

Summary - Sam and Dean cheer up their little sister, seeing she isn’t herself after Castiel claimed himself ‘God’, leaving his true family behind.

The Winchester brothers could feel the sadness radiating off of their little sister, anyone could. The look in her eyes, the fake smile, the strain in her voice. It was always there; it never left.

People may have asked what was troubling her, well I’ll tell you. This all started because of one man, an angel really named Castiel. They were lovers. It may sound strange, but their love was surreal.

That all changed when Castiel grew power hungry, changed for the worst. He wasn’t the confused, timid angel Y/n knew anymore. He was now ruthless and vile. Something she never knew he could be. Though it showed when the Winchester siblings had found him, he was no longer an angel of the lord, pleading their lives for Castiel to leave them be.

They were lucky he did. He wasn’t so kind to others. Murders happened all over the globe, each one with Castiel claiming he was now ‘God’. This wasn’t the real Castiel and it pained the female hunter.

This led her to sit on the couch, staring at what was to be playing on the television, but she wasn’t truly paying attention. She was wrapped in her mind, like she was in a jail cell, locked.

Sam, however, was sitting at the study table, having a clear view of his sister, a frown on his face as he shut his laptop, looking over at his older brother. “Dean, look at her. She’s been like this for months. We need to do something man.”

Dean sighed as he glanced over at Y/n, then to Sam, giving a slow nod. It killed him to see his little sister like that. She used to be so full of life, happy. Now she was just a broken soul in a meat suit, ready to be dragged to hell.

“We’ve tried Sam. Nothing will help, you know that. The only time she does anything is on hunts, and that’s only to get emotions out!” Dean spoke, making sure he wasn’t loud enough for their sister to hear.

He got up from his seat, Sam watching his movement, opening his mouth to say something, but closed it, not able to come up with anything except excuses.

The tallest hunter then got up as well, dusting his layers of flannel before walking along side his brother, seeing he may have had a plan. If he did, he just hoped it was a good one.

The air felt thick, almost as if you could cut it with a butter knife as they approached the girl, Sam clearing his throat, making the female Winchester look up, a faint expression of a smile on her face.

“Look, you’ve been in the bunker too long Y/n. Come outside with us, I wanna take you somewhere.” Dean said, his voice soft, fearing he may break her.

Y/n sighed, unraveling from the blanket she had wrapped around herself, standing up as she nodded, looking at her brothers. “Fine; lets go.”

Sam and Dean gave their sister a smile, walking along side her as they left the bunker, allowing the sun rays to hit what exposed skin they had, the rest hidden by the classic layers of flannel each of them wore.

They all spoke very little as they walked, Y/n keeping quiet, but enjoyed the time with her family, well, her only family.

Dean soon stopped at a small clearing not far from the bunker. It was quite nice. An area with flowers of all colors, not a single other person in sight. “We’re here.” Dean spoke, patting his sisters shoulder.

This made Y/n smile, walking over to the bed of flowers, sitting down as she watched the honey bees do their job of collecting pollen.

Y/n and Castiel used to always do this, mostly on their little dates they used to have. It brought Y/n back to a memory as she watched the bees, seeing one had landed on her finger before it flew off.

“Cas you have your own!” called, the female hunter, giggling as Castiel looked over at his lover, giving back her ice cream cone, chocolate covering his stubble. “What? You’re ice cream looked better.” He spoke, giving the female a small smile as he looked down at his own ice cream, eating the last bit of it.

She rolled her eyes as she took a bite of her now half eaten ice cream, smiling at the sugary flavor. She studied the flowers around them, seeing bees fly past Castiel and herself.

She giggled once again as a bee landed on Castiels nose, making him freeze for a moment before it flew off to a flower.

“Hey you got a little-“ she started to speak before she shook her head, grabbing a bit of her sleeve in his fingers, leaning over to wipe the chocolate that was on the angels face, making him smile softly. “There. Now you don’t look ridiculous.”

He chuckled lightly, pulling the woman close with his arms, kissing her forehead lightly as he admired her every feature. “I love you Y/n.” He said, voice soft and confident.

The female looked up, giving him a toothy smile that sparkled in the light, making them look brighter than they were. “I love you too Cas.” She replied, pulling him by his trench coat, giving him a proper kiss, the ice cream long forgotten.

She gave a small, genuine smile, her brothers now sitting on either side of her. “Thank you guys.” She said, pulling them in for a hug. They happily hugged her back, Dean ruffling her hair some, causing her to laugh.

“Of course kid. We’re your big bro’s , we’ll always be here for you.” Dean said, making Sam smile as he laid an arm on Y/n’s shoulder, looking at his siblings. “Deans right. You’re stuck with us.”

In the first time in a long time, Y/n gave her brothers her iconic toothy smile, glancing between them as she looked back at the bees, smiling at the fond memories of Castiel. Praying he would come back like the angel he was before; to come home.

“I would have it any other way.” She said, pulling a flower from the ground, twirling it in her palm. “I wouldn’t know what to do without you dumbasses.”

Sam and Dean chuckled as they looked at the flowers with their little sister, watching as the sun stayed bright and the air cool. “We know.”

Relax, It’s Our Honeymoon! - Four

Masterlist

Description: You and BTS are in a poly relationship, and have recently gotten married. It’s time for your honeymoon!

Warnings: this is just a cute filler chapter, some cute boyxboy bts moments, don’t read (or interact with my profile) if you’re homophobic.

sorry for the itty bitty filler chapter! the smut chapter is kicking my ass rn 😀

The older boy tucks his head further into the blue-haired boy's chest, a serene smile taking over his features. Their arms are wrapped around one another, their legs intertwined. Jimin keeps his head over Taehyung's heart, his own chest rising in alternating beats to Taehyung's.

They're both fast asleep, knocked out from the day's activities, their full bellies the alcohol they had been consuming throughout the day and the sun that had been beating down. The older one had been feeling drowsy practically all day, and the added wine and stomach full of good food had just expedited the process.

Taehyung, however, was the opposite. He had been awake and giddy all day, only calming down to go to sleep when his head hit the pillow next to Jimin's. He could still hear his hair faintly crunching from all the hairspray, but disregarded it with the fact he was going to wash it tomorrow. Probably. Hopefully.

In the next room, the scene is almost replicated. Two men wrapped up in one another, exhausted from the day's activities. However, they weren't asleep. Just mindlessly talking in-between yawns and small kisses.

The youngest, yet the tallest of the two, has his wide eyes fixed on the elder in-front of him. Yoongi tries to avoid the eye contact, instead trying to distract him with kisses and by smothering his face into the younger's neck. Jungkook runs his hand up and down the elder's spine, keeping the other wrapped firmly around his waist. He fails at hiding his smile, sleepy, half-opened eyes fixing themselves on Yoongi's embarrassed state. They continue with their mumbles, sleep-filled promises and hearty love confessions whispered into the space, only for them to know and possibly forget in the morning.

The next room is a completely different circumstance. Only one of the occupants is asleep on the bed: Namjoon, who's wrapped themselves up in the sheets, cocooned like a caterpillar. The other room occupant is sat on the balcony outside, talking in hushed whispers on the phone. Hoseok found himself unable to sleep, having had next to no contact with his biological family since he landed.

He tires himself out with a long-winded conversation with his parents, talking about anything and everything. Soon, he's unable to keep his eyes open, bidding them goodbye before tucking himself in beside the sleep-drunk younger's wriggling body, managing to force himself into the cocoon and into the warm embrace of one another.

In the last room, the eldest is sleeping like a baby, his wife tucked into him. The two keep closely knit, wrapped in one another like all the other pairings before. Seokjin is the big spoon, his arm going numb, but he's uncaring in dreamland. He'll reap the repercussions in the morning, where he'll adapt a whiny tone and a large pout to garner sympathy from his spouses. It won't work, they'll instead choose to laugh at first and then kiss his arm better after a few whines and complaints.

In total, the chalet is nearly in complete silence. The only sounds being the occasional whisper of the loved-up couple in room two, the crashing of the waves outside and the shuffle of bedsheets rubbing up against sleep clothes and other blankets. Actually, a few snores too. Not loud enough to make the walls shake, but loud enough to prove people are actually residing in the holiday chalet.

All in all, it's peaceful.

Taglist: @effielumiere @ah2002 @mcusuperfreak

Relax, It’s Our Honeymoon! - Five Point Five

Masterlist

You and BTS are in a poly relationship, and have recently gotten married. It’s time for your honeymoon!

Warnings: Hoseok smut in the end 😳, cute little fluff in the start <3

I gently brush the comb through Jungkook's hair, making sure all the tangles are gone before tying it neatly up in a bun. He gets up, moving in-front of Jimin who's next to me. Taehyung then sits in-front of me, handing me his own comb. I gently comb through, making sure not to tug too hard on his already damaged hair, a soft sigh escaping from his mouth. He leans back, conditioned hair practically under my nose, heavily relaxed.

After the (what Yoongi deemed as) 'sex fest', when we had all noticed that everyone's stomachs were rumbling, Hoseok and Yoongi got to work on making lunch; a mash-up of whatever was left in the chalet. It was mainly some leftovers from last night, a large vegetable stir fry that they managed to whip up and some bread that I had made one night when I couldn't sleep. When we declared ourselves full, we split off for showers; only reconvening for skincare and pampering.

So far, we had a decent line up. I would comb through and style their hair, Jimin would moisturise their faces and choose a mask, and then finally Hoseok would give them eye cooling patches and lip treatments. We were the first three clean and out, so we had already finished our skincare routines by the time it was time for the others' pampering sessions.

Funnily enough, the only face masks the boys had brought were BT21 branded, but had still brought their usual skincare supplies otherwise. I actually laughed, seeing the little peeks of RJ and Tata peeking out of the drawers in the bathroom.

The storm was still raging outside. Even though the lightning seems to have stopped, the rain was still coming down in buckets. Another inhabitant on the island came around to tell us there was still no power, and gave us some spare camping ovens and candles. We thanked them, sending them away with a box of protein bars for the others to snack on when they promised us a take-out would be brought to our door tonight.

I finish brushing out Taehyung's hair, noticing the spaced-out look in his eyes.

"Baby? You okay?" I shake his shoulder a little, smiling when a sleepy hum leaves him.

"Just sleepy. Love you." His eyes are half-open, yawning in between words. I coo at him, moving his hand to his face to tilt it towards me. I land a gentle peck on his lips, before slowly hooking my hands under his armpits and dragging him across the floor to lay on the empty sofa. He thanks me under his breath, cuddling and shoving his face into a throw pillow.

I move back to my spot, Hoseok sending me a large smile and pulling me in for his own kiss. This one isn't soft like the sleepy one with Taehyung, it's passionate and includes a little tongue. We run out of air, separating with giddy smiles.

"Okay, me next!" Jin slides across the floor in his socks, plopping down in-front of my seat with a large smile. These boys are so cute.

——

"Such a perfect cock." I babble, my head thrown back while Hoseok starts to drill his hips further into my sopping pussy.

"Yeah baby? My cock is perfect?" He keeps my arms pinned above my head with one hand, the other rubbing circles over my clit. I nod, trying to move my hips upwards to meet the brutal pace his cock is setting, but failing. His dick is hitting all the spots inside me to make me feel alive, the pleasure making my spine tingle and stomach feel like a bottomless pit.

"Harder! Please!" He obliged, grabbing one of my legs and throwing it over his shoulder, lifting up my hips slightly. The newer angle causes a growl to leave him, and a loud whimper to leave me. My foot bounces next to his neck, almost touching the silver chain that he had forgotten to take off.

He continues to fuck into me, my breasts bouncing with the sheer force he’s thrusting into me. I feel the orgasm start to build to a crescendo in my stomach, my moans starting to get higher pitched.

His deep groans and moans start to get louder, the sound of his balls slapping against my ass filling the room. I feel his hand start to furiously trace figure eights on my clit, landing a slap on it after a few seconds. I moan louder, stars beginning to fill my vision as my back arches off the mattress.

“There! I’m gonna cum Seokie! Gonna cum!”

“Cum with me, baby. On three.” I whimper, nodding to his command. His pace doesn’t falter, the furious slapping of our skin.

“One!” I whimper at the first step.

“T-t-two!” He stutters his way through, hips beginning to falter against mine.

“Three, baby!” We both let go, orgasms flying through our bodies and sending black spots into our vision. Moans turn into whimpers, and whimpers turn into soft words and affection.

“I love you, sweet girl.”

“I love you, pretty boy.”

I think there’s only like two chapters left 😳

Taglist: @ah2002 @effielumiere @mcusuperfreak @fangirl125reader

Relax, It’s Our Honeymoon! - Six

Masterlist

You and BTS are in a poly relationship, and have recently gotten married. It’s time for your honeymoon!

Warnings: semi 18+, riding tae, jin eatin your pu**y, cute bathtub moment with Yoongi <3 ha

I collapse into the bathtub, hiding under the excessive amount of bubbles and the purple-tinted water. It's been a long day.

The storm passed late last night, so we went to the beach again today. Most of us also went scuba diving, as well as to cocktail and bar-mixing 'classes.'

Jin didn't want to go scuba diving, insisting that he needed to get a head start on packing our suitcases, but he'd meet back up with us for the cocktails.

Taehyung insisted he work on his tan, complaining that his perky ass was three shades lighter than the rest of him, and that needed to be remedied right away. He also promised to reconvene for the cocktail classes, before yanking his trunks down and waving us off.

Yoongi decided to join in with the scuba diving, but insisted he would swap with Jin, deciding to take over with the packing and missing out on the cocktails.

It was Namjoon's idea to go scuba diving, practically bouncing in excitement at the thought. A little goofy smile was permanently etched on his face, and he nearly ran out of the chalet without his trunks on. He decided to go to the cocktail classes after too, determined to have one last boozy night out.

Jungkook said he had wanted to go scuba diving to "see all the little fishies." I also have the suspicion he just wanted to see Namjoon's thighs in his new trunks, but hey, that's just a theory. He decided he didn't want to go to the cocktail classes, instead wanting to take a long shower and possibly help his hyung out with packing.

Hoseok declined on the scuba diving offer, instead saying how he wasn't feeling 100% and was gonna lay down. We all started pawing at him after that, feeling his temperature and asking him illness-related questions. He just waved us off, saying he'll join the cocktail class later if he was feeling better.

Jimin was a little hesitant, but decided to go scuba diving anyway. We didn't even ask about the drink mixing classes, knowing full well that Jimin would never decline free cocktails.

I decided that I wasn't really in the mood for scuba diving, deciding to bunk up with Taehyung after watching the others load up on the boat. He was laid out on his front, pert ass facing the sun and out for everyone to see. It was shiny with tanning oil, and he had sent a cheeky smile my way once he saw I had approached.

We had talked and relaxed, only stopping to tell him to turn over or have a break under the parasol. After a little while, tension seemed to have built.

I don't remember what had happened, all I knew is that I ended up on top of him, our lips locked in a frenzy whilst our tongues fought for dominance. Our teeth clicked as they crashed against one another, Taehyung ending up sat propped up against the parasol while I pulled my bikini bottoms aside.

I had sunk down on him, starting to ride him while still kissing him. He helped me move my hips up and down, at one point picking me up a little before dropping me back down on his cock, our moans echoing around the island as he brushed my cervix.

All I remember is being drunk on his cock after that, letting him take over with his hands on my ass and my hands tangled in his hair. I only really remember that I had to change my bikini afterwards, taking the walk of shame back to the chalet with Tae's cum leaking into the bottoms and our mixed juices making my thighs slippery.

I remember seeing Jin smirk before he bent me over the bed cluttered with clothes. He began to savagely eat Tae's cum out of me, slurping at my pussy. I blacked out after the orgasm he gave me, realising when I opened my eyes and saw I was in a cute sundress and my thighs and crotch were clean and neat.

The bed was also cleaned up, a few suitcases laid where the clothes were beforehand. Later, I had found out I had slept for over an hour.

Today was a blur. Most of the clothes had been packed, most of the boys were drunk, most of us were sad to be going.

I sink further into the bath at the realisation, only my head peeking over the water. I'm sad that we have to leave this paradise tomorrow, going back to the boys' hectic work schedules and the lonely nights.

"Room for one more?" A voice breaks me from my depressing thoughts, my head shooting up to see a sleepy Yoongi stood in the doorway. I nod, scooting forward whilst he takes his clothes on and climbs in behind me. My back is flush with his chest, his arms gently wrapped around me with his head peaked over one of my shoulders, pressing kisses there.

"What's rattling around in that pretty little head of yours?" His voice is a low whisper, moving his nose along my neck before just leaving his head resting there.

"Just thinking about what will happen when we go home." I feel his eyes on the side of my face so I hazard a glance at him. He seems emotionless, but I can tell he's concerned. The slight furrow of his brow, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

"Things will be different, for sure. Because we're married, contracts will now need to be edited and changed. We'll probably move into another dorm, or even a house. We'll write more love songs, nearly all about you of course, and we'll carry on making music and dancing until it's time for our deployment. But it'll be okay. We'll be okay, because we have each-other. I love you."

"I love you." I whisper back, kissing him gently on the cheek, a comfortable feeling taking over the fear for the future in my body.

Taglist: @effielumiere @ah2002 @mcusuperfreak @fangirl125reader

the next chapter will be the ‘finale’ 🥺 but i do have another series i’m working on! and i’m gonna start to take requests hehe. just fill my ask box, i would like to know if you like my stories (maybe i’ll do drabbles inspired by RIOH. my brain is rotting rn) <3

Relax, It’s Our Honeymoon! - Final

Masterlist

You and BTS are in a poly relationship, and have recently gotten married. It’s time for your honeymoon!

Warnings: 18+ in some parts, jimin being a brat, kinda sad, my crappy writing.

“Is everyone packed and ready?!" Namjoon shouts across the chalet, sunglasses rested on the top of his head while he sits on the sofa. He's surrounded by the packed suitcases and bags, a tight white shirt fitted across his chest.

Most of us have filed into the living room, grabbing our own luggage and double-checking that we aren't leaving anything behind. Taehyung and Yoongi are checking the entire chalet, making sure that the rooms are still semi-neat and that no-one has left their passport or phone chargers behind.

I'm not gonna beat around the bush, the boys look hot as fuck. Even though we agreed to dress for comfort (seeing as all we were going to do was go on the plane and then sit in the dorms), they had decided to dress up in jeans, tight fitting t-shirts and expensive outfits that just imagining the price tags makes me weep. They're all tanned, happy and muscular; it's my wet dream.

However, there's a sort of sad feeling draped over us all. We won't get to do something like this for a while, especially with the boys' busy schedules and my job. I decide that I'm gonna milk this for every single minute, and won't stop until we're climbing off the plane in Korea.

——

I fight back a smirk at Jimin's incessant whining. The plane was delayed by an hour, so he's been moaning and groaning in the lounge about how he could have slept longer or had a bigger breakfast. The rest of the boys are fed up too, just wanting to go home or eat something really greasy, but they're not acting bratty like Jimin is.

"Minie, cut it out. Sit down and shut up." I grumble, glaring at him when he stomps his foot with a pout.

"I'm hungry!" He's now breaking out a signature pout, voice higher in pitch as he starts to throw a tantrum. The boys look on, used to Jimin's attitude when he wants something.

"We're having breakfast on the plane."

"But the plane isn't here!"

"We will be having breakfast on the plane. If you're hungry, have a protein bar. Now, sit down before you draw more attention to yourself." He freezes, eyebrows furrowing as he teeters on the edge of throwing a larger tantrum or doing as he's told. I cock an eyebrow at him, my arms crossed firmly across my chest as I look around the private lounge. Some of the staff are trying to avert their eyes, but some can't help but stare at the member's bratty behaviour.

He goes to open his mouth again, foot stomping. I lose my temper, quickly standing and grabbing his arm, dragging him off to the bathrooms with his whines filling my ears. Most of them look on, little smirks on their face as the only evidence they know what is going on, all except Yoongi. He's staring right at me, eyebrow cocked. I send a nod at him, watching as he follows behind us into the bathroom.

"What's with the attitude, Jimin?" Yoongi fires off at him, making sure the door is locked when he walks in. Jimin stands a bit away from us, eyes now firmly fixed on the floor and plush lips pushed together. Silence fills the room after Yoongi's question.

"Not speaking now huh? You wanted attention, now you have it, so what's with the bratty attitude huh?" I've moved forward, lifting his head with one of my hands and staring him down with a firm gaze.

"Answer her when spoken to." Yoongi's voice is almost angry. I know I can't see him, but I can tell his eyebrow is furrowed and smile completely erased from his face.

"I don't wanna go home. Don't want this to end." Jimin's eyes are a little sad, pout on his perfect lips as he moves his gaze from me to Yoongi.

"None of us do, but we aren't acting like brats." Yoongi's now stood shoulder-to-shoulder with me, one of his hands gently stroking Jimin's cheek.

"We're gonna have to punish you, Minie. I know your reasoning, but we talk things out instead of being all pouty and throwing tantrums. What's your colour?"

"Green." He mutters, the air in the room seemingly getting thicker.

——

"I need you to count after every spank, okay Minie?" He quickly nods, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Yoongi in-front of him. I'm perched on the closed toilet seat, Jimin laid over my lap. Yoongi sits in front of Jimin, heads at the same level. Their hands are intertwined, Jimin's other hand wrapped around my leg to keep himself from slipping off. His jeans and boxer shorts are pulled down to his mid-thigh, ass exposed and his cock rubbing against the inside of my thighs.

I land the first smack, gently rubbing the spot afterwards when I hear the number from Jimin, a whimper leaving at the same time. Yoongi gently hushes him, using his spare hand to gently rub at his cheek.

SLAP! I go again, soothing the already reddening skin when I hear Jimin's hushed whisper.

I land another spank before starting on the other cheek, praising Jimin for taking his punishment so well.

"You're taking your punishment so well, baby. Last one, okay?" I land the sixth and final spank, cooing when he speaks. His voice breaks, and I rub soothing circles into the reddening skin.

"Did so good, Jiminie. Let us finish your aftercare and then you can cum." Yoongi says, handing me a tube of lotion he kept in his bag. I rub the coconut-scented lotion into his reddened skin, making sure to use a light hand on the sore area.

After rubbing in the lotion, I press gentle kisses along his spine before helping him off my lap. His eyes seem glassy, pink pouty lips stretched into a half-dazed smile.

"Such a good boy for us, baby. How do you wanna cum?" Jimin leans some of his weight on Yoongi when he asks, and I keep my eyes on them as I stand up, standing on the other side of Jimin.

"Wanna cum." Jimin whines, bucking his hips into the empty air. Yoongi and I share a smirk behind him, falling more in love with how fucked-out he is.

"We know you do, baby boy. How do you wanna cum?"

"Sucked off."

"By who?" Jimin's eyes flutter open at the question, flickering his heavy gaze between the two of us.

"Want us both on your cock Jiminie? Want us to take turns sucking that fat cock of yours?" I coquettishly run my hand down his torso, fluttering my eyelashes. He nods, and we get to work.

Yoongi and I fall to our knees in tandem, eyeing up Jimin's thick cock. It stands proud, pink tip oozing pre-cum that slowly drips down the shaft. Yoongi's the first to encompass him in his mouth, so I move my attention to his balls, giving them a hard suck. Jimin's weak on his legs, stepping back to press himself against the wall.

Yoongi begins to move up and down his cock slowly, teasing Jimin which causes whines and whimpers to fall from his mouth. I continue to suck hard, before moving to press kisses and leave love bites all over the top of his thighs. We repeat this a couple of times before switching, me moving to take Jimin fully into my mouth whilst Yoongi left bite marks all over his thighs and v-line. 

I bob my head up and down, trying to fit him all in my mouth and failing. Whatever doesn't fit in, I work with my hand, making sure to swallow around his cock the best I can. As I pull off to switch again, I land a teasing lick on the slit, spreading his precum and our spit all over his shaft.

Yoongi and I alternate for a few more minutes, before Jimin starts to tremble and his whimpers gain in volume.

"You gonna cum baby? Where do you wanna cum?" I ask, landing a sloppy kiss on Yoongi's lips after.

"Mouth!" Yoongi sends a smirk my way, pushing me back towards Jimin's cock to swallow it down again. I send a quirked brow his way, licking and sucking up his cock and paying extra attention to the tip. His legs start to shake, his breathing getting heavier. I swallow down his cock, almost choking when he begins to fill my mouth. I still continue to swirl my tongue on his cock the best I can, twisting and pumping my hand to get him through this orgasm.

Soon, he finishes cumming. I slowly seperate from his cock, trying to not let any cum spill out. Suddenly, my head is spun to the side and my lips connect with Yoongi's. He bites, causing my lips to open in shock and Jimin's cum to seep into his mouth. His tongue starts to tangle with mine, swapping the cum around before finally separating to swallow.

“Did such a good job, Jiminie. Let's get cleaned up."

——

"Are we there yet?"

"No, Kook. It's a thirteen hour flight and we set off two hours ago."

"But I'm hungry!"

"In-flight meal should be here soon. In the meantime, sleep baby."

"But Noona~"

"But Noona what?"

"Wanna cuddle with you." He whispers back, and I simply send a coo his way before opening up my arms. He shuffles across the plane, walking past a very disgruntled Yoongi, which he had accidentally woken up with his whining. He throws himself down next to me, tucking his head into my neck and wrapping his arms around my waist. He mutters "goodnight", despite it being around lunchtime, and drifts off to sleep.

He moves around a lot, opening his mouth at one point and getting drool down my shirt. He's woken two hours later by the hostesses walking around and handing out food and drinks, begrudgingly tucking into his food half-asleep.

Everyone’s awake now, and sipping from various beverages. Yoongi and Taehyung chose coffee of some sort and Namjoon and Jungkook chose Cola, while the others seem to settle for more alcoholic drinks. Jimin had some kind of cocktail, Hoseok a classic beer and Jin chose a strawberry flavoured soju. They all seemed a little more relaxed, regardless, and were happily tucking into their food, though I could tell they were still hungry when they were finished. Dessert was a tiny slice of cake, and the boys didn’t look too happy.

Jin started sneaking snacks out of his bag, whilst Hoseok went for the bold approach of asking for them for some hot water so he could cook his ramen.

I fondly smile on at their full cheeks, messy hair and puffed-up faces. I run my eyes over every one, Jungkook having moved to be next to Taehyung and charm some of his food away.

“You alright?” Yoongi appears next to me, slowly sliding into the unoccupied seat.

“Yeah. Just thinking. You?”

“Come to the bed with me.”

“We’ve just spent the last week having non-stop sexual encounters and now you wanna join the mile-high club?”

“We were already part of it, babygirl. And no. You look as exhausted as I feel. Come on.” He intertwines our hands, sending a small gummy smile my way as he stands up and leads me to one of the private quarters at the back of the plane. He kicks his shoes to a random part of the room uncaringly (which nearly gives me a heart attack, seeing as they cost over two million won), and slams himself down on the bed before burrowing under the covers. I slide off my own shoes, before crawling in beside him. He shuffles closer, so we’re practically nose-to-nose. I move my legs to tangle with his, wrapping our arms around one another as we practically become one. His eyes stay locked on mine, nose scrunching up a little when he realises I’m looking right back.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Taglist: @ah2002 @effielumiere @mcusuperfreak @fangirl125reader

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed! i’m thinking about publishing a new series soon, but i don’t know :) i’m gonna miss RIOH :(

OH THE PURE UTTER CHAOS-

@simpforsimeon you can't tell me that Ririana wouldn't do this if she was Idia's girlfriend because she WOULD do this-

Homewrecker, husband-stealer villainess!

Idia is not going anywhere, you hear me?! You might be happy being the other woman, but I'm not happy with the pair of horns!

NOTE: I only write for female Reader, but everyone is welcome to read!

Inspired by @adrianasunderworld in this funny as hell post.

THIS HAS A SEQUEL! What if we fake married for real? (⁠ʃ⁠ƪ⁠＾⁠3⁠＾) ~★

"To give someone a pair of horns" is to cheat on them. Also, Rook gets involved because he'd absolutely adore to be part of the drama.

— (⁠╬⁠☉⁠д⁠⊙⁠)⁠⊰⁠⊹ฺ

Idia knows he's not frozen like the others, but honestly, he feels like it. He feels like even his lungs, even his heart has stopped. All because of this cute-faced npc who forced her way into a romance route with him. If he could think about it, he'd think about that horror game with the same story, but right now his mind is blank.

He has reached the point of no return. Actually dying would just reinforce his fate.

Or, at least, is what he thought. Almost as if answering to his thoughts, there's a loud noise coming from the other side of the doors, followed by footsteps.

Then the doors are thrown open by none other than (Y/N), the Ramshackle Housewarden that the school affectionately tends to call "Prefect".

She's dressed to the nines in a breathtaking wedding gown, the skirt pooling around her like God-Tier CGI, the blue accents contrasting beautifully with the pearly white of the dress, the blue roses decorating her head in a crown making her look like Persephone herself. She'd look perfect, if it weren't for the tear streaks her make-up left behind.

Wait. Tear streaks?

The silence breaks with the Prefects loud, shrill screech, a sound no one has ever thought she, the usually soft spoken and gentle Prefect, would be capable of.

"HOMEWRECKER!"

Without stopping to breath, she walks forwards, looking angrier and angrier each step taken.

"How dare you, you conniving bitch?! How dare you steal my groom! ON OUR WEDDING DAY?!" she screams at Eliza, stopping in the middle of the way to point at... at Idia himself?! "And you! You good-for-nothing two-timer! How dare you leave me waiting at the altar?!"

"Young man, I am terribly disappointed!" Professor Crewel chides from behind her, and Idia finally notices the group that actually came in with her. "I did not give you permission to marry my daughter, my first and only daughter, for you to break her heart on her happiest day!"

"Big brother! How could you! Think of your child!" Ortho chimes in, and if Idia hadn't built tear tracks on the boy himself, he would believe firmly in his tears. "Little Meg would be so sad if her daddy just left for another woman!"

"Idia, what is the meaning of this?!" it's Eliza's turn to screech, turning to him with fury in her eyes. Idia stutters a few random letters, trying to form words, just as confused as she is.

Until it clicks.

Right. Fake relationship. How could he forget one of the most cliche tropes in romance's history?

"I... I... t-this isn't what it looks like!" he finally manages to say, trying to look as desperate as he can, which is not hard considering what his fate is in case this plan fails. "I can explain!"

"Is it because of my past with Rook?! "

"Young man, you're still hung up on that, despite being the only man I've ever approved for my daughter?"

"What?!" someone yells in the crowd, but the man in question promptly enters the play as if he was born for this moment alone.

"Monsieur, I have told you this already, but I shall say it again! My dear dove's happiness is the most important to me! If she has chosen you, then my heart shall settle!" What the fuck, why is Rook so good at improv?

"I-I know!" calm down, Idia, think of this as a rhythm game and keep the beat going! "I don't... I don't want this, but this villainess wouldn't listen!"

"Wait, so this woman is telling the truth?!"

"This woman?! THIS WOMAN?! You mean his true bride?!" (Y/N) steps closer, fat crocodile tears rolling down her cheeks, smudging her make-up even more. "You- you- you husband-stealer! Know your place! You come into my house, you steal my groom and the father of my daughter-"

"I see no child-"

"Do you think I'd bring my child to see my husband's mistress?!"

"Big sister, calm down, think of the baby! Your stress levels are dangerously high!"

"WHAT BABY?!"

"Monsieur Shroud, if you do not fix this situation, I shall be taking my belle back! Do not worry, the children will not grow without a father!"

Octavinelle

INTRO/Dorm Selection Includes: Azul, Floyd, Jade

@azulashengrottospiano I finally did it! Now just 5 more dorms and 18 characters to go XD

Remember this is a fem reader insert with she/her pronouns

Azul had been in the Octavinelle dorm lounge with Floyd and Jade discussing work, it was one of their few days off and they were talking about some new renovations Azul planned to do to the monstro lounge. Floyd believed they needed some kind of gift shop, while Jade believed they needed a garden cafe. Azul had planned to consult with his sweet (Y/n), she had been lending him a hand in the creativity department for a while now. It helped that she seemed to know so many people, but given how deeply involved she has been in each dorm it isn't much of a surprise. As Azul was checking his phone had was also attempting to tune out the rambles of the tweels, Floyd trying to correct something that Jade said involving fashion as usual. Azul often tried to tune those conversations out, he couldn't understand a word Floyd said when he was talking about fashion. Though this chaotic peace had been interupted when Lilia just seemed to drop out of the sky infront of them, the twins near jumping behind the couch from the sudden and silent appearance. It took every ounce of muscle control in Azul not to do the same thing, he had an image he had to uphold and getting scared behind the couch was not something that helped said image. "Hello Lilia, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He had spoken to Lilia on occasion, especially since he often showed up to events in Malleus's place, but he never expected to see the short male in the Octavinelle dorm. The monstro lounge maybe, he did come in every now and then for a treat, but the fact that he was in the dorm lounge caused a few pink flags to pop up. Though those pink flags were soon crimson read as he spotted the child cradled against the male's chest, especially since the child was swaddled in an oversized ramshackle dorm uniform jacket. The fae male chuckled as he noticed the vague way the merman paled, tilting his head with a closed eye smile. "(Y/n) actually, is the reason I'm here. You see, this sweet little girl was the victim of small potionology accident." Azul quirked an eyebrow as the tweels were peaking down at the sleeping prefect in Lilia's arms, he himself was trying not to swear as he already knew where this was going when Lilia started retelling the events in class.

At the end of it Azul was squeezing the bridge of his nose, what God did she piss off to be in the middle of the most chaotic accidents EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. "Don't worry though, Professor Crewel is working with the headmage to fix this. He should be by soon with what he called a 'Baby bag' so that she can be taken care of in the meantime." Lilia carefully passed the sleeping girl to Azul, helping the tense male hold the small girl when he realized that he didn't know how to hold a baby. He then sat her school bag by Floyd, her other clothing articles were hidden inside because Lilia was a gentleman like that. "My number is in her phone; I've raised a few babies in my day so if you need some help just call."

-

It had been a few hours since then, the professor having come by to drop off the baby bag with a book borrowed from the college library about unplanned parenting for young adults. A book he never in his life thought he would EVER be reading; she has been the first of many things for him and at this point he was curious how she managed to create such a chaotic balance of experiences. He had relaxed a bit after getting used to holding her for a while and soon enough he found himself staring at her, he never thought about what she may have looked like as a baby even after she had seen some of his childhood photos. Currently he sat in the pool that was built into his dorm leader room, he was leaning back against the wall of the pool as he watched (Y/n). She had been awake for a while; he had thought that maybe she was aware of the situation because she had been fairly quiet and wasn't very fussy. Currently he was in his merform, something he had grown comfortable with her being around after their many trips to the beach. His sleek black tentacles held her in the water, she was in a little (F/c) swim dress and sat comfortably on his curled tentacles. Her tiny hands gently grabbing at the other tentacles that would poke her nose or tickle her sides or cheeks, he hadn't had any prior experience with human children, so he had found himself quite distracted by her reactions to him. He especially loved how her nose crinkled when she giggled, something he noticed before in her regular age but was much more obvious now in this form. "It isn't fair angel fish; how can you be so cute after causing so much trouble." He chuckled as he brought her closer, rubbing his cheek on hers as he rested her against his chest. It was a quiet night and all things considered he was in a content mood. He watched her tiny hands move against his pale grey skin, tiny eyes marveling at the odd texture. He felt so proud of himself, adoring just how curious she was about HIM. It was definitely an ego boost, he knew she cared for him and found him interesting but as an infant it was such innocent and blatant curiosity. And since she was a baby, he didn't have to feel embarrassed about anything! I mean who are you going to tell? The stuffed dalmatian toy professor Crewel had put in the baby bag? His eyes widened a bit when he felt her tiny hands grab his cheeks, laughing away at something he had no clue about. He didn't know how long it would be till she was turned back, but these moments would certainly make any hassle or stress until that point worth it. He went back to using his tentacles to help her play and swim in the water, buying him some time to think of the future. He found himself hoping, now more than ever, that his future would involve her for many years to come.

Floyd had been running laps at the start of gym class when Coach Vargas had called him over to his office, he noticed Lilia was sitting in front of the coach's desk and he could tell the male was holding something but didn't quite know what. "What's goin on? Why is Mendako here?" (Yes, I'm using the Japanese nicknames cause calling Lilia a flapjack octopus in English just feels insulting. LMFAO) Floyd put his hands on his hips, tilting his head slightly as Lilia stood from his seat. "Well, young Lilia said there was some sort of accident in potionology involving the ramshackle prefect. I'll let him explain, I got stretches to demonstrate!" With that Vargas had left the room, as if he didn't just stir something in the merman. Lilia seemed to sense Floyd's shift in behavior, approaching him with a jacket swaddled infant. "Don't worry (Y/n)'s just fine, she just a little…little." He chuckled as he motioned to the infant, watching Floyd squat to be able to look at her better. Lilia took the chance to show him how to hold her while he explained the situation, chuckling to himself at the end as he saw how Floyd had the small girl resting perfectly on his large forearm. "So, I'm just supposed to take care of shrimpy til Ishidai finds a way to turn her back?" Floyd's heterochromic eyes gazed down at the child in his arm, tilting his head. His shrimpy was already pretty small, but now she was TINY. He couldn't help but chuckle, her cheeks were just so chubby he couldn't help but poke them. Are all human babies so warm and squishy? Or was his cute little shrimpy just extra special like that? "Yep, that sums it up. Professor Crewel should be by to drop off a bag of supplies for her soon. For now, he just asked I bring this to you since he knows you would probably need your hands free." Lilia held up a black and teal harness, a little gold charm dangling from the zipper on the back. "Huh, I didn't know they made functional harnesses." The male was aware that they were sometimes worn simply as decoration for an outfit, but he didn't know humans had harnesses just for baby carrying. "Mhm, let me hold her while you put it on. Once we get her settled, I need to get back to Diasomnia before my own kids stir up trouble." He chuckled at Floyd's confused look, but true to his word once the sleeping child was comfortably snug to Floyd's chest the batty male had left for his dorm. Floyd had left the office and took his lover's stuff to where his own was, looking down at the small girl and wondering how long it would take to have his normal shrimpy back. He had already tried to talk to her 3 times, each time forgetting she couldn't talk back, and he really missed his shrimpy's voice.

Because he had the prefect in his care, he didn't have to do the daily exercises, instead being told to just walk around the basketball court until free time started. He could feel eyes on him as he walked around, he didn't really care because if they were smart, he knew they'd keep their mouths shut about him with his baby shrimpy. He slowly came to a stop when she started squirming, he rested his hand on her back as he watched her closely. Observing how her tiny (E/c) eyes opened with a whiny yawn as she soon began watching him back, tiny head tilting as she looked at him curiously. He chuckled a little at how her tiny hands reached up and padded at the bottom of his cheek, making him lean down as best he could so she could do her thing. He quietly observed with a lazy smirk as she tugged gently on his bangs and patted his cheeks, he didn't know if she was trying to communicate or was just being a curious baby, but he found it quite amusing in an adorable way. Though his moment was interrupted when professor Crewel approached him with a large bag on his arm, cartoon fish covering the outside of it. "Glad to see you aren't breaking down yet, surprising given how most of the students in this school would probably react in your situation." Floyd looked up to Crewel, chuckling some as he scratched the back of his head. "Well, she did just wake up, hopefully shrimpy will be a good girl until we can get back to the dorm." He followed Crewel after the professor motioned him to follow, watching as they made their way to the lockeroom. "Well, we hope to have her sorted out by the end of the week, till then I need to at least make sure you're prepared for childcare. Tell me, what do you know about diapers?" Crewel couldn't help but chuckle at the male's confusion, this was going to be an adventure. Thankfully Floyd was a quick learner, especially when it came to something he cares about. So, it wasn't long before he was returning to class, his shrimpy in a cute little mermaid jumper and the baby bag resting on his shoulder as he filled a bottle with some juice. Free time had started and those that weren't gathering things to take outside were now gawking at the tall male, especially those like Jamil and Riddle who were quite familiar with the male.

Riddle had been the very first to approach him at that, his curiosity getting the best of him. "So Floyd, who's baby is that?" Riddle tilted his head as he observed the child, something about her feeling oddly familiar. Floyd looked down at the little red head, chuckling as he held the bottle for her so she could have a drink. "My shrimpy had a little accident in potionology, so I've gotta watch her until Ishidai can turn her back." That made Riddle's eyes widen, he seemed so calm despite the fact his significant other had been turned into an infant. "That's certainly interesting, never a boring day with the prefect around huh?" This had been Jamil; he was standing nearby as he looked for a volleyball in the ball cart. When he finally found one, he stood up straight and approached the two as he looked at the little girl. The innocent look in her eyes reminded him of when Kalim was still real young, he was actually pretty cute back then in Jamil's opinion but that could have been because there wasn't much Kalim could do. "Wait if you're watching (Y/n)… Who's watching Grim?" This thought had Riddle freezing a bit, the group going silent before Floyd shrugged. "Idunno, not my problem though." And with a chuckle he walked away, the two male's making eye contact and agreeing to go see Crowley since they knew it wasn't wise to leave the fiery cat unsupervised.

The calmer leech twin smiled as he sat in the vip room of the monstro lounge, Lilia had brought (Y/n) to him earlier and professor Crewel had just left after dropping off the baby bag and teaching him a few things about human babies. He had the small girl cradled to his chest as he fed her, it felt oddly domestic to the male as he was usually helping Floyd deal with problematic people or trying to balance a busy schedule. He had always had a tendency to try and be much lighter handed and gentle since coming on land, it wasn't until now that he realized just how essential that was. She weighed practically nothing to him; he was almost concerned but trusted Crewel when he had said she was just fine aside from being babyfied. "What am I going to do with you darling? How is it you manage to end up in these situations even without Grim?" He chuckled as he poked her cheek, his smile widening as she grabbed his finger with a huff while still drinking from the bottle. He hadn't had much experience with babies before, especially not with human babies, so he was fascinated by everything she did. Trying to see what she does differently compared to when she is her regular self, as well as just enjoying her reactions to the things he has done and showed her. He had just brought her back from the giant fish tank in the lounge to feed her, the way her eyes lit up and her tiny hands gently touching the glass as she watched all the colorful fish had made him delighted. He knew no matter what he'd be even more attached to his sweet angel fish, for once she was completely reliant on him. He could spoil and care for her the way he wanted, and she couldn't stop him and didn't seem aware enough to feel guilty as she usually does when he tries to tend to her. Granted there were some things he wasn't looking forward too, but he understood the naturalness of it all and was more than capable of overlooking and forgetting about anything that may make her selfconscious. His goal was just to keep her healthy, safe and loved until she could return to her normal self. He reached over for his phone with a grin, quick to turn on the camera. He decided to make the best of the situation, and that included getting plenty of pictures of her cute pudgy face. He couldn't wait to show the pictures back to her, so he was careful and picky about the selfies he took with her and of the pictures he took of her as a whole. He wanted the absolute cutest ones to show her, and possibly any other poor soul who might be curious. Though he was quick to put his phone away when she pushed the mostly empty bottle away, which he moved to sit on the coffee table as he placed his legs together and rested her along his thighs. Crewel had showed him this video he claimed would be better for her than burping her like they do on tv shows, in which he was slightly moving her body and somewhat rubbing her stomach. This was supposed to reduce the chances of her spitting up and help her digest better so the milk isn't just setting in place in her stomach. It was a somewhat complicated explanation, but he understood that it was meant to be the better method and that was what he was going to do. Her little giggles made him chuckle, and the slight surprised face she made at her little burp had him slumping over a little as he laughed. Being an infant, she didn't have much conscious control over her actions or expressions, and he was absolutely loving it. "Always so interesting my little angle fish, you always manage to make my day so fun." He was careful as he lifted her to rest on his chest, leaning back some as he moved a small cover over her back. He rested a large hand over her body, observing how it covered the small space and taking note just how tiny she was compared to him.

"Come on (Y/n) it's nap time, you've been awake for a while now. When we get back to the dorm, I'll set up some toys for you to play with on the bed." He moved his other hand to gently cup the back of her head, smiling down at her half-lidded gaze as her tiny hands crumpled his shirt. Since it was her first day as a baby, he figured she may be pretty low energy, at least for a while after the transformation. Because of this he knew things may be a bit more hectic tomorrow, but Crewel promised to make the other teachers aware of the situation so he should be able to step out of class when she gets fussy or maybe even just pick up some notes and class work until she is back to normal. He'd make it work either way, after all she was turned on school property and in class, so they were technically responsible for this transformation. He knew Crowley wouldn't push his luck with the octo-trio, it would be bad for business as they say. Afterall Octavinelle does a lot in means of helping with school funding and events, and Azul was smart enough to find a way to get what he wants without jeopardizing himself. But that was nuclear level thinking, right now he just needed to worry about not falling asleep himself.

Supernatural x sister reader thought

Imagine when Dean, Sam, and yn are kids; yn ask their dad if their mom hated her or if she did something wrong driving their mom away, not understanding death yet.

In this case, I see this as a way that helps John have a good (maybe strong) relationship with his daughter. He'd explain what actually happened to her in a way she can understand and reassure she knows it wasn't her fault.

Imagine being the only girl at camp green lake on holes, and you're dancing and singing the song from the movie with the d-tent boys.

Please make the coraline Yandere Hazbin au I’m on my knees begging you it would be so good

I can try, but I don't think I'll be any good.

In my story, yn would be a fem. You guys can give me ideas on what happens and the title.

Here's what I got

It was a beautiful sunny day. The wind was blowing softly, birds chirping happily. Yn was unloading the moving van in front of her new home. She was excited about her new life in the country. The neighbors were nice and peaceful.

Yn was moving boxes to the correct rooms. Suddenly, something fell, ripping the wallpaper in the living room. Yn went to check on it.

"Huh, weird, " she said, " the home owner never said about a small door."

She opened it and found a strange tunnel. Yn's instincts said not to go in, but against her better judgment, she went in anyway.

When she came out at the other end. Yn saw a red sky with a pentagram high above. A busy city full of strange creatures.

"What is this place."

Meanwhile, somewhere in heaven, Sera had this feeling,as if something was wrong, as if someone was where they weren't supposed to be.

I’m not dead, so I’m not done

^☆ Synopsis: Even after trying to escape the tragedy of the Woodsboro murders, the ghosts of her past continue to follow her.

^☆ Pairing: ex!Stu Macher x Reader / Sidney Prescott x Reader

^☆ Word Count: 1.6k

^☆ Warnings: mentions of death, tiny bit of angst in regards to the readers relationship to Stu, fluff, cliffhanger ending (sorry), mentions of blood

^☆ Authors Note: This is the first fic I’ve written in a while so hopefully I’m not rusty, anyway feel free to leave requests, the story doesn’t use (y/n) and is in a female pov

1996 - 261 Turner Lane

Her eyes were drawn to the grotesque scene that was playing out before her eyes, both her friends tangled in a harrowing struggle for survival, she stood transfixed by the nightmarish display of desperation and violence.

As they tumbled over the couch, the air erupted with a cacophony of exploding pillows, their fluffy contents bursting forth like a storm of feathers. The room seemed to transform into a battlefield, the innocent pillows transformed into chaotic projectiles, adding an unsettling surrealness to the already intense struggle between Stu and Sidney.

Glancing quickly over her shoulder, Billy was sprawled across the hallways. His body was splayed on the floor, contorting with pain, clutching his side where Sidney had impaled him with an umbrella when she burst from the closet, taunting him with the ghostface costume.

The air crackled with tension as she stood there, a formidable force, challenging him to face the consequences of his wicked actions, she wasn’t going to let him get away with this.

In that moment, the world started to gain traction, the world no longer filled with static and white noise. Scrambling without thought, frantically rushing forward to help Sidney and restrain Stu from hurting her best friend.

Wrapping her arms around Stu, she gripped him in a tight embrace, her arms enveloping him with a firmness that evoked memories of the past, where she would hold him just like that. The days where she would sneak up on him as he stood by his locker, obsessively recounting the horror movie he had watched the night before in excruciating detail, to a content Billy who listened to his incessant rambling with a grin on his face. How he would tug her under his arms to give her a hug and a small peck before continuing as adamantly as before. The two people she trusted most in the world lay before her, grievously wounded and marred by the violence they had unleashed. leaving a trail of destruction in their wake, targeting her friends and even attempting to end her own life. The trust she had once placed in them had been shattered, replaced by an overwhelming sense of fear and disbelief.

Stu was different, he wasn’t the same boy who would walk her home from school everyday to make sure she was “safe from Randy,” the sick grin plastered to his face, eyes wide from adrenaline, blood dripping all down his body, he had undergone a chilling transformation into a disfigured version of the person he once was. His eyes, once filled with warmth and familiarity, now glowed with a sinister light, reflecting the depths of his corrupted soul. The scars of his transformation told a haunting tale of the torment that had consumed him, warping his humanity beyond recognition. It was a jarring sight, a stark reminder that evil had taken hold and twisted his very essence.

In a desperate bid for freedom, Sidney's instincts kicked into overdrive. With a surge of adrenaline, she seized the nearest object within reach—a heavy plant pot—and swung it with all her might, shattering it against his head.

The impact reverberated through the air, a resounding crack that echoed with a mix of surprise and pain. Stunned, he faltered, his grip on her weakening as his senses reeled from the unexpected blow. It was a momentary reprieve, an opportunity for Sidney to break free from his clutches and gather her wits, quickly seizing her arms, that were still clutching at Stu, pulling her to her side, the eerie glow of Halloween illuminated the room, a haunting silence filled the room, broken only by shallow breaths and groans from Stu who painfully attempted to twist his marred body onto his back, gazing up at the two girls who’s eyes were locked in noiseless conversation, as if communicating with telepathy.

With a nod both girls gripped the side of the tv and pushed it onto Stu, the image of the Stus flailing body, burned into her retinas, his hands grasping at the surface to attempt to alleviate his suffering, his groans began to quiet down as Sidney entangled their fingers and dragged her away desperately trying to get them out of the situation, hoping fervently that Dewey would be here any second with backup. While being tugged away, she took a final glance towards Stus body, a glint of light catching her eye. There on his wrist peering slightly over the fallen sleeve of his beige cashmere sweater, now tainted by splotches of red, lay the bracelet she had made him on their first date, the sage string wove through pieces of sea glass they had stumbled upon on the beach.

It was the only part of “her Stu” she had left

1997 - Windsor College

As they strolled back to the campus from their date, her heart swelled with an overwhelming love for Sidney. The connection they shared had blossomed amidst the darkness and trauma they had both experienced. They had become each other's pillars of strength, providing unwavering solace in the face of unimaginable horrors.

The loss of Stu left a profound void in the her heart, a hollow ache that echoed with the weight of what could have been. She had once been deeply devoted to Stu, a bond that had now been shattered by the revelation of his involvement in the horrors that unfolded. She was consumed by a maelstrom of emotions—grief, anger, and a profound sense of betrayal. It was as if the foundation of their past had crumbled, leaving behind a sense of loss that cut deep.

But Sidney, she filled that hole, she had a key lodged into the keyhole of her heart and it might as well have been stuck in there with gorilla glue, Sidney's presence had become a beacon of hope, a reminder that healing was possible even in the wake of unspeakable darkness. She admired her for her resilience, her ability to rise above the trauma that threatened to consume her. In Sidney, she found inspiration and a profound love that transcended the scars —physical and mental— left by the past.

In moments of vulnerability, they had cried together, finding solace in their shared pain. They had held each other in the darkest of nights, lending strength when one faltered, reminding each other that they were survivors, not defined by their past but shaped by their determination to move forward.

With each passing day, their love grew deeper and more profound. They were intertwined in a bond forged by empathy and understanding, knowing that they held the power to heal one another's wounds. She cherished every moment spent with Sidney, witnessing her growth and finding solace in their shared journey.

Together, they had become each other's safe haven, a sanctuary where the weight of the past could be shed and replaced with love, support, and healing. She knew that they were forever changed by Sidney's presence in their life, grateful for the way she had helped them navigate their own trauma and find strength within themselves.

The night air whispered against their skin, carrying with it a promise of new beginnings. As they approached her dormitory, the anticipation in her heart grew. She longed to spend more time with the person who had become her rock, to continue exploring the depths of their bond.

Sidney's fingertips tingled with the desire to hold the her close, to feel their warmth and reassurance envelop her. The vulnerability she had shared with them had fostered a profound sense of trust. In that moment, as they stood outside the dorm, Sidney couldn't help but marvel at the way life had woven their paths together.

“Hey I had a great time tonight Sid, thanks so much, I owe you a meal next time,” she giggled as she leaned in to press her lips to her girlfriends, Sidney sighed against her lips.

“Glad you did, now, you have to work on that assignment, I’m not letting you blame me for you failing your class,” Sidney pressed her pointed finger at her chest, lightly shoving her back into the dorm.

A shocked look hung over her face,

“Sid!”

“Goodnight sweetheart,” Sidney sent her a small wink as she closed the door, a wave of embarrassment flooded her cheeks, staining them red, “ugh that girl, I don’t know what I’m going to do-“

The air seemed charged, almost heavy with anticipation. Their senses heightened, and then, it hit them—a scent that sent a shiver down their spine.

A mix of cologne and sweat lingered in the room, a scent that lingered oh so familiarly on their palette. It brought back memories—both joyful and painful—of something. The fragrance seemed to fill the air, wrapping around them like a phantom presence. Goosebumps erupted across their skin, an involuntary reaction to the uncanny sensation.

The room carried the unmistakable scent of Stu.

She stood frozen, her gaze scanning the room for any signs of Stu's presence. Was it just a trick of the mind, a residue of memories clinging to the air? Or was there something more sinister at play? The scent seemed to hang in the room like an omen, a chilling reminder of the past they thought they had left behind.

With a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, she moved closer to the source of the scent. She traced its path, her fingertips trembling, and her mind racing with unanswered questions. How could Stu's scent be here, in their room, after all this time?

In that moment, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. The past collided with the present, and the line between reality and nightmare blurred, reduced to nothing but a hazy fog. As they inhaled once again, the scent of Stu clung to their senses, leaving them with an unsettling realization—perhaps the ghosts of the past were not so easily forgotten, as a familiar shine of sea glass captured her attention.

If you want I could make a part 2 but idk (/ω＼)

Redemption

Sequel to Solace

Pairings: Tara Carpenter x Fem! Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Hurt again, angst, some fluff

Warnings: violence, stabbing, character death

Word Count: 7.4k

Authors Note: thanks so much for all the patience you’ve shown me, I’m been very stressed these past few days with uni quickly approaching I’ve had no time to write, if you like this, I might make a third part about the final act. Hope you all enjoy

As (Y/n) lay quietly by Tara's side, her heart weighed heavy with guilt and love, as she gently caressed Tara's hair, trying to be a source of comfort in the dimly lit hospital room. Her fingers moved with tender care, tracing soothing patterns as she whispered words of reassurance. The events of the night replayed in her mind like a haunting melody, the fight they had before the attack now etched in her memory, making her ache with regret. She knew there was no way she could have predicted what would happen, but the guilt gnawed at her nonetheless.

Tara's eyes struggled to stay open, the exhaustion from the ordeal pulling her into a dreamless slumber. Her body was weak, but the warmth of (Y/n)'s touch gave her a sense of solace amid the chaos. The room remained enveloped in a profound silence, broken only by the faint hum of hospital equipment, and the gentle symphony of Tara's quiet breaths. (Y/n)'s heart swelled with love, vowing never to leave Tara's side again. She had come so close to losing the person she cherished most, and the fear of that loss had shaken her to her core.

The tranquility of the hospital room was shattered by the sound of frantic footsteps racing toward the door. Tara's heart pounded, her body tensing in anticipation. Despite the pain that shot through her as she attempted to sit up, she refused to remain vulnerable and defenseless. Beside her, (Y/n) held her hand tightly, her expression a mix of worry and determination.

The door swung open, and their friends burst into the room, a rush of relief and concern on their faces. (Y/n) stayed by Tara's side, never letting go of her hand, a steady anchor in the whirlwind of emotions. Wes stood at the foot of the bed, trying to sound confident in an attempt to reassure Tara that everything was under control.

"Don't worry, Tara. My mom's got everything under control," Wes said, his voice trying to sound reassuring, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. "She's conducting interviews, and there's a curfew in place to keep everyone safe."

Chad chimed in with his own contribution, his tone tinged with sarcasm, "Yeah, Sheriff Hicks even interviewed me. Amber here thought I was the killer because of some football bruises!"

Amber raised her arms defensively, "I was just stating the facts. It's always someone you know, right?"

(Y/n) sighed loudly, interrupting the argument, her frustration evident. "Guys, seriously! This is the last thing Tara needs right now. If you're going to argue about petty things, just leave!"

The group fell into an uncomfortable silence, but it didn't last long. Mindy spoke up, her words laced with suspicion, "If we're going by Stab rules, how do we know it's not the love interest? I mean, isn't that what always happens?"

(Y/n)'s glare could have cut through steel, feeling hurt and betrayed that one of her closest friends could suggest such a thing. Tara squeezed her hand gently, offering her comfort and assurance. "It couldn't have been her," Tara said, her voice soft but firm. "(Y/n) was texting me the entire time. She scared off the killer before they..." Her voice trailed off as the memories of the terrifying ordeal washed over her, the pain and fear still fresh in her mind.

(Y/n) swallowed hard, her guilt gnawing at her. She knew she couldn't have arrived any earlier, but she still blamed herself for not being there to protect Tara. "I feel guilty enough for not being there in the first place," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "Please, can we talk about something else?"

As Chad tried to change the topic, the door to the room burst open once again, revealing a familiar face. Everyone stood on defence only to see Tara's sister Sam, she had changed a lot since (Y/n) had seen her last, her eyes were more sunken in, she had lost all the baby fat on her cheeks, but she had looked much healthier. (Y/n) could see the look of longing and relief that had rushed over Sams face seeing her sister, all beat up in the hospital bed.

"Sam?"

As the door swung open, the occupants of the room stood up abruptly, shock and surprise etched across their faces. Amber's expression seemed to hold a mixture of disdain and disbelief. It was no secret that Amber harbored resentment toward Sam for leaving her family abruptly, and (Y/n) couldn't shake the feeling that there was a hidden reason behind it all, something she couldn't quite fathom.

"You came?" Tara's voice was almost a whisper, carrying a mix of astonishment and emotion. Tara's eyes raked over Sam's features, as if trying to take in every detail she had missed during their time apart. In that moment, the absence of their mother, who had yet to visit, seemed insignificant. Sam was here, (Y/n) was here, and Tara was not alone anymore. "Of course I came. This is my boyfriend, Richie."

Richie offered a polite smile and extended his hand. "It's nice to meet you, and I'm sorry if I'm intruding." Tara managed a small grin, finding Sam's newfound openness endearing. She replied, "It's nice to meet you too." Richie seemed a bit awkward, almost hovering by the door, a stance that (Y/n) understood – he was an outsider in a situation fraught with tension. Sam went around the room, exchanging hugs with the friends who had become like family to Tara. She turned back to Richie, who appeared even more nervous now. A soft smile played on her lips. "These are Chad and Mindy, the twins, and Wes. I used to babysit them all."

(Y/n)'s gaze shifted to Richie, who seemed uncomfortable, fidgeting with the string on his backpack. An odd intuition nudged her, suggesting something was off about him, but she dismissed it as her own apprehension. Sam's call to her name brought her back to reality. "And (Y/n)'s been friends with Tara for as long as I can remember!" (Y/n) offered a smile, her grip on Tara's hand tightening briefly. "Girlfriend now, actually," she said, emphasizing the change in their relationship status. Tara's smile echoed the sentiment.

Sam's attention shifted to Amber, who stood opposite (Y/n) near Tara's bedside. She greeted her, only to receive a reluctant response. (Y/n) couldn't help but notice that Richie had only introduced himself back to Amber. Odd, she thought. The conversation turned to their absent mother, and Sam's inquiry highlighted her noticeable absence. Tara began to explain, "She's stuck at a conference in London, she called me earlier-"

Amber, ever the blunt one, cut her off, a clear note of resentment in her voice. "For all of ten minutes." Tara's gaze dropped to her lap, struggling to hold back her tears. The impact of Amber's words resonated through the room, prompting Amber to change the subject hastily. "Look, guys, Tara's really tired. Maybe we should just give her some space?"

The room seemed to agree in unison, with everyone beginning to leave. Tara's words, however, halted Sam. "Not you, Sam. I want you to stay." Sam's surprise was evident, but she nodded, her eyes welling up with gratitude. (Y/n) remained rooted by Tara's side, determined not to leave her.

"If it's okay with you, I can sleep here tonight?" Sam's voice was gentle, filled with the understanding that she was walking on fragile ground. Tara offered a smile, her heart warmed by her sister's presence. "I'd really like that."

(Y/n) reached out and took Sam's hand, offering her a genuine smile. "I'm glad you're here, Sam."

A soft shuffle drew their attention to Amber, who was still in the room. Leaning down to Tara's side, she whispered, "Do you have your extra inhaler?" Tara reassured her, and Amber left, with Richie following suit, his unease palpable.

As the door closed behind them, (Y/n) turned her attention back to Tara, her grip on Sam's hand not loosening.

Looking back to the sisters, (Y/n) noticed the intense exchange of looks between them, a telltale sign that a very private moment was about to unfold. As Tara's body trembled, (Y/n) instinctively moved closer, her presence offering a silent promise of comfort and support.

Tara's emotions began to well up, and (Y/n) could tell she was on the brink of tears. With a gentle shift, she positioned herself closer to Tara, her arm finding a reassuring place atop Tara's intertwined hands. The sisters seemed to exist in their own world, yet (Y/n)'s presence was a steady anchor, a reminder that they were not alone in this moment of vulnerability.

"Sam, I was so scared," Tara's voice quivered, the vulnerability in her tone exposing the depth of her feelings. Sam immediately slipped into her role as the older sister, tenderly brushing a strand of hair away from Tara's face and holding her close. (Y/n)'s touch provided an additional layer of comfort, a subtle gesture of solidarity that only she and Sam could offer.

"I know," Sam's voice was a soothing balm, a simple affirmation that carried the weight of understanding.

(Y/n)'s eyes fluttered open as the door to the hospital room closed with a soft click, momentarily rousing her from a light slumber. Her gaze scanned the room, searching for any signs of movement or activity. The absence of Sam's presence in the chair next to Tara's bedside was noticeable, but (Y/n) assumed she had stepped out briefly, perhaps for a bathroom break. She allowed her eyes to drift shut again, intent on drifting back into a peaceful doze.

However, her tranquility was shattered like fragile glass when a quiet scream sliced through the air, instantly jolting her into a state of wide-eyed alertness. Her heart raced, and her body tensed as she sat up in bed, the remnants of sleep clinging to her senses. Her gaze honed in on the corner of the room, where Richie was seated, his head bowed, eyes glued to the screen of his iPad. The chilling atmosphere was heightened by the unmistakable sounds of a horror movie playing – sounds she recognized all too well.

Confusion and alarm etched across her features as she tried to make sense of the situation. The eerie background noises were unmistakably from one of the "Stab" movies – a franchise born from the real-life horrors the town of Woodboro had endured, which has resulted in Tara's unfortunate circumstances. Her voice trembled slightly as she found the words to break the silence that had descended like a heavy fog.

"What is it? What's wrong?" she demanded urgently, her eyes locked onto Richie's figure, searching for any signs of explanation or rationality. His sudden shift in attention, his fingers hovering over the iPad's screen, was a testament to her abrupt intrusion into whatever he was engrossed in.

Richie's gaze lifted from the screen, his eyes wide with surprise at being caught. He seemed momentarily flustered by her presence and her questions, his attempt at playing it off failing to mask his unease.

(Y/n)'s frown deepened as the unsettling sounds of the movie reached her ears once again. She couldn't deny the familiar disquiet that they stirred within her, the haunting echoes of the past becoming tangible in the present. "Are you watching... Stab?" Her voice held a mix of incredulity and incredulousness. It was as if her mind couldn't quite grasp the reality of the situation – the fact that Richie, someone on the outskirts of their ordeal, would be voluntarily subjecting himself to this eerie re of  trauma.

A shy, almost apologetic smile tugged at the corners of Richie's lips. It was a blend of embarrassment and hesitation, like a person caught red-handed in the act of something they knew wouldn't be well-received. "It's on Netflix," he explained, as if the familiarity of the streaming platform justified his choice of entertainment.

(Y/n)'s puzzled look lingered, her brow furrowing as she tried to understand the reasoning behind his actions. His next words only added to her confusion. "I want to be prepared in case—"

An exasperated sigh escaped her lips before she could even stop herself. Her frustration at the bizarre scenario was palpable, and she found herself standing up from her seat with an urgency that demanded an explanation. She was careful not to disturb Tara, who continued to sleep soundly nearby. "If you wanted to be prepared, you'd be on Wikihow," she retorted, her tone a mix of sarcasm and annoyance. With a quiet but determined resolve, she left the room, needing a breather from the disconcerting situation that had unraveled before her.

The tension in the air seemed to cling to her as she stepped into the corridor, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and bewilderment. The strange confluence of events left her grappling with a sense of unease, a nagging feeling that there was more to Richie's actions than met the eye. She couldn't shake the distrust that had taken root, like a seed of doubt that had been planted deep within her mind.

Navigating the hospital's corridors, (Y/n)'s steps were measured and her thoughts a mixture of concern and confusion. She couldn't shake off the unsettling encounter with Richie, his bizarre fixation on watching horror movies as some twisted form of preparation. She needed a moment to herself, a sip of water perhaps, to distance herself from the eerie undercurrents that seemed to be flowing through the hospital.

Approaching the break room, the quiet hum of the hallway was disrupted by an alarming cacophony emanating from within. Banging, clattering, and muffled grunts created an eerie symphony that sent shivers down her spine. Perplexed, she slowed her steps, her curiosity warring with her instinct to flee the chaos.

Just as she was about to reach for the door handle, the scene before her shifted in a blur of motion. Sam burst out of the room, her features a mask of shock and desperation. (Y/n) barely had time to react as Sam collided with her, the impact sending her sprawling to the floor. Sam's startled face met hers, their eyes locking in a brief moment of shared astonishment.

(Y/n) felt Sam's arms gripping her own, attempting to pull her up in the midst of their collision. The urgency of Sam's movements hinted at a deeper turmoil, a frantic need to escape whatever had transpired within the break room. But their awkward positioning and the chaos of the situation only added to the confusion.

In the midst of the chaos, the attempt to stand turned into a clumsy shuffle, a precarious dance of limbs and urgency. Sam's grip faltered, and (Y/n) found herself slipping from her grasp. As if guided by a malevolent force, Sam's foot landed in an unfortunate spot, her heel connecting with (Y/n)'s temple in a jarring impact.

Pain exploded through (Y/n)'s head, and her vision blurred as a high-pitched ringing echoed in her ears. The world around her swirled in a disorienting haze, and she struggled to make sense of what was happening. A blurry figure moved in the periphery of her vision – Ghostface.

As abruptly as the chaos had begun, it ended. Ghostface retreated, leaving behind an unsettling void. (Y/n) remained on the floor, dazed and immobilized by the shock of the encounter. The echoes of Sam's pleas and the ominous sounds of struggle gradually faded, replaced by the hospital's familiar, muted hum.

Amid the disorientation, a nurse arrived on the scenel. (Y/n) blinked, her vision gradually clearing as the nurse's calm voice and gentle touch reassured her. With the nurse's support, (Y/n) managed to rise from the floor, the ache in her temple a persistent reminder of the chaotic collision.

Guided by the nurse, (Y/n) walked, her steps unsteady, back to Tara's hospital room. Tara's attack, the encounter with Richie, the tumult in the break room, it all felt like an eerie dream that she couldn't quite shake off.

(Y/n)'s head throbbed mercilessly, each step feeling like a hammer strike against her temples. The hospital's harsh lights pierced through her skull, sending shockwaves of pain radiating in all directions. She squinted, her hand instinctively shielding her eyes from the blinding assault. As the door to the hospital room drew near, her gaze shifted to Richie, who stood outside with an eerie intensity. His arms were crossed, his ear pressed against the door – a disturbing sight that set her on edge.

Intent on addressing Richie's unsettling behavior, (Y/n) was about to confront him when a sudden, shrill voice rent the air, tearing through the tense silence.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!"

Tara's raw, strained voice reverberated, piercing through the room like a knife. The scene froze, every person in the vicinity arrested by the unexpected outburst. Even the deputy stationed by the door widened his eyes in surprise. Richie, his demeanor shifting from curiosity to apprehension, swiftly moved out of the doorframe. (Y/n)'s light steps closed the gap between her and the unfolding situation, her heart pounding in anticipation.

With a strange sense of déjà vu, the door opened before her hand could even touch the handle. Sam stood before her, her face marred by blotchy redness and tear tracks. Clearly shaken by whatever had transpired inside the room, her eyes traced a path from the floor to (Y/n)'s face, finally settling on the bandaged temple. A quiet sniffle escaped Sam, her voice trembling as she spoke through her emotions.

"I'm sorry," (Y/n)'s lips curved into a small, reassuring smile, her gesture aimed at offering comfort amidst the chaos. She gently reassured Sam of her well-being before guiding her aside, her focus shifting to the heart of the storm – Tara.

Tara sat on the bed, her demeanor distant and lost in thought. Her gaze seemed to penetrate through everything, fixated on some invisible point in the distance. (Y/n) recognized that look – it was the expression of someone grappling with a truth too painful to fully comprehend. It was a mix of disbelief and realization, a storm of emotions brewing beneath a seemingly calm surface.

Whatever Sam had divulged in that room had clearly struck a deep chord within Tara. The weight of that revelation hung heavily in the air, casting a pall over the room and enveloping everyone in its shadow. (Y/n)'s heart went out to Tara, her desire to be a source of solace stronger than ever. As she approached the bed, she sent Tara a gentle, supportive look, silently offering her presence.

(Y/n) held Tara tightly, feeling the tremors coursing through her body as tears soaked her shoulder. Tara's voice wavered as she struggled to find words in the midst of her emotional turmoil.

"Why, (Y/n)? Why did Sam lie? Why did my mom keep this from me?"

(Y/n)'s own voice was laden with confusion as she held Tara closer, her heart aching for her girlfriend. "I don't know what you're talking about, Tara."

Tara's grip on (Y/n) tightened, as if she was seeking an anchor in the midst of the storm. "He was a killer, a psychopath. How could she be Billy Loomis' daughter?"

(Y/n)'s brows furrowed, her mind grappling to make sense of the pieces Tara was unveiling. Her mind was racing, trying to piece together the puzzle of their shattered reality. "Wait, are you saying Sam is... Billy Loomis' daughter?"

Tara's voice cracked, a mixture of anger and sorrow. "And my mom... how could she let me believe Sam was my sister all this time?"

(Y/n)'s fingers rubbed soothing circles on Tara's back, her own heart heavy with the weight of Tara's pain. "I can't even begin to understand, Tara."

Tara's breath hitched, her voice hollow as she questioned her own identity. "Who am I, (Y/n)? If Sam's not my sister, then... who is she?"

(Y/n)'s grip on Tara tightened as if trying to hold her pieces together. "We'll figure it out, Tara. We'll find the truth together."

Tara's voice wavered as she fought back a fresh wave of tears. Her eyes bore into her girlfriend's, seeking comfort from the sudden betrayal of her family. "I thought I knew my family, (Y/n). But now... everything feels shattered."

(Y/n)'s voice was a quiet reassurance, even though uncertainty gnawed at her. "You're not alone in this, Tara. I'll be here for you every step of the way."

Tara's voice was barely above a whisper, her pain palpable. "I don't even know who my mother is anymore."

(Y/n)'s own confusion mirrored Tara's, her voice filled with empathy. "I can't imagine what you're going through, Tara. But we'll face this together."

Tara's tear-streaked face turned up to (Y/n)'s, eyes searching for something she couldn't quite name. "(Y/n), promise me you won't leave. Promise you'll stay, no matter how messy things get."

(Y/n)'s voice was a fervent vow, her heartache mingling with her commitment. "I promise, Tara. I'm not going anywhere."

The familiar chatter of Dawson Creek filled the hospital room, Tara had turned it on as background noise, to drown out the violent flashes that seemed to submerge her mind. Frustration etched lines on her face as her gaze darted repeatedly towards the door, her impatience festering like an open wound.

A sideways glance at the television in her heightened state snagged her attention, the unfolding scene appearing almost like a twisted mirror to her reality.

"Are the doors locked?"

"Yeah we should check the doors. Joey and Pacey, get the front door. Jen and Cliff, get flashlights-"

A guttural sound reverberated from the corridor, followed by a heavy thud as something crashed to the floor. Goosebumps prickled on Tara's arms, though she tried to dismiss the noise as inconsequential, perhaps a clumsy officer dropping an item or the sound of (Y/n)'s return with her food.

"Hello?"

Her voice carried down the corridor, swallowed by the eerie silence that remained.

"Hello?"

Tara's desperation seeped through her words now, a desperate plea for any sound to shatter the oppressive quietness. Dawson's Creek, once a comforting companion, now seemed to taunt her vulnerability.

"Please. Quit tripping out. This is just Dawson up to his old tired tricks. There's no psychopath in this house."

"Fuck this."

Tara's patience wore thin, her nerves on edge as she disconnected herself from the monitors, their shrill alarms underscoring her own helplessness. With deft movements, she unhooked the uncomfortable nasal cannula from her nose and braced herself, the sharp pain from her cast colliding with the wheelchair's leg serving as a painful reminder of her limitations. Suppressing a cry of pain, she hoisted herself into the seat, the effort eliciting a whimper as her injured body strained. Clinging to the wheels, she propelled herself towards the door, the wounds on her palms reopening and drenching her bandages in fresh blood. Soft whimpers of agony accompanied her every move as she struggled to reach (Y/n), to alert her of the ominous sounds that could threaten them both.

She couldn't bear the thought of (Y/n) enduring the same horrors she had faced.

Reaching the end of the bed, a deafening ringing of her cellphone pierced the air, rendering Tara motionless. Her gaze dropped to her bloodied hands, the pain radiating up her arms like a symphony of agony, the shrill sound clamouring for her retreat. But the possibility of Saffron's danger galvanized her resolve, overriding her own suffering.

The corridor stretched before her, devoid of life, its emptiness heightening the chilling atmosphere. Ignoring her aching body, Tara maneuvered herself towards the reception area, a mixture of tears and sobs punctuating her progress. Desperation hung in the air as she hoped for a lifeline. The creaking of the wheels subsided, replaced by a wet, gurgling sound that sent shivers down her spine. Slowing to a halt, she observed the gruesome scene before her. An officer lay sprawled behind the reception desk, his uniform soaked in blood that spewed from a savage gash on his neck. Tara's face contorted in a mask of anguish, her hand flying to her mouth to muffle the horrified gasp that escaped her lips. Dreadful realization gripped her – her fears were not unfounded; Ghostface had returned, and (Y/n)'s absence was far too long for Tara's comfort.

A sudden noise, the echo of a door closing, shattered Tara's stupor. Hastily, she wheeled herself into a nearby storage closet, a groan slipping from her lips as the blood-soaked bandages abraded her skin with every movement. Swinging the door shut, she left a slender crack through which she observed the corridor, her grip tightening on a landline she'd found, her trembling fingers desperate for a lifeline. Another door opened, and Tara's breath caught,

"Holy shit," she muttered under her breath. The footsteps grew closer, the thud of boots resonating like a heartbeat. Her fingers clenched around the phone, her only defense in this macabre dance.

As the heavy footsteps made their way towards the door, a blanket of black covered the small room, sending Tara into darkness. Her breath hitched as she attempted to stay quiet, gripping the phone tightly into her hand, knuckles turning white. A figure quickly popped their head in through the door, as Tara swung the phone in her hand with as much power as she could physically muster.

"Ow! Ow," Richie's pained cry echoed as he crumbled to his knees, his grip loosening on his throbbing head., "Goddamn it!"

"Richie?" Tara's gaze bore into him, suspicion lacing her voice. She inched her wheelchair back, her movements cautious and deliberate, as if he were a wounded animal on the verge of attack. Slowly, he pulled himself upright, using the door handle for support. "What are you doing here?"

"Sam called. She said that... you were in trouble." Still touching the spot on his head where he was hit he trailed off, thinking for a moment before his eyes glanced at the phone hanging from its cord.

"Did you hit me with a phone?"

Before Tara could answer, a familiar figure popped up behind Richie. Raising its knife to strike him, "Look out!" Richie swung around being face to face with the killer and their knife.

Richie's reflexes saved him, his arm instinctively raised to defend himself, but the blade still found purchase, carving a deep gash. The sickening sound of metal slicing through flesh reverberated through the room. Richie fought back, grappling with Ghostface in a desperate bid for survival. He clung to the wrist holding the knife, muscles straining as he wrestled for control. The room bore witness to their struggle, the tension suffocating.

Ghostface overpowered Richie, slamming him into the doorframe with a brutal force that left him limp and unresponsive. The scene hung in the air, frozen in time, as Tara absorbed the sight of Richie's motionless body and the shadowy figure that stood ominously before it. Ghostface turned towards her, tilting their head almost mockingly. The only chance of being saved she had was now lying in a heap before her, she was trapped.

With a surge of adrenaline, Tara shoved a monitor off a nearby table, sending it crashing onto Ghostface. As they grappled with the equipment, she seized her chance, propelling herself out of the room. Each movement was an agony, the searing pain from her injuries an unrelenting torment. Her eyes darted around the hallway, seeking an escape route. The elevator stood at the far end, a glimmer of hope beckoning in the darkness.

But it was a sight just outside the elevator that froze her in her tracks. (Y/n)'s bloodied form slumped against the doors, her pallor unnaturally ashen, eyes barely open, her body drenched in a grotesque tapestry of red. Their eyes met, the depth of their shared anguish unfurling between them in an instant, as Tara let out a scream of anguish.

Ghostface's chilling presence reappeared, the masked figure stalking towards Tara, savoring every moment of her terror. This was a twisted game to them, a sadistic symphony of agony orchestrated for their amusement. Tara could feel the walls closing in, every avenue of escape closing off one by one, the air thick with desperation.

They only wanted one thing, their sick and twisted game was going to end with both girls suffering the same fate.

Death

(Y/n)'s rhythmic foot-tapping on the cool pavement outside the bustling hospital entrance seemed like a minor rebellion against the day's clinical monotony. Overhead lights hummed with a steady cadence, while the cacophony of voices and footsteps surged like a river each time the door swung open. Sympathy and guilt had compelled her to venture out, bringing a taste of the outside world back to Tara – a meal that bore no resemblance to the sorry hospital fare.

The crispness of the air was a stark contrast to the confined, stuffy room she had been sharing with Tara. She had needed this brief reprieve, a moment to clear her mind and shake off the heavy emotional burden that had been pressing on her chest. As she let herself drift in the serenity of the moment, the world around her dissipated into a blur.

But then, a sudden thud shattered the tranquility. Her body tensed, a wave of unease crashing over her. It was as if a switch had been flipped, yanking her out of her peaceful reverie and back into the harsh reality. A chill raced down her spine as her senses sharpened, her heart pounding a staccato rhythm in her chest. The tranquility had been a facade – a fragile mirage that now lay shattered around her.

Her movements were slow, deliberate, as she turned to face the source of the noise. Dread knotted her stomach, and a cold sweat formed on her brow despite the gentle breeze that tousled her hair. The alley stretched before her, a corridor of shadow cast by the hospital's imposing structure. Trash cans lined the walls in uneven intervals, creating pockets of darkness that whispered with hidden potential.

Her gaze flitted from one corner to another, her pupils dilating as they fought to make sense of the murky gloom. Time seemed to slow as her heartbeat thrummed in her ears, the sound of her own breath growing louder in her ears. It was the alleyway that was her blind spot all along, a trap that she had unknowingly set for herself.

The feeling of being watched crawled under her skin, a persistent sensation that refused to relent. Her muscles tensed, her senses on high alert as she scanned every inch of the alley, seeking out the slightest sign of movement. Her fear was no longer an abstract emotion; it was a tangible force that gripped her like a vise.

The uncertainty gnawed at her, her mind racing through scenarios and possibilities. Was it just her imagination, or was there a real threat lurking in the shadows? Her every instinct screamed at her to flee, to retreat back into the safety of the hospital's embrace. But her body remained rooted, a strange mix of curiosity and terror keeping her in place.

In the shifting dance between light and shadow, her imagination began to conjure shapes – figures that could have been lurking, waiting. Every whisper of wind seemed to echo with menace, every rustle of garbage sent a shiver down her spine. It was as if the very fabric of the alley had come alive, a living embodiment of her fear.

In this chilling tableau, (Y/n) stood at the precipice of action. The alleyway, once an inconspicuous backdrop, had morphed into a stage for a silent, sinister drama. The weight of her decisions pressed heavily upon her, each moment stretching into an eternity as she grappled with her next move.

Amidst the tense backdrop of the alley, a sharp and jarring ring erupted from (Y/n)'s pocket, the sound piercing through the heavy air like a sudden warning. Her phone's vibrations reverberated against her leg, a stark reminder of the urgent reality that was beginning to unravel around her. With a swift and practiced motion, she fished her cellphone from her pocket, her fingers trembling slightly with a mix of apprehension and adrenaline.

The screen illuminated, revealing the caller's name – Sam. Her heart raced as she registered the significance of the incoming call. In a world where danger lurked in every shadow, a call from someone close could carry critical information or a vital warning. Her mind raced as she weighed the importance of answering this call against the potential threat that lingered in the alleyway.

Before she could even consider her next move, the abrupt sound of a door slamming echoed through the confined space, a stark reminder of the lurking peril that demanded her attention. The killer – the very embodiment of the threat that had been gnawing at her senses – was out there, somewhere, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. The reality of the situation surged back, and her instincts kicked into overdrive.

Frozen in shock, her hand still clutching the phone, she could feel her pulse pounding in her ears, each heartbeat a reminder of the perilous situation she was in. Her heart waged a battle with her rationality – answer the call and possibly get much-needed information or stay hyperaware of her surroundings to avoid a potentially deadly encounter.

With her senses on high alert, she managed to answer the call, her voice edged with tension. She held the phone to her ear, her eyes sharply focused on the alleyway, her breath held as she strained to hear any sound – any hint of the danger that might be lurking in the darkness. The voice on the other end became a distant murmur as her attention remained riveted on the shadows, her mind racing to analyze every movement, every flicker of movement, ready to react at a moment's notice.

"(Y/n)?" Her urgent voice cracked through the phone's speakers, each syllable carrying a weight of concern that matched the gravity of the situation. "Are you still with Tara?"

(Y/n)'s eyes remained locked onto the oppressive darkness before her, her senses on high alert. The words poured from the phone, a lifeline to the outside world in a moment that felt far from safe. "I'm just standing outside the hospital, waiting on food," she replied, her voice carrying a tremor of unease. But Sam's call wasn't just a casual check-in, it held an undercurrent of urgency that (Y/n) couldn't ignore. "Why?"

A pause hung in the air, heavy and fraught with tension, as Sam's next words crashed into (Y/n)'s consciousness like an oncoming storm. "Wes and Officer Hicks were murdered and the deputy is here—" The news hit (Y/n) like a physical blow, a gut-punch of shock and horror that reverberated through her entire being. Wes, one of her best friends since childhood, was gone. Along with his mother who was the head of the entire investigation on Ghostface.

(Y/n)'s body went rigid, her grip on the phone tightening as her mind raced through the implications of Sam's words. Panic surged within her, the realization striking like a bolt of lightning – if the deputy was gone from his post at the hospital, who was guarding Tara? Her thoughts spiraled into a frenzy, every worst-case scenario playing out in her mind's eye, a cruel montage of potential threats.

Before Sam could continue, before her mind could fully grapple with the sheer vulnerability of the situation, (Y/n)'s voice cut through the connection, her urgency and fear spilling forth. "Sam, get here as fast as you possibly can—"

It was a decision born out of desperation, a gamble made in the haze of fear. The door, positioned halfway down the ominous alley, loomed before her like a lifeline – a portal that could potentially lead her back to the safety of Tara's side. (Y/n)'s heart raced, each thud a reminder of the seconds ticking away, the precious moments that separated her from danger and sanctuary.

Without hesitation, fueled by adrenaline and a singular purpose, (Y/n)'s legs churned as she sprinted down the alley. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her shoes barely touching the ground as if propelled by sheer willpower. The thought of Tara, vulnerable and alone, provided a pulse of urgency that propelled her forward despite the terror gnawing at her heels.

The door, unassuming yet laden with potential, drew closer with each stride. Her trembling hand gripped the handle, the cold metal a stark contrast to her heated skin. In her frantic rush, even the simplest action felt like a monumental task. The door resisted, a stubborn barrier between her and the haven she sought. With a surge of determination, she managed to wrench it open, her body propelled into the relative safety of the hospital's stairwell.

The rush of relief was fleeting, quickly replaced by the stark realization that safety was a fragile illusion. She glanced around, her eyes scanning for any means to secure the entrance, to lock out the danger lurking in the shadows. Her gaze settled on a latch positioned overhead, a glimmer of hope in the dimly lit corridor.

Her fingers, slick with sweat and trembling with urgency, reached for the latch. Stretching on her tiptoes, her heart hammering against her ribs, she managed to engage the lock. A sigh of relief brushed her lips, a fleeting moment of victory as she turned to ascend the stairs that would take her to Tara.

But destiny is a cruel mistress, and the instant she turned around, a cold wall of black fabric met her, halting her progress. Panic surged like a tidal wave, her heart leaping to her throat as she gazed into the abyss of a familiar and malevolent presence.

They hadn't remained trapped in the alley, they hadn't faltered in their pursuit. They had anticipated her move, outmaneuvered her once again. And now, in this suffocating confrontation, the balance between life and death seemed as fragile as a spider's thread.

(Y/n)'s weary gaze remained fixated on Tara’s figure as she battled through the torment in her body to reach her. The moist, sickening sound of her bloodied hands against the wheels echoed in her ears as she desperately moved away from the looming presence of Ghostface, who lingered ominously behind her.

Numbness had spread through (Y/n)'s body, the pain becoming a distant sensation amidst the overwhelming chaos. Each movement sent shocks of agony, a relentless reminder of her recent ordeal. Her hands, coated in her own life fluid, struggled to propel her fragile form across the sterile hospital floor, leaving a macabre trail in her wake. The weight of exhaustion threatened to collapse her, her weakened form almost crumpling as she ventured away from the reassuring support of the wall.

The taste of desperation mingled with the metallic tang of blood in her mouth, as if her very life force was seeping away with every agonizing inch she managed to cover.

Richie’s cell phone erupted into a shrill ring, and Ghostface spun around, reaching toward Richie's slumped body to extract the phone from his pocket. Their gloved fingers cautiously pressed a button near the bottom of their mask, causing it to start flashing red. (Y/n) strained to make out the concerned tone of Sam’s voice through the phone's speaker, though the words remained elusive.

“Hello, Samantha!” Ghostface's distorted voice sliced through the air, stalking closer to a terror-stricken Tara, who had managed to put some distance between them, but the gap could be closed quickly.

“Richie can’t come to the phone right now. He’s finding out what happens to people who stick their noses in business that doesn’t concern them.”

“I’ll tell you what you can choose; I’ll only kill one,” the distorted voice continued, chilling (Y/n) to her core.

Sam's voice, desperate and pleading, cut through the phone's crackling. (Y/n) shifted her gaze briefly to Tara, who was putting more space between herself and the advancing Ghostface, her sobs growing louder.

“Who do you want to hear die?”

Amidst the fear and tension, Sam's desperate cries carried through the line, and Ghostface reveled in the torment, his taunts aimed at the terrified girls. (Y/n) knew that Ghostface's intention was to kill both of them, but she clung to a flicker of hope that Sam's plan might ensure Tara's survival.

“Really? You can’t save your own sister? All you have to do is say 'Kill Richie,' because I don’t think (Y/n)’s making it out either way!”

With an adrenaline-fueled surge, (Y/n)'s resolve solidified. If she couldn't escape this nightmare, she was willing to give her life to protect the person she loved most.

“Fuck you!” Tara's scream echoed through the hallway as Ghostface charged toward her. The wheelchair crashed to the floor, and Tara began crawling toward (Y/n), her fingers desperately gripping the cold linoleum.

“Or say 'Kill Tara!' And I’ll make sure to hit all the organs I missed last time!”

Tara's fingers found (Y/n)'s side, gripping her as she attempted to shield her from Ghostface’s impending attack.

“Last chance to save one, choose!” Ghostface's taunting voice pierced the air, echoing the desperate plea from Sam through the phone.

(Y/n) heard Sam's voice, laced with grief and pain, clearer than ever, “Why are you doing this?”

“You want to know why, Sam? Maybe it's because you’re a selfish bitch, who can’t even make a decision to save the life of someone you love.”

“Maybe you’re too weak for this franchise!”

Ghostface's legs closed in around both girls, (Y/n) straining to shield Tara from the imminent danger. She was prepared to bear the brunt of the attack, if it meant giving Tara a chance to escape. Tara's grip tightened, and her voice rose in defiance.

“Maybe you’re right?” Sam's voice sounded broken, defeated. (Y/n)'s heart sank; had Sam truly given up?

“Or maybe I’m just stalling for time, fuckhead!”

A sudden ping signaled the opening of the elevator doors, interrupting Ghostface's impending strike. Startled, Ghostface looked away for a fleeting moment. In that instant, (Y/n)'s heart raced, her hope rekindling. Through the elevator doors stood Sam and Dewey. Dewey fired off several shots down the hallway, sending Ghostface retreating and disappearing into a different corridor.

Dewey sprinted to Richie's side, who was sprawled a few meters behind, while Sam rushed to (Y/n) and Tara. (Y/n)'s vision wavered, the agony in her body muddling her perception of the chaos around her. She strained to hear Tara's soft whimpers amidst the commotion as Sam worked to move her sister.

Guiding Tara toward the elevator doors, Sam reassured (Y/n) that she would be back for her as soon as Tara was safely inside. Dewey, with his arm under Richie, led him back, but their progress was abruptly halted as Ghostface reappeared. In the ensuing struggle, Richie was thrown to the ground, and Dewey and Ghostface locked in a fierce grapple, colliding into walls and grappling each other.

The fight escalated, both men grappling and wrestling for control, until they crashed onto the floor. Dewey's gun skidded across the tiles, out of reach. Ghostface lunged, attempting to strike Dewey, but the seasoned officer managed to use his strength to headbutt Ghostface, buying him a moment to seize his gun. When Dewey turned, Ghostface charged once more, knife poised for a lethal strike. Dewey acted swiftly, firing several shots into Ghostface's chest, propelling him into a glass shelf with a shattering crash.

With Richie in his arms, Dewey retreated, heading back to (Y/n), who lay motionless on the floor. Gently lifting her, he heard her faint whimpering—a sign that she was alive. He swiftly pressed the elevator's call button, ushering them inside as the doors slid open.

The events inside the elevator remained a blur to (Y/n), her consciousness slipping. Richie's arms provided a faint anchor, and Dewey's voice seemed distant as he vanished from view. The resonating ring in her ears drowned out the ensuing conversations, though she surmised that Dewey was likely heading back to deal with Ghostface for good.

“Dewey, who cares?” Sam's voice echoed, her urgency palpable as she sought to ensure no further lives were lost.

The elevator doors began to close on Dewey's retreating figure, his final words reaching (Y/n)'s ears like a distant echo, “I do.”

UHDJCOFMEJ

CAN YOU WRITE A BAKUGOU X READER FIC WHERE READER HAS A MIND READING QUIRK AND SHE USES IT ON HIM??????

♡ SMUTTTTT WITH PLOT

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

ALSO LOVE YOUR WORKSSSSS!¡

Can i be 🚀 anon????? 💋💋💋

Ofc you can! Thank you for the compliments♥︎♥︎

Characters are 18+

Bakugo honestly didn't give a flying fuck that another student was joining their class. You'd just be another extra in the background, another obstacle he had to pass to become Number One Hero-if you even were that good.

The day you stepped into that classroom is the day those thoughts went to shit. You were stunning. Your style (if you have an obvious one like goth, etc.), your body, your face, voice, everything. And when you described your quirk? He was flustered.

Sure, it wasn't something that would impress him usually, but knowing you probably knew what he thought was enough to bring redness to his ears.

And unfortunately for him it didn't go unnoticed.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

A few weeks later he finds himself between your legs, a collar and leash around his neck, slurping and sucking on your pussy like a good puppy.

Your legs squished his head deliciously and the collar restricting some of his air, made him squish his thighs together to try and release some tension off his weeping cock.

The pink vibrator hummed against his balls, but it was hardly enough. His hips buckled as you pressed your foot on his cock.

"What's wrong, pretty boy?" It was a mocking coo. He knew you were well aware of what he wanted, even without using your quirk. His cock was standing at attention between his legs, the tip flushed and leaking precum like a faucet. Not to mention the smack sound it made everytime it hit his abs if he moved his thighs.

"Wanna fuck you...please! Pleaseplease I've been good, right? Please tell me I've been good! Please! Wanna fuck you so bad..ngh!"

He whimpers when you press your lips to his, tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Hm...I suppose you've been good eno-Angh! Katsuki!!" He doesn't even let you breathe before he throws your legs over his shoulders, thrusting his needy cock inside your dripping cunt.

Squelching sounds and skin on skin echo around the room and no matter how hard you tug on his leash, it only serves for him to slam his throbbing dick deeper inside you. His swollen tip almost hit your cervix with every slam of his hips and your ass reddened by his thighs hitting it repeatedly.

It was a sight to die for. His hair was disheveled, tears and drool streaming down his face and chin as a chorus of "thank you's" and "please" left his lips.

You wanted to tell him to slow down, to stop his relentless pace on your abused pussy, but once his lips found your perked nipples, you were a gonner.

He was a blabbering mess, cum and slick covering both your thighs as his legs trembled before falling on his forearms.

You sighed out a breath of relief as he stopped, even for a moment.

"You did such a good jo-Katsuki!! Not again!!"

Oh you thought he was finished? As if! He was planning to have your warm, clenching cunt around his cock the whole night. It just felt too good! To have you squirting and gripping his cock in a vice grip while your juices gushed and covered his thighs.

"F-fuuckkk! 'm gonna cum! Pleasepleaseplease I'm gonna cum! Haaah...!~ Hnngh!~"

He cries out as he bites down on your shoulder, making a small amount of blood drip out of the bite mark while he fucks his load back inside you. His tongue laps at the blood as he throws you into a doggy position. Next thing you know, your head is pressed to the pillows by one of his large hands while he pounds your ass, spanking you with the other hand.

In any other scenario you would have complained at the very least but being cockdrunk while an equally as pussydrunk man was pounding into you like a feral animal wasn't really helping.

And they were roommates...

Pairing: Pornstar!Geto Suguru x reader

Did it matter that pornstar!Geto had openly admitted that he was a pornstar to you the second you met? No. And did it matter he used you for his porn videos? Absolutely....not.

Pornstar!Suguru was never one for attachments, considering his job, but with you? Ugh, how could he resist? The way your walls clenched down on him after a particularly hard thrust had him want to rip that condom off of his dick and just make you have his children ♡. Just the thought had him shooting ropes of cum in the condom with some of it slipping into your pussy. And then he'll just eat you out, fingers pumping lazily in and out of you, his tongue lickling at your clit until your thighs are practically shaking.

You're busy? Too bad. Doing the dishes? His camera is set on the counter, your back arched and legs trembling from the harsh pounding you were taking from behind. Slick and cum mixed together with the dish soap on the ground, dirtying both of you.

One of his hands played with your perky nipples, the other rubbing tight circles on your clit. And with all that stimulation, who could blame you when you squirted on his dick like a dirty whore? Afterwards being forced to take his dick orgasm after orgasm until you pass out. Even then he spends some time thrusting his cock in between your thighs, the friction barely enough to give you satisfaction but enough to wake you.

...

And when he calls pornstar!Satoru over? Don't get me started....

♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡

Floating

—————

Kenny McKormic x reader

3,928 words

All characters are 18+

Kenny returns to South Park after disappearing for 2 years upon turning 16. When he comes back with enough money to outright buy a house, you are unsure how to approach and talk to the man you had been so close to for so long. Luckily, he doesn't take you inviting yourself in with his spare key to be rude and instead invites you to join him in his room.

TW: W33d usage

The cold air stings your face as you walk down the street, listening to the show crunching underfoot with every step you take. Tentative breaths curl in the air, almost dancing in front of your eyes as you continue down the street. As much as you adored a fresh snow fall, you hated the way the freezing feeling would nip at your nose.

Footprints behind you show the path you’ve taken from your house, untouched by anyone or anything. Turns out you were the only person stupid enough to leave your house today. Even though you lived in the mountains, no one else was willing to face the frigid outside apart from you. But it was going to be worth it when you finally arrived at your destination.

Your mind wanders as do your feet, thinking about what you’re going to say to him when you finally arrive at his house. He had been gone for so long, dipping out of South Park when He was 16 and only coming back a few months ago. Sure, you had been his friend for so long before that happened, but what would He think of you now? He had been gone for practically two years. And when He had finally reappeared, He had enough money to outright buy a house and refused to talk about what He had done to get the money.

Your eyes seem to come back into focus when you’re practically on his door step. Looking up at the two-story house that He shared with his parents, staring at his window and wondering what He was going to say to you.

The spare key He kept tucked under a small rock was easy to find, obviously you still knew him better than He thought you did. Slipping it into the door, your mind wandered once again, this time racing faster than it had in a long time. Although it felt wring to slip into his house like this unannounced, you were more than grateful at the warm air greeting your frozen features.

Standing by the door, you slipped of the black snow boots and shrugged the dusty green jacket off your shoulders. The warm air almost seemed to kiss life back into your half-dead skin. It was a sensation that almost stopped you in your tracks, just wanting to indulge in the feeling, like moving out strip it away. But you knew you had to move, you had come this far, you couldn’t stop now.

As you begin to make your way up the stairs you become overly aware of a pungent and funky sent. It washes over your body in waves until you’re completely consumed by it. You know exactly what that smell is, but you don’t want to think about it. Not right not at least.

Despite trying your best to ignore it, you really can’t. Especially not when you finally get to the top of the stairs and see what you can only assume to be his door cracked open. You knew that was where the smell was coming from and somehow, just somehow, it didn’t shock you.

You have to take a deep breath to steady your racing Heart, trying to convince yourself He wasn’t going to freak out at you for arriving and inviting yourself in uninvited, but nothing you did could quell the queasiness growing in your chest.

The door was smooth under your palm, no temperature difference between the varnish and your skin. It seemed to push back as you pushed it open, a fight between you and the carpet to get the door to move out of your way. But it was all worth it when you were met with a vision of him half sprawled out on his bed. His hair was a partially ruffled mess of smooth blond locks sticking out every which way, seeming to shine slightly in the delicate light the small desk lamp on his bedside table. He was clad in nothing but grey sweats, blue and yellow socks and small black band shirt that rose up to expose the band of his boxers. His Head and upper back were partially propped up against the wall his bed was pushed up against.

Everything in your body seemed to still in the moment that his eyes met yours. Dopy and half closed, red rimmed with and almost euphoric sparkle.

“Hey Kenny…” You trail off, still wishing you had just turn tail and run before you even reached his front door.

Your eyes dropped to his signature orange parka crumpled in a Heap on the floor when He didn’t say anything. Any time you managed to push yourself to look at him, his eyes were wide in shock and confusion, but nothing said anger about him.

“(Y/n)?...” He sat up straight, both hands pressing into his rumpled sheets as He leaned forwards to get at better look at you. “I… I wasn’t expecting you,” his voice was uncertain as He spoke, almost like He was just as nervous as you.

“I know, I probably should’ve said something instead of just… coming round and letting myself in,” You could feel the voice crack that hit you half way through speaking and you cringed, having to resist the urge to recoil and practically fold into yourself.

“No, no, it’s ok.” Kenny swallowed hard, looking quickly between you and the blunt still propped up neatly in his right hand. “Come… Come and sit with me? And close the door too, please.” HE sounded so nervous as He spoke, trying not to say something wrong.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him running his left hand through his hair, trying to sort it out as you pushed the door over till you Head it click shut.

“Want me to lock it too?”

“Yeah.”

Once you turned around, Kenny had pulled his shirt back down and was looking at you, observing you. It didn’t take long for you to take a deep breath of the Heavily weed scented air and finally start moving to sit on the edge of his bed.

If this were anyone else, any other house you had just walked into uninvited, any other of your friends, you would’ve sat nervously. Perched nervously on the edge of the bed like you were scared of ruining their sheets or upsetting them by getting to comfortable in their space. But this was Kenny, so you had to stop yourself from falling back onto the bed and holding your hand up for him to pass you the blunt.

“Why do you look so nervous?” It felt like He was reading your mind.

“Cuz I just kinda… turned up without saying anything to you? You could’ve been doing anything.”

“I’m glad you showed up.” There was a moment of silence after He said that, especially as your eyes met and, just for a second in the low light of the room, you thought you could see dark bubbling deep in his eyes. “I feel like we haven’t talked enough since I came back to South Park.”

You felt the same way. You had only seen Kenny a few times in the 5 months He had been back, and it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy your craving to be around the blond.

“Yeah, me either…”

The conversation felt so dry, nothing like it should. Nothing like you wanted it to.

“Fuck it, Wanna get high with me?” There was the Kenny you knew, the Kenny you had sobbed saying goodbye to at 16, the same one who had hugged you so hard you though your ribcage might burst and told you not to tell anyone He was going soft.

“Thought you’d never ask,” your grin carried in your voice as you spoke, holding a hand up and waiting for him to place the bling neatly between your two waiting forefingers.

Except He didn’t pass you the blunt. Instead, He Held a hand up to you, signalling for you to wait as He brought it to his own lips and pulled in a deep breath. Your eyes drifted down to his chest, watching it rise slowly as He inhaled. His shirt shifted with the movement, showing more of the graphic on the front.

Your concentration was broken by his spare hand coming to cup your face, tilting your face towards his. There wasn’t a moment for you to speak before He was pulling you in and firmly planting his lips against yours. They were softer than you had expected them to be. The kiss was sloppy and wet yet ever so tentative.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt Kenny’s lips open. They only parted slightly but you couldn’t Help but mimic his actions. One of your hands fell over the top of his, cupping it and keeping it firmly planted on your face.

Only when Kenny began to breathe out did you realise what the actual purpose of the kiss was. Slowly, you began to inhale the smoke that was pouring out of his lungs. It went down smoothly, gliding down your throat and settling in your lungs.

Once He was sure you had taken it all in, Kenny’ slowly began to pull away, eyes pulling open until He was staring into yours. His blue eyes seemed to almost sparkle in the low lighting of the room, especially as you watched them gently shift back and forth between yours, almost looking for something, a reaction of any kind. And He got it when you let out a gentle giggle, the smoke spilling from your lips and curling into the already saturated air; curling and dancing around both of your necks, almost seeming to pull you in closer.

Kenny’s face light up in a blush as you giggle, but He doesn’t dare move away. He can feel the Head of your soft breaths on his face and it drawn him in again. He wants to feel your lips, your body. It’s probably the weed driving him, placing calming hands on his shoulders and urging him forwards – but He’s sure you’ve never looked prettier in his entire life.

By the time you’ve finished giggling, Kenny had finally moved away and it taking another long drag from the blunt. He offers it to you and you take it gratefully, pulling it up to your lips and pulling in a deep breath. You notice that, just as you had when He first pulled in a breath, Kenny was watching the rise and fall of your chest carefully. His eyes didn’t move even as you Held the smoke in your lungs, even as you breathed out – He was acutely focused on you.

“Kiss me.” It was blunt, his eyes moving up to stare intensely into yours as He said it.

You felt Heat rise to your face as you chocked on your own saliva. Covering your mouth with a balled first you practically crumped up, folding in half as you tried to clear your throat. Your Heart pumped rapidly against your chest as you tried to still your mind and think clearly about what He had said.

“Is that a no?”

You sat up when you heard him speak, nearly dropping the blunt that was still balanced precariously between your forefingers.

“No! I just- caught me off guard,” your voice wobbles as you speak, taking deep breaths and forcing yourself to look into his eyes.

Once again, silence settled between the both of you as your eyes met. Only this time, it didn’t end in one of you taking a drag from the now spent blunt, or an awkward comment – but rather in another kiss.

Kenny pressed his lips against yours, one hand moving to cup your face while the other takes the blunt from your hand. You relax, tilting your Head and leaning into the kiss as He fumbles behind the both of you to get rid of the blunt in an ashtray on his bedside table. His lips were soft against yours, wet from where he had been licking them. You move to hold onto his shoulders, moving your lips against his in perfect harmony.

The hand that had previously been fiddling with the ashtray moved to rest on your waist, massaging the soft flesh through the hoodie you were wearing. Slowly, he began to guide you, swivelling you around until your head was laying on his pillow. Not once was did his lips move away from yours while he shifted.

Your hands move from where they had been resting on his biceps, slowly gliding up to his shoulders and into his messy golden-blond locks. Carding your fingers through his hair, you began to feel the need to breathe and had to gently tug on his hair to get him to pull away.

The second his lips were parted from yours, He was attacking your neck. Sloppy kisses down the side of your neck, right over your pulse point. He was leaving a trail of saliva as He went, beginning to slowly nip at the conjunction between your shoulder and your neck.

Kenny began to nip harder at your skin, sucking gently on the spot he was nipping. You let out a quiet moan from deep in your throat, pulling gently at his hair as he continued his ministrations. Finally, he pulled away, kissing the small and newly forming bruise.

“Fuck…” His breath puffed out over your now wet neck.

“Kenny,” You moaned gently, head tilted back and eyes squeezed closed.

Kenny’s hands began to slide under your shirt, splaying over your stomach. His thumbs began to move, brushing gently over your soft skin. You arch you back, pushing against his gently calloused hands.

“Can I take this off?” He mumbled into your neck, hands pulling out of your shirt to gently tug at it. You nodded gently as an answer, mumbling out a soft yes.

With your confirmation, he began to pull your shirt up and over your head. You had to arch your back and roll with him to help him pull it off. As soon as the shirt was no longer on your body, it was thrown to the floor beside his parka and his mouth was on your abdomen. More sloppy kisses were being placed on your heated skin, trailing down towards the top of your jeans.

He doesn’t even speak this time, just looking up at you with his gorgeous blue eyes and hooking his fingers into the top. The gentle tugging and ideas of what were to come drove you to lift your hips and let out a gentle whine. As soon as he felt your hips lift up, he was undoing the button and tugging your jeans down your legs. They were discarded on the floor beside your shirt within seconds of finally being freed from your legs.

You felt arousal drip into a pool un your stomach, causing your slick to pool in your panties as you waited for him to remove them. Instead, shock hit you as you felt his tongue press against your core through the silk material of your panties.

“Kenny!” you gasp, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at him. His eyes were closed in what looked like bliss, lips pressed against your clothed entrance. He didn’t open his eyes, even when you laced a hand into his hair and tugged slightly.

Kenny pulled away slightly, lips still ghosting your panties as he mumbled something. You couldn’t hear it, but you didn’t have time to ask about it as he pressed his mouth against you again. It felt amazing, even through your panties.

It doesn’t last much longer as Kenny presses his hands against the outsides of your thighs. Pushing against them slightly and moving upwards until his fingers are slipping under the thin straps that hug your hips. He pulls away far enough to slide off your panties, letting them drop one he’s pulled them off your knees. You take a second to kick them off properly, tossing them in a direction you’re not quite sure of. They were probably gonna be lost in Kenny’s room until he cleaned up a little.

You look down as him, watching him carefully as he stares at your dripping core. Embarrassment rises in your chest as you watch him stare. Eventually it becomes too much and you let yourself fall back, pulling an arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your own elbow.

The feeling doesn’t last long though, as Kenny grabs your things, pulling them up onto his shoulders and tentatively pressing his lips against your now exposed core. Everything felt so sensitive as he began to run his tongue through your folds, groaning against your pussy. You manage another peak at the blond caged between your thighs, face contorted in pleasure as he eats you out. Deep moans reverberate from somewhere within his chest, rising though his throat and passing straight into your pussy.

Your thighs pull in tighter around his head as his tongue finds your clit, pressing small, tight circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. The muscles in your lower stomach and leg begin to twitch as he stimulates the little swollen bud, pushing against it in was that your fingers could never achieve. Even with such little stimulation your back was already beginning to arch, legs bending to pull him in closer against you.

“Fuck, Kenny…” You mumble, feeling a hand trace gentle yet calming circles on your outer thigh. They kept you in the moment, seeming to stop you from floating off and pulling you back into his mattress.

“You taste so good.” You barely hear him as he mumbles his words against your cunt. His voice carried something so loving that you couldn’t help but let out a gentle sigh, pulling at his soft locks slightly.

Your ankles cross as he pushes his mouth harder against you, tongue moving to run through your folds and press against your clit in a repetitive motion. It was driving you mad, the perfect feeling.

Slowly, the hand that had been practically massaging your thigh came to trace the underneath of it, never breaking contact with your skin as It moved. You felt it travel further, eventually moving to your inner thigh before gently tracing your entrance.

One of Kenny’s finger dipped into your cunt, only slipping in up to the second knuckle before pulling out again. You could feel your pussy fluttering as he did it again, sliding in a little further this time. He kept doing it, pulling his finger out and gently sliding it back in, until he reached the base of this finger – then he stopped being so careful. His finger began to pump into you a bit faster, curling up against your soft walls. You were already squirming, but it only gets worse as Kenny continues swirling his tongue over your sensitive clit.

His moaning only serves to drive you further towards the edge, making your face scrunch up in pleasure as his face begins to move, encouraging you to grind your hips against his face. And you did. He begins to moan more, and you half expect him to grab your hip and pull you in closer, only to feel him shift below you and hear him start to whimper.

The pleasure was only building up in your body, dripping and pooling into a white-hot puddle in your belly. Back arching and other hand digging into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer against you. His tongue felt like it was working magic with every flicker, searing pleasure shooting though your body.

Your climax edged ever closer, only pushed by the fact that you could feel Kenny’s arm moving. Everything about the moment felt perfect.

Finally, the rope snapped and you were sent tumbling over the edge, thighs tensing and hands tugging at his hair. You became deaf to your own moans, his name tumbling form your lips as he guided you through your orgasm.

You felt like you were floating as you finally began to come down from your high. Kenny’s head was still pressed neatly between your legs, blond locks now messy and covering his eyes. However, he didn’t move, slit gently lapping at your now encroaching overstimulated pussy. His hand working faster to finish himself as he kept his focus on you.

Whimpers began to fill your throat and mouth, spilling into the air, accompanied by the wet sounds of your own pleasure and the quiet murmurs of his. His moaning got louder, lips finally separating from your hot core so his face could press into your thigh, gasping against your soft skin as he pushed himself further and further towards the edge.

“Fuck… (Y/n)...” he was speaking into your thigh as your hands still scratched lightly at his scalp, hips bucking up into his fist and panting. You could hear him reaching his own end, mumbling words bubbling up in what seemed like begging.

Kenny finally reached his end, body twitching and free hand gripping your thigh. He buried his face into your soft skin, nuzzling slightly as he rode through his high. His hand stopped, pulling away from himself and moving to rest on your thigh.

His face stayed there for a moment, regaining his breath recovering from the feeling. The warmth of his breathing puffing against your thighs was comforting and almost began to lull you into sleep. You could feel your mind slipping, drifting away as your eyes fought it stay open.

In your half-awake state, you could feel Kenny rise, pressing his palms against your thighs to help himself up. He gently rubbed his hands against the hot, soft skin in small, soothing motions.

Kenny leant down, pressing a kiss against your neck, holding himself chest to chest with you for a second. His voice was gentle as he mumbled something into your ear that you didn’t really pick up, both hands cupping your hips, thumbs massaging the skin.

A whine is pulled from your throat as his warmth is peeled away from your body. You reach up, eyes still closed, searching for the body that has already left. The faint noise of feet padding out of the door lets you know he’s leaving.

After a few minutes, you heard Kenny renter the room. His body once again moved to rest between your thighs. Shivers ran through your body when a warm washcloth pressed against your thighs, cleaning where his hands had pressed against you. You let out a light whimper as he pressed it against your core, gently cleaning you.

“Are you ok?” His voice was soft, causing you to crack your eyes open to look at his face. His soft blue eyes scanned your face, waiting for a reaction. You couldn’t summon much more than a small nod, feeling yourself melt into the mattress.

There was a small shuffle as hands slid under you, moving you until your body was laying properly on the bed. The mattress dipped as a warm body slipped in next to you. Kenny’s warmth was once again pressed against your bare skin, a hand sliding around your body until his hand was pressed into your back, keeping you pressed against him. You didn’t fight this, nuzzling into his warmth, your face pressing against his chest. The gentle hands of sleep finally took you, letting you fall into that floating feeling as you listened to Kenny breathe just above your head.

PlayFellowXXX Masterlist

Main masterlist

Wally darling

You’re mine. 🍑🍓 (Wally x Fem!Villain!Reader)

He's yours? [You're mine pt.2] 🌸🍓 (Wally x Fem!Villain!Reader)

I'll show you 🍑🌶️ (Wally Darling x Masc!Reader)

thinking about boyfriend! sanji who randomly gets horny from just looking at you half of the time. it would be small things that turn him on too.. like the way your shoulder look in your new tube top. or the way your ass looks when you bend over to grab a pan for him in the kitchen. or just seeing you apply lipgloss on your plump lips hes instantly thinking about how your clear glossed lips look around his cock. or how they part when he fucks you or eats you out 5 different times to hell. pulls you in the bathroom or into a abandoned space on the ship where no one will see you. he's automatically begging you to let him experience the heavenly feeling of eating your hot cunt or for you to even bless him with the pleasure of your pillowy lips even touching his tip. idk i just like sanji

thinking about nami fingering you. everyone on the ship has gone to their own respective areas and you and nami are finally alone. she has you seated on her lap with your legs spread open in a straight up ungodly position. her fingers plunged deep inside your dripping cunt hitting your sweet spot every time. her free arm is holding you by the waist, keeping your back pressed against her to keep you as still as she can while her thumb rubs your clit and it has you seeing stars. you can't help the combination of whines and moans that come out your mouth even though she's pleading with you to "be quiet baby.." and "you dont want anyone to hear us right?". and you try to be quiet but you can't hold in all your sobs of pleasure. The only time you quiet down is when she pulls her fingers out your pussy and down your throat making you suck on them. "thought I told you to be quiet, princess? guess ill shut you up myself."

Walker Scobell x Gn!Reader

[Headcanon]

———————————————————————

Sumary: Being best friend with Walker Scobell

Warning: N/A

A/N: I putted Gn!Reader for the fact that I didn’t bring up any pronouns, so, yeah

Face time at random times, like, really random times, for literally. No. Reason.

“Hi.”

“Hi?”

Silence

“You ok?”

Makes fart noise with mouth and hang up

“Dude, what?”

This boy is funny, he’s aways trying to make you laugh, even more when you’re sad

Playing Fortnite together, you don’t like it? He’ll force you anyway (in a friendly way)

You also being friend with his sister and when you go to his house sometimes she steals you from him

(He gets a little jealous)

“Can I have my friend back?”

“No, we’re gossiping about you.”

His parents love you

He taking 0.5 pics of you

“Whatcha doing?”

“Taking pictures, duh.”

If you are part of the PJO cast you guys going to pass the breaks together, talking about the scenes or just chilling

If you aren’t, he’s going to call you so you guys can talk, sometimes he’s so excited that he accidentally tells a spoiler

And if you never read one book of Percy Jackson this boy will go crazy, he’ll make you read all the books, he’ll probably tell spoilers of the book

He’s sweet boy, but sometimes is a little annoying