they remind me od the word redamancy: the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full. jared waiting for stephon to be comfortable w loving him openly and everyone is saying: “nah! you deserve better” or “it’s futile” (jdub gets it bt he also wnats better for jared). one day stephon had an eureka moment and does confess!
gavries headcannons because they mean so much to me (based on the aus where ray gets saved)
• pete is obsessed with the way ray smells, ray thinks it’s weird but eventually gets used to getting sniffed
• they still wear their tags to remind themselves of how they met and how their love was tested
• ray has horrible nightmares, especially ones much closer to the cannon movie ending
• pete always makes sure to comfort ray through them, occasionally singing and humming ray to sleep the way his mother did
• they both have permanent scars and aches from the long walk, pete often gives ray massages and kisses his scar from the bullet wound
• pete loves listening to ray rant about his fathers teachings and philosophies, ray feels even closer to his father now experiencing the same fate as him (even if temporarily)
• ray makes sure pete keeps all of his songwriting notebooks, occasionally reading them before they go to bed
• they get a puppy and name it after art, they also buy it a little rocket ship/ space themed collar in his honor
• ray’s mother is absolutely in love with pete, they go see her often and bake with her
at your first party in university, evan shows his infatuation in an extremely inappropriate way, but maybe you’re into that
> serial killer!evan x fem!survivor
> genre: horror, thriller, smut
> au: university, stalker, serial killer
> tw: blood, cursing, crying, smut, mentions of murder, screaming, and fighting
> sw: rough, unprotected, oral, sloppy, overstim
> wc: 1.8k
ps, this is the first time im posting a fic on tumblr. there might be typos
The screams had finally ended. I’ve been hiding for what feels like forever. I don’t know how nor why this started, but hopefully it’s ended. There’s music playing through the speakers downstairs.
I still make sure to hold my breath regardless.
I just started college. I haven’t even been on campus a week. All I wanted to do was enjoy myself and look where it got me. First party in university, and possibly my last. My phone’s completely dead and from what I understand, there’s no-one left. Now I’m left here shaking beneath a desk and praying that I get rescued before it’s too late.
As I hold back tears whilst my body trembles, I can hear someone getting closer. I have no idea what happened outside this door and I don’t want to know. I suck up every piece of air I have left and I can hear the suspect at the door.
God, how did I get here? How did I get in this situation? I agreed to go to a party with my roommate and now I’m stuck in someone’s bedroom as I listen to people scream for their lives just feet away.
*knock, knock*
I feel my heart pumping through my chest. My lungs swell around my ribcage. How could someone do this? Why would someone do this? Is this real? Am I awake?
Then, as I finally have to take a breath, I hear my name being called from outside the door.
“Pretty… I know it’s you.”
I vaguely know the voice. It’s weak, almost remorseful, yet I can hear him smirking through his teeth. There he goes, whispering my name again as if there’s anyone out there listening.
“I’m not gonna lay a finger on you,” he says as I hear something fall to the ground, his tone sounding as if he could laugh or sob at any second. “Look,”
He kicks a knife underneath the door. It slides across the hardwood right in front of me. It’s been so overused the blade is practically bent and the wooden handle is soaked and crimson. I pick up the trashcan from beside me and cover it just in case he breaks through.
A silence lingers until I hear his knees thud to the floor.
“Please let me see you.”
I can put my finger on it now. I know why he knows me. I’m tutoring him. The more he begs the more the details of his appearance come back to me. His messy hair, his dark eyes, the bruises on his lips from constantly biting them and his slightly muscular stature. I can even hear his slight stutter slip through as he rambles on. I hate how much attention I paid to him in these few days. That’s why I’m here now. Was I flirting with him? Did I lead him on? Did I lead him to do this?
No, there’s no justifiable reason to have committed something so disgusting. Yet there’s something wrong with me too, cause I’m still listening to him beg for me through the door. I want to hear what he has to say. I feel less fear than what’s responsible. I almost feel oddly comfortable.
Even though it’s definitely not smart, I can’t think of what else to do. I finally spoke back.
“What do you want from me?”
He stops. It’s a long pause.
“T-to see you.”
“Why would you do this?”
He pauses again. I hear him lay his wet hands on the door.
“Let me explain it to you.”
My stomach turns. My stomach turns in a way I can’t explain. I feel just as disgusting as he is. I hate how I feel right now. I kneel with my hands in front of me as the feeling lingers. I can only think one thing
‘Let him in. Let him in. Let him in.’
He has to feel me thinking about him, he’s not talking for once. What’s wrong with me? I stand, there’s barely any strength in my legs. I take off my heels so he can’t hear them and step towards the door as quietly as possible. I want to see him. His voice is warping my thoughts. As I wrap my palm around the door knob, I know all of my reasoning is out the door.
His eyes. Right above his swollen eye bags, there’s still a light in them. His sullen, dark eyes.
He looks up to me as if I was a marble statue, rubbing his blooded hands off onto his oversized jeans. As he stands up slowly to peer over me slightly I accept my face.
…
“You’re so beautiful.”
…
I’m alive. Why am I alive?
He took my hands into his as he backed me into the bedroom.
“You’re so, so beautiful.”
I hurriedly unclasped from him and scurried to pick up the knife.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I don’t wanna hurt you.”
He’s far too calm
“What the hell do you want from me!? Answer me!”
“I did all of this for you.”
“I barely even know you!”
“Put the knife down.”
I hold the knife for dear life. He grasps my shoulders. His hands are stained. His face is bloodied. His nose looks crooked and cracked. They fought back. I should be fighting back. I should kill him.
Instead I kissed him.
The taste of blood creeps into my mouth as I grip his hair, knife still in my hand. His tongue is warm. His teeth are sharp. This is the perfect time to slit his throat. Or I could run, but he would definitely catch me. He pulls back and holds my waist. His voice is low.
“You’re just like me.”
My breath hitches.
“You’re filthy.”
A grin spreads across his lips..
“And you like that. I knew it when I first saw you. Your act doesn’t work on me,”
I clench my teeth.
“You’re repulsive. Just. Like. Me.”
I wish he was lying. He slowly pries the worn down knife out of my hand. Pinning me to the wall by wrists, he looks down and asks me,
“Do you want this? I won’t touch you if you don’t. I’ll let you stab me, you can call the police off of my phone. We can clear this all up. But first, do you want me to touch you?”
I close my eyes. I can feel his manhood pressing on my thighs. His warm breath brushes my lips and I can hear his heart, just as loud as mine, beating through his chest like the bass in the expensive speakers downstairs. I’ve already accepted that no one is coming for me. The music was louder than the screams within this frat house. Secluded and left alone to my devices, I give into him.
“Put the knife outside.”
Immediately he throws it out the door with one hand. He grins even wider than before, the blood from his face leaking down onto his teeth. He’s so sick. This is probably the worst decision I’m gonna make in my life. But I can feel how big he is through his pants and this might be the last sex my life.
I kneel and start to unbutton his pants. I can feel the heat burning off his body at my touch. He needs to feel me as badly as I need to hear him wail and cry out. Just opening my mouth makes him twitch and buck desperately. He fidgets his hands and bites his lips as I unveil him. He’s so cute. It's nauseating. But I need it.
“Tell me how badly you want me.” I say as I massage him.
He’s a stuttering mess, hot faced and barely able to speak. Whatever fear I felt from him went away as soon as I got on my knees. He goes on and on about how much he needs me. How he’s obsessed with me from my lashes to my heels. How he fantasizes about my scent and my skin and my tone of voice. I lap at his rod which immediately shuts him up. As I slowly fondle and suck he whimpers and rests his hands on my head. The more I savor him, the more he progressively starts to push himself in and out of my mouth. Once he starts to go faster and faster, I pull back and watch the precum leak out his spilling tip. I can see the bit of embarrassment across his face as he stares at me starry eyed.
“Finish yourself off.” I chuckle before opening my mouth and lying myself back onto him. He starts slowly, sliding on and off of my tongue with his fingers gently in my hair. Progressively it gets sloppier and quicker until I’m gagging and he thrashes forcefully and fast. Before he finishes he leaves my lips and huffs harshly.
Before I can even really wipe my eyes during his break I’m suddenly lifted up.
He flips me around and my back cracks with how rough he presses me into the desk. He pulls down my shorts quickly and rubs against my ass like he’s never felt a woman before. He whines and he pulls out his manhood and rubs against my clothed cunt. His grip on my wrist lets me know that he could break me at any moment, but the way he’s wincing tells me he wouldn’t dare. He might be stronger, but I have some sort of power over him. I think I like the feeling of it.
He pushes everything atop of the desk off and rips off my underwear.
“You want me to fuck you?”
“Mhm,” I reply as I look back at him.
He enters me so roughly I immediately groan out, which makes him giggle. The desk shifts aggressively as he pounds into me. I cry out and clench around him while he digs his fingers into my pelvis. He thrusts into me like his life depends on it. All I can do is hum and moan as he manhandles me. He pulls out to flip me once again, this time handling my throbbing clit as he touches my guts. Toes clinched and being broken into, I let him use me as his plaything. My wrists are slowly turning purple and my tears stain the desk. It thudding into the wall penetrates a hole and I lean my head back and climax. My legs tremor as I heave and gasp for air. I’m easily overstimulated, he’s not done with me. He likes the way I’m screaming. I open my watery eyes to see him licking the blood off his mouth. How could someone so empty be so passionate? I need him more than air.
It feels like we’re closer to becoming one every time he pushes himself further into me.
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