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That boy’s
dressed like a
school shooter ᡕᠵデᡁ᠊╾━
⤹ ୨୧ ‧₊ texts with your crush!
✚ synopsis: the unknown person who dms you turns out to be your crush? who just so happens to like you just as much. perhaps even more.
✚ cw: half-texts and half-writing, alot of cussing, gn reader, reader is dense and stupid
you bitches need to write more kevin khatchadourian ficssssss I already read all of them and I’m still hungryyy
hello, you.
cw: thighjob, blackmailing, threats of anal & vaginal sex, dub-con(ish)
Khatchadourian, A name you have grown familiar with. Vague sure, but known nonetheless. You hear it when the teacher takes attendance, always pronouncing it a syllable off, or having to hear Lenny say it in that drawn out way, like a dog yipping for its master. You keep to yourself, you’re not bold enough to approach Kevin. You find it easier to avoid him, to keep to yourself—though…you can’t help but wonder. Does he actually like hotdogs? Or is that dumbass shirt he wears just meant to be ironic? Is his actual best friend Lenny? Or is the fake laugh actually genuine? You feel silly about the crush, can it even be classified as a crush? More like a mere curiosity.
You look up from your notebook. Kevins shirt accentuates the thinness of his waist, you can tell he hasn’t been in for a haircut as dark locks sweep over his nape. You can picture yourself running your fingers through it, it’s an innocent thought, but it makes you feel like a creep nonetheless, fantasizing about your classmate like that…. It’s like he knows about you’re weird fascination. When you pass him in the hall he always tilts his head a little, looks at you with those dark eyes like he can see right through you. Gives you chills. You’re brought out of your thoughts when your teacher says your name, followed by Kevin, who glances at you over his shoulder. Partner projects…what a joke, Kevin looks unimpressed. After class you get a note shoved onto your desk, average scrawl on a uneven piece of notebook paper with his address and four pm underlined. Chivalry is so dead.
His mother is kind when she allows you in, her nervous demeanor does little to put you at ease. Kevin pops in, his mother gives you a tight lipped smile as he yanks you up the stairs, like a lamb to the slaughter. His room is clean, like sterile clean. Ironed sheets and not a speck of dust. “Nice room.” You murmur, glancing at the shut laptop on his desk, CD’s neatly stacked next to it, you’re almost wishing for porn, at least that’d be something normal about him. He scoffs, almost like a snort, like you’re beneath him for paying a simple compliment. “What?” You ask, blurting it out without thinking. You just want to know what his problem is. “Nice room? It’s not nice, god, are you ever not a little culture following idiot?” Kevin asks like he’s being genuine, and if he is being genuine, you’re unsure. “Can you just take the compliment?” Your voice feels dry, sticking up to him feels like the wrong choice, like going left when a big sign is pointing right. “Tch.” He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, rolling his eyes while you awkwardly fiddle with the strap of your bag.
“Let’s just get this over with…” You huff, a sudden backbone forming the longer you’re around him, this stupid skinny guy with high cheekbones is so not scary. You set your bag down, pulling your notebook out, as it slides out the coil wire snags his used water bottle out, distinguished by the k.k initialed with sharpie on top of the plastic cap. He snatches it off his floor before you can shove it back in your bag, so much for having a backbone. “I can explain!” You offer in a rushed breath, what else are you supposed to say in a time like this? You weren’t even gonna do anything perverted with it, swear, but Kevin looks intrigued. “Explain what? That you’re a dirty little kleptomaniac?” His accusation is heavy, especially over a stupid water bottle. “Im not a—
“Oh really? Cause I think some other stuff of mine had gone missing, toothbrush, socks, hairbrush too now that I think of it.” Kevin keeps the bottle, crinkling the plastic.
“I never took that stuff! You’re…you’re lying!” You’re panicked now, taking a step forward, but so does he, he’s more intimidating up close, with those low set brows and dark fringe. “Yeah? Well who’s everyone gonna believe, me? Or the freak stalker?” He hums, almost close enough that you can feel his warm breath on your mouth. You gape, trying to figure out what to say, what to do, this can’t be happening right now. “I won’t tell…if you do something for me.” Kevin sounds earnest, you peer at him sullenly, hoping he’ll just make you do all the project, which’ll be annoying, but way better then being ostracized.
This is way worse than being ostracized. Kevin lays out the groundwork, it all feels very dreamlike as he shoves you into his bed, it feels wrong creasing his blankets, you look up at the ceiling as he undoes your jeans, not bothering to fully yank them off, just pulling them till they’re around your knees. “Stop it with the kicked puppy look, you were asking for this, if you hadn’t been such a depraved girl, you wouldn’t be in this situation you know.” Kevin is firm with his tone as he shoves his jeans down, fisting his half hard cock through the slit of his boxers. You steal a look, its well proportioned to the rest of his body, seven inches if you had to guess, shaved, full set of balls and a tip with a rosy hue, not half bad. You cannot seriously be checking his cock out, asshole isn’t even fully hard. He leans over to the side, squirting some lotion into his palm, rubbing it into his hand, then onto the inside of your thighs, if you close your eyes you can pretend its some creepy massage. The pressure of his fingers feels good, massaging the your skin evenly, it’d almost be sweet if you didn’t know what was coming.
“Seriously, you should be thanking me, I could just shove my dick up your ass, that’d probably feel better, i’m barely even touching you, seriously, say thank you.” Kevin situates your thighs, shoving them up with your sneakers still on, the soles facing his ceiling. You watch as that rosy tip parts through your smushed thighs, feel his underwear against the back of your thighs as he ‘bottoms out’, his cock menacingly pointing directly at you like some deranged compass. “Thank you Kevin.” You croak, a drop if pre drips directly onto your shirt, gross. “Thank you for what?” He hums, already out of breath as he begins a steady pace of pulling and pushing his cock between the fatty space of your inner thigh. “Thanks for not sodomizing me!” Kevin pinches your thigh with his nail, dramatic is what you are.
“Sodomy? I should just take it back, do it anyways, fuck your cunt after.” Kevin grunts, like he’s not already fucking you, his bed frame creaks, and his thrusts jolt your body, worst of all, it’s making you wet. The dirty slick noise of his cock gliding in and out between your legs, the sight of it alone, how could you not picture his cock inside you. “No!” You whine like the thought isn’t crossing your mind, he clicks his tongue because he’s disappointed. “Hold ‘em.” Kevin demands, forcing you to grasp your thighs, make you put yourself on display for his own sick gratification. He pulls your panties to the side, which makes your whole body go hot, he’s looking with such determination, jerking himself off at the sight of your wet cunt. He makes a pained noise, like lowering himself to this human need isn’t a thing he does often, it can’t be. Spurts of nut shoot onto your squished folds, you feel it, the thickness and the heat. Kevin gives himself a languid tug, milking his sensitive cock to really glaze your cunt with the entirety of his orgasm. You gasp at the sight, this cannot be real, a shiver goes through your body, you’re ruined and you haven’t even been fucked. Kevin pinches the gusset of your panties, setting them back into place, his fingers light as a feather as he smooths it over your folds, feeling the throb of your neglected pussy under his fingers.
He turns his back to you, you quickly sit up, pulling your pants back up. You’re hair is flat and frizzy in the back, no doubt from getting jostled back and forth on his bed, your body hot. Your jeans sticking to your thighs from the lotion. Kevin’s cum smushed into your pussy when you sit up. When he turns around his cock is tucked back into his boxers, jeans back up around his waist. “I’ll finish the project, we’ll get an A-.” He murmurs almost reassuringly, you nod wordlessly, picking your bag up from off the door, he doesn’t even walk you out, you just walk past him. Despite the sudden animosity you’re oddly sure this won’t be the last you hear from him.
dividers by @cursed-carmine
I can see Kevin writing “love letters” that are paragraphs upon paragraphs of how he hates that you make him feel soft and weak, detailing how you’ve ruined him, constantly bothering with your neediness and clingyness, that it’d be better for him to break things off and watch you fall apart while he slides back into his status quo, totally in denial about the fact that he’d probably go crazy not having his favorite plaything to mess with every waking hour.
He’d also definitely crumble them up after writing, never letting you see how he feels about you. Probably burn them all too so nobody gets the chance to see that side of him. Maybe if you’re on your best behavior for long enough he’ll let you in for a bit as a reward.
An afternoon with Kevin!
Kevin is taking over my soul. Ash if you’re seeing this please don’t skin me 😓 also this is probably extremely ooc I tried tho okay
You sat on the edge of Kevin’s slightly stiff mattress, fingers fidgeting in your lap. He was at his desk, doing whatever on his laptop and practically ignoring you. You loved your boyfriend, of course, but he was definitely still… intense, to put it lightly. Not only did he get annoyed easily, but he was mean about it, too. But you didn’t mind much, you loved him the way he was.
“Quit your fucking around with your hands.”
You blinked before realizing what he meant, stopping immediately.
“Right. Sorry.”
He rolled his eyes and went back to what he was doing. He could sense the way you were bored with doing nothing but watching him. He couldn’t blame you, though; he was doing nothing anyway. He sighed and leaned back in his seat, stretching his arms above his head. He looked at you, then he reached out and gestured for you to come to him.
“Huh?”
“You’re bored. Come here.”
You nodded and did as he said. His arm wrapped around your waist, a stiff and firm hold. He knew you were surprised; he was never this soft. It’s not like he was getting all cuddly, though, absolutely not. He was just trying to get you to stop moving around.
You were looking down at him, eyes widened as he had already gone back to his laptop. You don’t know where to set your hands, you didn’t know where to look, and you certainly didn’t know what to think. So, you let your hands fall to your sides, your eyes rest on his face, and tried to not be so surprised. To do so, you let your eyes trace his features. His eyes, nose, jawline, cheekbones — all of it.
He tilted his head and glanced up at you for a split second, then he looked back at his laptop. He knew you were staring at him, but he wasn’t as bothered by it as he would be if it were anyone else. His hand didn’t do any of those sappy things you see in romance movies like his thumb stroking your waist, or his grip on you tightening. Of course not. His arm just rested there stiffly, keeping you close.
You were brought out of your trance of looking at his face when his laptop shut. He stood but he didn’t stretch, and his arm slipped from around your waist. You watched as he laid on his bed before you went to join him. You sat down and hesitated on whether or not you should lay down too before the decision was made for you, and you were pulled into his chest. It wasn’t an act of warmth, but rather one of impatience.
“You think too much.”
His voice was dry and slightly annoyed, even as he draped an arm over your back. He was still stiff; would it kill him to loosen up? He didn’t say anything further, but he kept you still. He didn’t bothering asking if you were comfortable, he’d assumed you’d done it yourself. Eventually he got bored enough to mess with the ends of your hair.
For someone who didn’t like physical touch, he sure seemed to like keeping you close.
A/N: I really really don’t like this and this is rushed and kinda embarrassing to post but wtv
© strxwberrycreampuff 6/16/2026 do not steal, copy, or feed to ai
cutie cuties
I’m afraid of social media, but I want to share my fan art
