#creeps x reader

[st4rzzl0verr]

making out w/ the creeps hcs

Masky

- rough

- usually always leads to more

- reaches up to caress your chin and jawline

- expect lots of hickies high up on your neck

- it's obvious he needs your attention, it calms his… nerves

Hoodie

- less rough than tim

- more casual and then sensual with it

- hickies all over your collar bone

- you’ll have to keep his hands from wandering too far

- let's out a little snicker against your lips if you lean into him

Jeff

- lots of tongue (too much)

- kinda doesn't know what he's doing but… just let him learn

- loves when you break away and kiss over his scars

- likes to kiss your jawline

- normally pins you down because he thinks that's like hot or something (and he would be absolutely gagged if you tried to take charge)

- bites

Toby

- he probably won't be able to control himself too well

- it gets sloppy fast

- total mess by the end of it

- he honestly is still in awe at the fact that you want to kiss or touch him at all most of the time

- but he absolutely adores you

EJ

- cups your face with his hands

- loves biting you so much

- genuinely won't let you get away as soon as you suggest such a thing

- just likes the sensation of your flesh between his teeth

Liu

- super sweet and sensual

- literally just wants to show you how much he loves you with every little thing he does

- loves neck kisses

- starts saying ‘fuck’ in between kisses when it starts getting more heated

- leaves you a couple of hickies

Sully

- a lot rougher than Liu

- hell of a lot handsier too like he is all up ons

- sometimes fronts when you and Liu are making out just cause he wants attention too

- so many marks (Liu probably apologizes for this behavior later on as well)

[deathofacupid]

creep!nerd!jo, but he's not all sweet and innocent. actually, he's far from it. creep!nerd!jo who's a creep.

admiration, bordering on downright obsession. except, it's not bordering, it is.

creep!nerd!jo, who's your best friend. he doesn't want to see you hurt, never. so, think of it like he's protecting you — especially when he's playing dumb, consoling you when your shitty date from last night, he suddenly went missing.

god, you were so freaked out. in fact, you still had the ticket stub from yesterday. he takes it from you. for safe-keeping. out of sight, out of mind, creep!nerd!jo tells you.

oh, speaking of, the plastic coffee cup — the one you threw out, after finishing — he has it, too. silly, you! you didn't recycle it. he has it in the back of his closet, in a little shoebox with your ticket stub. creep!nerd!jo just hasn't had time to dispose of it properly.

you think creep!nerd!jo's so sweet. he offered to do your dirty laundry the other day. actually, he found a pair of panties with a hole in them. he felt bad, so he put it in the shoebox, until he can replace it. think of it as a surprise gift!

you left a hair tie at creep!nerd!jo's once. he wears it on his wrist all the time, hidden under his long-sleeved sweater vests, just in case you ever need it. of course, you don't know he has it. he's sure you'll be more amazed when it comes out of the blue.

creep!nerd!jo's got a habit of moving where you put your things. whenever you go back to find them, you always look so confused. he can't help it! it's cute. besides, he loves the extra interaction he gets when you ask him if he's seen it, to which he let you know. and, every time, you smile, "what would i do without you?" he doesn't even want to think about that; good thing he's here to protect you.

everything creep!nerd!jo does is smart, it's in his nature. it's not your fault your brain doesn't work at the same pace as his. but, it's okay! that's what he's here for, right? somebody has to be the intelligent one in this relationship.

and, aw, would you look at that? creep!nerd!jo's collection is growing.

tagging my sweet @jeonwiixard! also, let me know if you want to be added to a permanent taglist!

[millyondollarbaby]

Loser Stalker Yandere

(He’s a fucking loser but he’s hot and down bad. And a total virgin.)

You didn’t expect to fuck him.

He’s a little too quiet. A little too intense. The guy who watches you like you invented the color red. Always hovering at the edges of rooms, starving. Your voice makes him flinch. Your body makes him twitch.

You noticed it—how he always seemed to know your schedule before you did. How he’d bump into you too often.

You weren’t supposed to say yes.

But tonight? You were bored.

Curious. Cruel.

You whispered: “Fine. Let’s see if you’re as desperate as you look.”

And now?

You’re between his legs. Back against his chest. Your thighs spread. His hands all over you. His breath is already ragged. You haven’t even touched him.

He’s got one hand sliding between your thighs, the other palming your breast like he doesn’t know whether to squeeze or sob. You feel the tremble in his fingers—the awe, the disbelief.

His thumb finds your clit and he gasps. You’re soaked. For him.

“Oh my god,” he whispers into your neck. “You’re really letting me—fuck—you’re actually—” He cuts off with a choked moan, his lips dragging over your skin, his teeth scraping your shoulder like he wants to bite, but doesn’t dare.

He rubs you with shaky, frantic circles. Clumsy, but desperate. Desperate to please you. To make you cum. To make it count.

“You’re so soft—so warm—so wet, holy fuck-I’ve thought about this every night since I first saw you. I know your scent. I fucking know the way your heels sound in the hallway—”

You arch your back, lips parting. He moans—like you’re hurting him just by existing.

“You let me touch you… You don’t know what that does to me, Bunny. I’d kill someone if they even looked at this pussy now. You understand that?”

He’s rubbing harder now, his breath catching every time your hips twitch. His other hand slides down to your stomach, pressing you back into his lap so you feel how hard he is.

“You can’t leave after this. I’ll lose my fucking mind.”

You cum hard.

Harder than you meant to. Harder than you should, considering the freak behind you.

Your head falls back on his shoulder.

Your whole body tenses—legs shaking, clit throbbing against his fingers as you grind against his palm. You cry out. And he moans with you. Louder. Needier. Like your orgasm is his.

“Yes. Yes—fuck—thank you. Thank you for letting me. Thank you—thank you—thank you—*”

He’s crying. Literally. Holding you like you’re a fever dream and the second he lets go, you’ll disappear.

“I can die now,” he whispers.

“Or I can kill for you. Just say the word.”

[running-with-kn1ves]

Fitness Trainer

A/N: I blended some french terms of endearment with English don't come for me. But is Antoine really French, or is he feigning this way to get closer to you? (Had a fem idea for this too)

Synopsis: Another day at the gym, your personalized trainer is helping you out a lot more intimately than he would with most clients.

TW: Creep gym trainer, yandere themes, mentions of future stalking/imagined groping, sensual content

And up... and down, just like that."

The squeeze on your hips kept you stable, even with your fingers shaking, mouth agape as hot breath was sucked in, and out. 

"One more, you can do one more for me."

"I can't..." you huffed, thighs quaking as the barbell on your shoulders made you ache. 

"Yes you can. C'mon sweetheart, we'll do it together."

He gripped the barbell beside where your sweating hands were, chest flush against your back as his feet entrapped the outside of your own. 

“Do it with me now,” He pulled the weight lower, forcing you to squat despite the agony in your ankles and tailbone. “Push through it, baby.”

The sweet name just slipped out, breathy against your ear as his hot exhales slowed compared to your huffs. It almost made you slip.

You could feel the muscles in your wrists shaking, vision going blurry as sweat drips into your eyes. One of his hands leaves the barbell to grip your hip, forcing you back into a standing position as your knees nearly give out. 

You rise slowly back up with the barbell in your hands, nearly groaning in pain at the strain. You finally lift your arms to your chest, finishing the rep with a strained frown as your personal trainer forces the weight off of your arms. His taller stature makes it easy to put the barbell back on the rack in front of you. 

You feel as if you could collapse, an hour and a half of intense training brought upon by your own determination leaving you exhausted and a little discouraged. You thought you could do more, push yourself harder-- but at the end of the day, the amount of reps your body would let you do, was it. You’d crack if you tried to go even further, end up tearing something or worse. 

Your trainer could tell; the way you sweat, your eyebrows furrowed as you kept that hard, strained look with each motion he made you do. 

“I hate to say it, but you’re done for today.” 

You look up at him from your place on the ground, water bottle hanging from your grip as you try to catch your breath. 

Antoine had only worked with you for a couple weeks now, what started as once a week now thrice, if you had the time after work of course. But somehow, he always enticed you to come back. 

His body, which should’ve been motivation, was more or less disheartening-- rippling muscles and bulging quads peeking beneath his tight ‘TRAINER’ black tee and athletic shorts as the perfect ensemble. 

He was so sweet, so encouraging and upsettingly positive. Always filling up your water bottle, saying how he’s always admiring the growth of muscle definition in your back, giving you light touches to show which area of your body that a machine might work out. He even offered post-exercise massages to make sure you didn’t get sore after each session, free of cost as a perk of joining the gym’s ‘premium membership’, an idea he sold you on. That, along with the complementary protein shakes made that were hi “specialty.”

You knew it was his job to hook you in, but who could say no to that sweet meathead’s face? Which is why you were here, on a late saturday afternoon, in this nearly empty gym with him that he convinced you to love. 

You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, even if he was the one persuading you, offering to use his time off to come in and help train you.

“Feelin’ sore?” Antoine bends down next to you, offering a small towel from his pocket. The twinge of accent in his speech makes him sound funny, dry lips parted as he looks you over. “You went harder than usual today.” 

“Yeah,” You let out after a gulp of water. “Definitely gonna feel this later tonight; ha, maybe I’ll actually take you up on one of those massages.” 

You point with your water bottle, grinning tiredly as Antoine’s eyes seem to shine. He licks his lips to hide a giddy grin. 

“Of course-- definitely, I’d be more than happy to. These hands can work magic you wouldn’t believe.”

Antoine shuffles behind you, pulling at your shoulders to make you sit up straight. 

“Wha- you mean right now? I’m all, sticky.” 

“Now’s the best time, your muscles are just coming down from the effort they’ve exerted. Best to prevent any aches and pains as soon as possible rather than waiting.” 

He begins gentle rubs against the base of your neck; vast, warm fingers grace your collar with a softness you hadn’t expected. Usually when people try to massage your shoulders they’re too harsh, too grippy; but Antoine was rhythmic, pushing into your back with his palms as he made his way down to your shoulder blades. 

“But considering you’ve pushed so hard, I don’t want to see you back here for a couple of days.” Antoine insisted.

“Awe, you want me outa here that badly?” You joked, laying your head forward as Antoine’s fingers made their way to the back of your neck, running pressed thumbs down from your hairline. “I see how it is, prefer your other clients over me.” 

It felt sort of weird, having him massage you so deeply on the gym floor out in the open. But the only person here in the middle of the afternoon was an older woman, paying more attention to her cellphone on the treadmill than anything you two were doing. 

Antoine shook your shoulders. 

“Don’t say that, now!” He leaned his head over next to yours from behind, getting so close your nose almost brushed against his cheek. “It’s not funny; I hope you don’t see me that way.”

“It’s just a joke,” You titter, running your handtowel down the front of your shirt.

“I never understand your jokes.” He sighs, hands moving down to your tailbone. He lifts the bottom of your shirt sticking to your skin, digging his hands against the soft flesh. 

“Woah, hey,” You turn to look at him, but his head is down, looking at his fingers. 

“I have to get to your hips, you can’t do so many squats without release. And at the rate you were going to day… well, you see what I mean.”

The bottom of your tanktop covers his knuckles as he pulls and kneads the skin of your lower back. 

“O-okay.. I guess..” 

He’s not usually so insistent, but he seems so genuine about it-- and, he’s the trainer, shouldn’t they know best? 

He begins with little strokes to your skin, almost caressing. You grow anxious until his thumbs push deep lines into your flesh. 

“Does that feel a little better, Mon cœur? Less pain?” He asks up close, staring at your heated and perspiring cheeks. 

You’re awed by how good it actually feels, the tension melting away with each push of his knuckles into your skin, and grip of his hands around your waist as each of his thumbs digs into your sides. 

“Yeah… feels a lot better..” 

“You can rest your head on my shoulder, don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart.”

You do as he says, arching your back with your head against his shoulder. He had easier access into your back, working his hands up beneath your shirt to reach your mid abdomen.

The deeper Antoine kneaded, the farther he grew up your back, the more… audible, his groans became. Each dip was another breathy moan into your ear. It was fine at first, just the sounds of his work; and then, it became almost, uncomfortably sensual. 

“Just like that...” He mumbled, giving a deep hum.

With your neck so close, his nose dips against your jaw to sneak a sharp inhale of your scent. It was heightened from your hour of strenuous work, a smell he couldn’t get enough of. 

But you jumped forward before he could nuzzle as deep against you as he wished. 

“Uh! Thanks, I feel a lot better now. Really… got all the kinks out.” 

You clutch your towel, facing your trainer to prevent him from working his “magic fingers” again. 

“Of course. And that’s just a taste, a fully body massage would leave the workout you just completed to drain away, as if it was just a dream.” He wiggles his hands with a sheepish grin, one so simple and sincere your guard fell again.

Sure, guys at the gym could be creeps, but he was your trainer, eyes kind and a little foreignly clueless, who only wanted to see you thrive; he’d never try something with you, his client. 

“Yeah, maybe next time. But now, I need to shower and get this stink off of me.” You bring yourself to your feet, all wobbly and achy-galore. Even with Antoine’s work on your shoulders, you can feel your back beginning to seize up. It’s gonna be hard to bend down for a while. 

Offering a hand to Antoine still on the rubbery gym floor, he takes it with a slight ease. He doesn’t use the weight in his hand to get up, knowing he’d just drag you back down to the floor if he did. 

“Thanks again-- I mean, I know it’s your job but--” 

“Don’t thank me; it’s always a treat to have you here, my cherie. I’d train you for free, you know!” 

You laugh, flattered at the idea. If you were a bit more forward, you’d ask him for that little perk. Hey, paying for his service certainly wasn’t cheap!

Making your way to the bathroom, you thank your lucky stars the hard part’s over. Too bad you can’t look at Antoine’s pretty face anymore, though. 

Antoine on the other hand, follows your stumbling body with his eyes, watching as you disappear behind the water fountain and bathroom door. 

His eyes jut back and forth between the machines and front door for witnesses, seeing none before snatching up your forgotten towel. How’d you never notice they didn’t just give these things out? 

He’d brought the cute handkerchief from home, wanting to appear the most of a gentleman. And, in the hopes that you’d use it every and anywhere. 

Oh, he thrived off that scent, pushing the white damp cloth heavy against his nose. It smelled even more potent of you, moreso than the few inches away of sniffs he usually got. 

His tongue just barely brushed against it, writhing in ecstasy from how it still held the stickiness of your sweat. You didn’t know how intoxicating it was to him, watching each bead of sweat leave your neck, the dip of your back when he got the chance to help hold that barbell with you… it was almost maddening, how strictly he had to restrain himself from lapping at your hot skin and running his hands beneath your gymwear. 

 No, he had to save this for later. What would his manager think if he saw him acting so ferally? 

Besides, there were more important matters to attend to. Such as, taking out the bathroom trash, a simple excuse to slide his manager for the opportunity to watch you shower. 

Who knew working here would have such great advantages in getting close to you. 

[motomamita]

creep!könig × camgirl!reader

warnings: +18, smut, könig being a creep, dick flashing!

könig spent the entire night switching from camera to camera, looking for a girl who would catch his attention or get his cock hard. he searched and searched until you appeared.

your angelic face and your incredible body captivated him. you were wearing a loose top, no bra, and just a pink thong underneath. you laughed sweetly at the off-color comments that strangers left you along with donations of money.

you didn't have many people watching you, könig was glad because it would be easier to get your attention. had idiots lost their good taste? you were the most beautiful and valuable on that page for old perverts.

"i just fell in love. marry me."

he wrote along with a big donation of money. your eyes shine when you heard the sound of the notification and you laughed sincerely when you read the message.

"aww, kingkönig89, how sweet you are! thanks for the donation, and maybe one day we'll get married."

you joked and blew a kiss to the camera, making sure your breasts were pushed together and looked good. könig's heart raced and he soon noticed how his fat cock was throbbing against his naked abdomen.

that night he masturbated until he passed out, and without another penny in his bank account.

for the next few months, könig made sure to be on each of your streams, commenting sweet things on you and making sure he was the one who donated the most money. könig became someone known to you, being the first to enter and the last to leave.

you soon began to grow on the platform, gaining many more followers and attention. it was then that you asked könig, your biggest follower, to help you moderate your broadcasts in exchange for private video calls with you. obviously he aceppted

however, könig took advantage of this opportunity to drive away all those damn perverts who were trying to gain your affection and attention. he banned all users who donated more money than him, or anyone who managed to make you smile. he should be the only cause of your happiness.

when you noticed something was wrong, you decided to confront him.

"please, i'm just doing the right thing. understand me, ours is special."

könig begged looking at you through his screen, you couldn't see him because he refused to show his face except for his muscular chest.

"i'm going to have to find another moderator, könig. i'm sorry if you misinterpreted my actions, i... i don't know you, i don't know what you mean about ours being special."

you were heartbroken, you never thought that könig would have gone so far as to privately complain to you every time you greeted other users, blew them kisses or even gave them a good shot of your ass.

"my love, you promised me you would marry me! you can't do this to me!"

könig lowered his camera to his crotch where his swollen and wet cock was, which was throbbing insistently.

"look how you have me, you can't get me away from you. now, show your pair of tits on camera for me, please, baby."

[sleep-0-deprived]

Yandere roommate, Bottom head cannons ~

Yandere roommate who’s been stalking you for months waiting to pounce at the opportunity to get close to you, your old roommate sadly “moving away” randomly leaving you in a crunch to find a new one! You weren’t picky you were desperate and he was available and willing to pay over half the rent and expenses, a deal a young man such as yourself couldn’t deny.

Yandere roommate who places cameras in your shower right behind your shower head giving perfect view of your body as your hand glides over your pecs making your Yandere roommates mouth water watching you all flustered in his room with his laptop open, the sight of your muscular arms flexing and bulging as you wash your hair making the Yandere squirm around his stomach twitching and itching desperate to get you inside him.

Yandere roommate who always cleans up around the apartment making sure the dishes are done and the meals are made, even going as far as to make you lunches as he feeds the fantasy of being your “boyfriend” his head spinning being so close to you breathing in your scent having him dizzy and red in the face with him being completely delusional.

Yandere roommate who gets all pissed and psychotic when he sees you around any girls, he’s completely ballistic and the next day they are always found in a gruesome state since he wants to ensure “he’s the only one you have~”. The Yandere will always be so sweet and act so sympathetic to you over the women’s deaths but secretly thrilled you’re coming to him for comfort! Having you holding onto him all frustrated and upset makes him nearly pass out in glee.

Yandere roommate who steals a few of your things, stealing your hoodie or even your boxers. He keeps a box hidden away with all the things he’s stolen from you inside his closet obsessed with your scent the feeling of his delusional brain becoming so corrupted and twisted he imagines your things as “gifts~” to him making him fall more manic over the delusion of him being your boyfriend.

Yandere roommate who gets all pent up, when you’re at work or at your university he can’t help himself but to go to your room since it “smells” like you. His face buried in your pillows groaning and whining out as he stuffs two fingers into his loosened hole, pushing past his bud as he breaths in your scent doing his best to imagine your fingers reaching the best of depths inside him wanting you to the point his eyes well up with tears of desperation.

Yandere roommate who starts leaving himself in more skimpy clothing, you say his jeans look nice and those are suddenly his favorite jeans, wearing purposefully tight things that show every hip dip and thigh gap this man had. He makes sure to rub his ass right against your groin when squeezing past you making you let out a few labored grunts hiding your arousal while he murmur an innocent “I’m sorry!~” towards you

Yandere roommate who slowly gets you to fall for him. Getting you so pent up and horny for him that you can’t help yourself but to fuck him silly, his face shoved into the couch pillows with his back arched ass in the air as you grip his love handles for dear life like a pent up animal in rut as you heave on top of him holding him close all pinned down into the couch as the squelching sound of your cock stretching his slick rim open fills the apartment.

Yandere roommate who turns it into a habit doing his best to get you to fuck him anywhere everywhere to the point he can only drool getting fucked on your cock with his plush lips all agape his eyes widened and glossed over with lust as he barely musters out “Mhh fuck!, o-oh~ right there~~” as your cock head ravages and assaults his prostate making his puffy rim try to wink around you and greedily swallow more.

Yandere roommate who’s bent over the counter his boxers around his ankle as your hands grope the globes of his cheeks pressing your tongue against his rim watching hazily as it twitches only serving as fuel for you to delve past his bud with your tongue massaging his inner walls flicking against his bundle of nerves so much his cock just twitches all leaky pressed between the counter and his stomach while you drool sloppily down your own chin while eating his ass out.

[heartfullofleeches]

Creep Reader: Do you want to meet my dog?

Tsundere Yan: I...I guess?

[Creep Reader leaves the room - returning with Simp Yan trailing behind them on a leash wearing dog ears and paws]

Creep Reader: Speak.

Simp Yan: hiiii :D

Tsundere Yan: What. What the fuck?

Creep Reader, petting Simp Yan's ears: Found them wandering outside my house the other night. They're very well behaved - though they do tend to bite strangers.

Tsundere Yan: God - you're both freaks-

Simp Yan: Awwe somebody's jealous :p

Tsundere Yan: I am not!

Simp Yan, hidding behind Creep: Eek! Master, they yelled at me!

Creep Reader: It's fine. They'll be leaving soon. Kneel.

[Simp Yan kneels - beaming from ear to ear as Reader combs their fingers through their hair. Disgusted, Tsundere Yan storms out of Reader's house]

-

"Will that be all for you?"

Tsundere Yan, snatching the cat ears from the cashier: Shut up.

[konigsblog]

Riding Perv!König... (🌽 link)

“Holy fuck, Mauschen–... Don’t stop, please—” König manages to choke out through guttural and pained growls, his eyes widening with shock while his dick hardens and twitches inside of your wet heat.

You were aware of your best friend's perverted tendencies, the way he admired you from afar and eyed you down like some feast, his eyes glued to your figure and your soft curves. It wouldn't surprise you if he got off to the photos you took me together, where you were kissing his cheek friendly and holding him tightly. The slightest touch can be turned sexual with König, no matter how innocent it actually was.

And now, here you were, your soft and warm walls tightening around his cock after catching him with a pair of your underwear wrapped around his stiff cock, flicking through the pictures on his computer and moaning your name breathlessly. He couldn't control himself, Liebling. You're a dangerously addictive sight, a drug to the poor pervert. He feels deranged and creepy for acting this way towards his best friend, the one who holds him tightly, comforts and soothes him through his depression and anxiety. Although, each stroke feels like heaven and he's too distracted by the depraved fantasies inside of his corrupted mind to notice or sense your presence.

“Godverdammt... I'm so sorry, little one. I know–I know I'm disgusting and strange, shame me.” You can hear his heavy breathing, the shakiness and uneasiness in his voice as he degrades and shames himself, his cock swelling with pleasure inside of the tightness of your gummy cunt. His thumb pushes against your tight asshole while you bounce onto his wet dick, coating him in your sweet fluids while giggling and mocking him for being a loser.

Fuck, maybe even let König record this. It'll give him something new to jerk off to, something different from the innocent and sweet pictures filling his camera roll.

“You’re such a freak, König... Now, be quiet and let me punish you for being such a gross loser.”

[partiallysame]

Gaz wasn’t like soap or ghost. Didn’t understand when they would talk about following a bird home. Told them they were creeps when they admitted they would spy on women. The way they talked about it made his skin crawl (and his pants tighter) but he was an upstanding gentleman. Not a depraved pervert like them. But then you moved into the flat across the street and always left the curtains open. All the lights on. Just walking around in your underwear and sometimes nothing. But he wasn’t like those disgusting men when he stroked his cock to you walking around in just a towel. He wasn’t like them when he was cumming all over his hand when he could see every inch of your body through your window. It wasn’t creepy as he spied on you in the comfort of your own home. No kyle was a gentleman

[goatgoesmbe]

Konig: *blushing* WHY ARE YOU NAKED??!!

Y/N: *screaming* WHY ARE YOU IN MY ROOM??!!

[3amfanfiction]

hi hi three! i hab an idea for you :3

imagine ur dog runs away and you winds up in the hands of johnny. thankfully the little (shit) baby has a collar with your name and digits so johnny gives you a call and immediately becomes obsessed from the sound of your voice. when you come over to pick up your dog with cash in your hand, he declines. instead of cash he would like your underwear (or whatever payment you see fit that is freaky and weird because he is freaky and weird)

I took my sweet time answering this but thank you sm for the prompt, red! It's a short little thing but I hope you enjoy it <33

~~~~

He just slipped out the door. YOUR DOG JUST SLIPPED OUT THE FUCKING DOOR.

You were spun and running before the thought finished processing, chasing after the fluffy tail that was quickly disappearing into the dark.

"Peep!" you shouted, frantic at the thought of him getting lost. You quickly broke out in a sweat in the muggy summer air as you chased after him, each step putting distance between the two of you no matter how hard you fought against it.

"Peep," you called once more as his little paws disappeared, making the most of his bid for freedom as he left you in the dust and scurried away.

"Shit," you cursed, stumbling over an uneven piece of sidewalk, your gaze dropping as you staggered trying not to fall. You picked back up and continued in the last direction you saw him but it was too late. He had successfully eluded capture and was lost in the evening darkness.

You stumbled to a stop, hands on your knees as you fought for air, peering through the gloom to try and find him.

It was a discouraging hour later that you trod back home, exhausted and filthy with no dog in sight.

—

The next day was stressful. You popped out every chance you got to look for Peep but to no avail. You were just settling into the evening when you got the call. A guy by the name of Soap had your baby.

Unique name choices aside, you knew it had been worth it to put your number on the back of Peep's tag. That someone would find your baby wandering and bring him in. He was too much of a sweetheart for people to ignore him for long.

You rushed out of the house headed towards the address the guy rattled off. Not too terribly far from where you were, thankfully. You were glad Peep hadn't kept on running. He could've ended up in the next town over.

The nondescript house you walked up to wasn't anything out of the ordinary. It looked kept up with the other houses in the neighborhood and the yard was free of detritus. The only thing of note was paint supplies set up on the porch, placed on top of a tarp to protect the wood.

Walking up the stairs you fought to catch your breath. You'd made quick time of getting over here and now your lungs were trying to catch up. You paused for a moment, hands on your hips, only for the door to open without prompting. He'd clearly been watching, waiting for you.

The man who opened the door was striking. A shaggy, grown-out mohawk met with the stubbly beard on his face, the whole set-up making him look wild and unkempt. His blue eyes glowed in the darkness as if lit with some inner light that shined through them, causing an almost manic appearance.

And he was big. Taller than you with biceps that looked like they could crush a watermelon.

Still, you offered up your brightest smile. "I heard you found my dog, Peep?"

He smiled at you like he'd won the lottery. "Aye, hen, that I did. Wee little pup came right up to me when I was bringing in supplies. Awful loveable, isn't he?"

"He is," you agreed, always happy to talk about Peep, "He's never met a person he didn't like. If you stand still long enough he'll be pressed right up against your calf." You smiled warmly his way, not catching the way his face lit up at the expression, "I can't thank you enough for finding him. I'll take him off your hands and I'll definitely be keeping better track whenever the door is open."

You reached into your pocket, pulling out cash for a reward when he interrupted you. Times were tight so it was a sore hit to be losing the money but Peep was worth more than a few missed dinners the next couple of weeks. You'd make do, you always did.

"Nae, bonnie, I dinnae want your money. But there is something else I would take as a reward."

You frowned but put the money back in your pocket, trying not to look this gift horse in the mouth. "What would you like?"

"I'll take that pair of panties you're wearing right now."

Your spine stiffened in shock. Your underwear? He wanted your underwear. What was he, some kind of pervert? You frowned at him, unsure if he was pulling some crude joke.

"You've got to be kidding."

"Nae, honest as the day is long. Your underthings for your pup, simple trade."

You thought about kicking up a fuss, yelling and telling him he was a pig for even asking. But then you thought of the alternative. He still had your dog and you were short on cash.

It wasn't the worst thing you could do. People sold their underwear all the time. It was a thriving business. Just never one you thought you'd find yourself in. Were you seriously going to do this? Give some pervert your panties to get your dog back?

Well, when you put it like that.

You bit your lip in discomfort as you bent down. You were thankful you were still in your skirt from the day, reaching up under it while keeping everything hidden and easing the fabric down from around your hips. By the time they were off, you were blinking back the flood of embarrassed tears.

It was just a plain cotton pair but from the way Soap's eyes lit up you'd think it was fancy lingerie you'd just pulled off. Something with lace and bows and too many ribbons.

He held his hand out eagerly but you pulled them back, clutched tightly to your chest. "Peep?" you warbled.

"Ah, right. Just a mo'—" before he disappeared inside, leaving the door propped open in invitation if you were bold enough to take it.

You weren't and were quite happy to stay out on the porch.

He was back in no time with Peep firmly leashed and held by his big hand. Peep started dancing as soon as he saw you, eager to say hi after being away all night and all day.

"Baby!" you started forward only for Soap to throw out a hand expectantly. With a nervous swallow you dropped the panties in his hand as you sunk to greet Peep. "I've missed you, you can't go running out the door like that, sweetheart," you chastised.

Standing up you thanked Soap again only to see him quickly pulling the panties away from his face. You ignored it and thanked him for finding Peep and moved to take the leash.

"One more thing."

You froze, your fingers not quite grasping the leash. One more thing? He already had your underwear and your dignity, what more could he possibly want?

He shoved the underwear in a pocked and held out his newly freed hand, palm up and open, cupped as if to receive a blessing. "Want you to spit."

"Excuse me?" you stuttered, taken aback by the request. You thought he couldn't get any weirder but you were obviously wrong. Spit? For what purpose?

"You heard me. Spit and I'll let you take sweet Peep back."

You fought with yourself. You couldn't spit in his hand, could you? Although, it wouldn't hurt you any to do it, it would just be awkward. This whole meeting had already been awkward enough, what was a little more.

With trepidation you leaned over his hand and sucked your cheeks, working up a glob to deposit in his hand. You pulled back with a grimace, wiping you lips as you backed away, tugging Peep from his hand at the same time.

You watched the way he was looked at his cupped palm as if it was the holy grail.

"Now get out of here. I've got plans for this and I don't want it drying. Unless, of course," he turned a lascivious smile your way, "You'd be interested in coming inside?"

Absolutely not. You'd hit your limit of strange for the night. Saying your goodbyes you edged off the porch, eager to be back in the safety of your own home. Away from this sleazy heel of a man.

But now he had your name, phone number, and what you looked like. You'd be seeing him again whether you wanted to or not.

[rainydayathogwarts]

The Chosen one - Ron Weasley

summary: harry may be the chosen one, but he wasn't the one you chose. (lowkey creep!harry) wc: 1.3k

When Ron had first noticed Harry’s lingering gaze following you whenever you appeared he only rolled his yes; you were yet another girl he would have to hear Harry constantly ranting about. He was sick of the boy's tendency to play around with girls' feelings, yet never stop talking about them. The first couple of weeks, neither you or Harry had spoken a word to each other. Harry stared, couldn’t speak to you when you were around, a blush overtaking his features. Ron, leaning his chin on his hand, tried not to make snarky remarks at his friend about his painfully obvious crush on you. You, on the other hand, didn’t seem to know the boy existed. However as time went on, it became glaringly evident that you weren't just another crush because Harry was silent about you and hadn't tried speaking to you as the month went by.

If Harry wanted you, he should’ve just made his move because it seemed that the chosen one got everything he ever wanted. Ron lived in Harry’s shadow, and it was getting harder to be the supportive best friend day by day, his jealousy stirring inside him like a beast ready to be unleashed. So about a month after Harry’s feelings for you began developing, when you approached the pair with your friend, offering to work as a group in Potions class, the last thing Ron expected was for you to turn your attention to him rather than his best friend.

“I think Ron should crush the griffin claws.” you started, eyes glinting with something more than friendly kindness when you turned to face him. “You’ve definitely got the muscles for it.” Ron felt his pale skin heat up with a pink flush, and he ducked his head in embarrassment, feeling Harry’s stare on the side of his neck. Ron took the compliment with a chuckle, exchanging conversation with you throughout the lesson, your friend making comments every now and then while Harry hadn’t uttered a single word, his gaze trained on you laughing with his best friend. The ginger walked out of lesson with a newfound confidence in his stride, chest puffed out with a sense of security, feelings for you immediately blossoming. “She’s absolutely amazing, isn’t she?” He’d told Harry, and only then did he notice his best friend jealously fuming next to him. Harry hummed, clutching his book bag so hard his knuckles turned white.

Ron gulped, a dilemma forming in his mind. It was obvious his best friend had feelings for you, however he had never said a word about you to him, and Ron fully understood where Harry was coming from, a crush of his own moulding. Ron could make his move on you, playing the clueless friend and pretending not to know about his best friend’s painful crush on you. He'd return the flirting, see where things went with you. Maybe it was time for Harry to know what it was like wanting things the person closest to him had.

When you'd finally asked Ron out, a hopeful smile on your face while you looked up at him, Harry had immediately left the common room to go sulk in his dorm, within the comfort of his four poster bed. Successful date after the other, Ron was proudly able to call you his girlfriend, and soon enough, you hit the three month mark. Sat on Ron's lap in the cozy window nook of his dorm, you told him about your day, and the unfortunate detention Snape give you, one hand playing with your boyfriend's fiery hair. Ron hummed along where appropriate, adding comments whenever you paused shortly, hand on your thigh, settled just under your skirt, the other resting on your hip. He listened to every word you said, but more importantly, he focused on Harry's gaze stuck on your figure from where he hid in the confines of his bed, Charms textbook uselessly open on his lap.

Where Ron had a girl, Harry had his textbook. The thought made Ron smile.

Finally finishing your story, you pressed your soft lips against Ron's, feeling his smile through the kiss. "I love you." You whispered, finally pulling away from him. Ron's eyes shot open in shock, a wide grin gracing his features "What was that?" He teased, wanting to hear the words escape your lips once more, lightly tickling your sides. You squealed, jerking away from him only to repeat, much louder this time "I love you, you dork!" Ron laughed in joy, arms wrapping around your waist whilst you threw yours over his shoulder, squeezing him closer to you to peck his lips. You readjusted yourself on his lap to straddle him, tucking your head in the crook of his neck and shutting your eyes in satisfaction when you hear him murmur to you "I love you too."

Harry’s face flushed as blood rushed to his face in a mix of anger and envy. He knew he should have told you how he felt when he realised he liked you. And now, he had to look at you melt your body against his best friend’s, yelling about your love from the roof tops. Harry watched with resentment as Ron’s hands trailed down your body, and how you continued pressing teasing kisses against his lips. He had enough. “Get a room!” He exclaimed, pulling the curtains of his four-poster bed shut.

“Sorry Harry.” He heard you mutter with embarrassment. Your and Ron’s footsteps were loud on the wooden floor as you crossed the bedroom, pulling the door shut behind you as you made your escape. You were probably headed to your dorm. Your dorm, which would probably be empty, and leave you and Ron the freedom to do anything you wanted to. Harry shut his eyes tightly. He hadn’t meant to shoo you both out of the room, especially not you. He just didn’t want to see you and Ron together.

Harry shut his charms textbook, tossing it to the side and getting out of bed. He glanced around the room, gaze finally landing on Ron’s bed. Shit. He approached his best friend’s bed, falling to his knees once he was in front of his side table. He pulled the top drawer open, attention immediately caught by the polaroid at the top of the drawer. It seemed like a trap. Like if Harry took held the photo, the door would swing open and Ron would walk in, an accusing finger pointed at Harry whilst he yelled that he knew that Harry had a crush on you. Harry pushed the polaroid of you and Ron aside. You looked too happy together at the latest party Gryffindor Tower hosted, smiling widely as Ron pressed a kiss to your cheek. No, Harry wasn’t interested in that. What he was interested in was the fourth photo he came across.

The photo was rather… suggestive, if Harry could phrase it that way. The photo cut off just above your shoulders, focused towards your chest, barely covered in a tank top. You were clearly taking the image, because Ron’s hands were too occupied acting as a bra for you, squeezing your tits just enough to push them up slightly. Harry pocketed the image, instantly rushing to the bathroom before pulling his trousers down. He felt bad, but not guilty enough to stop himself from jerking off to the image of his best friend’s girlfriend, and especially not while you were both fucking in your dorm, barely a hundred meters away.

Hours later, when Ron and Harry returned to their dorm after dinner, Ron’s attention was immediately caught by his open drawer. The drawer that he certainly hadn’t opened today. He turned to take a glance at Harry, watching as his best friend crawled into bed without another look back. It didn’t take Ron looking through his drawer to know what had gone missing from it, nor who had taken it.

[yeyinde]

regency era Price au where he's a little bit of a creep. thirsting after the poor servant girl attending to his wife. cornering her in the rooms she's working in by putting his burly body into the doorframe, blocking her only escape as he watches her work. and she's so naive that she thinks he believes her a thief. poor thing. refuses to budge when he dismisses her, so she's forced to squeeze past him to get by. gets groped as she does so, but he's her employer. what can she say? and besides. everyone says he's a good man. surely this must be fine, then?

he asks her questions that get progressively grosser and intrusive as time goes on, and refuses to let her leave until she answers. humiliating, shameful questions dragged out into the open. do you have any family. can you really say they love you if they let you work like this? like a dog? does anyone really care about you at all? why are you working here? have you ever been kissed? touched yourself? ever lain with a man?

no? well. he'll help you out with that.

a nasty man who uses your inexperience to his advantage, whispering in your ear that he's the only one who can do this to you, who put that ache deep inside of you. the only one who can fill it, too. gets you drunk and fucks you on his marriage bed, promises that Mrs Price will be gone soon enough, don't you worry your little head over that. he'll take care of everything, sweet girl.

it causes quite the controversy when Mrs Price goes missing the next morning. ran away, you see. was never quite happy with her husband, anyway. A divorcee of only a few weeks and already "courting" the old servant girl who used to attend to his wife. pregnant out of wedlock, they whisper. the poor girl taken for a fool by one of Mr Price's associate. good thing Mr Price is there to step up for you despite the stigma, caring for your child as if it was his own. such a good man, isn't he? you could do a lot worse.

[lordprettyflackotara]

danger || masky & eyeless jack

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+ tw: threesome! congrats you take a trip to paris! exhibitionism, breeding, slight size kink, rough sex, degrading, face fucking

Masky did not consider himself a selfish man.

If anything he thought of himself to be reasonable.

So when it came to meeting you by mistake, a stereotypical robbery he was performing going wrong, he didn’t consider himself selfish for not killing you.

If anyone knew the proxies golden rule of never being able to be traced it was him. But maybe he was selfish when it came to you. You were a little small town receptionist in a town he frequented. Not necessarily for missions, but he passed through frequently. If anyone knew of your existence you’d be terminated on the spot. You knew Masky lived a fast and unpredictable life, but he made sure to keep you in the shadows as to why or how. He figured you just accepted that he was in a gang or the mafia or something. It would be the most logical assumption, especially with the mask glued to his face and off putting name. Still though, Masky found himself going to see you every chance he got. As time went on he began accepting and asking for more solo missions, using the extra tasks as an excuse to see you.

He thought he had done a damn good job of keeping you safe from his terrifying life, until you had followed him into the forest as he trudged home.

It was nothing but morbid curiosity that led you to nip at Masky’s heels as you followed him. You were surprised he hadn’t heard you, your lover stopping at the forest line. Your eyes widened at the sight of a large seemingly unoccupied mansion that sat in the middle of a well trimmed field. Many questions ran through your mind, the most important one being: why would Masky willingly live here? It wasn’t necessarily out of character but it wasn’t the most flattering choice. Your boyfriend was ominous and mysterious, purposefully keeping you in the dark about his life. At first it was intriguing, but the longer he kept the affair going, the more curious you became. Despite the relationship revolving around sex, you wanted to discuss taking things to the next level. Maybe instead of raw dogging in your car you could try a movie instead. You couldn’t think of a better way than showing him you were serious by showing your dedication.

Most people wouldn’t follow their possible mafia boyfriend into a patch of secluded woods, but nevertheless you did so. You thought maybe he realized you were there, inhaling his cigarette as he stood at the forest line. “Hey there,” You greeted excitedly. Masky jumped at the sound of your voice, realizing he was too lost in his own thoughts to hear you follow him. “Princess? What the fuck are you doing here?” He snapped, becoming increasingly panicked. There were many horrific scenarios that could occur with you being here. It was a miracle The Rake hadn’t heard your heart beating or smelled you. The next terrifying scenario was Smile Dog smelling you, but he remembered Jeff took him and Nina on a late night killing spree. They called themselves ‘the triple threat’, which until now Masky thought was incredibly stupid. He now was suddenly thankful for Jeff and his inflated ego.

Next was The Operator, who could most likely read your thoughts. If he suspected an unwelcome guest was on the property he would know to search. Otherwise unless he physically ran into you, Masky doubted that would be a problem. His eyes widened as he realized the last scenario, was undoubtedly the most realistic and the least preventable. “I followed you. I think it’s time to take things to the next level and-” You began, Masky roughly grabbing your arm and cutting you off. He yanked you into the clearing, bee lining straight for the house. “Ow! Masky what the hell?!” You hissed, The brunette angrily threw his cigarette on the lawn, stomping on it and trudging closer to the mansion. You began to try to pull away when he didn’t answer, this only angering him further. In a fit of rage he turned around, glaring down at you. “Do you have any idea what kind of danger you’re in by being here?” He seethed.

“Relax no one knows i’m here, it’s not like they can smell me,” You argued. Masky pulled you further, clenching his jaw. “Actually princess, they can,” He barked. He threw open the back kitchen door, looking around before dragging you inside. “You need to stay quiet, just stay behind me,” Masky whispered. He loosened his grip on your arm, slithering it down to your hand. You intertwined your fingers with his, allowing him to lead you further into the unsettling mansion. Masky peaked around the corner, Ben passed out on the living room couch with an open bag of doritos on his chest. “Who is that-” You began to whisper, Masky hissing at you to shush. You zipped your lips, trailing behind him as he led you up the stairs. Masky was acutely aware of how intense the situation was, his heart racing. Any creep could come home at any time, which would result in your untimely demise. You followed him down the seemingly endless hallway, looking around and noting the countless doors that lined each wall.

Masky yanked open his bedroom door, throwing you inside and shutting it quickly. He fiddled with the lock, dead bolting it before turning to you. “You need to listen to me very carefully, you are in grave danger being here,” Masky said as calmly as he could muster. You sarcastically chuckled, crossing your arms. “Oh cmon, what could your mafia friends possibly do to me?” You asked naively. Masky turned on his bedside lamp, illuminating the serious expression on his face as he took off his mask. “I am not in the goddamn mafia. I live amongst immortal serial killers that would tear your organs out if they knew you were here,” He rambled. He ran his fingers through his hair, his brain racking itself for a solution. “Masky if you don’t want us to be anything more than fuck buddies just say so don’t make up some elaborate lie,” You argued flatly. Masky turned to you, gripping your forearms. “Elaborate lie??? Are you fucking listening to me?” He hissed.

It was a loud knock on Masky’s door that interrupted your argument, the two of you looking over at the door in horror. “You weren’t lying were you?” You whispered. If Masky didn’t know who was at the door he would’ve rolled his eyes. “No I wasn’t now hide,” He whispered aggressively. You threw yourself around his bed, crawling underneath it. Dust buddies danced around your body as you tried to hold your breath, Masky opening the door. He wasn’t surprised to see Eyeless Jack standing outside. His mask hid his facial expression, making his presence ominous. “EJ!” Masky greeted, trying to not visibly sweat bullets. Jack didn’t move, standing completely still. “Masky,” He replied flatly. You itched your nose, the dust buddies violating your nostrils as you hid under the bed. You couldn’t see the horrific monster that was Eyeless Jack, hiding under the bed only allowing you to see his large boots. “What uh, what brings you here?” Masky asked as calmly as possible. Jack tilted his head to the side, his ears twitching. “I think we both know why i’m here Masky,” He said coldly.

Masky threw his hands up sarcastically, leaning on the bedroom door. “No not at all would you like to elaborate?” Masky asked. You cringed as you tried to itch your nose, the dust causing you to awkwardly try to put your sleeve over your face. It was then you couldn’t hold it back anymore. You sneezed, Masky trying his hardest not to turn around. “Did your bed just sneeze?” Jack asked. Masky grabbed Jack by his sleeve, dragging him inside of his bedroom. He shut the door. You awkwardly took it as you cue to crawl out from under the bed, meeting the assertive gazes of Jack and Masky. Jack extended his hand for you to take, helping you rise to your feet. You stared up at him in awe, visibly gawking at his overbearing height. “Do I want to ask?” Jack questioned. Masky awkwardly shuffled his weight on each leg. “Jack this is my girlfriend….” Masky said, his voice trailing off. With wide eyes you waved, Jack’s eye sockets narrowing under his mask.

“Bringing another human here with a loud ass heartbeat like that wasn’t the brightest idea,” Jack said. Masky ran his fingers through his hair anxiously, before digging in his pockets for a cigarette. “He can hear my heartbeat?” You whispered to Masky, who side eyed you before returning his attention to Jack. He sighed, finally finding a cigarette in his pocket. “Jack you do so much for me I need you to do me one final solid and help me transport her out of here alive,” Masky said. You looked back and forth between the two.

“Uh Mask that sounds just a little bit traffick-y if you know what I mean-”

The death glare he delivered demanded that you be quiet, but the two of you were awaiting Jack’s response. “What’s in it for me?” The demon asked, his large hands leaving his hoodie pockets. You couldn’t help but notice the dark ash color that seemed to be his skin tone, your heart pounding even faster. “Whatever you want Jack, seriously, i’m in your debt,” Masky rambled. Being in debt and/or owing a favor to anyone in the mansion was practically a death sentence, but he’d do anything for you. Jack looked over at you, causing you to stand more awkwardly. His gaze went up and down, scanning your body. Masky immediately picked up on what he was doing, clenching his jaw. “Nuh uh no way EJ, burn in hell,” He growled. He fumbled to find a lighter, finally locating one in his coat. “My seasonal heat is only a few days away. If I release appropriate steam beforehand perhaps I won’t accidentally terrorize Jane this year,” Jack fully proposed. Your mind swirled at the phrase ‘heat’, instantly trying to dissect the meaning. “So what? You want a threesome?” Masky questioned through gritted teeth. Jack sighed, watching the proxy scramble to light his cigarette. “Of course not, i’d expect you to watch. I don’t think you could keep up with my pacing,” Jack denied.

The realization of what was happening made your eyes widen, a chill running down your spine as you watched the two bicker. You loved Masky endlessly, but the sight of a giant demon requesting to have sex with you so formally was turning you on. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, you found yourself terrified but also aroused as to what such an unpredictable monster could do to you. Masky was rambling at this point, before Jack stopped him.

“She wants me.”

“What? EJ you’ve lost your goddamn mind-”

“I can smell her.”

The silence in the room was heavy as Masky’s gaze fell on you. “Really princess?” He asked. You watched him inhale his cigarette like he always did, something different crossing his eyes. Nodding, Masky then sighed. “Alright fine, whatever it takes to keep her alive. I’ll be in the corner watching though. Gotta make sure you won’t eat her,” Masky agreed. You watched him grab a wooden chair, pulling it and sitting on it in the corner of the room. His legs were spread as he slid his mask back on, hiding his facial expression as he watched you face Jack. “Uh hi,” You greeted awkwardly. Jack had a sinister grin curling up his lips under his mask as he looked down at you. “I’m not much of a talker, just let me know if things are too much for you, alright?” The demon asked. You nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed. Jack crawled on top of you, guiding you to lay on your back. Anxiously you closed your eyes, feeling him lift his mask to kiss your neck. He could feel the blood pumping through your veins, with each kiss, his own heart beginning to race.

Jack couldn’t recall the last time he had a mate during his heats and he planned on taking full advantage of the situation. And with you being a small human girl, he knew his plans would go very smoothly. It was easy to please a woman, he thought. He sucked and nipped at your skin, his razor sharp teeth grazing your skin. “If I see blood i’ll have your head EJ,” Masky interrupted, his voice cold and dripping with venom. Jack brought his large hands to your breast, ignoring Masky’s comment. He could smell your arousal becoming more apparent, the demon almost sure your panties were soaked by now. He palmed at your nipples through your shirt, quite frankly finding himself becoming impatient. Unfortunately though due to the size difference you’d need prep work. It was taking Jack everything in him to not bend you over in front of the proxy and fuck you senseless. He kissed down your stomach, relishing in the sight of your hips bucking upwards eagerly. “You can be loud you know, won’t bother me at all,” Jack hummed. You were sure your face was red, the embarrassment of his words and Masky’s endless stare humiliating you. “R-Right of course,” You swallowed, the demon’s long fingers looping through the hoops of your jeans.

In a swift motion he pulled them down, exposing your lacey pink panties. “How cute is this, did you wear these just for Masky?” Jack asked, his mischievous smile allowing you to see his rows of razor sharp teeth. You babbled an agreement, your hips bucking upwards with desperation. Goosebumps trailed across your skin as he began to pull your panties downwards with his teeth, the pointy ends tearing at the fabric. By the time it reached your ankles it was a pile of scraps, one Jack threw at Masky before nuzzling back in between your thighs. He ran two fingers up and down your slick, collecting your arousal before shoving it back inside of you. Jack’s fingers were much longer than your lovers, your back arching off of the bed once he curled them. “There we go, why don’t you relax and loosen up for me?” Jack purred. The feeling of your walls clinging to his digits were only making his cock harder, your thighs attempting to close as Jack unexpectedly began to ruthlessly finger fuck you. He didn’t bother going slow, knowing you were beyond eager to have him ruin you as a show for your pretty human boyfriend. Masky had already finished his first cigarette, going for a second one as his cock grew harder in his jeans. His pride refused to let him admit seeing you melt for a demon aroused him.

His fingers abused your g spot, his other large hand prying your thighs open and forcing you to take what he was giving you. You were seeing stars, your sinful moans surely loud enough for the mansions other residents to hear. “Awe, doesn’t that feel good human? So impossibly good?” Jack chuckled darkly, watching your thighs begin to tremble. You grabbed onto his wrist in an attempt to slow him down, unable to control your body from chasing its first orgasm. “Wow would you look at that. About to cum already? That must be some sort of world record, don’t you agree Masky?” Jack asked sarcastically, grinning as he pinned one of your thighs down onto the bed. Masky clenched his jaw, inhaling his cigarette as reached your first climax. Jack’s motions were not only rough but ruthless, finger fucking you through your orgasm as your vision turned white. You were palming at the sheets, Jack quick to rearrange you once you had rode out your high. You could barely process it as Jack put you on all fours, grabbing your ass and guiding it against his cock. Masky narrowed his eyes as you eagerly tried to wiggle your ass against Jack, desperate for him to get on with it.

Jack gripped at the mounds of your ass, spreading them open and examining your holes. “You sure did pick a pretty one Masky,” He complimented, your face flushing as you heard him unzip his pants. The demon teased you with the tip of his cock, your body stiffening. You had never seen nevertheless felt such a large cock, your anxiety rising as he collected your slick. “Arch your back human, give Masky a proper show,” Jack encouraged, pushing himself inside of you. Surprisingly it didn’t take long for the impossible stretch to become feasible, your walls milking Jack’s cock as he sank deeper into you. Along with this satisfaction came your moans, the demons name finally falling off of your tongue. The sound of that pushed Masky to the limit, the proxy flicking his cigarette to the side and rising from his chair. Angrily he grabbed a fistful of your hair, unzipping his jeans. “This wasn’t apart of the agreement,” Jack hummed, his cock buried inside of your cunt. He hadn’t moved yet, curious to see what the proxy would do. “I don’t give a shit. No girl of mine is gonna be moaning your name,” Masky huffed, shoving down his jeans and boxers.

The sight of your aching boyfriend’s cock made you roll out your tongue, your mouth practically watering at the sight of it. Masky was quick to stuff your mouth with his shaft, causing you to choke as he pushed you down further onto him. Jack took this as his cue to begin fucking you, his slender fingers digging into your ass as he snapped his hips into yours. You braced yourself as best as you could, Masky groaning as he shoved himself down your throat. “Dirty fuckin whore, gettin’ off to me and a demon ruining you? Pathetic,” Masky snarled. It infuriated him to see you enjoying Jack’s cock as much as you were, your body shaking with ecstasy as you were squished between both men. But something about the humiliation of seeing you enjoy it so much did something for the proxy, whether or not he wanted to admit it. He shoved himself further down your throat, watching you gag on his cock. Saliva dripped down the sides of your mouth, tears flooding your waterline. “You picked a fine mate. Is very easy to breed it seems,” Jack added, noting your walls fluttering around him as he spoke the statement. “Fuckin slut,” Masky growled, yanking forcefully at your hair and making you gag on his cock. Your moans were nothing but extra vibrations for Masky to enjoy, your ability to breathe delightfully restricted in the best way.

Jack’s thrust were merciless, the urge to breed you forever clouding his mind as he focused on the task at hand. Masky wanted nothing more than to see you suffer for his own pleasure, face fucking you as roughly as he possibly could. “You’re such a fuckin slut you’re gonna let a demon cum in you? Really? Stupid bitch,” Masky rambled, feeling his own high coming on. Jack’s fingers were leaving indented bruises on your ass, his cock abusing your cervix with each thrust as he pushed you further and further towards your boyfriend’s cock. You were on a mind numbing high, your body convulsing as you unexpectedly came again. You were too dazed to think, allowing your body to go slack and expecting both men to keep you upright. It wasn’t long before both men filled both of your holes. “Dont swallow my cum slut, stick out your tongue,” Masky barked. You did as instructed, smudged mascara and lipstick down your face. You could feel Jack’s warm cum fill up your womb, so much so extra semen was dripping down your cunt. The demon rounded the bed, joining Masky’s side as they stared at you. You were humiliated as their cum dropped down your tongue and abused cunt.

“What a filthy fuckin cum dump.”

“You seem to be right on that.”

“What’d you say we fill her up some more? She still has another hole to fill after all.”

[pricetagged]

Idk how to label this. Wifehunter John?

The idea of possessive/obsessive John manipulating a situation and stealing a wife for himself struck me, so just coughing the idea up while I sneak away for a coffee before I actually have to start work in 20 mins 💖 entirely unedited, abrupt ending

Masterlist l Part Two

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For someone married to his job, he has put quite a bit of thought into what he is looking for in a wife. Namely, that she's already married.

His reasoning is threefold. He can admit to himself, firstly, that it satisfies his need for control. Competency. He's a busy man with a demanding job. Not quite retired yet, no time to build his own from scratch. With this, he gets a wife boxed up and ready-trained. Broken in.

Secondly, the need for control bleeds into his saviour complex. She'll need a shoulder to cry on, someone strong and capable to get her back on her feet. She'll be feeling a little fragile. Needy. Perfect.

And thirdly, it does something wild to his jealous, possessive streak. The idea of taking something precious, of breaking her bond to another man and tying it to him? Delicious. The idea that she used to be someone else's, that he has to imprint himself onto her knowing that in doing so he is erasing the imprint of another man? It has his teeth aching, grinding even as heat rises in his belly. Stirs at him.

The idea swirls lazily in the back of his mind, never quite finding the right time or right partner. He bats at it a few times, lazy cat playing with the notion, seeing how far it can stretch before it snaps. Eyes up pretty things everywhere he goes, glancing down at their left hands just to check, but nothing quite tugs on that string. Until one day it does when he's outfitting the security system at your house.

It's side work. Cash in hand, word of mouth. Something to keep him busy when on mandated leave. Something to keep in mind as his retirement from active duty creeps closer. And your husband is a real piece of work, all blustering braggadocio energy. Young buck, not knowing his place in the herd. Not knowing that he'd be better scratching his antlers off on a tree than going head-to-head with a gristled thing like John.

It's like John's energy, his presence in the house, sends alarm bells ringing in your husband's mind (Be the man. Don't back down. Puff up your chest and strut). And it plays so perfectly into John's hands because your young buck doesn't realise that what he's really doing is fawning. To John. (Look at me, be impressed by me!) He makes his biggest mistake in putting you down in front of him, trying to sidle up to John and create some kind of desperate camaraderie. Ordering you to bring tea to the men at work. Rolling his eyes at your attempts to talk, to ask questions about the work being done. Waving you off so he can stand and watch the proceedings. Like he could supervise. Like he has any clue what he's doing.

Only the promise of the long game keeps John from levelling him with a hard look, from calling him outblike he'd love to.

He hears you both in the in the other room, having swatted the young buck off like a particularly virulent pest. Noisy and bothersome. Not needed - or wanted- in this home. And entirely too stupid to realise that John wasn't being jocular in his dismissal.

You've been scribbling away for the past few days, something occupying your time, keeping you happy and hidden away in the kitchen.

"You're not serious, are you?"

"Well, yes," he hears the slight quaver in your voice before you find your footing. You've got at least a bit of spine. Good. "You said that I should find an occupation. Not just 'laze around the house playing housewife'. This is what I-"

"Oh come on, I didn't mean- You don't think that this is viable, do you?"

"Well... I love gardening. And I'm good at it. And there's no reason that it can't be more accessible for people, especially with the current economic-"

He cuts you off with a scoff. "Dear, just- I don't want you to be disappointed. I think you don't quite understand the time and effort this will take. And you know nothing of marketing, publishing. Why don't you put that away and start on dinner?"

And oh, isn't that delicious. He can taste it now, that idea that has been swirling. It's thick, almost tangible on his tongue. The tension in the house, the bitter lacryma of stifled tears. The slight acidity of words you left unsaid. It has his mouth watering, pupils dilating.

And when he's packing up that evening, tools and materials tucked in to the heavy workman's case, he swings by the kitchen on his way out. Catches the way something is jutting out slightly from the bin, lid slightly askew. When he pulls it out he realises it's some kind of notebook, carefully (lovingly) bound. Pictures pasted, mindmaps and notes and plans scribbled in the margins. Your gardening tips. Kitchen scraps, window boxes, rooftop plots. Urban gardening. It's deeply thoughtful, well researched.

A labour of love, lying in the rubbish.

Sweet, clever little thing. That just won't do.

He leaves your house with a little piece of you tucked away in his toolkit and a nice plan forming. He'll be back, of course, not quite finished with his work. He'd planted a few little links into the system he'd almost installed, projecting not just to the monitor in your home but also in his. Got to keep his eyes on you, keep you safe and cared for in ways that your useless husband can't.

Finding that book was a boon. He'd say it was divinely ordained if he believed in all that. It weighs heavy in his toolbox as he whistles out the door.

Now, how to get you alone and return it to you..

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This idea may have been done before? I'm not sure, sorry! I've seen a lot of possessive John floating around. Tagging @stellewriites because I said I would last time, and you've been so encouraging of my nonsense.

Anyway I've got like 4 long-form WIPs that I'm working on, so I may never actually write this one but thought I'd share since that image set I just reblogged made me feral 💖

[jesuistrestriste]

sigh.. thinking of gooner!art who finally found someone irl who could satisfy his needs and makes them slap him repeatedly on the face while telling him to “keep pumping” as he sits obediently on his knees, having the time of his life :D

sitting on the floor in front of them and telling them to do whatever they want to him. he’s just happy to be there ! ! his hand down his boxers to tug his swollen cock out, pumping it needily as he gazes up at them and whimpers. pushes his cheek against their knee and keens when they pull his head back by his hair. dribbles all over his fingers when they slap him repeatedly in the face and lovingly welt his skin with their handprint. has to gasp and squeeze around the base of his shaft to stop himself from cumming when they hold his mouth open and spit over his lolled-out tongue..

when they tell him not to edge himself, he obeys without question—it comes so naturally to him to follow orders after watching all of those jerk-off-instruction-hypnosis videos on porn sites and twitter. he thumbs his tip and writhes when he finds himself splurting ropes over his convulsing abdomen. “don’t stop,” they instruct, one hand still fisting his locks, “keep going. i know you have at least seven more in you, you little pervert.”

he actually has at least ten more in him, but he’s too busy finishing again to correct them. too blissed out to even care.