#he's like a wet dog in this I can't get enough of him

[ghoulsgraveyard]

Wear Them. 1/3

Eddie has a nasty habit of stealing panties. What happens when he has to use them for their intended purposes? Content warnings: feminization (reader calls Eddie a girl), panty theft (obvi), subsequent panty wearing, perv!eddie, degradation (the fun kind), fem!reader, reader has a vagina, sub!eddie, dom!reader, slut shaming but also virgin shaming (it makes sense don’t worry), some light cock and ball torture (genital slapping), emotional hurt/comfort (I dont know how that happened it just did) aftercare!

A/N: I did this instead of catching up on my coursework <3 also! not all warning will apply in this chapter.

Eddie Munson knew he was a pervert. He did his best to hide it, wanting to keep the rumors of his sexual deviancy just that; rumors. He leaned into it a little bit, but in the same theatrical way he entertains all the rumors surrounding him, exaggerating to highlight the ridiculous nature of them, he just hoped no one would notice the way he seemed more cautious about this one than the others.

It was easy enough to hide at first. After all his …urges were more theoretical. It was about the concepts and scenarios for him, there was never a face or a name attached to the bodies in his fantasies. While this eased his guilt, he always felt sorta empty? Like the whole situation was hollow and unfinished (how ironic considering the state of his bed sheets)

But then he met you, and things got a lot harder, in more ways than one. You were hot. There was no way around it. But Eddie had dealt with hot people before, what killed him was that he interacted with you. A lot. Because not only were you hot, you were also funny, and nice to him, and you were a total dork like him. How insane is it that a hot girl who plays dnd not only exists but talks to him… willingly!

Still, in the beginning it wasn’t too bad, when you brushed up against him and he shivered he could blame it on his body’s reaction, it had nothing to do with him and nothing to do with you as an individual! Yep! Nothing at all. Just bodies being bodies. Until you didn’t have to touch him to get a reaction, hell you didn’t even have to look at him. Rolling dice wasn’t sexy until you did it, and suddenly he was aware of how your body shook with the motion of your hands, the way the recoil made your tits bounce just a little, the way your lips were pursed as you released the plastic and goddamnit Eddie’s hard at the table. Drinking beer wasn’t sexy until you were at a party, bottle in hand, Eddie was very aware of that hand, the curvature as it wrapped around the shape, how it looked when you raised the bottle to your lips, holy fuck your lips, pursed around the rim of the bottle, the way your throat moved as you swallowed, he nearly came when some dripped out of the sides and you wiped up the excess with your thumb, popping it in your mouth.

He had it bad for you. And it only got worse. Once you gave Eddie a scrunchie to hold his hair back during a test, which later that night he had pressed to his nose so he could smell your shampoo while he desperately fucked his hand. Another time when you were smoking some ash fell on your shirt, burning it, Eddie, ever the gentleman, offered you one of his shirts he didn’t expect for you to change in front of him, then the sight of you in his clothes? He almost popped the button off his jeans with how hard he got.

But the worst of it? The time you two were at skull rock, on top of a sizable boulder, you were wearing this short skirt, and you needed help down after getting higher than intended, and as he was helping you slide down to safety, your skirt rode up, giving Eddie just a flash of your black lacy panties. That was what pushed him off the deep end.

He felt awful, disgusting and horrible everytime you hung out at your house and he snatched a pair of your underwear from your laundry hamper when you went to the bathroom. He was your friend, you trusted him! How could he do this to you? How could he be such a bad boy, so dirty, you should punish him for being so bad and dirty, you should slap him and call him names and and somehow all of Eddie's guilt always morphed into lust. He was wrong and he was filthy but he couldn’t stop, or maybe it just felt too good. Either way your panties were Eddie's new drug of choice. He’d lick the crotch, thinking about how in a way it was an indirect kiss, he’d moan at the remaining taste. He’d shove them to his nose, smelling your musk as he fucked his hand, thinking about you sitting on his face. He’d shove them in his mouth pretending you put them there as a makeshift gag while you punished him. He’d wrap them around his cock and jerk off, desperately humping the fabric. Then he’d cum in them. 

He had this fantasy where after he soiled your panties, he’d find a way to get them back to you, and somehow you don’t notice his dried spend hardening the crotch of them and you’d put them on. He knows you would notice of course you would, but the thought of his cum against your cute pussy all day long with you clueless to the debauched state of your underwear made him delirious. Of course Eddie never returned your panties; he worked too hard to get them and would risk too much giving them back. He kept them in a shoebox under his bed. That same box that held the scrunchies you had given him, a travel size bottle of the lotion you use and some dirty pictures he managed to sneak of you. He was horrible, he disgusted himself, but not enough to change his behavior.

So he kept his habits hidden as best he could, he would be the best, most normal friend to you with zero ulterior motives as to why he preferred your house to his, he would never let you find out about that box under his bed.

You knew, of course. You weren’t an idiot. It was kind of cute? The way he thought he was being sneaky. The way he believed you didn’t notice the clicks of a camera while you changed, or how he thought you were oblivious to your missing panties and the convenient timing of when they disappear, or how he thought he was slick when eyeing your boobs. Of course you knew, you left the curtains open and lit the room well enough for him to take those pictures, you left your used underwear on top of your hamper, you chose low cut tops when you knew you were hanging out. You orchestrated every step and smiled to yourself at his naivety, he truly thought he was that good! But you were getting a bit bored, you kept baiting him but he never made a move. Guess you’d have to continue doing everything.

Heading over to Eddie's trailer at any time would give you a good shot at catching him masturbating, but a Friday night after hellfire? When he had spent the past few hours in close proximity with you, he had a perfect view at your chest and he could practically smell your shampoo from his throne, he was fired up and had the trailer to himself, what else was he going to do?

He was in the process of working himself up, taking it slower, he wanted to savor the experience, placing the shoebox on his bed he grabbed the newest pair of panties he had taken from you, he hadn’t gotten to play with this pair yet and could feel his lower belly burn with excitement. The underwear was a white lacy thong, it had a cut bow at the top, the crotch of the panties themselves were smaller than he usually likes but he could forgive it because the fabric tapered into a g-string. It was positively sinful and contrasted with the cute bows and innocent color deliciously. He grabbed the bottle of your lotion and applied a small amount to his right hand wanting it to last, as he rubbed it in he grabbed some lube. He muttered to himself trying to get lost in a fantasy but none really came to mind. Whatever, he can brainstorm while touching himself.

Lost in thought Eddie didn’t pick up on the sound of the spare key turning in the lock, he didn’t hear the click of the door shutting, with his eyes fluttering shut he didn’t see your shadow in his hallway, and he didn’t hear the whine of his door opening. He did, however, hear you clear your throat. His eyes shot open in terror, dread filled him as he took in your frame, standing in his room, looking directly at him. He scrambled to cover himself but he knew it was too late, you had seen him. The damage was done. He wanted to disappear. This was the nightmare scenario he would give anything for the earth to swallow him whole. The ringing in his ears was so loud, but your voice cut through it with four words that filled him with shame“whatcha got there Eddie?” your tone was taunting, knowing. You wanted him to admit it. Eddie’s eyes were wide, his face flushed in shame and his mouth gaping, opening and closing. “Well?” you continued. Eddie whimpered in shame then found his voice “I-I'm so unbelievably sorry oh my god I hate myself for doing this I just- I can’t- there's no excuses and I know that what I've done is unforgivable I just- I'm so so sorry- I can’t- I” his voice shook the whole time, then broke with the dam in his eyes, fat tears rolled down his cheeks “I'm so sorry” he gasped and sobbed, shivering and repeating how sorry he was.

This was not how you expected him to react. In your mind Eddie would’ve paused then kept going and you would work from there. You realize now how much of his cockyness and theatrics were a farce. You felt terrible watching him sob and shiver on his bed. “Oh baby” you sat on the bed and hushed him “baby I'm not mad it’s okay” you cooed at him, pulling him closer to you “please don’t cry for me baby I didn’t mean to hurt you” you lightly rocked him back and forth as you tried to soothe him, he hiccuped in your arms, then looked up at you with wide wet eyes “y-you’re not?” his voice was so small and scared you just melted “no sweetie I'm not mad at all, I'm sorry for making you sad little one” it didn’t matter that Eddie was both taller and older than you, the way you spoke so softly to him and how you held him so gently he glowed at the name, he sniffled “not sad” you cocked your head, he continued “not sad, just embarrassed” he mumbled. That eased your fears, he was okay, just spooked. “Eddie you don’t need to be embarrassed” at that he sat up and wiped his face “I find it very hard to believe that I'm not supposed to be embarrassed after being walked in on by you while I was masturbating with your panties next to a box full of incriminating evidence that I'm a stalker pervert creep.” he choked up again, after you just stopped him from crying! 

Trying to deescalate again you moved to follow him on the other side of the bed, and you held his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you “Eddie I need you to believe me when I say that it’s okay. I'm not mad at you, and you shouldn’t be embarrassed” he opens his mouth to cut you off but you silence him “don’t talk over me. I'm about to explain a lot and I need you to listen to me and hear me, okay baby?” he nodded slowly “I've known. The whole time. Before the whole time actually.” his eyes widened in panic “ah ah ah! Listen to me. I've known even before you started that collection because I'm the one who set it up, okay?” he furrowed his eyebrows, thoroughly confused “I'm smart Eddie, or at the very least I spend a lot of time thinking about you. So I noticed pretty quick. I started wearing lower cut tops after I noticed you staring. I let you borrow my polaroid and left my curtains open while changing, I gave you scrunchies despite seeing the hair tie on your wrist, and let me let you in on something here: A girl doesn’t leave her used panties in plain sight while having a boy over unless she wants him to see them, and I didn’t leave the room thinking you wouldn’t grab them. Eddie none of this has been a coincidence.”

Instead of feeling better, Eddie just felt worse at this revelation, dread filling him as he moved back from you, fear grasping him. “So then why did you do it?” he whispered. You were confused, you thought you made it pretty clear “what?” you wanted clarification. Eddie continued, voice rising in volume “why did you do it? Was this like an elaborate prank? You’re gonna tell the whole town now how Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson is also a sexual deviant? Is that it? Or maybe it’s not that maybe this was just funny to you? Was that it? Were you just stringing me along as a joke?” he had never felt more vulnerable in his life. 

His greatest fears laid out in his nightmare scenario while he was naked under the eyes of the girl he was in love with. You felt a hurt pang in your chest, Eddie had been the butt of so many jokes he can’t comprehend a situation where someone wants him. “Eddie, that’s not it at all. I- well I don’t really know how to say this but I like you. Like a lot” he whipped around to look at you “this isn’t funny.” you held his face “I'm not joking.” his face was smooshed in your hands and his big eyes were full of wonder “Eddie I like you so much I didn’t even consider the possibility of you not knowing or you thinking I don’t want you. Because I do. I want you so much it makes me crazy. I am so attracted to you it’s not even funny” Eddie was bewildered “wait, what?” you smiled “you’re so unbelievably sexy I don’t even know what to do with myself eddie” he shook his head “no, no way, there’s no way you like me” but despite his words the small smile on his face indicated a bit of hope, so you kept going “oh I'm crazy about you, you’re all I think about. However much you got off on the things I gave you, I got off like, twice as much at the thought of you using them” he laughed “I'm serious ed! I would think about every night when I touched myself, the idea of you in your bed getting off to me? I was a whining wreck in my bed before I could even get my pants off" Eddie whimpered at the thought “y’know I would pick them out too. Whenever you came by, the day before I would pick out a pair I thought you would like the most” Eddie swallowed hard “I- I did. Like them I mean. Um a lot, I uh like them a lot you did a uh good job picking them because I- yeah. I really really uh liked them all” he was flustered. It was adorable. 

You started moving towards him, slinking like a predator towards prey “I'm glad you liked them baby. I would think about you using them all the time. I would look at your hands when you talked – you're so expressive baby, always talking with you hands– and I would think about what your hands looked like holding my panties, or how your fist would look wrapped around your cock.” he whined high in his throat as you played with his hands “then I would look right at your lips while you were talking and I thought about what your face would look like as you came, or how swollen your lips would get, what you would sound like in bed. You wanna know what I thought about the most though baby?” he nodded quickly, you leaned in, lips brushing his ear “I thought a lot about what I would do if I had you cornered caught in the act with my panties. And what I would do to you with them.” you pulled back, elaborating “I'm sure you’ve done all the standard stuff, sniffing them, rubbing yourself on them, licking them, shoving them in your mouth, and that’s all well and hot but what I think is sexiest about you and my panties?” you leaned in close to him, lips brushing his, nervous to reveal your most lustful fantasy “the intended use.” you whisper against him. 

Eddie has no idea what the fuck that means. He can’t think he can barely breathe, he crushes your lips against his instead. It was desperate and sloppy and messy, with too much tongue and too much spit and too much everything but it was Eddie's first kiss. And it wasn’t enough. You straddled him, grabbing and pulling his hair, he moaned at the feeling “you like that baby? You like how I pull your hair and move you around for me? You’re real pretty when you go just where I put you” Eddie keened at the praise, back arching up as you pulled away from him grabbing the discarded underwear from earlier" I really like this pair baby, it’s real nice don't you think?” you said, holding them up against you, Eddie nodded quickly “uh-uh-huh! Real nice really -really pretty like em a lot” you smiled at how eager he was “I like em a lot too baby, they’re so pretty with the lace and the bows, I'm almost sad I won't get to wear them again.” Eddie was immediately confused. “wha-why not?” you smiled at him sweetly “because Eddie, you’re gonna stretch ‘em out too much for me to wear” he cocked his head at you.

You flicked the panties at his chest “you wanted them so bad. Wear them.”

part two out now!

[hairmetal666]

Eddie's a mechanic, has a shop in Indy. It's only got two bays, but he owns it, he saved up the money, it's his. He runs it with Wayne, is building up a customer base. He loves it.

Within the year, a bakery opens up next door, separated from Eddie's shop by a narrow alley. He has a perfect view into the bakery's kitchen from the shop's office, and almost immediately catches a glimpse of the drop-dead gorgeous guy behind the mixing bowl. He's got sun-golden skin, swoopy brown hair, wide puppy dog eyes, the poutiest mouth, and a face dotted with freckles. Eddie gapes at him for a solid two-minutes, salivating over the bunch and pull of his muscles as he kneads a ball of dough. A wet dream come true.

Eddie's always sneaking glances at the shop next door, can't seem to keep his gaze off the most beautiful man he's ever seen. Over the next few months, he becomes familiar with this herd of kids that hang around the bakery at all hours. There's one, curly-haired and mouthy, who often makes the baker frown with his hands on his hips, but as soon as the boy walks away, the baker smiles all wide and fond.

It's a silly crush, no big deal. He has a weakness for brown-eyed pretty boys, so what? It's not like he's going to do anything crazy, like make a move.

It's past midnight, a few months after the bakery opens, and Eddie's in his little office, doing the monthly accounting. He's exhausted, tired of calculators and numbers, when a flash of light catches at the corner of his eye. He blinks a few times, sure it's the exhaustion setting in, but it doesn't go away.

Instead, there's a light on over at the bakery. It's a kitchen light, and the baker is standing at the stainless steel counter, looking unlike Eddie's ever seen. His hair is a soft wave, swooping onto his forehead. He wears grey sweatpants and a yellow sweatshirt. Tonight, his movements are less precise and practiced; he's slow and contemplative as he gathers ingredients and mixing bowls.

It's been long enough Eddie should look away, but he forgets that it isn't a dream, that he's actually watching the baker roll up his sleeves as he whisks. It's inevitable that, eventually, the baker catches Eddie staring. He just smiles, though, and waves. Eddie manages to return the greeting before awareness smacks him in the face, and he flees the office and the building in acute embarrassment.

They share waves after that. Smiles. Laughter once when Eddie's reading over an invoice and walking, smacks face-first into the doorframe. Eye rolls after the baker gets into an impassioned argument with the curly-haired boy, one that involves a copious amount of thrown flour.

They exchange waves and smiles and goofy expressions, and it shouldn't escalate further, but one day Eddie steps into the shop's waiting room to find the curly-haired boy sitting behind the reception desk, flipping through Eddie's new dnd guide.

"What." Eddie says.

"You," says the boy. He's pointing and glaring and Eddie is a little scared.

"Me?"

"You like dnd?"

He hopes his sigh of relief isn't audible. "Best DM this town has ever seen." He postures and smirks.

"Doubt it," the boy says.

Eddie lets out an offended squeak, dramatically smashes his hand over his heart. "Insulted! Maligned! In my own place of business! Oh!" He falls into a dramatic swoon.

The boy snickers. "I'm Dustin," he says.

"Eddie." They shake hands and Eddie does not laugh at how overly serious this is all is. "Sir Dustin, what brings you to my fine establishment?"

Dustin shrugs. "Steve."

"Steve?"

Dustin rolls his eyes. "The bakery."

"Oh," Eddie says. Steve. The baker is Steve.

He's having a little trouble breathing, sure he's done something wrong, a distinct feeling of doom settling on his shoulders. "Why?"

"He won't stop talking about the mechanic next door but refuses to introduce himself. Plus, I saw your D20 tattoo the other day."

Eddie's barely hearing him, reeling over the knowledge that Steve talks about him to his gaggle of children. He barely hears the rest of the conversation, but the next day Dustin shows up with the rest of the kids, Lucas, Mike, Max, El, Erica, Will.

They're loud, chaotic, wild, and somehow--before they leave--they've coerced him into running a one-shot for them. They come by in twos and threes for the rest of the week, eating all the snacks in the waiting room mini-fridge and talking at him and Wayne as they work.

It's Friday, it's sweltering, he's closing the shop for the night with the top of his coveralls hanging off hips, his sweat soaked undershirt tossed behind a tool chest. He steps into the waiting area and nearly jumps out of his skin to find a man there, holding a plastic container.

Steve.

"H--hi," he stutters. And fuck, he's shirtless. He's standing in front of Steve for the first time and his nipples are out. This is it, the moment he finally dies of embarrassment.

Steve's eyes are locked on Eddie's torso for a few seconds too long, cheeks flushing. He blinks, finally looking at Eddie's face. "I'm Steve. From the--the bakery next door?" He points. "I--uh--I wanted to stop by and apologize?"

"What?" Eddie asks. There's too much happening for him to keep up.

"Um, the kids?"

And Eddie can't fathom why he needs to apologize, can only stare at Steve in confused disbelief.

"It's just. They can be kind of a handful. I used to babysit Mike and the whole group of them started following me around, and--Anyway, I think Dustin took it upon himself to try to introduce us. I've been wondering where they keep disappearing off to, and Max told me today that they're here with you, and I thought I probably owed you an apology. You're trying to work and I know they can be a bunch of shitheads, and oh my god, I'm rambling, I really am turning into Robin, Jesus Christ."

Eddie is fucked. Oh he's so fucked. He's charmed, endeared, can't stop smiling at Steve who is somehow even more beautiful up close.

"I forgive you," Eddie says. "They're nice kids."

Steve lets out a hard breath. "They are, huh?" He smiles. "Don't let them hear you say that. You'll never get a moment's peace. And they shouldn't have been over here bothering you, anyway."

"It wasn't a bother. Though, they did eat all my snacks and swindle me into running a one-shot for them. Still not sure how that happened."

Steve laughs and his eyes crinkle at the corner. So fucked. So fucked. "I should've known that you play that game of theirs."

"Aw, not a dnd fan, Stevie?"

Steve blushes. "It's--there's a lot of math."

Eddie laughs, already knows he's never getting over this one. "You bake professionally."

"It's different?" Steve laughs. "Fine, fine! You got me, it's not my thing."

"Bet I could change your mind," Eddie says. He doesn't mean to be flirting, can't stop himself.

"I bet you could," Steve agrees. He moves his hand, like maybe he's going to run it through his swoop of hair, then seems to remember he's holding baked goods. "Oh, uh, please take these cupcakes as my apology for accidentally saddling you with my group of semi-feral children."

"You're already forgiven, but I'll never say no to a cupcake."

"You should stop by the shop tomorrow, then" Steve says. "On the house."

"You've already given me these." He wiggles the cupcakes in Steve's pretty face.

"I only save the free samples for the hottest customers." Steve does run a hand through his hair now, and it's dorky as fuck, but Eddie still feels like he's died and this is heaven. "See you tomorrow?"

Eddie can only nod as Steve backs out of the office with a cheeky little wave.

He goes to the bakery the next day, sure he just let his crush get away from him and imagined the entire interaction with Steve. Except, when he walks in, Steve smiles all big and pretty in his little blue apron, invites Eddie back to the kitchen.

And if they share their first kiss against the stainless steel countertops, it's between them, Wayne, and all the kids who spy on them from the shop's office window.

[mintmatcha]

Continuation.

Bakugo Katsuki swore that he would die before he let you have Izuku's number.

And yet, somehow, the three of you have ended up together for drinks.

He thinks it's a fair compromise; Izuku can ask his million questions, Bakugo can kill the rumors that the two of you are together, you can-

He's not sure what your goal is, but he can see it shining in your eyes.

Izuku is still in his teaching clothes, a pristine button up rolled up to the elbows and a pressed pair of pants. There's an extra shine and coil to his curly hair, and it smells like sandalwood; he put effort into his appearance and Bakugo knows it isn't for him.

Your words echo in the back of his mind: people always want what they can't have.

"You worked for the commission? As a hero?" Izuku asks you.

You never give direct answers- just these convenient truths delivered with a pretty smile.

"I'm retired."

Lipstick clings to the rim of your drink. It makes your lips looks soft and round, even when you run your tongue across your teeth.

"Retired?" Izuku asks. "Wow, I'm kind of jealous."

"She's my social media manager." Bakugo cuts in. "And a tiktok person."

Not his girlfriend, he wants to add, but he refrains.

"Kacchan says you have a cool quirk." Izuku talks without pause, rambling mostly to himself in that way Katsuku has taught himself to find endearing. His attention never wanes away from you, but you don't blush or squirm. You sit and endure with that damn smile on your face. "What is it called? How does it work? I tried to Google it, but nothing comes up. You are so young to be retired, I just-"

You lean forward and place a hand on Izuku's upper thigh, cutting him off midsentence.

"You have very beautiful eyes," you say, slow, stepping gently over every word. "Wide, wet: like a rabbit's."

Izuku snaps silent. Each one of your nails taps against his thigh, one by one. Bakugo watches how your thumb swipes side to side, how your lips part with your exhale, how your smile creeps up all on its own as you lean even closer-

"You twitch like one too."

"Oh, wow, uh-" Izuku stutters, his whole face flushing a dark pink, so strong it eats his freckles. Finally, someone else understands your goddammit issues. Bakugo swallows down the strange feeling in his chest with the last dregs of his beer.

"I'm going to get a drink, I think." Izuku stands, pulling away from your touch.

"Grab me a beer?" Katsuki shakes his empty can. Izuku nods, then looks at you.

"Soda water with lime."

"No alcohol?"

"I like to keep my wits about me."

The man nods, then practically scurries off to the bar. You huff, content, like a dog that's bought it's master their hunt.

"You scared the fuck outta him."

"He liked it." You pick a piece of lint off of your skirt. "They always do. Watch: he'll come back and sit even closer to me."

Bakugo throws himself back into his seat, arms crossed. "You're so damn cocky."

"Look who's talking, Kacchan." You tilt your head, pouting your lips with fake sincerity. "I can call you that, right? As your girlfriend?"

He sinks even lower in his chair. "You aren't my girlfriend."

"I could be." You mimic him. You lean back and let your knees spread just a bit, just enough that he could see what under if he tried- "The sex would be phenomenal."

That hits him like a shot. It's not that he wants to have sex with you, but he can't deny that the thought crosses his mind every now and again. He thinks about it when he's alone, when the bed feels too big, when he's-

"You don't fucking know that!" He's too angry already, especially compared to your nonplussed response.

"I do.'

"You don't even fucking know me." He points a finger back at you. "And I don't know anything about you."

"It's better if you don't know."

Bakugo sneers. Another nonanswer. He looks back towards Izuku, who's locked in conversation with the bartender. Why would you even bother with him? Someone like you would rip through him like tissue paper. You're right- he is a rabbit, and you're a dog, waiting with your sharp teeth to-

A hand cups his ear. Bakugo watches as you lean in over the table, bringing your lips to his ear.

"I grew up in the commission. One of their little project kids," you whisper. Sometimes, your lips make contact with cartilage and his skin sparks with heat. "I did things for them. Bad things. Illegal things."

"You kill people?" he whispers back.

"You know the answer to that." With every word, you creep closer, until your hands are on his thighs now. "They forced me to retire when Hawks took over. No more need for girls with bloody hands."

It's the truth. Your voice is painfully sincere for once, a strange change from your usual composed self. You're just giving him what he wants, but it's working. It's working. He almost puts his hand around your waist.

If Izuku is a rabbit, he's a fox, and you've lured him out of his fucking burrow. At this point, he'd welcome your teeth in his neck.

"What else should I tell you? My favorite color's red, I love the beach. You're not allowed to pull my hair, I never sleep over after sex," you continue. "I have a scar on my chest. So, you're not surprised when you see it later."

"Stop assuming that I'm going to fuck you."

"Oh, you're going to." You slink back over to your seat. Hands folded over your lap- a snake ready to strike. "I'm going to flirt with Izuku until you break-"

You turn your attention away from him, waving towards the approaching Izuku. "And then you're gonna fuck my brains out, Kacchan."

There's no time to respond before Izuku teeters back, blaming three drinks with a little difficulty. He hands then out, then sits back down-

So close to you that his thigh brushes yours.

"Thank you, little rabbit," you tease, eyes flicking back to Bakugo with a knowing, smug smile.

Fuck, Bakugo thinks. Fuck.

[seventeenpins]

nightly

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader word count: 1k summary: Joel is a mistake you just keep making. content/warnings: no specified Joel era so take your pick, dirty talk, literally all just smut, big dick, daddy kink, breeding kink, dubcon undertones, Joel is an asshole a/n: I have been struggling to focus on writing for a minute now, but the horny gods smiled upon me and let me get this together. Praise be to @ozarkthedog for always letting me run my godforsaken ideas past you. Love you lots 💕

You can feel the wet spot on the bed against your back. Joel has you folded like a pretzel, backs of your knees resting on his sun-freckled shoulders, wrists pinned above your head and ass suspended in the air as he drills into you. A single curl bounces at his temple, separate from the rest of his hair that's plastered with sweat to his forehead.

If you make the same mistake five days in a row, can you really still call it a mistake?

He's far too old for you, and a little too mean for you, but damned if he isn't the best lay you've ever had.

Eight inches, uncut, a dick so fucking fat you can barely wrap your hand around it. You can hardly believe he's buried balls deep in you right now. That your body can even take it.

"C'mon, honey, that's it-" Joel's voice is a growl, punctuated by heavy panting, "This pretty lil gash is fuckin' droolin' baby, my own personal slip 'n slide-"

"You're a crass old man," you whine.

"I sure am, honey," he agrees with a grin, "But don't think I can't feel the way you soak me whenever I talk crass, sweetheart."

"I hate you."

He laughs, and a bead of sweat rolls down his temple and along the curve of his nose, splashing onto your cheek. Unthinkingly, you dart your tongue out to catch some of the sweat. Joel's grin turns to a smirk.

"Hate me all you like. You're the one who's come over every night this fuckin' week. Monday through Friday, baby. Hate me so much you can't get enough of daddy's big dick, huh?"

"Fuck you, you're such an asshole-"

This jab is even less effective, punctuated with a moan and a whimper.

"Sure, sweetheart, I am. But don't pretend like we don't both know--you don't have to come here at all."

He grinds against you, coarse hair rubbing against your mound as if to further his point. Pressure hits your clit just right and it's bliss. You have to fully restrain yourself to stop from howling, and even then, you let out a ragged moan.

Joel clamps a hand over your mouth and looks you dead in the eyes.

"I love those pretty sounds, baby, but remember I got neighbors? Thought you said you'd die before anyone finds out about us."

You try to roll your eyes, but he thrusts again and you're caught in another moan. The glide of his body against your clit, especially when he's stretching you out so exquisitely? It's overwhelming. You try to stay quiet, you really do.

It's not your fault though, not when Joel's fucking you silly.

Now, though, he's frustrated.

"Quiet now, settle-"

"I'm not a fucking dog, Joel, I- ahhh-" you mumble and moan between his fingers, barely muffled at all.

"Oh really? Not a fucking dog? Wanna tell me then why you're tryna get bred like a bitch in heat?"

He smacks your cheek, drawing out another pathetic whine that only seems to cement his point.

He sneers. "Those pretty lil noises you're makin' for me? That don't sound like a good girl. That sounds to me like a nasty fuckin' slut who can't help but keep her legs spread so her daddy can fill her up good. Huh? C'mon baby. Tell me to cum inside."

"Fuck you Joel."

Suddenly, cruelly, he stops. Ceases any movement. Relaxes the grip on your wrists.

Panic overtakes you.

"What the fuck-?"

"Sorry sweetheart," he shakes his head, "You don't want this? You can see yourself out."

"No, I-"

You notice he's still sheathed inside you. You feel him do something, flexing his dick inside of you. Frankly, it's cheating.

"Please don't stop."

"What was that, honey?"

"Joooeeel-"

"Quit your whinin', use your words."

"Please fuck me."

"That ain't it, you know whatcha gotta say."

He starts rocking his hips gently, a slippery glide. It's not enough to stimulate. Just enough to make you want more. Need more.

The way you clench around him tells on yourself more starkly than your words ever could.

He's grinning again. "That's it, baby. You ready to admit what you need?"

"Come on, Joel."

"Cum where?"

You sigh. But you know you aren't gonna hold out any longer. He's pressing his thumb just above your clit and the glide of the motion is so fucking delicious it's hard not to buck against it.

Rut against it.

A bitch in heat.

"Fuck me, daddy-" you whine.

"You sound real pretty beggin'. Nearly got it honey. One more try?"

"Cum inside me."

"Mmmmm-" Joel groans, and the grip on your wrists tightens again. "Music to my ears, honey. Tell me where you want it?"

"Inside me, cum inside-"

"You want me to cum inside this lovely lil' pussy?"

"Please Joel-"

"That right?"

"Please cum in me, fill me up, fuck it deep-"

With that, his composure breaks and any restraint he had crumbles. Folds you deeper, fucks you deeper, pins you down and jackhammers into you.

You couldn't move, even if you wanted to, and that knowledge somehow heightens everything. It's blindingly bright, dizzyingly addictive. You barely notice the way Joel's lavishing you with praise, each deep thrust punctuated with good girl, good girl, good fucking girl-

When you cum, you feel the way his balls tighten as if in response, tipping over the edge mere moments after you. It could be romantic, finding yourselves cumming together, if there was any romance between you.

As you start to fade back down, you're able to pay attention again.

"That's it," he's praising you, and you realise his cock is still pulsing. You make to start moving, but he growls and holds you still. "That's right, sweetheart. Gotta let me fill you all the way up. Gonna make sure it takes."

Clarity starts to overtake you and you know that you've made a big fucking mistake. By the time you've come back to yourself, though, your pussy's flooded and pulsing oh so nicely, and Joel's pulling out of you. He moves into the other room and you hear him turn on the shower.

"You can let yourself out," he calls to you. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Your panties are sticky the whole way home.

[felixknow]

Hannie's 🦪 fixation

Part two of Hannie's 🍒 fixation

Part three -- fake text edition

Han/f!reader, friends who...play...together, Hannie begging reader, reader very soft-spoken | ADULTS ONLY, MDNI, I don't want teenagers reading my NSFW posts

“What?!”

“Please?” he asks with those big, sweet eyes boring into yours. “God, I love pussy so much. I'll make you cum, I swear! I don't stop until my girl is satisfied!”

“But, I…”

“You don't have to do anything for me, I swear. I'll jerk it while eating your pussy and it'll be enough for me. Fuck, I'm so hard, Y/N,” he whines, grinding his crotch against yours.

You.

Are.

Throbbing.

But your brain is such a mess you can barely answer him beyond the soft whimpers that leave your mouth as he rocks against you. Here he is on top of you saying such filthy things like he's casually offering to scratch your back for you, and you can't get the knot in your throat to go down no matter how many times you swallow.

“Pleeeeeease?” he asks again, laying down and resting his chin on your chest. He fully pouts, giving you his best, sweetest puppy dog eyes. And it works.

“Yes,” you sigh out, nodding. “You can… do that.”

Han smirks, sitting up so he's hovering over your face.

“Say it,” he says with a mischievous grin. “Say what I’m gonna do.”

If your face wasn't already burning with a vicious blush, it'd surely get redder as you sheepishly say “Eat me out while jerking yourself off.”

He scrambles to throw your blankets to the side and wastes not a single second looking over your stomach as he moves lower, pulling your sleep shorts and underwear off in one harsh tug.

“Oh fuck yeah,” he sighs happily, once against nestling between your legs. He uses two fingers to hold your lips apart and goes in like a man starved, lapping at your cunt with his dripping wet tongue.

Holy shit, you think. Was he drooling for it or what?

Your hips buck up against his face instinctually when he flicks his tongue back and forth rapidly against your clit. He chuckles at your body's reaction and stops, going back to licking long, fat stripes up and down, gathering your taste and feeling as much of you as he can.

When he feels that you've adjusted to the feeling based on the fact that your hips aren't bucking anymore, he goes back to your clit and sucks it into his mouth for just a second, just to get that squeak and jump reaction from you that he knew he'd get.

“Oh, fuck-- Hannie--” you moan, trying to look down at him. He's already watching you. When he lifts his head just slightly as he squirms and gets his hand down into his pants, you can tell he's smiling.

“You taste so good,” he mumbles, burying his face once again. He slurps the mixture of your wetness and his spit and swallows it down greedily. One of his fingers starts lightly tracing around your hole as his tongue works lazy circles around your clit, giving extra pressure as he passes over its hood.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, reaching down to push his hair back from his face. “You're-- ahh-- you're really good at this.”

He hums in acknowledgement and flutters his eyes closed, losing himself completely in the swirl of his tongue and the flick of his hand working over his cock, which you can't see but you can start to hear the sounds of it as his fist gets damp from his pre-cum.

You play with his hair, lightly tugging and scratching his scalp as his pace increases, giving him non-verbal signals that he’s doing good. 

“Hannie, I can’t,” you moan, arching your back and trying to roll your hips up into his mouth. “I’m getting close.”

He suckles on your clit, ignoring when you push on his head and get louder and louder, insisting that you’re getting too sensitive. One of his fingers slips inside of you and he curls the tip of it, tapping rapidly against the inside of your pussy on the back of your clit, quickly sending you over the edge.

You pull his hair so tightly while moaning his name and grinding up against his tongue. You swear you hear him moan into your pussy between his tongue flicks and slurps.

He doesn’t stop his suckling until your hands fall from his hair, almost as if the pleasure has completely overcome you and made you give up on holding yourself up.

With a few more long licks to collect your taste, Han removes his mouth from your pussy. The entire bottom half of his face is damp and shiny with your slick, but the real star of the show is the hazy look in his eyes and the way his tongue lolls out of his mouth as he reaches his orgasm too.

He whines loudly-- whimpering, even-- while his hand furiously pumps in his sweats.

I wish I could see it, you think through your clouded sex-high. I bet it’s pretty like he is.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, chest rapidly rising and falling.

This is it. This is it.

“Y/Nnnnnn,” he whines, turning his face into your inner thigh. “Ahhhh, fuck! Y/N! Y/n, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n, Y/nnnnnnnn…”

“Holy shit,” you sigh out, watching as his hand stills and his whole body goes slack as he tries to catch his breath.

You’ll let him do whatever he wants to you if you get to hear him say your name like that again.

masterlist

Taglist:

@krayzieestay

@raptorbait529

@whosanaanyway

@3rachasdomesticbanana

@yaorzu-blog

[miupow]

──★ BAD DOG !

★ pairing。choi beomgyu x fem!reader genre。⧼ 📖 ⧽ smut , pwp warnings。minors do not interact! est. relationship , sub!beomgyu , pet play , furnature fucking , cumshot , breeding kink , oral (f. rec) , collar and leash , dirty talk , degredation and humiliation kink , praise kink , pet names , facials , squirting , creampie mentions , mommy kink , cum eating mention

★ synopsis。you can't help but please your puppy, even when he's being punished.

a/n ⸝⸝ rewritten work inspired by a thought written by @tigerhoshibby with her permission. i haven't written any sub!idol content in such a long while... excited to finally get back into the game. [ 1. 2k words ] ⸝⸝ [ m. list ]

beomgyu’s eyes brim with tears as he kneels on the floor between your legs, his shaking hands gripping tight onto your plush thighs. you looked down your nose at him, pouting and squirming beneath you as you lounged languidly on the couch, leather collar pulled tight around his neck and catching at his bobbing adam’s apple– another sharp tug of the leash wrapped in your hand makes him whine, unable to pull himself forward and meet you where he wants you the most. “dumb mutt can’t control his dick,” you spit with a sick grin, giggling at the way beomgyu’s breath hitches, “did you just cum from eating some pussy?”

pearly white strings of cum covered his belly and thighs, his cock flushed a deep shade of pink and still rutting mindlessly against the ruined couch cushion underneath him. your own arousal dripped from his lips and chin as beomgyu pants like a dog, slack jawed with his tongue out, those teary eyes blown wide and fixated on your wet pussy. he struggles against the pull of the leash, desperate to dive his head back in between your thighs, a pathetic whimper slipping from his swollen lips when his collar cuts off his breathing, choking him. you watch in sick delight as his cock twitches.

“now look at you getting hard again just from me being mean to you!” you jeer, “disgusting dog, fucking the furnature like some bitch in heat. i bet you want to cum again, don’t you?”

beomgyu’s desperate gaze snaps to yours and he nods his head vigorously, his hips bucking hard against the cushion. a thick bead of precum leaks from the tip of his cock.

“good boys use their words.”

“yes, yes, please–” he whines shakily, voice rough from disuse. “please, please can I cum?”

you pat his head tenderly, running your fingers through his long hair; he arches into your touch like he’s been starved of it, a pretty moan escaping from deep in his chest. a false sense of safety. “where do you want to cum, puppy?” you ask sweetly, the sudden switch in your tone sending beomgyu reeling. 

“i-inside, please, wanna give you my pups,” 

“dumb dog wants to breed like it’s instinct?” you glance at the creamy mess coating beomgyu’s tan skin, faking a sympathetic pout. “but you wasted all your cum, there’s not enough to fill me up…”

you both knew you were full of shit, beomgyu could cum over and over for hours– but in his current headspace he hung onto every word you spat at him, his cries growing louder and louder as your grip on his leash loosened. poor thing, already fucked stupid without even getting his dick wet; you finally drop your hold on him, letting him dive down and press his face against your cunt, his pleas for another release muffled by your swollen pussy lips. 

you sigh in pleasure as beomgyu’s tongue works at your engorged clit, his big brown eyes looking up at you from between your legs. “i’ll let you cum, beomie.” you hiss, reaching for a fistful of his hair to tug. “if you follow my orders.”

“anything, i’ll do anything,” beomgyu begs against your pussy, lapping at your juices as if he was drinking ambrosia.

“i want you to keep humping that cushion like the dog you are. go ahead and ruin it some more, and maybe i’ll forgive you for being such a bad dog.” your voice was far too gentle for your vulgar words, venom disguised as sweet honey. 

beomgyu shakes his head, his glassy tears threatening to overflow sending a sharp shock of arousal up your spine. “nuh uh, wanna cum in you–”

“sorry pup, I already told you there’s not enough.” you lie again. beomgyu presses himself further into your heat, crying out when his oversensitive cockhead brushes the rough fabric of the cushion. 

“i don’t wanna, mommy, please!” he warbles.

“i said no, baby. either cum on the cushion or not at all.” you scratch at his scalp gently, causing him to shiver– he can’t escape the growing need to obey, such an obedient pet even when he’s being bad. slowly and uncoordinated, he rocks his hips back and forth against the cushion, thrusting his tongue into your fluttering hole to cover up his pathetic sobs. his cock throbs an angry red, velvety skin pulsing obscenely as he falls into an unsteady rhythm. every thrust against the cushion makes him cry more and more, so good yet so painful all at once. the friction burns on the underside of his shaft, his weepy fat tip, your poor pet unable to hide his masochistic pleasure as he hiccups pitifully, whines and begs to be touched while he eats your pussy so deliciously. his tears finally fall down his flushed cheeks, and the sight of him so debauched is almost difficult to look at with the way it makes your cunt throb around his tongue. “good boy,” you praise in a whisper, tugging at his hair, watching how he digs his nails deep into the cushion to keep himself from touching without permission. “such a good pup.”

his hips pick up speed, erratic and rough against the cushion, a telltale sign that he was close. he pulls his face out from between your thighs just enough to clearly and properly beg; “please, mommy, i’m gonna cum, don’t wanna cum, let me fuck you, let me cum inside, please–”

you had half the mind to give in to his wishes– you knew he wouldn’t last a few seconds once he was inside of you, his cock swallowed by your warm gummy walls, immediately shooting what was left of his hot cum deep into your pussy… but he was just so cute when you didn't give him what he wanted

“no, mutt. Be a good boy and make a mess on the couch. better make me cum too.”

“mommy, no–” he sobs, reduced down to nothing but a dog doing tricks to impress it’s owner; yet he revels in it, the humiliation of it, and it just brings him closer and closer to spilling his seed everywhere. his cute pink cockhead pokes out with every one of his thrusts forward, leaking a steady stream of precum that does barely anything to aid in the slide. 

he doubles his efforts on your pussy, hot mouth sucking perfectly against your most sensitive spots as you rode his face, throwing your head back with a sharp cry when the ever-growing knot in your belly snaps and you squirt all over beomgyu’s crying face. your orgasm triggers his own, his moan just short of a scream as his tip starts spewing thick ropes of cum everywhere, across the cushion, the floor, and the front of the couch. some of it even lands on your legs, thighs shaking as you ride out your high on his button nose.

“bad dog!” you chastise gleefully once you’ve recovered enough to speak, beomgyu still shaking from the aftershocks as he nuzzles against your thigh. He glances up at you in confusion and surprise. “you made an even bigger mess than before. got your nasty cum everywhere… now lick it up.” 

[sweetteainthesummerx]

packing it up!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

nhl masterlist !

series masterlist!

pairings: popstar!reader x quinn hughes

warnings: fluff, suggestive content, i also changed one word in the lyrics to fit the fic better

summary: summer at the lake house, and quinn realizes how completely in love with you he is.

song: packing it up by gracie abrams

word count: 2.1 k

notes: ideas from this ask!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

quinn glances at you from the rented car, your hair blowing angelically around your face. he thinks you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, even as you grimace and unstick your locks from your lipgloss.

his hand is heavy and warm on your thigh, your much smaller hand tucked over it.

he's both nervous and excited: you're the first girl he's ever brought to the lake house, the only one he's ever loved like this.

when quinn and you finally pull up to the lake house, luke and jack run out to greet you guys.

they offer hugs and brotherly kisses on the cheek to you, jack's girlfriend following close behind, the two of you reuniting with a squeal, chattering about some reality tv show.

his parents are at the door, hugging their oldest and his mom pulls you into a tight embrace too. jim tucks you under his arm, wanting to show you his new grill.

ellen and jim, who along with the rest of his brothers, met you at the hughes bowl game. technically, his mom had met you over facetime a week after you'd made it official.

at first, he could tell that she'd been a little wary of your public status and insane amount of fame but after getting to know you and seeing how much you cared for her son, she'd accepted you into the family with open arms. his dad liked you from the beginning, because you made chocolate chip cookies and looked at quinn like he hung the moon.

that night is busy and full of chatter, months worth of catching up finally done. you head up to shower and bed first, and jim slaps quinn's back as he gets up from where he was playing video games with his brothers for a drink of water.

"she's good for you son. don't let her get away," he grins, and quinn laughs, shaking his head.

"i don't plan to, dad. don't worry."

nearly an hour later when he drags his heavy feet up to his room and opens his door, he sees you and is suddenly wide awake.

you're on his bed, wearing a set of pink cotton pajamas, the thin and sparse material almost as soft as your skin under the warm over head light. you glow, you're prescence temptingly familiar.

he leans on the frame of the door just to watch you in your element.

your pretty, smooth legs are crossed, propping up your guitar as you softly pick at the strings with quick-practiced fingers and hum under your breath.

the first ever time he'd listened to you sing he'd realized that you were probably a genius. he'd never really been into music all that much as a kid, but he vaguely remembered you on the television at his friend's house and seeing posters of you everywhere.

at such a young age, you'd been famous, making millions of dollars and working with huge brands; yet here you are, hair still a little damp and looking like one of his teenage wet-dreams.

oh, if only 16-year-old quinn hughes could see this. actually, he'd probably be yelling at himself to join you on the bed.

"hey, baby." he murmurs, and you look up, smiling with tired eyes.

you let him set your guitar carefully into it's case, and he offers you soft kisses that make you giggle and squirm before he goes to the bathroom to wash up.

you're under the covers when he returns, and he crowds into you, shoving his face into your neck and breathing the familiar smell you your skin and bodywash.

he pushes his head into your chin as you laugh, soft voice saying something about acting like a dog, but he doesn't care.

he wants to merge into one with you, as weird as it sounds. being close to you physically is almost not enough. he feels like he can't breathe and that you're fresh air all at the same time, affection for you clogging thick in his throat.

you rub his scalp and his temples and his bones melt, his weight flattening you to the mattress.

he knows he's too heavy, but he can't bear the thought of moving even an inch from you, so his hands finds the curve of your waist, lifting you easily so you're chest to chest, your body like a weighted blanket on him.

"goodnight, quinny," you press a kiss into the little space in between his clavicles, the little dip pale under the stream of moonlight through the crack of the curtains.

he returns the favour to your guitar-calloused fingertips, and the two of you breathe in tandem as sleep finds you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

the next afternoon, after a big breakfast and a lazy morning, all of you usher out to the boat, eager to catch any droplet of that good, good michigan sunshine. ellen sends you all off with a cooler of drinks and sandwiches.

after quinn sets down the cooler and the other boys are figuring out the logistics of the boat, he tucks his big hands under your armpits and lifts you onto the wobbling vessel easily.

you kiss his cheek in thanks, and once everyone is settled down, jack's girlfriend whips out a humongous bottle of sunscreen and begins to slather her boyfriend down.

quinn sighs as you fill your hands with the sun cream, and turns grudgingly, back muscles shifting under pale skin.

he hisses as the cold liquid, his fingers coming to smack at the side of your thigh playfully when you laugh.

he helps you apply it too; you push at his head when his hands wander and you flush a sunburnt pink.

through out the day, as jack, luke and quinn take turns driving and wakeboarding, you tanned with jack's girl, planting yourself on your boyfriend's lap whilst he drove and tucked yourself on the seat with your book.

as the sun was setting and the boys were still insisting on wakeboarding, the music from the speakers was blasting music (once in a while, one of your songs would come on, and the whole boat would cheer, much to your embarrassment) as you nestled into your seat between quinn's legs, your back pressed up to his bare chest.

it was chilly on the water, quinn's hoodie and body heat around you your only source of warmth.

luke complains about all of the pda as the four of you laugh at his whining, and quinn rubs your goosebump-littered thighs.

you sigh happily, utterly exhausted but so, so content.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

quinn watches from his seat on the couch as you and his mother, the two most important women in his life, laugh together while cooking dinner.

ellen tells you something, and you giggle, glancing at him. he realizes he's grinning unconciously.

honestly, his mom is probably roasting him or telling an embarrassing story, but he doesn't mind. it's oddly domestic seeing you with his family, and he's delighted how well you fit in.

later that night, as the you settle in for bed, he asks what you were talking about with his mom.

your eyes glitter with adoration as you cup his jaw. he leans into your touch, his own hand resting over yours.

"you," you tell him so earnestly, and his heart fills with so much love.

three words rest on his tongue, but you yawn sleepily, tucking yourself into his side.

he lays awake for a few moments, the words heavy like a treasure box full of gold, ready to burst at any moment.

he is so, so in love with you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

three months later, when the air in vancouver is bordering on brisk, and when he finds you wearing his sweaters more often than not, you sit him down after dinner, passing him your laptop.

"i have something for you," you tell him nervously. he doesn't like seeing you unsettled, so he sweeps his thumb over your cheek until you relax.

he presses play on the video, and an acoustic guitar starts playing.

your angelic voice joins in, and he automatically bites back a smile.

i hope that you get everything you could ask for the cold side of your pillow, a real break for once good peppermint tea with cool wind on the drive home with no traffic for miles, for spring to come

the video fades into what he thinks are snippets of your first few months together immortalized on your camcorder: him ordering your coffee, walking in stanley park in the early march, him tying your skates on your third date, him driving, relaxed with the windows down on the way to the lake house.

i swear that i wasn't looking for much but that's just when you happened that's right when you happened got so damn close to packing it up but that's just when you happened and then you happened then you happened

it hits him at the chorus: this song is about him. you wrote a love song about him. he looks at you, and you're a little pink, still fidgeting. he hopes that his awe-struck expression is enough for now, because he has no words.

now i'm red in the face, and shy all of a sudden you move, i move, it's something, you fit perfectly and replace every game, you push none of my buttons and hold me through the morning, kinda new for me

the next clip streams seamlessly onto the screen. it's taken shakily through a screen door, the two of your figures swaying in a slow dance on the porch, the sun rising on the docks in the distance.

he relishes in how good the two of you look together, how right.

as the chorus plays, you tell him, "i think your mom took that,"

and he laughs voice broken with emotion, because of course his mom could tell how absolutely devoted he was to you.

i hope that you get my dark sense of humor sunsets in the summer with your family don't stop talking to me, maybe stay here forever we could die here together, I'd do it happily

around the campfire, the grainy-filtered camera pans to each member of his family, everyone laughing and chattering as they roasted marshmallows. the sun was a pretty orange against the purple-pink backdrop of the sky.

i'll hold you, i'll know you i'll never leave out the back door and i'd love to complete you hope you get all you could ask for

he watches with teary eyes a video of the two of you on the boat, in your own world. you're wrapped up in his hoodie and his arms as he rests his cheek on your head. he says something to you, and you throw your head back laughing, leaning back onto his shoulder.

'cause i swear that i wasn't looking for much but that's just when you happened that's right when you happened got so damn close to packing it up but that's right when you happened mm, then you happened

the last clip is of him, wearing a thin shirt and shorts, back to the camera. he's standing on the docks, hand reaching behind him to you.

your hand, he recognizes, slips into his perfectly and he turns, a devastatingly smitten look on his face as he looks to you.

when the music ends, he's pouting a little to keep from crying.

normally he doesn't get emotional easily, but you make it so easy for him to be vulnerable.

you smile, a little wobbly but gorgeous as ever as he tugs you onto his lap, burying his face into your neck.

he's sure you can feel his teary eyes and warm cheeks, but he doesn't mind.

"thank you, thank you," he mutters into your skin, clearing his throat when his voice cracks, "no one has ever done...anything like that for me before."

"you like it?" you ask, delighted.

"i love it, sweetheart," he tells you, kissing every inch of you he can.

those three words are back on his tongue, and if he's honest, they never left.

"i love you." he tells you steadily, his voice gravelly from the sheer force of his feelings.

you gasp a little, and he shakes his head: how could you ever doubt that he loves you with his entire being?

between tear-wet kisses and sweet, feather-soft caresses, you tell him you love him too.

he's never been too good with words, at expressing how he feels, but for you?

he'd tell you he loves you every single day.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

[frogchiro]

I've been doing some thinking and how about very horny and very pathetic Leon?♡

tw: unsolicited dick pic from Leon but the reader doesn't mind it all that much

I imagine a college setting so look wise I'm thinking RE2/RE4. Maybe he's a bit older than you and you vaguely know him from the campus to be 'the popular kid' along with his group of friends; Krauser, Luis and Chris. You don't really know them personally but from what you've heard they're...Well, they are a bunch of assholes. Basically the typical dumb college jock/fratbro type, the one you always stay far away from with a sneer on your lips. Some may call you a prude but c'mon! You have better things to do than let some sleazy jock pant and drool all over you at some greasy frat party!

What you don't know though is that Leon, the most popular of them, has the most pathetic, soul crushing crush on you! Well, maybe you do kinda know considering he seems to always seek your gaze out in the corridors, tries to talk to you on campus even though you're clearly busy with your friends and once or twice he even tried to corner you in your favorite little coffee shop not far from your uni with the most pathetic look on his face that reminded you of a wet cat. But maybe you didn't understand just how deep his love for you was...

Through the grapevine you've heard about some 'grand party' that was held at Luis's frathouse, some girls giggling about how they can't wait and how they hope that either Chris or Jack will get drunk enough to take off their shirts again. You listened politely but tuned them out for the majority of it; the only thing occupying your thoughts this fine autumn Friday, was your comfy bed in your dorm, a nest of blankets and pillows, some snacks and your favorite series or a book, the picture perfect way to spend your time and unwind. The girls whined and bemoaned your lack of presence at the party but you just gently shut them down, promising that you'll just attend the next one (the same excuse you've used the last numerous times but shh).

Of course as you were packing up your books and leaving the uni library you saw the Asshole Ensemble causing ruckus outside and out of the corner of your eye you saw Krauser shouldering Leon and motioning towards you at which the blonde perked up like a dog at the sight of a rabbit.

'If he had dog ears they'd be all pointy and perked', you thought to yourself and hurried your steps a little when you noticed he wanted to walk towards you. It was already afternoon and the sooner you get to your room and begin your little self care evening the better, no need for the bumbling fool to take even more of your free time...

...Well that's what you thought would happen.

Imagine laying in your bed, fairy lights on, your favorite candles lit, a good book in your hand and being ready to immerse yourself in it until you hear the little shrill 'ping!' from your phone. A message.

You groaned slightly, rolling your eyes at who is bothering you this late and imagine your surprise when you saw that the notification came from Leon and it was a photo.

This caused your eyebrows to shoot up to your hairline, because a photo from Leon of all people was the very last thing you expected and the actual content of it caused a gasp to leave your lips and a furious blush on your face as you looked at a honest to God fucking dickpick.

A dickpick from Leon Fucking Kennedy and the longer you stared, the more you flushed and felt a weird feeling in your chest arise. The photo itself was...bad. it was slightly blurry as if taken in a rush but you could make out vague details. It appeared as if Leon was laying down on some bed or couch, the room dark enough but his cock illuminated by the flash of the phone.

The cock itself was...not bad? Despite the poor quality of the photo it was obvious that it was took in an attempt to show it off; it was large and hefty, the tip flushed heavily and precum was dripping from it like a damn faucet, the hand holding the cock was even more blurred as if it shook while taking the photo. It even showed a bit of Leon's happy trail and a part of his belly, it looked surprisingly softer than you'd imagine, with a bit of pudge to it, you noted in your stunned state.

After staring at the picture in a wide eyed daze, you realized that you never responded, but how the hell would you even respond to this?? Before you could formulate a plan you noticed how the speech bubble bobbed lightly.

'Oh fuck, Leon is typing'

However, the content of the message made the entire bizarre situation somehow even more bizarre.

"(Y/N) please...why didn't you text me back :(( I send you a dick pic pls respond" followed shortly by:

"Pls send me a pic of ur pussy, I made my dick all hard just for you heh you are always playing hard to get luv that about yoy"

You couldn't help but let out a quiet, embarassed whine...God he was so pathetic :(

[murdrdocs]

INTERVIEW 026. CARMEN BERZATTO murdrtober oct 19th. dry humping

You could've kept screaming and yelling at Carmy, but grinding your bare cunt over his clothed cock was way more impactful. 955+ words MDNI 18+

There's no point in pretending you're shocked, or even upset, about the circumstances you're in. You've grown to expect it, kicking your shoes off at the door, pushing and pulling until you fall onto a surface, whatever surface.

It's all so familiar, and not because you've done this dance many times before. It's familiar because this used to be your life. Leaving work with giddy jumping around in your belly, telling you what will be coming next.

Gone are the flirty texts. Your digital conversations with Carmen are kept short and sweet, always cut and dry and about things that aren't concerning how bad you want him.

Because you'll never say it, from your mouth or your thumbs, but he can always feel it between your thighs.

You're only in this apartment when you need something you can't get from someone else. And if you're not going to get what you want, there's no reason for you to stay here. So when your lighthearted conversation with Carmy goes from horny to thorny, you grab your purse and begin to search for your other shoe.

Carmy stops talking to a brick wall. "What're you doing?"

"What am I doing? What does it look like I'm doing, Carmen? I'm leaving."

"Leaving? Leavin'? Why would you be leaving?"

"Because you would rather be a little bitch than get your dick wet so I don't see a point in me staying here."

You really did intend to leave.

You've always known there was no point in arguing with Carmy. You would usually just go round and round in circles, never really reaching a conclusion that was favorable for the both of you. And you've seen where the times that you did argue with him got you—paying your own rent instead of splitting it is where it's got you. So if you're not here to only tell Carmy to give you more and that you're about to come, you're leaving.

This was your goal. But you've really been a little stupid lately because somehow, you end up sitting on Carmy on the couch and not sitting in your car yelling about his behavior in a voice note to your group chat.

But this is nearly as cathartic in its own, sick way.

“So what?" Carmy starts up again, "Is this some sorta …” He hisses and you think he’s given up, but he licks his lips, and tries again. “Is this some sorta punishment?"

His face scrunches in that way that he does when he’s confused, that plaster of his condescending tone there as well.

You guffaw and sure, it's a bit mean, but that's really your intention at this point. “Punishment? I don’t think you’re a child or a dog, Carmy.”

He scoffs. “Really? 'Cause you treat me like one.”

And you could continue to go back and forth. You could reach deep and throw mean jabs at him like the two of you hate each other. It’s an easy routine to fall into. But you don’t give in, because you have him like this—sitting beneath you in nothing but his boxers, his spread legs behaving as your throne as you slowly glide your bare cunt back and forth over his bulge.

You grin down at him. You’re in control, you don’t need your words to prove that too. But verbally is the only way Carmy can fight for control.

He doesn't rest. Physically, his body is as tight as you've ever seen it. His muscles bulge as he holds onto your waist with a grip that would stop your movements if you weren't so headstrong. His abdomen is tight, there's sweat gathered in the notch at the center of his neck. His curls have begun to get damp too, mostly around his hairline. And he just won't stop talking, going on and on about how this doesn't mean you've won.

For a usually quiet and shy guy, he's very verbal tonight.

You continue to ignore him, only speeding up the way you grind by just enough to make a difference. You let your head loll to the side as you make a show of it, really making sure Carmy knows how much you're enjoying yourself.

"Relax, Carmen," you tell him, biting your lip and sliding your hand over your bare chest to pinch your nipples.

"Don't ... don't call me that. 's weird when you call me 'Carmen'."

That's the point, you want to tell him. But you decide to pity him just enough.

"Just enjoy the show, honey, alright?"

Carmy's muttering under his breath, some swears followed by disbelief that this would be considered some form of a show and not a special form of torture. But for the most part he does as you say.

He only asks to feel you, like really feel you, one more time, and when you shake your head with faux-sweetness in your eyes, he acquiesces. You see it happen in his body, his muscles relaxing as he sinks back into the couch. His grip on your waist loosens enough to give you more control than you had before, and you use it to make the rest of the ride both of your whiles.

Your tits jiggle as you push back and forth. You moan, loud and breathy, and you can't help but abashedly smile when you look down and see how much of an impact you've made on the color of Carmy's briefs.

This seems to bring out the Carmy you're used to. He hisses, but it's a sound of astonishment instead of pain this time. "Look at that," he marvels just loud enough for your attentive ears to pick up.

You agree, nodding as you plant your hands on Carmy's chest for better purchase. "Look at that."

[codnasties]

kinktober ₊˚ · ♡ ·˚₊ soap & gaz ₊˚ · ♡ ·˚₊ roommates

soap and gaz decided to move in together, trying to escape possible loneliness and having someone to share day to day activities. but the soap got himself a pretty thing, those habits changed a bit - as in soap being a horny dog and needing to fuck you as much as he can -. and even though gaz already knew that johnny was an exhibitionist and that he loves being heard and watched - that shit get him horny, plagues his fantasies and it happening straight up makes him cum harder -, kyle believed that soap had some decency and would respect their shared space.

but no. there is no way soap is not being loud, slapping sounds and your and his moans filling the room. and the biggest affected by that is his brit roommate, that has to hear you getting fucked everyday, since the both of you are loud enough to seep onto the hallway and pierce through the walls.

now the thing is, johnny knows his mate is going to be forcibly listening, that he's going to hear the plaping, the wet noises your middle makes, the moans and the whole ordeal. kyle is going to be getting off to that, roughly fitting his rock hard cock because how can you expect a lonley young blooded man to not do that?

so soap's exhibitionist ass starts taking things further trying to help his fellow soldier, engaging in sexual acts in common areas such as the living room. sitting fully naked on the sofa, soap getting you to give him a handjob. all of that to show gaz the view of his hard cock and your beautiful naked breasts.

but - sadly for soap and somehow for gaz - kyle didn't catch the two of you, so the scot had to keep trying. he had to scalate things, so he fucks you on said sofa, having you sitting on his lap and plunging up into the pussy that's milking him and making a mess on his abs. and then kyle just makes an appearance, catching the two of you just going at it like fucking dogs in heat. garrick is way too much of a gentleman, so he averts his gaze and runs out of the room - while mactavish just cums in you, because getting walked on is just so hot in his mind. now kyle has the image of your tits and bouncing ass engraved in his mind.

that was the last straw for him. his seemingly infinite patience ends up running out. he can't handle anymore being on the receiving end of johnny's exhibitionist antics, having to witness you being fucked, hearing your noises. trust me when i tell you, he doesn't hate that, no, he hates that he's just an spectator, not being able to get any.

he decides to pay soap back for all those times he was a mere spectator. by fucking you while the scots goes to run some errands. kyle times that shit perfectly so that clueless johnny opens the door to their shared house and hears your loud noises. garrick has learnt over time that curiosity tends to get the best of him, and that his mate is definitely going to be checking what's going on. only to open the door and walk in on you, on top of gaz and grabbing onto the headboard to balance yourself, beceuse of his dick fucking up harshly into you, loving the feeling of your tight pussy trapping him in and the view of your tits jumping jn front of his face. he now understands why soap has to have you at least once a day.

little did kyle know, that this shit was all plated, both you and soap wanted to add him onto your little games and specially have him snap and see that hidden side full of sexual desperation: for him to plunge his tick cock into your sweet pussy with no restrains, getting a taste of what he's been somehow experiencing but never fully getting a full taste to satiate that craving.

and johnny loves it, because the second he processes what's going on in front of him, he's peeling off his clothes as if they have been bothering him. picking you up from kyle's lap, carrying your full weight on his strong arms and lowering your cunt onto his now fully hard cock, letting gaz have a taste of your delicious ass. because he actually is s good roommate and wants him to have the full experience.

[chaepink]

Requesting Sukuna getting off from being stepped on by mean!gn!reader 🥺

King of Curses? ha! | sub!sukuna ryomen

wc: 1.1k+ words | masterlist

dom!gn!reader, mean!reader, dick & ball stepping, degradation, hair pulling, mention of slapping, porn with no plot, footjob(?), ooc sukuna

note : this was going to be a drabble but i loved this idea sm

If you were told that you would have the King of Curses on his knees in front of you as you step on his dick, you would've laughed and think it was crazy. If anything, you would think that whoever told you was out of their mind. But when the very exact scenario is unfolding right this moment, you can't help but be glad it's happening.

You sneer at the man kneeling underneath you. Pushing your shoe harder against the bulge in his underwear, you watch as sukuna groans, his hands going to grab your leg but you swat them away.

"Don't touch me you fucking whore. I can't believe you're actually enjoying me stepping on you. Its fucking pathetic, really."

A small moan leaves him at your degrade and as you press your heels against where his balls are, sukuna's eyes roll to the back of his head and he lets out a groan. You grimace when you see pre cum seep through the fabric and onto your shoe. Great, now your shoe is ruined.

"Dont you dare cum without permission, sukuna." His breaths are labored as he stares up at you with hazy eyes and a red face. His clenched fists lay on his thighs, knowing that if he disobeyed your rules, you'll leave him right then and there for him to jack off by himself.

His bratty and cocky demeanor is long gone after only just some degradation and face slapping. A red hand print lays still visible on his cheek, the stinging reminding Sukuna of just exactly will happen if he's bratty. Now he's reduced to nothing short of a stupid dog, eager for any sort of pleasure.

With only his underwear left on him, Sukuna feels exposed to you, especially when you're fully clothed. The way there's already a wet stain on his underwear only adds to the shame he feels. Even if he tried to hide it, the bulge he has is painfully obvious to you. There's a cold breeze in the air and sukuna tries to hold back a shiver.

Mere moments before, all that was running through his head is how about how he, the God of Curses for fucks sake, was kneeling down to you, a mere human. You looking down on him is demeaning enough towards his pride and ego. Though he's not sure how he got into this position in the first place or how you even found him, it seems like the pleasure got to him and he feels too good to even care. After all, its been a while since someone has treated him like this and given him pleasure. The foreign feeling has his usual demeanor slipping away.

"And people think that the God of Curses would be the one in control in situations like these." You laugh, making sukuna flush an even deeper red. "Yet look at you here, kneeling in front of me, dick already hard and leaking as just from me stepping on you. You're enjoying this way more than I thought too. What a dirty mutt you are." You coo, grinning at him as he swallows at the dark look in your eyes.

"How about you thank me, hm? Since i'm being so nice to you for helping you get off." You raise a eyebrow at him, daring him to even question your order.

Instead, he stays silent and slowly leans against your thigh, rubbing his cheek against it. It seems like sukuna is too out of it to have heard what you said, only letting out a small whine at the close contact and the warmth of your body.

You quickly make him snap out of it by grabbing a fistful of his hair and forcefully yanking it back, pulling sukuna off your thigh and to stand on his knees. His face scrunches up in pain as his eyes shut, a pained whimper leaving him. His dick subconsciously twitches at the stinging, prickling sensation that's left on his scalp from your pull.

"Did you not hear me properly? I'll say it one more time for you, sukuna." You grind your shoe down on his dick and lean down until your face is right in front of his. Sukuna lets out breathy huffs. You narrow your eyes at him as he slowly opens his own, blinking slowly up at you with glassy eyes.

Fuck, the way you're glaring at him so intensely like that and how you're just so mean to him makes his orgasm approach faster than he thought. He would've never thought that he would be into this but the way his dick throbs every time you do something would prove him wrong if he said he didn't.

"Say 'thank you [name] for stepping on my dick.' You better say it like you mean it too or i'm leaving you here to fuck your own fist."

Sukuna quickly widens his eyes. No! You can't do that. You won't leave him to pathetically masturbate by himself, right? Though when he gazes into your eyes, he finds no sign that you're joking. Instead, you only narrow your eyes at him, your patience quickly thinning.

His pride and ego is on the line, of course he's not going to thank you for stepping on his dick! He never asked for this anyways. Thats what the thoughts in the back of his head is telling him to say but when he opens his mouth, the total opposite leaves instead.

"t-thank you [name for stepping on my dick." Sukuna swallows when you stay silent, deciding whether or not it was good enough.

Suddenly a grin appears on your face and he gets shoved onto the ground, making his hard dick slide out of his underwear and out for you to see. Your foot immediately goes back to step on his dick, making Sukuna let out a embarrassing loud moan, his back slightly arching off the ground.

Before you could degrade him again, you're surprised when cum suddenly shoots out of his dick and onto his chest. Some even makes it on his face, making the entire sight even more erotic. Sukuna lets out a whimper-like cry at the sudden feeling of his long awaited orgasm. But he soon realizes what he's done.

It seems like even he's surprised as he widens his eyes at you, not having expected to cum that quick. Disbelief is shown on your face and you furrow your eyebrows. Whether or not it was a accident, he came without your permission. And the thought of it makes him shiver at what you're going to do to him.

"are you really that pathetic that you came that quickly from me just stepping on you? and i thought you were supposed to be strong. turns out you're just a dirty whore that likes to be stepped on."

You lean forward, putting your weight onto your foot and effectively making him let out a choked groan at the overstimulation. The rough texture of the bottom of your shoe grinding against his dick quickly has it hardening embarrassingly quick. The look of disgust is on your face but a glimmer of something entirely else too, maybe its lust.

“i hope your ready, baby.” Your foot trails down his dick and press on his balls as you grin at him. “cause i've barely even started.”

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

[octopiys]

Lost and Found

I. roll call and rainy nights

Next

Maybe Simon doesn't have any kids. Not yet at least. Maybe he doesn't know anyone we'll enough, or maybe he's not sure if he wants them in the first place.

But I'll tell you what.

Every time he goes on leave, without fail, he has an army of critters showing up to his house in the country. He never turns anything out to the streets, or to the cold night. The bottom of his pantry is stock full of dog and cat food. He's got three bird feeders in his back yard. There's four refillable water bowls by his garage.

The raccoons show up first without fail. They're named One and Deux, and they just recently had a baby named Tres. Hes pretty sure they live on his roof. He checked his cameras one night, after a long mission, and found them holding up Tres to the camera.

He didn't cry about that, what are you talking about?

Then the dogs show up. They're all mutts of varying sizes. One looks like some sort of lab, named Dog. Another is about the size of a pomeranian, but looks like a shaggy chihuahua. That's Barrow. He found her in his garden shed. She's got a mean bite, but a sweet face. The third is a big dog, almost the size of a Dane, but... not. He's not very smart. He's named barkmulch. Get it, cus- cus he barks- the fourth has gone unnamed. It's a furry little white thing, and it yaps at him a lot, nipping at his ankles anytime he enters the room. Behave, and it'll get a name.

There are a few cats that show up too. None of them have names except for one: Scraggle.

Scraggle is the ugliest fucking thing you can imagine. Scraggle is that shade of grey that white cats get when they're dirty, except you can't wash it off. The poor cat is missing patches of fur, and it seems permanent. It only has one eye. It's nose is flat, and gives it's face the illusion of a squished tomato. There's a scar going from it's whiskers, across it's nose and up to it's missing eye. Simon doesn't actually know what gender this cat is. It is only Scraggle.

Scraggle is also... very stupid, as far as cats go. It gets squished between the couch cushions, and yowls when Simon accidentally sits on him. How could he have seen him anyways? Scraggle screams when his food bowl is empty. Scraggle screams when everyone else's food bowls are empty. Scraggle screams when it manages to find it's way on top of the kitchen cabinets, and needs Simon's help to get down. Scraggle is a full time job when he's off duty.

Scraggle is his favorite.

He finds you in the rain.

Not nearly as run down as the rest of his animals, but just as lost.

Covered in scratches, blood, and muck, he finds you on the edge of his property, being screamed at by Scraggle, because it doesn't do much else.

Your clothes are torn, and you look a bit more haggard than you should. Wet, and cold, and hungry. Like you had missed a turn off the trails, or you were running away from them. From something.

You look up at him with wide eyes, but decide to trust him, to follow him like a lost creature, because he could not be worse than what you escaped from.

He makes soup. He gives you soup.

He's not the best conversationalist. He's not used to things he finds actually talking back to him in a language he can understand.

You tell him your name. He calls you Honey. You'll earn your name. Behave, you'll get it.

Scraggle is on thin ice with you. Attention stealer. Food giver. You get the cat down from places it shouldn't be. But Simon pays more attention to you than he does Scraggle. You fool. Scraggle is all. Scraggle is life.

You don't leave, much like the other things he feeds. You make yourself useful, because you're afraid of being turned out. If you're useful, then nothing will happen. And you go to bed every night warm with a full belly.

You're just another lost thing he's taken in. You don't leave when he disappears. You know he'll come back. He always does.

And he watches the cameras, while he's on a mission. He watches you diligently fill the bowls, the bird feeders, the waters, the bath. You trot out to the fish pond, and throw handfuls of feed out in the early hours of the night. Then you make your way back through the tall grass, and into the house.

Scraggle screams. You feed it too, and then pick it up. And carry it around like it's a little baby.

Hm. Maybe....

You were a sweet like honey, a pretty little thing. You weren't lost anymore. He'd found you, you're his now.

He'll take care of you.

Scraggle agrees. Scraggle likes you too.

masterlist

[blkkizzat]

ღ 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞!𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 ღ

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟐

18+ONLY MDNI

kizzatober series: Smooth Criminals

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

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

Enjoy!

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

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

Shluk! Shluk! Shluk!

Metal slashed through flesh with razor precision.

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

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

Choso breathed in deeply. 

A wave of calm washed over him. 

Peace. 

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

It was beautiful. 

Blood was beautiful.

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

Like a painting. 

A death painting… and the knife, his paintbrush. 

This was his art.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Choso was meticulous in his process. 

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

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

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

Almost midnight. 

Ten more minutes before campus security makes another round.

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

☠

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ladies–” 

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

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

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

Your pledges huff quietly, but agree. 

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

“Choso!”

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

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

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

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

If anything you thought his reactions were kinda cute.

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

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

You looked sexy as hell utterly ridiculous.

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

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

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

“Duh Choso–” 

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

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

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

Of course he knew about the party. 

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

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

He couldn’t tell you that though obviously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Choso swallowed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But I’m not alone silly!” 

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

They looked absolutely miserable. 

“I have my pledges!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Really don’t. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your pledges erupted with various replies from– 

‘Thank God!’’ 

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

‘Was that your boyfriend, Y/N?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Also you did have a boyfriend. 

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

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

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

☠

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

Twice. 

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

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

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

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

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

You would make a beautiful death painting too.

Choso imagines thick red blood splattered across your curves. 

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

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

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

Fuck. 

He was hard again. 

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

God, he was pathetic.

☠

The school week that followed was relatively uneventful. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Surely you had the wrong classroom.

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

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

He looked at it and back at you twice.

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

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

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

You didn’t look like you would last.

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

You proved him wrong though. 

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

You were also a hard worker. 

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

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

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

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

Choso put a hand over his face. 

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

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

It was making Choso a bit reckless. 

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

He had to move more carefully. 

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

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

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

Speak of the devil.

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

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

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

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

How could he forget?  

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

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

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

“Oh and sorry!” 

You interrupted his thoughts once again.

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

Your saccharine smile has Choso sucking in a hard breath. 

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

He would never know any peace.

“Keep it as long as you need.”

“Kay!”

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

“Oh Crap!” 

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

“Y/N, Watch out!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh! Like in Dexter!” 

“Yeah, Y/N, like in Dexter.” 

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

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

And so he does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stunned and a bit embarrassed, you withdraw your hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laughed and Choso found himself smiling at you again. 

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

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

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

“I- that is.. I meant-”

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

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

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

“Hey!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yo! Hands off my girl, freakshow!” 

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

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

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

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

“Uh hey, Dean I..” 

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

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

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

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

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

Tch. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You could not let this turn into an incident.

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

A wave of harsh realization washed over Choso. 

Just her T.A.

Right.

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

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

Not anymore.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Choso smirked as he left. Thought so. 

“W-wait Cho–”  

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

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

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

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

However when your eyes meet he looks right through you.

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

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

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

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

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

please stop to take a look at this wonderful art of the last scene that @laikatsuki created, tysm again pookie bears!!!

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

PART 2

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Every time I think I am free of the hybrid brain rot he pulls me in again 😭

Warnings: fem!reader, dog hybrid!gyu, cat hybrid!reader mean dom!reader, desperate horny gyu, ?unrequited love, dry humping, somnophilia, handjob, cumming in pants

Kitty!you (ofc) lives with rambunctious but very fluffy big dog hybrid gyu who you try to avoid most of the time because he just doesn’t seem to get how big he is, still thinking he is a lapdog and ends up smothering you everytime he tries to cuddle or groom you. He is always hurt when you reject him and his trembling wet eyes give you pause but not enough to let him come near you

Until your poor owner runs into financial trouble and can't afford to keep the heating on as much as usual and you find yourself regularly getting too cold to sleep. Beomgyu seems mostly unaffected. In fact he seems to like the cold, his large normally overheated body welcoming the change as usually your owner will have the heat cranked up very high just for your sake, leaving poor gyu forced to splay out on the floor, limbs spread in all directions and touching the cool ceramic floor (the only cool surface in the house) with his tongue lolling out as he pants the heat away

You always turned up your nose at him, feeling like it's inappropriate for him to lay out like that, shirtless and with his privates barely covered by his thin shorts but when you had complained to your owner, they sweetly but firmly reminded you that he's only like that because the heat has been turned up for you and that if you want to keep your eyes from being assaulted by the sight, you can always put the heat down.

Of course you didn't. Instead you scoffed and muttered something mean about the digusting view, hurting the big pup even more but you didn't care.

Well now the tables have turned, and you're left freezing even under all your blankets while he is happily sleeping in his bed with just a thin sheet covering him up. Bastard. You can practically feel the heat radiating off him and you yearn for it so badly you might actually make yourself suffer through the inconvenience of being near him just to get to it

You try to hold off as much as you can but between your shattering teeth and numb hands and feet, you can't help yourself. You stalk towards his bed with your blankets, not bothering to ask his permission before you curl up into his side and cover your bodies with the blankets.

"Huh?" Beomgyu wakes up confused, a bit of drool seeping at the corner of his mouth from deep sleep. Ugh.

"I'm cold. You're warm." Is all the explanation you give him and beomgyu does not ask for more. He doesn't want to mess this up, just happy you're finally accepting his touch even if begrudgingly.

You groan as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you tighter against him, burying his face in your neck to take a big whiff before letting out a satisfied sigh.

"It's okay. I'll keep you warm, kitty." You ignore the way his deep, husky voice right against your ear and the way his large hands wrapped around your frame makes you feel. This all doesn't mean anything. You're just cold and he is basically a free heater.

You try to ignore the noises he makes in his sleep--his little whimpers, his garbled moans, even the little urgent whispers of what sounds an awful lot like your name.

You ignore the feeling of something hard pressing against you at night, you even ignore the sometimes small, sometimes harsh rocking motions of his hips against you as he cried and whines about something in his dreams, pathetic voice calling out for someone to "please, please, i'll be good"

You ignore the way that makes your body tingle and your underwear get sticky. This is all just to keep warm.

But what you can't ignore is the startled way he wakes up almost every night and rushes to the toilet, spending 15 to 30 minutes at a time in there and leaving you to freeze again. No, this simply won't do. This defeats the whole purpose of your new sleeping arrangement. What good is it to get all warmed up in his embrace, wrapped in his large arms, feeling his heated breath panted against your neck, if he will rip it away from you and leave you for the cruel elements to ravage and reclaim your body in the middle of the night?

So when he starts crying in his sleep again and his hips begin to rut against you, you move your hand between your bodies to take a hold of his hard member that has been poking you for countless nights.

It takes a few seconds of coaxing before he realizes what's going on, a few seconds of his moans almost reaching a fever pitch at the sudden unexpected stimulation, before he wakes up with a gasp, his already big eyes massive with shock at finding you with your hand down his pants and jerking him off.

"Kitty, w-what--" you cut off his slurring words with a twist of your wrist that leaves him keening.

"You think you're so slick? You think I can't feel you humping my ass every night? You think I don't know that you run to the bathroom to jerk this stupid cock off so i don't wake up covered in your dirty cum?"

"I'm sorry. Can't help it. You smell so good." He cries out pathetically, his hips moving to meet your tight fist as you jerk him off. "Please don't be mad at me. Please don't stop sleeping with me. I can be good, I promise. I'll do better. I think I'm going into heat. I'll tell master to take me to a heat center so I can get it out of my system and be a good dog again. I promise I am not a perv. I know this is bad. I know I shouldn't do this. I'm sorry--"

"God, do you ever shut the fuck up." You growl, bringing his face to your and kissing him roughly, and despite all his emphatic proclamations, he immediately opens his mouth and lets you push your tongue in, moaning and sucking on it like the perv he claims he is not. He chases after your lips over and over again, all while his hips never stop fucking your fist, until you push his face away to catch your breath, strings of saliva joining you wet lips.

"You wanna go to heat center and fuck a pretty little bitch? You think any bitch would let a sick mutt like you who lusts after kitties near any of their holes? That's disgusting." You don't know why you’re so mean to him but you know that the thought of him breeding a random bitch at a pay to fuck facility makes your blood boil.

"I'm sorry. I know I'm bad. Just don't want you to be mad at me." He cries, real tears dripping down his long lashes. "I'll do whatever you want. I'll use my heat toys every night before we sleep so I can get it out of my system and be good for you. Would that be better? Please?"

"No need." You tell him, acting nonchalant but burning inside at his desperate need to please you, thriving off of it. Fuck this is so wrong but it feels so good and you can't stop. "I'll deal with your problem myself. You can't help it that you're a sick little mutt. I'll take care of you but you have to keep this between us. Master can't know or he'll take me away from you to protect me."

He whimpers at the last part and shakes his head, fucking desperately into your hand as if it will be taken away any second. "I won't. Just between us. I'm not a bad dog, not dangerous, just... just..."

He trails off in a whine, looking at you in frustration, his eyes trying to convey something to you that you're not sure you want to know so you pretend you don't see it.

"Just needy. Right?" You tell him sharply and he gasps, nodding, his fluffy puppy ears pressed down to his skull anxiously. "Yes. So needy."

"I know. Let me take care of you. Let go for kitty. I know you want to. I can feel you drenching my hand like a bitch in heat." You chuckle, rubbing your thumb quickly over his leaking head, making his breathing pause and shudder. "Well, i suppose you are. So come on, cum for me, my little bitch. But keep it down, we can't let master see you like this."

"Yes. Yes, pretty. Anything for you." He whines, and you ignore most of it, just focusing on the way he bites down on his lip so hard it breaks the skin just so he can keep his slutty cries at bay as he cums, shooting long ropes of warm cum into your hand and his pants, soaking both in his release that goes on and on until all that is left of his is a slumped, sweaty, drooling mess in your arms.

"Fuck, what a mess." You scrunch your nose, bringing you hand up to show him just some of his milky cum covering your hand.

"I'm sorry." He slurs, barely conscious. "I'll clean up."

He tries to get up but you hold him down firmly. You're not going to let go of your free heater after all you've just done to stay warm.

"Just clean up in the morning." You tell him, wiping your dirty hand on his pants.

"But I'm all sticky and gross."

"Good. I want you to sleep in your cum so you remember how nice I am to a disgusting perv like you."

[nonranghaes]

"you're getting water everywhere!"

mingyu giggles like the cute pain in the ass he is, and the jerk of his head is enough to splatter more water around your bathroom. he's like a dog in the way he shakes out his hair, and you recoil back in slight disgust at how wet your shirt is getting. the two of you have washed bobpul before after she got into mud during a walk when you were visiting mingyu's family, but now you swear mingyu's worse.

"mingyu!" you huff. "you asked for this and now you can't be still--"

"no, no, i'll calm down," he promises, catching one of your hands in his own. he presses a kiss to your knuckles. "i was ticklish. i'll behave, i promise."

with a roll of your eyes, you reach over him to grab his shampoo, only for him to quickly knock it away. it lands in the tub, sending up water at the two of you, and he gives you a cheeky grin.

"not that one." he reaches for your bottle, holding it up with a little shake as if to show it off. "this one."

with a roll of your eyes, you pop it open. turning the bottle over to squeeze some of your shampoo into your palm, you let out the patient sigh of someone who knows mingyu this well. yet you still adore your partner, silly as he is. "you're buying me more, then."

"done." he looks up at you, eyes twinkling. "i love you."

"yeah, yeah, so you say," you roll your eyes. but then you catch how he pouts at you, and you lean over to peck his lips quickly. "i love you, too, dork."

[becca-e-barnes]

all i can think about is bucky literally BEGGING to eat your pussy. just on his knees, calling himself a needy slut, just looking up at you with puppy dog eyes while he just begs for your pussy on his mouth. ugh.

Men who are this into eating pussy have a special place reserved for them in Heaven. Hearing someone beg to go down on you is life changing when they know what they're doing 🙈

But you're so right, Bucky would be so willing to degrade himself like that just to be allowed to go down on you. He'd be on his knees, trying to ignore how full his balls feel, begging for you.

"P-please." His voice is so quiet you almost start to question if he said it intentionally. "I need to taste you. I can't think about anything else."

His cock twitches despite how heavy it looks, flushed and angry against the pale skin of his thighs.

"Really?" You tease, tilting his chin up with two fingers so he's looking at your face, rather than your body. "Tell me exactly what you're thinking. Describe it to me"

He doesn't miss a beat. "I'm thinking about how soft you are, how warm and silky your cunt feels under my tongue. I'm thinking about burying my tongue as deep inside you as I can reach and still wishing I could get deeper. I want to feel how wet you are but more than anything, I want to taste how wet you are. I want to dream about it for the rest of the week. Every time I stroke my cock I want to be able to remember how you taste."

Precum drips from his tip and you're not sure you can deny him much longer. Not when he's making it sound so appealing.

"Do you even hear yourself?" You do your very best to act like you don't love the sound of every word that has just come out of his mouth.

"I do. I sound like a shameless, filthy, desperate slut. The type of slut who wants to kiss and lick and worship your sweet pussy until you're so sensitive you have to force me to stop." His hand wanders between his own legs, tugging his stiff length to the mere thought.

He's not above begging and you know that. He'll draw this out as long as he needs to until he gets his way but there's very little sense in that when you want this just as much as he does.

"Lie on the bed." You give him time to make his way over before following, lining yourself up just above his face.

You take a second to smooth his hair, enjoying the feeling of his freshly shaved face against the sensitive insides of your thighs.

He's looking up at you, your eyes meeting his. "Thank you." The relief in his voice is clear right before he grasps your hips and pulls you down onto his mouth.

Fuck, he's incredible. This is the mouth you dream about when you're alone. His tongue massages your clit, stroking back and forth before dipping into your fluttering entrance. You swear he must feel what he's doing to you. You feel your cunt clenching and rippling, your muscles contracting in response to the pleasure and for a second you wonder if he can tell.

He's hungry for this; he has been for hours. He's moaning and slurping obscenely, his tongue buried in your cunt. You don't even need to look over your shoulder to know that he's alternating between fucking his own fist and gripping the base of his shaft tight enough to stop him from spilling his release all over himself too soon.

It's very hard to tell which of you enjoys this more.