#there’s one sitting in a really shitty costume

[theshadowrealmitself]

Gothamites dressed up in realistic villain costumes for a Halloween party now dejectedly sitting in a temporary holding cell that Batman set up: can he hold us here? like, legally?

[selarina]

The Ken to whose Barbie?

-> Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader

Summary: He's supposed to be Ken this Halloween, as in Barbie's Ken, but he doesn't think he looks the part. But you insist that he does. He's blonde, he’s literally named Ken, and he's just oh so very handsome.

Tags: halloween party, established relationship, fluff, smut, jealously, alcohol use, spit kink, oral sex (f!receiving), implied (m!receiving) oral sex, kisses on the feet, bath scene, aftercare, she/her pronouns used for reader, unedited

Word Count: 2.5k words

Author's Note: wanted to release this on Friday the 13th but I couldn't :/ Also, sorry the smut was quick. I was horny and then I got un-horny

Read on AO3

"Wow, don't you look... flamboyant."

Shoko walked towards him as Nanami barely smiled. He greets her with a small nod. In truth, he feels absolutely fucking ridiculous in this outfit of his. He's supposed to be Ken, as in Barbie's Ken, but he doesn't think he exactly looks the part.

But you argued he does. He's blonde, he's named Kento, and he's oh so very handsome. Your words, not his. And so, of course, he agreed, albeit his reluctance.

“How have you been, Shoko-san?” Nanami inquires, hoping to divert her attention from his incongruous appearance.

"I've been good," she says, Shoko extinguishes her cigarette against the stone wall with an insouciant flick, her gaze sweeping from his exposed chest to the opulent fur draping him. "Did you lose a bet or something?"

"I do not engage in wagers," he says. "It's imprudent," he remarks.

Shoko smiles, ever so slightly. It's been years and yet some things don't change. She may not have an intimate understanding of him, not really, but she did know he would never show up in such an outfit, or in fact, any halloween outfit.

"It’s because of her, isn’t it?" Shoko probes.

He feels another of wave of chill wind hit chest, noticing the lack of a cigarette in her hand. Maybe she threw it in the bin while he was looking away. He doesn't say anything.

Shoko's expression changes now, and she smiles. He can't think of the last time he's seen her smile. She brings a hand up, placing it on his shoulder. “She’s a nice girl.”

“She is,” is all he says before Shoko pulls out another cigarette, as she vanishes back into the door.

There’s so many words to describe you, Nanami thinks. Nice is one that stands true, but it only really scratches the surface.

There’s so many words to describe you. So, so many but he can barely think of any as you walk towards him.

You're adorned in a tiny pink and white dress, the edges of your skirt just about hitting your upper thighs. And you're walking towards him with a sweet sweet smile. You look pretty.

"You look beautiful," he manages to utter as you draw near.

You leave a soft peck against his cheeks, "Thank you. You look beautiful as well," you move back to give his outfit a look.

"So, now you're taunting me. All after begging me to wear this shitty costume," he says.

"I didn't beg," you frown with a squint. You didn't beg. All you did was call him handsome, and he conceded.

"I can't believe you talked me into this," he says, as he holds out his hand for you, you stretch your hand out to loop yours into his.

Your free hand reaches for your phone, opening a QR code up, so the security could scan it.

"But you look handsome," you say as your hands shift from his forearms to his hand, as you pull him into the crux of the party. And so, he stops grumbling because as he's mentioned before — it's really all it takes from you.

The party scene is not quite what he expected, he was expecting chaos and sticky floor, but it's a bit lax and he can actually hear his thoughts out loud, even though he wishes nothing more than to turn them off now. Because you looks so fucking cute in your outfit, and every time you sit, your skirt rides up — just a little — to reveal your thighs, and he finds himself wishing he could just take you back home. He wants to leave.

No, he needs to leave.

Self restraint has always been one of Nanami's strong suits. But with you, it's always faded to dust.

His first kiss with you happened on a whim, it wasn't planned or anything. He saw you sitting outside on a park bench, on a normal forgettable park bench, and he thought you looked pretty. And so, he leaned in for a kiss.

He then met you days later for your third date, but he could barely let you get past your front door. The dinner reservation had gone to waste, but he just couldn't help himself, you looked too good in your dress.

"Let's leave," he says, bending down to whisper in your ears as you take a sip from your glass.

"What? No," you protest, a soft frown marring your features. "We just got here."

Mirroring your frown, he presses, "But I want to leave now."

He can't help but think about how unlike himself he sounds, he sounds like a child begging for a treat. You could sternly tell him you want to stay, and he'd listen, none too alike to a child.

"Hey," he hears a gruff voice from beside you.

It's a man, dressed in a military outfit, but neither of you know him, at least to his knowledge. He turns to look at you and he confirms the same because you're looking back at him with a similar expression.

"Can we help you?" you ask.

"I know you're dressed as Barbie," the man says. "But I think you're missing wings because you look like an angel."

Apart from the fact that the compliment is just too wordy. Nanami thinks he's pissed because this man has no etiquette, Nanami's hand had been clinging to your waist all night, so what made him think he could come over and hit on you?

But most of all, what pisses him off is that he's not wrong.

"Well, I'm Barbie and Barbie has a Ken so," you say, turning to him and he could swear your eyes twinkled just then.

The stranger persisted, with a chuckle, "Some Barbies have G.I. Joe boyfriends. You should ask my little sister."

Before you can respond, arms encircle your waist, pulling you close to Nanami. "Not this one." His words are curt and final, "Now, leave."

At that the G.I Joe guy's eyes widens, before he wordlessly takes his leave.

And that's all it takes from Nanami to take your glass from your hand before he leaves it on an unoccupied table with a loud clink. He guides your hand into his.

"We're leaving," he says plainly as you nod.

—

Your hands slide to Nanami's neck, and you pull. Your jaw flex as your mouths move. You're so used to his languid movements, that his quick movements leave you reeling.

His torso is completely flush against yours as he lifts you off the ground, still kissing you as he walks to close the front door shut.

Your ankles hook around his back, his hands slide down to grip the undersides of your bare thighs.

It doesn't take too long for him to drop you onto your bed, he quickly takes fur coat off, as he's coming back down to kiss you.

You taste like mint cranberry with a tinge of alcohol remnants around your lips, he thinks.

You cart your fingers through his undercut, before tugging on the roots of the hair above. 

He parts away from you now, and this time he slows down. Not because he needs it, but because he doesn't always act this way, he's not always this harsh with his movements, he loves treating you with soft caresses and gentle grips, but there are times like this where you just bring out a different, more untamed side of him.

You take his headband off, as your hands stay on his hair, but this time you play with it, carding through. You know he's thinking, and you know what he's thinking about.

"Kento," you say, soft as a whisper.

He hums. "Are you jealous of the little G.I Joe man?"

Little.

"Why would I be jealous of him?" he asks, as though you've insulted him by implying so. He admits it pissed him off, he admits there is a strange, more concerning side of him that wishes he could keep you all to himself, that he could keep you away from eyes that could see your beauty, but truly, he doesn't worry about other people much. He has all his faith in you.

"It did annoy me," he says. He bends down, leaving a soft kiss forehead.

And that's the last of his softness for you today, he comes back up. "Open," he says, his thumb grazing over your chewed up bottom lip.

And you do, as you often do, your mouth opens, and your eyes stare up at him, wide and waiting with devotion he can only think of deserving at times like this.

Nanami purses his lips and hocks a glob of spit directly into your mouth, as you swallow.

He pushes your legs apart. He bends down, placing the softest kisses all around your neck, "You're so good to me," he says as you groan in tandem.

His hands move up and down, tracing inconsequential patterns before they go up to tug at the straps of your underwear before he pulls them down your legs.

Nanami moves back from your body, your skirt is bunched up to your waist, and you sit upright as you stare down at him in all of your half-naked glory. It takes merely one look at your face— your lips ajar, your hair mussed, your stare hazy — for him to decide he should be on his knees for you.

His knees hit the ground, and his hands come to hold your oustered foot.

His lips come down to press a steady kiss to the arch of your foot as he maintains a painstakingly unwavering eye contact with your eyes.

Slowly, his kisses move higher. He presses the second one just past your ankles, his lips touching the flexing muscles of your calves. With his kiss, your muscles relax.

And then he moves even more higher to the sensitive skin behind your knees, it's ticklish almost so your toes curl to suppress the sensation. And then finally, he settles, he dedicates some time, stopping to leave more than a few kisses to your inner thighs.

Now as his face remains near your inner thighs, Nanami can’t resist, and he sucks twin hickeys onto each side of your thighs. His thumb coming to trace his work of art, as his eyes come back to find your eyes. His brown eyes entrapping you in place.

For a solid minute, Nanami can't do nothing but stare at your pretty cunt. You refuse to squirm but every time he does this, it makes you feel squeamish and seen, you feel the need to kick off and run away. His warm breath dances over the sensitive skin, and you squirm — just a little, begging for the return of his mouth.

He smears his mouth against your cunt with open mouth kisses. Wet trails of his spit glister in the wake of his lips. He uses his fingers to pinch at your hood until your clit peeks out for him.

“You're so good to me Kento baby,” you whisper.

“Yeah?” Nanami asks. He likes hearing it every time, he asks you over and over and over again, until it's all you can seems to say.

You nod eagerly, "Yeah," you say with a soft gulp.

His hand continued to toy with your clit, your hips bucking greedily against the anchor of his hands at your hips, begging for more pressure, more, more, more. And it's just like him to give you more and beyond.

He moves in again — his tongue to his nose both buried in between your legs, as he laps and sucks on until finally your thighs start to show its very first quiver.

With that he moves, focusing his attention on your clit, he is persistent and needy in the way he moves, like he's a starved and depraved little thing. It's so unlike his usual self, so you commit it to memory every chance you get.

The foot that was once laying limp on his shoulder, now clenches, drawing him closer and closer by the neck with every move he continues to make. He can tell you are going cum soon.

It's the part he commits to memory— the way your hips arc, humping to get what you need to fly over the edge, as your eyes are shut with pleasure.

And you come into his mouth at one consequential contact, he relishes that familiar tang as he laps it all up.

He wipes his mouth with one hand and he looks up to you, you look at him and a quiet moment passes by, he can hear a vehicle outside, making it's way across the road.

And then you break out into soft chuckles, it comes out restrained because you're just so out of breath.

You move to the ground, your hand hitting the ground beside him, you're still breathing heavily as you force him to take your place on the bed.

Your hands settle on his thighs, as you caress it his high from over his pants. You look up, as you reach for his belt. "Your turn now, Kento baby."

—

“Tell me why it annoyed you,” you murmur, punctuating your sentence with a small yawn.

The warmth of the bath makes him feel even more drowsy than he’s been feeling, but this feels too nice to wake up and make or even order dinner.

Nanami lies with his back propped in the bath, his knees are spread, sitting against the bathtub to fit your body. Your back lays warm and wet against his chest, and the crown of your head just below his chin. His hands hold your breasts in each palm, slowly caressing your nipples.

Maybe it's because he's feeling drowsy. Maybe it's because you've drained him of his all his energy tonight, but he speaks up. “I guess, I just want you all to myself sometimes."

"Of course, you do. I'm a catch," you say with a giggle.

Nanami tweaks your nipple, and you squeal. The water around him sloshes over the edge of the bathtub, drenching the mat as you move in his hold.

“You can be cocky sometimes,” Nanami says mournfully.

You laugh, and the vibration of your chest shifts your breasts in his hands. "I am yours though," you say. Sweet as you are, he feels like you have to say this to him, you have to reassure him constantly. He doesn’t think he could just know this, as blind faith or by the look in your eyes.

Nanami may look a man confident of his abilities and status, but with you, he thinks you could do so much better. You deserve more than half-truths, and repressed staggering feelings, and so he needs to hear it

"You are," he says. "I guess it's just odd then."

"It's not," your response is immediate. "I understand."

"You do?" he asks.

"Yeah, did you see the number of women looking at you today?" you say, and there's a hint of agitation there, and Nanami hates to admit it but it does something to him. To have this knowledge that you could even care that much for him.

"I didn't see them," he says moments later when you’re both in bed. You nestle in deeper against his chest, barely awake at all. I only see you.

"I know," you smile, and he feels it against his chest.

[peachsukii]

Okay I’m back I’m sorry your writing is like cocaine to me idk you’re awesome-

Bakugou x reader where they’re on a mission and it involves a teams of heroes to dress up like Dynamight to confuse the enemy??? Just like Bakugou’s reaction to seeing his girlfriend decked out in his gear like 😭😭😭

but like picture like reader trying to fit Bakugou into a version of her costume too-

Ohkay I’m going even further now- Bakugou and reader wearing formal wear modeled after each other at a Hero’s gala to debut their relationship to the world???? I can just imagine after the mission they just really like wearing each other’s stuff-

Anyways you’re amazing have an amazing day!!

I’m so so sorry this took me so long to get to! You’re the sweetest!! 🥰 thank you so much for rec and coming back! I’ve enjoyed the ideas you’ve suggested so much and hope you like this one. 💖✨

Substitute Gear

『 ♡』  k.bakugo x fem!reader ꒰ pro-hero au | age 24 | lovers (bf/gf) ꒱ ⇢ bakugo and reader are joking around in their apartment one night when they decide to try on each others costumes! this leads to a fun inspiration for the upcoming hero gala as their agencies recommend for them to reveal their relationship officially. Why not do it in style?

꒰ tags & warnings ꒱ no cw minus cursing | fun & fluffy ꒰ cross posted to ao3 | wc; ~1.1k ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

“Ugh, what an ugly shift,” you complain as you’re walking through the front door of your apartment. You’re kicking off your dirty boots in the entryway when Katsuki comes to greet you.

“Long day?” He asks, analyzing how filthy your hero suit is. It doesn’t stop him from giving you a light peck on the lips to welcome you home.

“More like what didn’t happen today. A kid threw up on me, and when I washed that off, some asshole bled all over me when I cuffed him! To top it all off, I tripped and fell into the mud while in pursuit of a robbery. Head first!”

As you’re rattling off the laundry list of shitty things that happened during the day, Katsuki’s silently instructing you to take the suit off. He spins you around, unzipping the neck piece and carefully removing all of your components and accessories.

“I broke my damn helmet in that fall,” you groan, wiping dried dirt from your cheek.

“Better than your head, dumbass,” Katsuki counters. “Ya got extras, no use cryin’ over one of ‘em.”

You shimmy the suit off of your shoulders and pull out of the material one limb at a time.

“You’d think as heroes, there’d be a professional laundry service or something,” you complain, letting your suit crumple on the floor. It comically puffs out a dried cloud of grime.

Katsuki stifles a laugh. “Weird way of sayin’ I do all your laundry. Get your ass in the shower, you reek.” He smacks your barely-covered ass to get you moving, continuing to snicker to himself as you waddle down the hallway.

───

After a long and hot shower, you emerge from the bathroom with a dramatic haze of steam following you.

“Ya done yet, peach? Dinners done,” Katsuki calls from the kitchen, dishes clattering as he’s prepping plates for the two of you. You scamper down the hall to meet him in the kitchen, a delicious aroma filling your senses when you approach the stove. He hands you one of the plates of beef and peppers stacked high on a bed of rice.

“Mmm, you even made me extra peppers!” You chirp, flashing him a cheesy smile. He grins in response and slips past you to sit on the couch.

The news channel is droning in the background during dinner, the news anchors excitedly discussing the upcoming annual Hero Gala - the glitz and glamour side of it, anyways. The Gala itself is an enormous event to celebrate Japan’s hero society and to announce the year’s hero ranking; however, everyone treats it as one extravagant event, red carpet and all.

“I’ve never been to the gala before,” you say before taking another mouthful of rice. “I never qualified to attend until this year. I’m kinda nervous to be…debuting us, if I’m being honest.”

Your agencies had caught wind of your relationship - rather, Katsuki’s assistant accidentally caught you two kissing in his office - and wanted to use you as an opportunity to introduce the “new hottest hero couple.” Agencies care about appearances and tabloid drama just as much as actual hero work. What's hotter than a top hero dating a lower - much lower - ranked hero?

The gala is in two weeks and the two of you haven't settled on what to do about it.

“Th’ agencies wanting to use us as an attention grab is fuckin’ stupid," Katsuki mumbles, brows scrunched in frustration. "Who gives a shit who we're dating? Doesn't affect my ability ta do my job."

He had a point, of course, but that didn't make you any less nervous about it. You were being pressured to have an extremely public date and let "fans" know that Dynamight was off the market. The thought of fans metaphorically bashing your head in wasn't ideal, but whatever gets "ratings," right?

"We might as well just show up in each others' costumes," you joke, rolling your eyes as the news anchor shifts topics to the latest update on another nonsense story.

"That's...not a bad idea!" He shouts, putting his plate on the coffee table and excitedly jogging down the hall to the bedroom. "Where's your backup suit?"

"In the closet, why? There's no way your muscular ass is getting in that tight suit."

"No, dumbass! C'mere!"

You place your plate next to his and get up from the couch, waltzing to the bedroom to see what he's on about. Both your hero suit and his are laying on the bed next to each other.

"What if we swapped colors?" He asked, pointing to the suit designs. "You wear mine and I wear yours. That'll give the media somethin' to yap about."

That's actually...a brilliant idea! The media would absolutely eat up the "bad boy" Dynamight strutting into the gala with his partner's color pallet, especially because your colors were pinks and purples.

You raise an eyebrow to him, smirking as you begin to imagine him in a sharp pink and purple suit. "You do look good in pink, the few times you've worn it."

Katsuki cackles and winks at you. "Course I do, I make anythin' look good."

He immediately calls his agency to request the garments - they agreed wholeheartedly and offered to fund both outfits.

───

The night of the gala has finally arrived! There are plenty of news crews from all channels present, huddled around the main red carpet entrance. The scene is bedazzled with flashing camera lights, the shutter sounds of multiple cameras capturing photos in tandem. Your complimentary custom outfits are pristine and Katsuki's hand is in yours as the limo pulls up to the gateway, giving you a soft squeeze to gather your attention.

"It'll be fine, sweets. Jus' follow my lead, 'kay?"

You nod while taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. "Thanks babe."

The limo attendant outside skips to the door, opening it for the two of you and ushering you to the entrance. You're both standing in line behind other heroes awaiting their turn to enter the building, attention already building in your direction. A few minutes go by before one of the hosts motions for the two of you to proceed to the entrance.

Your heart is racing, threatening to burst right through your ribcage as the hot spotlights are covering the two of you. Cameras are flashing rapidly, waves of unintelligible shouting invading your senses - "Dynamight! Over here, look this way!" "Just one this way, you two!" "To the left, please!"

Katsuki's jaw is tense as his eyes are roaming around to satisfy multiple camera men, the resting glare he normally sports on patrol adoring his features. Your attempting to keep a soft smile, posing and waving gently. Suddenly, you're tugged into Katsuki's side, his hand leaving yours and wrapping around your waist, pulling you into his personal space. He spins you to face him, cupping your chin and dipping you backwards as his lips grace your own, holding you in place.

The world around explodes with surprise, the peanut gallery clamoring with questions about the two of you - "Are you two an item?" "Oh! A higher ranked hero and a brand new one!" "What a scandalous amount of PDA!"

When you part, he pulls you back to his side and keeps his hand on your waist while the two of you continue into the gala together. The paparazzi outside are tailing the two of you as they're stopped at the door, shouting for answers as he flips them off over his head.

"Told ya it'd be fine. Now let's fuckin' eat and enjoy the damn night."

thanks again for the suggestion @queenpiranhadon ! ✨

[pepperyduck]

“matte black” with toji fushiguro

word count: 1.4k

warnings: nsfw, ghostface! toji, roleplay, dubcon (it's planned out beforehand), gunplay, like lots of gunplay, knifeplay + cutting off clothes, unprotected p in v, backshots, a little crying, toji tries to scare you but it doesn't work out how he thinks. (18+ mdni!)

notes: hi guyssss tysm for 500 hunnid followers :3 i appriciate u all!!!!

kinktober masterlist | masterlist

“i mean, really, who makes you work late on halloween?”

your complaints to your friend are barely heard, as she’s busy on the other line doing something with her boyfriend. but really, who makes you work late on halloween? okay, yeah, you’re an adult, but everyone with kids at your job got to go home at a reasonable time, so why were you just now getting home at nearly midnight?

and as you still ramble on about your shitty job, something lurks around your apartment. maybe it was all the halloween decorations you saw, or the feeling of the night itself, but you can’t seem to shake the feeling of something being around you.

that’s why you called your friend in the first place, though you were too scared to admit it..

“hang up the phone.”

the voice that speaks to you is right in your ear, yet you feel no one around you. it’s dark, raspy, scary. probably anyone’s worst nightmare on the night of halloween.

“hang up.”

you freeze in terror, even more so when you come to the realization of the cold barrel pressed against your temple. the friend that had been forgotten on the other end of the line hangs up when you don’t reply to her statement. and you think, just for a second, you are absolutely fucked.

“please don’t—,” you try to plead, and a hand comes over your mouth. cool leather presses against your face, whoever’s hand this is has to be absolutely huge.

“no talking, i’ll tape your mouth shut.” he threatens, his tone dangerous and intimidating.

but also, weirdly hot. there’s a fever coming over your body and a mix of feelings, and you aren’t sure if you’re more scared or turned on. you close your eyes and nod your head, a single tear rolling down your cheek to meet his glove. keeping your mouth covered, the man wraps his free arm around you, dragging you away to your couch. he throws you down, allowing himself to come into your view.

your suspicions are correct, he is big, a huge frame of nothing but muscles. your eyes trail up, seeing his baggy black pants, and the black short sleeve shirt encasing his broad shoulders. and, like any of those scary movies you watched, a ghostface mask sits atop his build, matte black eyes and mouth staring into the depths of your very being.

but even as frightened as you may be, you know exactly who’s below that scary costume, especially with that infamous gun tucked sloppily into the front pocket of his pants. but you decide to play along for now. your wet eyelashes flutter as you look into the empty eyes of the mask, coyly egging toji on to continue his terrifying persona.

“strip.” toji commands, grabbing the pistol out of his pocket and showing off the shiny metal. (it’s the same one you gifted him for your one year anniversary, with his initials engraved on the side and a cool design, but you ignore it.)

“but—,”

“i said, strip.” and once again, the cool steel makes contact with you, right in the middle of your forehead. he’s all too quick with his movements.

your somewhat trembling fingers make way to the top button of your blouse, hastily and frantically trying to unbutton your shirt. unfortunately, you take too long for toji’s liking, and unfortunately, he just has to pull out the shiny knife he had kept in his boot, adorned with a matte black handle. toji urges you back with the tip of the gun, and your back lands against the soft cushions of your couch, the knife is already ripping through the thin fabric of your shirt, cutting through the thin piece that held the cups of your bra together. your arms flail up in an attempt to cover yourself.

“aht, don’t move.”

the muzzle presses up against your chin, facing you away from him and from your body. thickly swallowing, you stare up at the ceiling and allow toji to do what he wanted to. when you look down, the mask is cut off by the round of your cheek, but toji’s obviously focused elsewhere as he saws through the denim material of your jeans.

“toji! these are—!” you try to get him to have some decency and unbutton your pants, but the muzzle only presses harder. it shuts you up, and the remaining parts of your jeans are shredded off, piece by piece, agonizingly slow. next to come off is your panties, a sharp riiip shooting through the air as the cold blade tears the cotton. the surrounding coolness of your home hits your sopping cunt. beneath the mask, toji grins.

“nasty girl,” toji spits, “you’re really getting’ off on this, huh?” the muzzle presses against your chin harder for only a second, before toji contorts you into his liking. he rips the gun away and flips your body over, bending you over the arm of the couch. you smile to yourself in the compromised position, at toji’s mercy, just how the both of you liked.

toji unbuckles the belt threaded through the loops on his cargos, removing it in one tug and throwing it somewhere on the floor. ears perking up at the clatter, you lift your head to try and look back at toji, and the mask stares coldly at you in return. there’s no emotion in a mask. he tugs the thick fabric of his pants down and his boxers at the same time, allowing his fully hardened cock to spring free of it’s confines. thick fingers prod against your entrance, sliding around in your slickened folds to halfway prep you for toji’s cock.

toji’s soft, rounded tip kisses your awaiting opening, barely teasing the weeping hole that was so ready for him. he slides in with ease, burying himself until his pubic hairs scratched the skin of your ass. unrelenting. you lewdly moan out, filling the once silent air with the sounds of your pleasure. it’s getting too hot too quick—toji notices how into all this you seem, even through the dark eyeholes of the mask. though his vision is blocked off halfway, he sees you fucking back into his slow pace, the wet sloshing of your cunt bringing utmost satisfaction to toji. and he stills. he gets an idea.

“fuck me, baby,” toji commands, dark and rough.

“toji,” you whine, doing the bare minimum to move yourself back onto him.

“like you want it,” his voice gets meaner, and he rips the mask off his face to get a better view. toji’s hand wraps around your hair just enough to force your head up, “c’mon, now.”

you grumble to yourself in dissatisfaction, but do as he says, moving your hips back to force his length back inside you. it stretches past each gummy ring, poking at your g-spot effortlessly. you hated him for how easily he made you feel like this, horny and so pleasured, as if his ego needed any more boosting.

toji rips the mask off his face, displeased with his limited viewing area. and boy does that stupid grin get ridiculously wider when you begin to slap your ass against him faster, holding yourself up with the help of his hand holding your hair. his cock splits you open, each inch going in and out becoming increasingly overwhelming. your mind is blank, only filled with the noises of your own pleasure and the big, strong, scary man fucking you.

“yeahhh,” he drawls, grunting as you force yourself back on him harder, “c’mere, babe.”

you try to lift yourself up for him more, yet your body falls limp when toji begins hammering into you without remorse. so, of course, he takes it upon himself to wrap an arm around your shoulders and lift you up, pressing your back into his chest. your body bounces in tune with his thrusts, arms switching between flailing around and grasping for toji. his other free hand wraps around your jaw to turn your head, his rough lips sloppily meeting yours.

even through all this, toji always finds a way to show you intimacy.

but really, he’s just found a few more of your weaknesses he’s going to exploit until you can’t take it anymore. a little fucked up of him, yeah, but toji knows you can take it. especially with the way your body melts into him so naturally, putting yourself at his disposal.

“don’t get tired now, doll,” he groans against your ear,

“we’re just gettin’ started.”

[kelstey]

friendly neighbourhood spider-man

modern! au, spider-man!mattheo riddle x reader

warnings : none

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

you rested up in your bed, the light pitter patter of rain pouring up against your window. the sky was a gloomy, dreadful grey. despite the dim - depressing outside, you were fully engrossed in your book.

rainy days were the best, tucked up in bed, shitty, cheap fairy lights hanging by a thread covered your walls, a hot cup of tea and a book.

thankfully - you had the day off of work, and there would ve been no better way to waste your day away than engulfed in a fully fictional world of your own as you read about men that simply would never exist in the real world.

you sipped the fruit tea, realising you maybe went a bit overboard with the honey but it was good - nonetheless. and with the cost of living crisis it's not exactly like you'd waste away a, somewhat, good cup of tea.

you rolled your eyes, setting the book down as you looked out your window. for fucks sake. you let out a huff, opening the window to let the red and blue suited man in.

"mattheo what have i told you about coming to mine? especially in your costume," you shut the window as he climbed into your room.

"lovely to see you too," he sat down on your desk chair.

"fuck! mattheo you're bleeding!" you grabbed his wrist and pulled him up, leading him into the hardly made-for two bathroom. "sit," you told him and he sat up on the counter.

"it's not that bad," he finally took his mask off, a cut visible on his nose. there was splatters of blood all over his face, his forehead covered in a thin layer of sweat yet he still looked amazing.

"not that bad? are you fucking joking me?" you couldn't even look at him - more so focused on trying to gather items to patch him up with.

it wasn't unusual, matthe showing up to your flat unannounced. though you had told him multiple times that it wasn't safe for the spider man to wander into some random flat in the middle of london.

you didn't want any of his stupid enemies trying to hunt you down - gosh, mattheo would go batshit insane if anyone ever laid a hand on you.

despite that - the stupid fucker was at your flat, once again.

"well at least i'm alive.?" he shrugged.

"best believe you won't be alive if you keep getting injured like this," mattheo hissed as you wiped him down with some rubbing alcohol. "do stupid things, get stupid consequences."

mattheo was fighting his smile back - adoring the way you were mad at him yet still were helping him. "i'll be okay," he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

you stood between his legs, arms on either side of him as you looked down. "i really care about you, mattheo. i don't like seeing you hurt," your eyes watered as you made eye contact with him.

as much as it hurt you that he was visibly injured and bleeding - he still looked as good as ever. the cut on his nose was truly something.

"i know, baby. but it's kind of my job, you know? your friendly neighbourhood spider man?" he placed a hand on one of your cheeks as he admired you, using his sweet, gentle eyes on you.

"i fucking hate you, you know that, right?" you looked away as a smile spread across your lips.

"you gotta admit though, it's a flex to call spider man your boyfriend," mattheo chuckled.

"sweetheart i think you forgot the part where only i know you're spider man. and ned - and auntie may."

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

[luminetti]

Dressed to Kill

༘⋆ Summary: In which, you, a professional cosplayer, mistake Bakugou’s hero outfit for a really good Halloween costume. ༘⋆ Pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader ༘⋆Warnings: n/a, reader is just the biggest dumbass (lovingly) also, i cannot stress this enough. they are NOT CHILDREN in this. they’re both at least the age of college seniors  ༘⋆Notes: huge thanks to one of my biggest inspirations for writing in general: @andypantsx3 ! this fic is lightly inspired by—and lowkey a lovechild of—her pieces, baby are you playing tricks and unconventional, so if you somehow haven’t read those yet, i strongly recommend doing so!  also now that i actually have more than one piece of writing, id love for some writer/fandom moots! im very new to tumblr and would love friends :’)  ao3 release

Halloween was by far your favorite holiday. 

As a child, you were always drawn to Halloween, not just for the candy, but for the extravagant costumes and house decorations. Nearly every year, you stayed up late with your father, hand-sewing various details onto your costume. Finally, for your eighteenth birthday, you were gifted your very own sewing machine which officially kickstarted your interest in cosplay.

Throughout your first couple years of college, you worked on your Twitter account, posting quick mirror selfies of your various cosplay projects. Only during senior year did you finally feel comfortable enough to go out in public for your first official photoshoot.

‘Comfortable’ was a bit of a stretch. Very seldom does one feel truly comfortable when posing in front of a grandiose fountain in the middle of a public garden, fully clad in foam armor. What made it significantly worse was when the aforementioned armor looked more like a metal bikini than an actual chest plate worn into battle.

Poor character design choices aside, you loved Halloween for that very reason. With everyone dressed up–or down, for some–there was no reason to feel self-conscious during your monthly photoshoots. Sure, there was the occasional snide remark, but the number of supportive comments from passersby was enough to quiet your uncertainty.

This year you had stayed up late for the past month putting the final touches on your purple staff, even attempting an LED system that allowed parts of it to glow. It had taken two weeks to get the prototype of the dress situated since you weren’t used to sewing such a large amount of detail into your fabrics. Unfortunately, this also meant it took significantly longer to finish the outfit than expected, leaving almost no time to do your wig. But, in true cosplayer fashion, you managed to whip something together with an older purple wig, just in time for tonight.

You did, however, only realize the character also had a sword occasionally, but there was no way you were going to make that in time so the staff would have to suffice.

The night had already been proving to be one of the best so far. Starting around eight in the evening, you and some of your closest friends had gotten together for a costume party, a series of shitty horror movies, and a plethora of even shittier cheap cocktails. Despite not being much of a drinker yourself, you always participated in the annual spooky-themed cocktail charcuterie. This year you weren’t holding back. Your pride and joy charcuterie consisted of nine drinks including, but not limited to ghost-themed Aperol Spiritz–nicknamed Spirit Spiritz, Bloody Marys, and your personal favorite, Bonejitos. They even had little skeleton dudes sitting on the rim of the glass.

Unfortunately, your friends weren’t very amused by your festive drinks, even going as far to say your ingenious Bonejitos were a stretch. So, clearly they didn’t see the vision. Eventually, the party events died down as the guests began to go home, allowing the night to evolve into just drinking.

“Did you get a photo of your costume yet?” Himari, your friend from freshman year, questioned.

You shook your head, absently watching as the rest of your friends downed your masterly made Bonejitos. Liars, all of them. “‘A stretch’ my ass,” you scoffed.

Himari dug around in her bag, retrieving her camera. “Halloween photoshoot? Your fit is cute and I’m getting bored here.”

You did like the idea of photography-major level photos with none of the price involved. “I love you, Mari.”

She stuffed your spear under her arm and with that, the two of you stepped out into the cold and crisp autumn air, the breeze running over your bare shoulders and thighs. You shivered lightly, pulling up your thigh-highs and hugging the excess fabric close to your body.

Himari glanced at you in concern. “Does the Raiden Shogun not wear a jacket?”

“Unfortunately, she doesn’t.” You chuckled, rubbing your arms. “You can’t be sexy and wear a jacket,” you joked.

She hummed in sympathy, looking around for a good place to set up. The park was a particularly popular spot during Halloween, specifically known for its comforting lighting and ambience.

 “What about there?” Himari pointed to a small gazebo surrounded by violets, lit up by a string of fairy lights. There were a couple groups nearby, but otherwise it was pretty much empty.

You nodded, excited. “Good eye as always, Mari.”

She handed over your spear and offered an arm,helping you step up onto the platform and underneath the gazebo. While she adjusted the lights to her liking, you took a moment to adjust your skirt and sleeves.

“Do you think it’s too short?” you asked, tugging on the cloth. Thankfully the character wore a pair of shorts underneath, but the dress was barely miniskirt length.

Himari looked over briefly before turning back to the lights. “No, not really. Why? Are you uncomfortable?”

Before you could answer, a group of college-aged girls passed by the gazebo, clearly a bit drunk. As they left, one of the girls that was hanging onto her friend’s arm looked over. “Don’t be, girlie! You look hot as fuck!” she shouted out, words slightly slurred.

You flustered, blabbering out a quick thanks in surprise. There’s nothing like a friendly drunk girl to get your confidence up.

From behind the camera, Himari gave you a thumbs up. “Give me one of these.” She mimed leaning against the wooden banister. “Yeah like that, but with your leg more out.”

The shutter clicked several times as you did your best to recreate her gestures.

Himari proceeded to guide you through a series of poses, occasionally having you incorporate your staff or the gazebo. Eventually you got used to the flashing camera and allowed yourself to melt into the character, embodying her essence as best as you could.

Time flew and before you knew it, Himari was calling you down from the gazebo to look over the photos. You hovered over her shoulder as she flipped through each one, pausing at her favorites.

“I’ll import these onto my laptop and send them back edited sometime this week,” she told you, removing her glasses and wiping them off with her sleeve.

You nodded. “Thanks for doing this, you really didn’t have to.” You rummaged through your bag, hoping to find at least a little money for her efforts. Feeling a couple bills between your fingers, you held them out to her.

Himari’s eyes squinted and you realized she was staring over your shoulder. “I think that guy in costume was looking at you,” she said, still cleaning off the lenses.

You turned to see a tall man across the park, large grenade shaped gauntlets resting on both his arms. He quickly looked away once he saw your head turn. Looking closer, you realized he was dressed in a dark black sleeveless jumpsuit with orange and green straps along his body.

He was clearly a Dynamight cosplayer. And by the looks of it, a really talented one at that.

You were almost convinced that he had real hero equipment on. His armor pieces were strikingly accurate, and you made a mental note to look for more realistic prop materials.

“He probably spent a lot of time on that,” you mused to Himari, who had already gone back to inspecting the photos.

“You should go ask him about it.” she suggested, collecting the rest of her things and zipping her bag. “I’ve gotta catch an Uber soon.”

Maybe it was the lingering confidence gifted by the girl from earlier, but you managed to muster up enough self-assurance to wave goodbye to Himari and stride right up to the cosplayer.

As you got closer, you realized just how much work must have gone into all the details. The gauntlets–a very convincing metal–had several dents and scratches, giving it a worn down look, as if it had been used frequently.

His hair looked far too real to be a wig, likely just being his natural hair with lots of product in it. The most impressive detail by far was his physique. Had he trained specifically for this? The closer you got the more you noticed. If you were lucky, maybe he’d give you the name of his supplier.

“I love your outfit!” You smiled cheerily at him.

He turned to look at you, slightly taken aback. “Thanks?” he replied, folding his arms as he looked you over, eyes lingering on your cosplay.

You felt a twinge of anxiety as he inspected your outfit. He probably just didn’t recognize the character, you convinced yourself.

“I’m a cosplayer too,” you clarified, gesturing to your dress. “But clearly not as dedicated as you.”

You watched as his chest puffed lightly at the compliment, though he titled his head, a bit puzzled.

Clearing your throat awkwardly, you tried a different method. “How long did it take to make?”

He blinked at you and shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe a couple of months? I just told them what I wanted.”

Oh, you got it now. He’s just a model. It wasn’t uncommon for people to collaborate on cosplays, especially ones where one person either commissions or buys a cosplay from an artist, and then models it themself. Either way, he was still one of the best you’ve seen.

You nodded in understanding. “Do you have social media? I’d love to see what else you’ve done.” Pulling out your phone, you loaded up your Twitter, preparing to enter his tag.

“Dynamight Official. All one word,” he replied hesitantly, looking you up and down as if he was scanning for signs of sickness.

You chuckled faintly. He was really dedicated to his role. “Well, what's your name? I follow a lot of cosplayers already. Maybe I’ve seen you?” You pulled up your profile and turned the screen around to show him in case he recognized your tag.

His arms unfolded and his face slowly morphed from confused to exceptionally amused. “Bakugou Katsuki. I am Dynamight.”

Waving him off absently, you nodded as you scrolled through your followed accounts. You swear you’ve seen him online before. “Sorry, I’m not really good at roleplay. But you’re pretty convincing.”

He leaned against the cold metal lamppost, watching you sift through various Twitter accounts. You sneaked a glance to check his facial features again, but he was already staring straight back at you.

In such close capacity, his striking crimson eyes stood out to you. Even his contacts were high quality… Fighting back the warmth that threatened your cheeks and ears, you averted your gaze downwards.

Your eyes flicked to his waist. You hadn’t noticed it before, but a thick black bomber jacket was tied tightly around his torso, unlike the real hero’s costume. Well, you stand corrected. You certainly can be sexy with a jacket.

Speaking of jackets, you had been so caught up in conversation you hadn’t realized how cold it had gotten. The soft breeze from earlier had picked up into chilly wind, rustling the fabric of your dress as it blew by.

Bakufaux–haha–seemed to notice your interest in his jacket, untying it and tossing it over your shoulders. “Bit cold for you, Princess?” he drawled. “D’nno how you’ve managed in that outfit.” He gestured to your short dress and tall socks.

You couldn’t help but notice how his gaze lingered on you for a half second longer than normal. Not that you would’ve said anything. Thanks to his jacket, you were enveloped with warm and musky scents of charcoal and sandalwood. Though, being honest with yourself, you’ve been distracted ever since you walked over.

You snapped out of your trance when he pushed himself off the lamppost and leaned over you. It could’ve been twenty degrees out and you’d still swear you were overheating.

“Ever considered cosplaying in my costume?” He asked, watching your darkening cheeks closely.

Maybe it was the shit eating grin he wore proudly on his face, or the sneaking suspicion in your gut, but you had an inkling of a feeling he knew something you didn’t. In a surge of confidence and curiosity, or perhaps just pure adrenaline, you took a step forward.

“And if I have?”

Something snapped behind his eyes and you could’ve sworn his gaze dropped to your lips. He might’ve actually kissed you if you weren’t interrupted by the sound of glass shattering and the screams of customers inside a late night coffee shop.

You felt your heart rate increase as he swore under his breath, whatever smug expression he previously had was replaced by something far more intense and serious.

‘“I’m not leaving you out here alone, stay close to me,” he urged, taking one last look at you before turning and running towards the sound.

It took you a second to realize you were running behind him as fast as possible.

As the two of you neared the coffee shop, you noticed numerous shards of glass laid out on the concrete. On a second glance, you noticed some of the smaller shards were beginning to melt, turning the ground slightly slick.

You halted to a stop, almost crashing into your new friend. You felt a warm hand snake around your waist, lifting your body off the ground and onto a nearby bench.

“Don’t touch the ground, and stay right here,” he told you sternly, before turning and rushing straight into the cafe.

You watched, frozen in astonishment, only able to hear the horrific sounds of glass and… explosions? Occasionally you caught a glimpse of blonde hair, dropping off a poor customer caught in the crossfire, before dashing straight back inside. In what felt like seconds, he had already retrieved nearly every patron from the cafe, all while the villain was still inside.

Quickening footsteps approached from behind your place on the bench. You barely had a chance to comprehend the noises when a flash of red zipped past you, making a beeline straight for the cafe. Only after several trips in and out of the building did you finally recognize the eccentric costume of Pro-Hero Red Riot as he gathered the remainder of the victims outside.

Through the ringing in your ears you could only vaguely make out shouting between Red Riot and someone else still inside the building. It was all intelligible until he turned to you and the victims. The last words you heard was look away, or at least you assumed.

You weren’t interested in waiting around to find out so you shut your eyes tight and turned away from the scene as best as you could.

At first nothing happened. But after a beat, you felt your eyes burn behind your eyelids as a blistering wave of heat surrounded you. You think you screamed, but you weren’t entirely sure. Every muscle in your body tensed as the bench shook underneath you, threatening to break.

But as quickly as it came, it passed. You couldn’t tell how long you had been trapped in that position, clutching your knees to your chest with your eyes sealed shut. A warm hand shook you out of position, jostling your eyes open.

When your eyes finally adjusted, blocking your vision of the cafe was none other than a tall silhouette, and familiar red eyes.

“Hey, stay with me, Princess. You hurt?”

You felt calloused hands hastily press against your body, examining you for injury. He took a hold of your ankle, easing you into extending. “Anything?”

Shaking your head, you gripped onto him as he lifted you from the bench to your feet, steadying you with strong arms.

“Happy Halloween,” you managed to mutter meekly into his chest.

You felt him shudder beneath your head as he laughed, surprisingly heartily.

“Certainly one you’ll remember.” His low voice resonated in your brain, calming whatever nerves were remaining. “Let’s get you home, m’kay?”

You let him navigate you back to your apartment surprisingly deftly given your shaky directions, until finally you found yourself thanking him at your doorstep and shutting the door behind you.

Now that you were home and given a chance to breathe, you weren’t sure what was real. Everything mixed together in a blur and you couldn’t tell if it was all a dream or not.

As you groggily slumped against your bed, you felt something soft bundle against your back. Sitting up, you reached behind your back to feel the cool fabric of the black jacket you had been holding tightly against yourself. Embroidered on the sleeve were a pair of initials you hadn’t noticed before.

B.K.

With a strange pounding in your chest, you pulled out your phone.

Sure enough, you had one new notification.

@DynamightOfficial followed you back

The device buzzed in your hand with a second notification. A direct message request alongside an image. Swiping to your messages, you opened the text from your new follower.

Front and center was a quick photo of Bakugou’s hero costume, laid out neatly on his bed. Directly underneath the image were two small text bubbles.

u take commissions?

ive got something in mind for ya

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

I saw Charlie was on your list and screamed! (get it?) I would love Charlie secretly having sex with the popular school princess after she got sorely dumped by her popular boyfriend. They can wear cute matching halloween costumes and get caught together on the couch by Kirby. She is the only of her friend who wouldn't make too much fun of her

Some late (slightly) spooky vibes with Charlie. There is not enough fics about him *crying*

Warnings: mention of cheating, secret meetings

—

While everyone thought you were heartbroken after getting cheated on by Trevor, you were having the best time bouncing on Charlie Walker’s cock. You and him were an unusual match — the popular princess and the history geek —, but you worked. 

It all began two weeks ago when you and Trevor got into an argument in his truck. He was supposed to take you to his place since his parents were out of town for the weekend, but when he stopped for gas on the way there, he left his phone unlocked and you saw a new message coming in from ‘Tamara🍑’ — a fucking nude. You confronted him about it and he called you out for invading his privacy and snooping through his phone when it was his fault for leaving his phone unlocked and sexting with other girls behind your back. Because apparently, there was more than one. 

What a piece of shit. 

Between the heated voices and the tears, Trevor stopped the truck and told you to get out…on the side of the road. Thankfully, you knew where you were, but it wasn’t less shitty of him to dump you on the street like that. 

You tried to call Kirby, but it went to voicemail. Where was she? And to make the situation worse, your phone was running low on battery. 

It was shortly after that Charlie found you. He was walking home from Robbie’s and found you sitting on the curbside, crying.  It was dark and difficult to see, but he knew it was you. He recognized your pink socks peeking out of your sneakers. 

He approached you slowly, coming to a stop beside you, and looked down at your tear stained face. “Uh, hey…You alright?” Charlie knew it was a stupid question. You were clearly upset, but he asked anyway.

‘’I think Trevor and I just broke up,’’ you said simply. 

‘’What happened?’’ he asked, not really caring but willing to be the ear or shoulder you needed. Charlie would do anything to get close to you. 

You hesitated. You would have preferred to talk to your best friend about this, but Kirby wasn't picking up your calls. Charlie was just your table neighbor from Spanish class, but he was right there. 

‘’I caught him sexting other girls.’’ 

Disbelief and anger crossed Charlie’s face. You said girls in plural, as in more than one. 

He shook his head slightly, looking at you with sympathy, and sat down next to you on the curb. ‘’Fucking asshole.’’ 

You couldn’t agree more. 

Charlie pulled his sleeve up in his hand, carefully wiping the tears off your face. His hand lingered on your chin for a moment before letting his arm fall back to his side. “If you were my girlfriend, I could never cheat on you. You’re the prettiest girl in this shithole.”

His kind words caused a blush to form on your face. You’ve never really paid attention to Charlie before. All you knew about him was that he was president of the Woodsboro Cinema Club, which Kirby was part of. You’ve also been to last year’s Stab-a-thon with her. It was your first time seeing Stab. You remember Charlie sitting next to you and telling you all sorts of facts about the movie. It was sweet of him, and surprisingly interesting. 

When you were in her car, Kirby pointed out that he’s been crushing on you for a long time.  

You didn't remember how it happened, but you kissed Charlie. Maybe it was because you were hurt and needed comfort, or maybe it was because you needed to feel loved after finding out Trevor’s side girls. If he was sexting with other girls, he clearly didn't love you enough. So, you decided to find affection from someone who would give it to you. It was wrong to take advantage of Charlie’s feelings, to use him to make yourself feel better, but your heart was hurting and it was clouding your judgment.

Charlie was stunned when your lips touched his. He didn't think he would ever get a chance with you. Popular girls never fall for the geeks. That only happens in rom-coms. But here you were, kissing him and grabbing the front of his hoodie to pull him closer.

As you kissed, he could feel the damp streaks of your tears on your cheeks, and smell the sweet vanilla of your perfume. He let you pull him like a puppet, just happy that you were kissing him and finally giving him the attention he’s been dreaming of for so long…even if it was just you needing comfort.  

You took comfort to another level when you followed Charlie to his house and asked him to take you to his bed. He should have pushed you away and offered to walk you home, but his dick was so hard and straining against his pants from the feeling of your tits pressing against his chest.  

After that night, you started seeing each other regularly.  

Despite his lack of experience, Charlie was a good listener and a quick learner. He was sweet and funny…and a little bit of a freak too. He let you do things Trevor would never have, like letting you on top and taking full control, or putting a finger up his ass. It sounded unpleasant, but Charlie never came faster. You were both shocked. 

Tonight was the Halloween party at Kirby’s. You usually were not that excited for Halloween, but you couldn’t wait to see Charlie’s reaction to your costume. The horror movie nerd in him will love it. You spent the day helping her put out decorations and made spooky snacks. Cooking was not your best talent, but the mummy dogs and graveyard brownies were looking good. 

‘’Laurie Strode?’’ Kirby said with a frown when she saw you later that night, dressed in  a blue shirt and a blond wig. ‘’Since when do you watch horror movies?’’

‘’I’m not a fanatic like you, but I do watch some of them,’’ you corrected, making yourself a drink and taking one of the graveyard brownies. 

Skeptical, Kirby hummed, and bit the head off a green sour patch kids. ‘’Charlie!’’ she called toward the living room. ‘’I think I found your other half!’’ 

Your heart started pounding in your chest, thinking you had been discovered by Kirby, but she actually meant your costumes. You were Laurie Strode and he was…Michael Myers. 

With a drink in one hand, Charlie Walker entered the room. He raised his eyebrows as soon as he saw you, a smile forming on his face. Your shirt was visibly too small and tight around the chest, which triggered mental visuals of what was underneath. 

‘’Not babysitting tonight?’’ he asked, trying to compose himself. Even after a few weeks of being together, he still got a little flustered around you.  

You shook your head. ‘’No one needed me, I guess.’’ 

‘’Just because you’re off duty doesn’t mean I won’t stab you tonight.’’ Charlie took a sip of his beer, hoping it would make you laugh. 

You did laugh, as a matter of fact. It was a dorky joke, but his delivery was charming enough to amuse you. 

‘’Do you want to take a picture,’’ you asked, pulling out your phone. 

Charlie nodded and you posed as your characters — you screaming while he attempted to stab you. It wasn’t strange for you to get close to him, and to be touchy — you’ve touched each other a lot more intimately —, but the other people at the party were surprised to see you both socializing with each other. To their knowledge, you and Charlie only knew each other through mutual friends. The complicity and the comfortableness between you should not have been there. 

After taking pictures, Olivia snatched you away from him and began telling you about the guy she just made out with but was now avoiding because she didn’t want him to think he had a chance with her. You felt bad for leaving Charlie like that, but you couldn’t tell Olivia you were talking to him because she would have asked questions. You didn’t want to deal with her judgment. She may be your friend, but she would judge you for having sex with Charlie. 

The only person who wouldn’t judge you too much is probably Kirby. 

But you liked having a secret affair with Charlie. It was something that was only yours. A part of your life you didn’t share with anyone. 

You crashed on the couch with a tired yawn as the house started to empty out. The party had been fun, but after hours of loud music and chatter, the sudden quiet felt like a welcome relief. You took the tv remote and flipped through the channels. It’s Halloween night, there must be something good on. 

Ah, Nightmare on Elm street. 

Settling back into the cushions, you tried to catch up with the scene on the tv. The movie was only fifteen minutes in, so it shouldn't be too hard to follow. 

‘’The reboot isn't half as bad as people make it out to be,’’ a voice chimed in from behind. 

You glanced up to see Charlie leaning over the back of the couch. A smile curled on your lips, pleased to see him. You assumed he had left with Robbie. 

‘’The lead acting sucked, the CGIs were horrible, the kills were nothing new, and come on, Krueger was already a child killer, it was unnecessary to make him a child rapist too—’’ Charlie went on.

You shot him a glare. ‘’Don’t spoil the whole movie! I’ve never seen it.’’ 

Charlie’s expression changed. ‘’Are you serious?! Never?’’ He stepped around the couch and flipped through Kirby’s DVD collection under the tv. It was small, but he knew she had the Nightmare on Elm street box set. ‘’We’re fixing that right now. You must watch the original. This is garbage compared to it.’’

‘’But you just said it wasn’t bad,’’ you said, quirking an eyebrow in confusion.

Charlie looked over his shoulder, correcting you. ‘’That’s not what I said. I said it isn't half as bad as people make it out to be. Not that it was great.’’

He set the disc in the DVD player, then sat with you on the couch.

You were quickly captivated by the movie, your eyes never leaving the tv screen as you watched Freddy torment these teenagers in their dreams — well, nightmares. The character of Freddy looked different from the one in the remake, and Charlie explained that it was because it wasn’t Robert Englund under the makeup. 

When you got to the scene where Glen overheard Tina and Rod having sex in Tina’s parent’s bedroom, Charlie shifted on the couch. The scene was over thirty seconds, and hearing moanings while sitting next to you was making his mechanic suit feel tight in the crotch area. At his house, he would have made a move, but you were at Kirby’s. She could come in at any moment. 

His shifting got your attention. You looked at Charlie, who was staring at the tv with a clenched jaw, and immediately figured what was happening. He was terrible at hiding that he was turned on. Mischief in your eyes, you couldn’t resist having a little fun. Quietly, you moved your hand towards his thigh.

Charlie’s body stiffened automatically as he felt your hand on his thigh. He was hoping you didn’t notice how he was getting hard, but it was too late for that now. 

He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, but then you moved your hand higher. ‘’Stop,’’ he muttered through gritted teeth, covering your hand with his. ‘’Kirby—’’

‘’She’s not here. Everyone’s gone home.’’ 

‘’It’s her house. She’s somewhere.’’ 

You sighed. ‘’Then, let’s go somewhere else.’’

—

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[redflagshipwriter]

Halfa Cass 9 pt 1

masterpost

The first thing Danny did when he woke up was blink to focus on his breath. Nothing was visible. He vaulted up from his sprawl across the couch and prowled around the apartment, unnerved.

It felt like someone was here, or had been here. It was subtle, but there was a ghostly touch in the area. There shouldn’t be. He had confirmed that no one was haunting this building before they moved in. City ghosts tended to stay in their personal environment, whether that was sitting on a recliner in the apartment they’d died in or forever running a route in a ghostly version of the delivery van they’d worked in for decades. 

He investigated in increasingly paranoid detail, even daring to flick on a bit of smuggled Fenton tech to wave around in search of ecto.

“Whoever came by is gone,” Danny admitted. He stood in the middle of the dinky open plan apartment for a while feeling lost. Then the energy rush left him. He rubbed at his eyes and stretched a little, trying to work up a little bit of enthusiasm for the day. 

It was a Friday morning, not quite 5 am. Damn. He’d really adjusted his sleeping schedule. Jazz would be back from her overnight shift soon.

“I should make her breakfast,” Danny said, half-heartedly hoping that saying it aloud would magically compel and energize him. It didn’t. He eventually shuffled to the kitchen nook, pushed by duty and not any kind of internal motivation.

Jazz was the only one with a semi-legit identity. They hadn’t been able to pay for papers for both of them. Even though he was making the bulk of their money, they were pretty sure that Jazz needed some kind of legal justification for her income. 

Employment options were limited. Without qualifications, she was pretty much only looking at customer service, where hundreds of people would see her face every day. That was a nerve wracking prospect when they were hiding. They were serious enough about restarting that they had both trashed their lifelong career dreams. Jazz was studying friggin’ bridges and whatever, civil engineering. Danny didn’t even know what he would do when it was his turn to get a formal education.

So. Obviously. Standing in front of hundreds of people daily was not the best option for their desired level of anonymity.

Luckily, Gotham had a shitty fast food chain where the gimmick was that the employees were in costume. So Jazz had crammed her class load into Monday-Thursday and she worked overnight Thursday to Saturday nights every week, serving burgers up in a full face mask as a Black Bat. 

He decided to start with coffee. That might help.

Danny filled the water tank, put a filter in, and poured coffee beans in. Then he groaned, took the beans out, and resentfully put them into the dumb hand grinder. He put the powder back into the filter, pressed the button, and watched as nothing happened.

It took a while to notice that nothing was happening.

Jazz came home at 5:22, bringing with her a cloud of fry oil scent. He vaguely heard the door unlock and her kick off her shoes. She paused when she saw the disassembled coffee maker on their table. The old Jazz would have scolded him for making a mess where they ate. The high school version of her would have sighed about the mess.

The exhausted food service version of Jazz took it in stride. “I grabbed food,” she said. “Come on, couch.” She opened a cupboard door and took something out on tiptoes before shutting it near-silently. She put the food down to duck into the bathroom and take out her brown colored contacts.

Danny grunted. A few seconds later her words reached his brains. He blinked. “Right. Thanks,” he said belatedly. He put down his tools and washed his hands. “Should I grab utensils?” he called. He heard the sound of relief as Jazz sat on the couch, off her aching feet. 

“Yes, please.”

He yanked open the drawer, unintentionally making things clatter. Danny winced at the volume and picked out two forks. He grabbed a roll of paper towels and headed over to see what Jazz had brought home. 

She had two styrofoam boxes, clearly from a diner and not Batburger. Fair enough. They were both sick to death of their menu. 

Danny’s box had two pancakes, scrambled eggs, and a side of bacon. He glanced over to see that Jazz had the same thing with sausage instead of the bacon. The syrup was already on the coffee table.

The smell hit him like a freight train. Suddenly, Danny was ravenous. He tore through his eggs and bacon and then went for the syrup, drowning the pancakes. When he was done he put the box down with a sigh of relief and looked over to see that Jazz was slouching, hand thrown over her face. “Long day?” he asked.

Jazz groaned. “Leave me to die,” she begged. She slumped a little more, encroaching into his half of the sofa. Her dull brown hair coiled on the sofa cushion, dryer than it had ever been back in Amity.

Danny took the hint that she wanted the couch. He gathered up their trash and went back to the kitchen. He worked as quietly as he could on the coffee machine and wished his sister was home and awake more. 

If life was just like this, sort of hard but the two of them pulling together, it would be kind of…nice. There was a domestic fantasy element.

But the outside world was going to intrude. Danny put the coffeemaker together and then set it to run. While it worked, he went to the shitty plastic dresser that held his work clothes and changed into his underlayer of t-shirt and soft jogging pants. He stuffed a heavy jacket and thick jeans into a plastic bag and then put that in his work bag. He didn’t want to be late for work. Like, really didn’t want to be late for work. His supervisor coming to find him and meeting Jazz had featured in more than one nightmare. The people he worked for were just plain scary. Danny zipped his bag shut and then poured the entire pot of coffee into his thermos for the day. 

“I’m going,” he called quietly, on the off chance that Jazz was still awake. And then he left to see what the local gang needed built this week.

[lexithwrites]

my first ever lil bakudeku so go easy on me (teacher midoriya x pro hero bakugo)

"Okay, I think that's a good place to finish on for now. Oh! And don't forget your hero costumes guys, you have training at Ground Beta with some of the pros next, so please behave and show them respect!" Izuku smiled as his students started to pack up in front of him, ready to get out and use their Quirks after sitting through yet another one of his long, detailed ramblings. 1-B loved their homeroom teacher, they really did, but he didn't always know when to slow down and breathe when he got talking. Plus, they'd get in trouble if he took too much time and kept on talking after the first bell.

"Thank you Mr. Midoriya." A slight girl with deep green skin and a shock of blue hair said to him, standing up from her seat in the first row. Izuku blushed a little, still not entirely used to the compliments he received as a teacher, and nodded at her in thanks.

"O-Of course! Have a good day, Aiko." She nodded back at him then hurried off with her hero costume case to join her friends. Izuku watched them all head out, smiling and waving as they filtered out into the busy corridor, then slumped into his chair with a deep sigh, tugging at his tie a little. He still got anxious that he wasn't doing his best at UA as a teacher, even though Mr. Aizawa always gave him nothing but praise. Well, Izuku supposed it was just Shota now, since they were no longer student and teacher themselves but now colleagues.

Izuku tilted his head to look at where his hand was laid flat on his desk. He flexed it, watching his scars gently move as he did so, and chewed on his lower lip. He missed it, that little crackle of energy in his veins from One For All. Sometimes...sometimes he wished he could see that green lightning again, but he'd shake his head and try to forget. He couldn't focus on that anymore, he had much more important things to do. Like grade papers. He groaned, loudly. "How did Mr. Aizawa do this every day?"

"No clue, since he had me to deal with." Izuku jumped in his seat and turned his head towards that oh so familiar voice. Katsuki, or Pro Hero Dynamight since he was currently wearing the costume, was leaning on his shoulder in the doorway of the classroom; arms folded and a smirk on his lips. Izuku's eyes widened and he rushed over to him, tugging him inside before hastily shutting the door.

"What are you doing here?! Did the kids see you?"

"Nah, they'd probably beg for my autograph if they did. Or run in the opposite direction." Katsuki smiled and Izuku relaxed a little. "Aizawa asked me, I'm training with them, Mirko and Jeanist today."

"You didn't tell me that!" Izuku huffed, poking Katsuki's shoulder with a frown. "Why not?"

"Thought I'd surprise you, and I'm glad I did. You look tense as hell. Bad homeroom?"

"No." Izuku sighed and walked over to his desk again to lean on the edge. "I just...I was talking too much again."

"You say that like you hate talking, I usually can't get you to shut up." Katsuki raised an eyebrow. "Did one of the kids say something?"

"No." There was a pause. "I could tell they were bored."

"Who cares? We were bored during most of Aizawa's shitty presentations and he knew that, don't take any notice of 'em. They're idiots."

"Kacchan, they're teenagers."

"Exactly, we were idiots at their age too." Katsuki snorted and walked over to where Izuku was leaning, a hand going to his waist on instinct. Once he realised what was happening, Izuku peered over Katsuki's broad shoulders to the door and swallowed.

"No one saw you?" He asked again and Katsuki rolled his eyes. "Kacchan."

"I was quiet as a mouse, like I always am." He teased, squeezing Izuku's hip in a way that made him shiver. Izuku cleared his throat.

"Training isn't for another hour or so, you came early."

"Mhm." Katsuki's eyes weren't on Izuku's, they were lower down. Focused on his lips.

"You were lucky you didn't get seen by the students, they'd freak out if they saw a top five hero at UA just walking around."

"I didn't just come here for them, dumbass." Katsuki leaned a little closer, trapping Izuku between him and the desk. Naturally, Izuku spread his legs to accommodate him, and Katsuki hummed. "You'll come watch me train them, right?"

"Course I will. I wouldn't miss it." His hands went to Katsuki's biceps, resisting the urge to squeeze them, feel the muscle under his fingers. "We barely have an hour—"

"There's a lot we can do in an hour." Katsuki whispered, nose brushing Izuku's before moving to his cheek, then his jaw. "Thought this was one of your freaky fantasies?"

"I—" Izuku stumbled with his words, feeling Katsuki grin against his flushed, burning hot skin. "I was drunk when I said that! I didn't mean it!"

"Sure you didn't." He snorted and then gently grazed his lips over Izuku's pulse point. "No one's gonna come in here, are they? They're all getting ready. Come on, we have a little time."

Izuku pushed on his chest so he could see his face, and noticed how hot and bothered Katsuki looked. Izuku felt his chest bloom with emotion, with love, and he smiled. Knowing he could make Katsuki feel good, even just from this, made him feel proud. "Just kissing." Katsuki groaned but Izuku poked his cheek. "Just kissing."

"Fine. What about on your lunch break later?"

"You're insatiable!"

"I've got you," Katsuki scoffed, as if it were obvious. "Of course I am." Izuku just smiled and pulled him down against his lips.

Maybe a little more than kissing wouldn't hurt...

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

Sway Me Now

Billy Butcher Masterlist

Summary: For one mission, they have to work together. But after last time, can Butcher really trust her? As tension grows, they inevitably end up on the dance floor and have to dance to keep their cover. And right there, all the anger turns into something else. Can they really finish up the mission now? Pairing: Billy Butcher x F!Reader Rating: 18+ Warning: implied smut but nothing explicit, The Boys level of violence, ennemy to lovers, tension, sexual tension, anger, dancing, fighting Word Count: 3946 ​​ A/n: This fic was requested by @mightyhemsworthy​! So sorry it took so long!

Don’t forget to leave a feedback!

It wasn't his idea. Truth was, he was completely and irrevocably against it. But Hughie had the annoying capacity to convince everyone, including him. As soon as he used his secret weapon, his puppy eyes, everyone flinched.

"It's a shitty idea," he repeated for the hundredth time. Running his hand slowly through his beard, Butcher looked in the mirror to observe himself from all angles. He hadn't worn anything this fancy in so long.

The costume was very beautiful, there was no doubt about it. The black fabric was soft to the touch, a little reflective, showing its expensive price. The white button up shirt was a little tight so Butcher didn't hesitate to untie his bow tie to loosen a button.

"Who would have thought you could rock a suit."

Butcher closed his eyes and let out a long, telling sigh. That voice, he could never forget it.

"Who the fuck let you in, luv?"

His eyes still closed, Butcher turned to face the woman who haunted his nights… Both in a good and in a bad way.

"The little guy with the blue eyes. He's the one that called me and begged me to come here for your shitty plan."

Butcher's lips twitched in an uncomfortable spasm. Why did it have to be her, out of all the possible choices?

"Not. My. Plan," Butcher finally opened his eyes to place them on the woman in front of him. And for once, he was glad he could keep an unfazed face in any situation, because the view in front of him...

Y/n was leaning against the door frame. Her silhouette illuminated by the light behind her made her look like an angel… but he knew the demon hidden behind her beauty. She wore a red dress so tight, the fabric looked and probably felt like a second skin. The length came below her knees, but there was a slit on the side that went up to her hip, exposing her leg. Butcher couldn't help but stare at that bare part, exposed flesh that made him salivate. After long seconds of impossible scenarios passing through his mind, he managed to raise his eyes. The top of the dress was low cut just enough to show off her assets but also hid some to leave room for the imagination.

To finish up her look, her hair was curled and tied in a bun, small strands falling on either side of her face.

So lost in the contemplation of the woman in front of him, Butcher didn't immediately notice that she was doing the same to him. Her eyes roamed up and down her body, burning and interested in the sight.

He wasn't used to being looked at like that. Not in a long time, at least. Feeling himself losing control over her expressions, Butcher cleared her throat to bring the focus back to what was important and what she was there for. The mission.

Y/n was biting her lip in interest when he spoke.

"Did Hughie tell you his plan?"

-

“Alright. So the target’s name is Edmundo Rodriguez. I texted you a picture.”

Sitting at the bar, Butcher was sipping a nice glass of strong whiskey when M.M's voice rang loudly in his ear. By reflex, he tried to remove the piece from his ear, but a hand was faster and stopped him.

“We got the picture,” the person next to him muttered discreetly against her wrist, her silver bracelet hiding the microphone allowing her to communicate with the base of operations. The truck was parked further on the road outside the manor, M.M and Hughie ready to guide them if necessary. Y/n slid the phone on the counter by his drink so Butcher glanced at it quickly.

“That motherfucker looks like all the other motherfucking in here, how the hell are ye gunna find him, eh?” 

“I don’t care how you do!” M.M's voice once again sounded loudly in his ear. Butcher grimaced. He definitely hated this plan. Hated the mission. “Just do it. Target should be in the VIP section.”

“Sure thing, we just need to get in there now, do we?”

Turning his head to the left and then the right, Butcher mentally noted everything around him again. The room was full of people, cocktails in hand, dancing, talking and laughing out loud. A real bunch of money cows, good at milking the poor to fill their pockets. And they called that event a charity gala? It stank of scam.

The phone disappeared from the counter as Y/n grabbed it. Butcher followed the gesture and watched her put it back in her bag. Again, his breath got caught in his throat at the beauty of the woman next to him, and his frustration grew.

“Are you gonna stop being a baby for one night?” She sighed, turning to him completely. After crossing one leg above the other, she leaned against her hand, her elbow against the counter. She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly judging him with her gaze.

“Only when you’ll stop being a greedy bitch,” Butcher replied, mimicking her posture to face her as well. He grabbed his glass and put it to his lips, but decided not to drink from it at the last second. “Why are you even here eh? We don't need ya, like we didn't need ya last time either.”

"Oh, if that's how you say thank you, then fuck you!" Straightening slightly, Y/n swiveled towards the bar to order a drink, but Butcher interrupted her.

“I won’t say thank you, hun, not after what you did last time.”

“You’re still mad about that!” 

This time, the two were face to face, standing on their feet, their faces so close they could feel each other’s body heat.

“I’ll always be mad that you betrayed us and joined the fucking enemy.”

The only reason she could answer him at the same height was the 4 inch heels that adorned her feet. “You know why I did that!” Noticing she was raising her voice, Y/n looked around. Her gaze wandered behind Butcher for a moment, then she grabbed his arm to pull him even closer to her. “Now's not the fucking time. I'm there, like it or not,” she whispered, her face so close he could admire every detail of her beautiful eyes. “The guards are looking at us, we're making a scene and getting too much attention so you’re gonna shut up and follow my lead.”

Butcher had no time to protest or answer, he was being dragged on the dance floor. Once they were in the middle, Y/n looked to the left where the guards were and Butcher followed her gaze discreetly. Indeed, three men were staring intently at them. Cursing himself for accepting the mission, and more importantly, agreeing to go with her, Butcher didn’t notice the song had changed. He understood only when he felt his hands switch places to end up against a fabric that was soft to the touch. Turning his head in front of him, his eyes widened as he noticed he was now holding her waist.

“Follow my lead,” Y/n hissed through her teeth. Already, her hips were moving side to side and she was raising her arms to wrap them around Butcher's neck. Caressing the back of his head, she moved closer to him enough to press her chest against his torso. Still in shock of having her so close, Butcher didn't move. A strong pain in the foot brought him back to him with a choked moan of pain. "Sway me now!"

She was crushing his foot with her heel? Perfect! He was awake now.

Suavemente, bésame

Que quiero sentir tus labios

Besándome otra vez

Prior to The Boys, Butcher had been to many events that required dancing. To not embarrass and shame Becca, he had learned and practiced relentlessly. It had been a while now since his last dance, his body responding to the movements by remaining rather stiff, but it was enough. And the confused but satisfied expression of the woman in his arms confirmed he wasn’t too bad at it.

Cuando tú me besas

Me siento en el aire

Por eso cuando te veo

Comienzo a besarte

One foot in front of him, Y/n moved hers back and they repeated the movement a couple of times to the beat of the song, swaying their hips. Then, Butcher grabbed Y/n's hand, kissed it quickly before spinning her on herself several times. After a few turns, he grabbed her against him and helped her down to the ground by holding her hands. Y/n slid, one leg in front and the other behind as she did the splits. Applause sounded around them, but neither paid attention to their spectators. Once on the ground, Y/n stuck her legs together and Butcher spun her around to build momentum and lift her up. With a strong, precise movement, she seemed to fly through the air for a moment, her legs splitting again but in the air this time.

Y si te despegas

Yo me despierto

De ese rico sueño

Que me dan tus besos

Suavemente

Grabbing her by the waist, Butcher gently helped her land on her feet. Then, they pulled back, Y/n moving her hips and caressing her body as she kept her gaze on her partner. Pointing at him, she motioned for him to come closer, which Butcher did, a smile on the corner of his lips. Swaying, he advanced towards the young woman so that she ended up in his arms again. His hands rested on her waist again, but the heat had already risen too much, and his fingers wandered lower on her body, inviting her to sway her hips even more.

It was hot. Their bodies touched more often than they stayed apart. The two were sweating as the song struggled to finish. The 4 minutes of the song felt like an eternity, but soon, that eternity was over. The song ended as Butcher rocked Y/n backward against his arm. Her hair, surprisingly still in her bun even after the dance, tickled his arm. Her back was arched perfectly and he was holding one of her legs with his other hand.

The sound of their rapid breathing filled the room full of people watching them, but it felt like there were only two left in the world. Nothing existed anymore, nothing could reach them in the bubble they were in. The tension was palpable, the dancing had warmed them both up in a way they hadn't expected. Of course, Butcher knew how incredibly beautiful Y/n was. And sexy. Fuck, she was so hot. But that moment they had lived... It felt more than that.

Butcher stared at Y/n's lips with one longing...

His face moved closer and closer to hers, and she didn't do anything to stop him. He could feel her breath on his lips, feel the fruity scent of her lip gloss tickle his nose, they were so close… when a round of applause startled him.

Butcher was getting his dance partner back on her feet when a voice rang in his ear.

“Nice way to get attention, well done.” He had no idea how they saw the dance back in the truck, but they knew and it made Butcher lose focus once more.

Y/n was faster than him and leaned over to salute and thank the crowd. Butcher did the same, and then the band resumed the songs and people started talking as if nothing had happened.

Time seemed to slow down as the dance looped through his head. People talked to him, but he didn’t listen to any of them. He could almost taste them, her lips, feel their warmth on his… And he wanted to. So bad. God, he was screwed. He only hoped she didn’t notice how strong her hold was on him and how bad he wanted her. That would be fucking embarrassing.

"Y/n-" Butcher turned his head towards her, but she wasn't near him anymore. He blinked a few times and looked around, panic slowly rising in him. She was there and then, gone. Raising his watch to his mouth, Butcher let his fear pour out.

“M.M! I lost Y/n!”

“Relax,” the voice answered. “You spaced out for a while Butcher. She’s doing her job. Look towards the bar.”

A long sigh of relief escaped Butcher's lungs when he found the red dress among the people sitting at the bar. He was walking towards her when he finally noticed that she was not alone. Sitting next to her, a man was talking to her. Although he was far away and the man had his back turned to him, Butcher could still notice the smirk stamped on his face as he looked at her, his big stubby hand going up on Y/n's thigh. His dirty fingers slid through the slit of the dress to caress her leg… And that was his limit.

Butcher saw red. Not waiting a moment, he rushed to the bar, pushing the other guests around without worrying about attracting attention. He was almost there when a waiter stepped directly into his path.

“Un entrée vous ferait-il plaisir, monsieur?”

Butcher recognized his voice before realizing that the server was speaking French. “Frenchie, get out my way now.”

“Saw your little dance there, impressionnant,” Frenchie, disguised as a waiter, nodded. Of course, they had to send him inside in case something turned bad. That was how M.M knew about the dance, Frenchie had a great time describing what he was seeing. “But now’s not the time to screw your cover. Take a little pain crouté and let her work.”

“I don’t care about your food!” Drowning in his anger, Butcher's hand went off on its own and the plate filled with probably very expensive appetizers flew through the air to end on the floor in a deafening din. Of course, this caught everyone's attention, including the guards, the man at the bar, and Y/n. “Leave me alone Frenchie,” Butcher hissed through his teeth. Frenchie lowered his head, muttered something in French and left. Butcher was about to continue on his way to the bar when a hand landed on his chest to stop him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” Y/n whispered and glanced behind her where she had left the man. She quickly waved at him to let him know it would take her a moment and then turned to Butcher. “Why are you making a fucking scene!”

“Why are you flirting with the first guy you see, eh?!” Butcher clenched his fists, casting a hateful gaze toward the bar and the man.

"Are you fuckin-" Not finishing her sentence, Y/n grabbed Butcher by the wrist and led him out of the room. Once they were in an empty hallway, she stopped and turned to him. Certain she would only try to find more excuses for her actions, Butcher was surprised to see that look on her face.

Her beautiful eyes were sad, filled with overflowing tears. Her eyebrows were furrowed, clearly disappointed in his behavior. She let go of his wrist and Butcher felt the chill creep up his spine as she pulled the phone out of her bag to show him the photo.

“Why are you showing me the target again!” He exclaimed, raising his voice louder than he liked.

“Because I was with him at the bar! Are you blind?!”

“I knew it, you’re gunna go with the enemy again!” Clapping his hands over his head, Butcher was about to leave the mansion, fuck the mission, when a hand forced him to stay put.

“How can you think I would- I was seducing him to get the fucking key! Yanno, for the safe that contains the fucking documents we need to destroy Vought!”

Butcher lowered his hands. It was like his body weighed a ton and gravity was pulling him down. He hadn't thought of that. However, that didn't calm the anger he had been feeling ever since he saw her again.

“How do you want me not to think that after last time!” No matter how hard he tried to calm down, the anger and that negative feeling ate up inside him like an ever-growing black cloud.

Pain passed over Y/n's face. Her eyes filled with water again. No tears rolled down her cheeks though. 

“I had no choice…”

Her voice had become so quiet, he had difficulty understanding her. "What?"

“Last time. Monaco. I had no choice. They had my dad, and if I didn’t give them the documents…” Lowering her head, a lock of her bun finally fell over her eyes. “I didn’t want to… But I had to save my dad.” When she lifted her head, a single tear spilled out of her eye and started rolling down her cheek, but she wiped it away before it could sink too low.

“Why did you never tell me?” Butcher's voice was softer now. Although the betrayal was still fresh, he could understand. He would have done the same for Becca. He would betray his own team for the one he loved, no hesitation.

“Cause I failed that too,” she shrugged and smiled sadly. Her mouth opened to add something but her gaze shifted to the side and her eyes widened. "Oh shit."

“So that’s where you were, Cariño…” Butcher closed his eyes, a silent “fuck” mimed on his lips. Turning slowly, he got face to face with the man from the bar, the target, Edmundo Rodriguez. And he wasn’t alone. Three guards accompanied him, all armed with weapons. Edmundo shook his head and sighed. “What a shame it has to end before I can own you.” Butcher could feel a shiver of disgust and hatred wash over him at those words. “Oh, you wanted this, perhaps?” Raising a hand, Edmundo passed it through his sweater to pull out a chain and at the end of the chain, a key. The one they needed. “You thought me stupid. Tried to rob me. But who’s dumb now eh? Corpses don’t do well in stealing. Kill them.”

“Oh fuckin finally some action I’m good at.” Butcher smiled darkly. As the guards closed in on them, Butcher pulled off his far too expensive jacket and grabbed the gun hidden behind his back to point it at the nearest guard. However, he was already in front of him and with a quick swing, disarmed Butcher. His weapon fell to the ground and slid away much to the dismay of the man who took a punch in the face. His whole body twisted from the force of the hit and his mouth filled with blood. "Oh. You shouldn’t have done that.” Turning his head towards the guard, Butcher offered a bloody smile that made him take a few steps back. The guard had fear shining in his eyes… Even if he was the one with the gun. "Oh, don't be scared," Butcher was still smiling. 

It happened so quickly, the guard didn't stand a chance. Butcher grabbed him by the sweater with one hand, the other grabbed the wrist that held the gun, and in a strong and precise movement, headbutted him right in the nose. 

A crack was heard, followed by a scream.

Clearly stunned by the hit, the guard staggered and he put a hand to his face. Butcher took the opportunity to hit his knee with his feet, a strong and precise kick that bent his leg at an angle that shouldn't be possible. More cracks and yells of pain were heard. The guard fell to the floor screaming, his gun falling from his hand, and Butcher didn't hesitate to press his foot against his throat and pressed. Purple slowly crept into the guard’s face as he squirmed under the boot, trying to get free and get oxygen. But Butcher didn’t let go.

A gunshot sounded so close to his ear that Butcher had the instinct to duck, but the bullet missed its target. Looking behind him, he could see that the fight wasn’t over. One of the guards was pointing his gun at him, and if he missed the first shot, he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Butcher was ready to drop to the ground, praying the bullets would miss him, but it wasn't necessary. Because one moment the guard was standing with a gun pointed at Butcher, and the next he was falling on the floor with a knife stuck in his throat. A few feet away from him stood Y/n, the covered side of her leg raised to show a belt filled with small knives strapped to her thigh.

"That's hot," Butcher couldn't help but say as Y/n picked up another knife and threw it at the last guard. Since the guard was busy dealing with knives being thrown at him, Butcher could pick up the gun the guard dropped, but it was unnecessary. Because one second later, Y/n skilfully jumped on the guard to stab him in the throat until he fell to the ground, motionless and choking in his own blood.

“Where’s Edmundo?” She asked, straightening her dress as if nothing had happened. She was barely disheveled, no cuts or wounds and above all, no drop of blood was on her person.

“I don’t care.”

Leaving the gun on the floor since he didn’t need it anymore, Butcher took the few steps that separated him from Y/n to immediately place his hands on her waist and pressed his lips to hers. It took her breath away, both with the force and the surprise of the intense kiss. She didn’t wait a second to respond, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. A low moan echoed in his ears as he slammed her against the wall, their lips parting just long enough for her to jump up and wrap her legs around his hips. "You're so fuckin hot," Butcher sighed and without waiting, brought his lips to hers again. One of his hands was used to support her while the other did not hesitate to slide under the slit of the dress to caress and grip her thigh.

The kiss was wild and filled with a longing and frustration that the two constantly felt. So needless to say, it only took a few moments for Butcher to undo his pants just enough to have access to what he needed.

-

Meanwhile, a French waiter who didn’t really have his place in this kind of event had intercepted a panicked person who was running towards the guardhouse. With a quick kick and a precise punch, he knocked him down, dragged him to a quiet place, bound and gagged him and finally, stole his key. Proud of himself for getting the key, he started searching for the two people under cover to tell them the good news. The mission was over, they had to leave before someone realized what happened.

After a while of searching, Frenchie finally found them…

Right in the middle of the hallway, caught up in an activity he wished he had never seen.

“Ah! Non, non non non! Not today! I’ll wait in the car!” Frenchie started to walk away, both hands raised in despair. But as the moans reached his ears, he cringed and shouted without turning back: “No, better than that, when you are done, just call a taxi! Au revoir!”

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa @wickedinspirations @fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore

[tteokdoroki]

𑊡˚+₊🍼✦ — sentimental sewing + katsuki bakugou.

૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — fluff, sfw, gn!reader and another domestic katsuki thought for you, he’s good at sewing hehe <3!

being an only child meant that bakugou picked up a lot of random little habits and hobbies to fill up his time — especially when he felt alone. the kids at school weren’t really his friends, they only liked him for his quirk, that he was strong, talented. in truth, katsuki preferred his loneliness compared to faux company of others.

instead of playing out in the sunshine, katsuki would sit by his mother’s feet when she worked from home— piecing together and designing gowns or three piece suits or ambiguous tricks to be worn by famous pro heroes to galas and charity events— sometimes, just because they wanted something nice to wear. mitsuki was a highly sought after designer and seamstress, and katsuki picked up on a lot of her skills just from watching— observing, strategising.

“do you want to try, katsuki?” the elder bakugou had asked him one evening, her hand in his soft blonde hair as she’d passed him his own set of needles and a patch of spare fabric for him to work on. he was much too young to help her with a commissioned gown. “watch yer ma carefully, okay, my love? then you can try again on your own.”

no one would have ever guessed that katsuki bakugou was good at sewing or stitching.

over the years he would patch up his own hero costume after training or a gnarly run in with villains— katsuki was sentimental, he blew up a lot of his own shit but his hero costume was somewhat important to him. he didn’t want it to be replaced. he’d used those skills to stitch himself up when first aid was too hard to get to on covert missions— nothing but a leather belt between his pointed teeth and a needle sterilised with alcohol. mitsuki’s skills had saved his life a few times, he’d be forever grateful to the hag for all of that.

being able to use a needle and thread meant saving money on gifts— or at least that’s what katsuki called it. he’d spend ages embroidering little handkerchiefs or sewing patches onto items he knew his newer and better friends from UA would cherish. they all knew about the blonde’s secret talent, holding back their squeals as they squished him between them all whenever he mumbled.

“i didn’t make it, s’just a stupid customised gift. now get off’a me b’fore i blow your head off!”

but deep down inside, bakugou was pleased to know he could make something of sentimental value for the people he loved— even if it was small, it was thoughtful. he liked that.

“katsuki,” you warble, eyes brimming with tears when you come to bed one night— weakly holding up a scarf he’d gotten you to soothe the chill after one of your first and earlier dates. “‘m sorry!”

you and bakugou had been together for years, finding yourself falling fast and hard after he wound up in your care at the hospital— on the one time his handy little stitches had gotten a wound infected. “whas the matter with you, sweetheart?” he grunts, taking off his glasses and throwing his night time read aside. “you cryin’?”

“n-no…um, yeah? it’s kinda stupid? i wore the scarf you gave me today and i got caught on a stupid tree branch walking home and—?” you hiccup, seconds away from breaking down as you hold the piece of fabric out to your boyfriend. “there’s a hole in it? i swear i didn’t mean for it to happen— i just tried tugging it free and it ripped and—“ sniffling, a pathetic pout sits on your lips. “you got this for me ‘nd i’ve ruined it, i’m sorry kats.”

sentimental. you’re sentimental over a cheap and shitty scarf that bakugou had gotten you on a whim— so that he had an excuse to spend more time with you after your initial date had ended all those years ago. “give it here, I’ll fix it.” he grunts, hiding the flush on his cheeks before he takes the scarf from you and pokes a finger through the hole. “stop cryin’ and grab the sewing kit ma left in the study.”

nodding your head furiously, you do as you’re told with a watery smile and perch yourself on the edge of the bed next to your brooding boyfriend while he patches up your silly scarf with some old fabric and a few stitches. “i didn’t know you could sew, kats.” you breathe happily, clutching the material to your chest after inspecting the cute little embroidered heart katsuki had done all nicely for you. “it’s perfect, thank you.”

“all i did was patch it up sweetheart,” bakugou coos, leaning over your shoulder to brush a half hearted and sleepy kiss over your cheek. “ma taught me, s’how i fixed myself up all botched ‘n badly ‘n ended up in your emergency room, don’t you remember?” he loves the way you squeeze him closer, having sniffed your scarf and realised that it smells like your favourite thing. your favourite person. him.

you’re sentimental, not just with materialistic things, but with your partner. your lover, everything about him is cherished by you.

“i just thought you’d been an idiot, didn’t know you were this talented katsuki,” you say wistfully, allowing the blonde to pull you back into his arms.

[water-loos]

All American Bitch !

“I’ve got sun in my motherfucking pocket, best believe”

player!steve harrington x fem!reader

series masterlist ; next chapter

cw: college au, alcohol consumption, tipsy sexual acts, smut implied (fade to black), angst, swearing, steve’s a dick

wc: 3.5k

a/n: this is a very shitty first installment but i promise it’ll make sense eventually

You didn’t plan on going to any Halloween parties. You never did. You thought the holiday was stupid, and just an excuse to drop way too much money on multiple costumes that only covered about a third of your body.

But that little lacy white slip dress that you found in the racks of a thrift store last weekend fit you too perfectly.

And the angel wings that you used for a photo shoot in May had been sitting lonely in your closet for far too long.

And you did consider Romeo + Juliet to be your favorite movie of all time.

That’s how you found yourself climbing the steps of a brownstone just north of Chicago, your hair tied back into a pretty half-up-half-down hairdo. Your makeup was flawless, even with your pink cheeks due to the biting wind and the plethora of shots that your friends had fed you before the train ride up from the city. The party itself was pretty packed just inside the door, with a box TV playing Scream as people mingled right in front of the screen. You pushed your way through the mass of people into the dining room, where a pair of plastic tables with holes sawed in them for cups were manned by tens of people in various costumes.

You craned your neck to look for a way to the kitchen, which was down a long hallway that was probably the only open portion of the house. Your friend Alexandra trailed behind you, eyeing the pong table as you attempted to drag her with you.

“Do you just want me to get you a drink?” You sighed as she nearly got caught in the crowd once more. “You don’t have to come with if you don’t want to.”

“Can I stay? That guy in the Risky Business costume seems a little lonely at the table if you know what I mean,” She winked, squeezing your hand. You rolled your eyes and squeezed back, letting her go. She kissed your cheek joyfully before bouncing over to him, her fairy wings sparkling almost as much as the tinsel in her hair.

As soon as she bounded away, you turned on your heel to the hallway, pushing past a few couples that were making out against the wall to get into the tiny kitchen. The keg took up a decent amount of space in the corner, a stack of red solo cups perched on the windowsill next to it. The thought of putting beer anywhere near your body was enough to make you gag, so you pivoted to the corner, where a punch bowl, a bottle of Captain Morgan, and some more solo cups lay, glittery green liquid splashed everywhere.

Beer, or mystery punch.

Great.

You opted for a heavy pour of the white rum and two ladles of the green punch before you pushed your way back into the hallway, but took a sharp right toward the staircase and the basement, where the dance floor must have been.

That’s where you saw him.

Steve Harrington, hair perfectly coiffed and cheetah print vest hanging open over his too-tight white tee. You knew who he was— he was notorious across most of the Chicago colleges and universities, known for his looks and his kilowatt smile. You shared a few classes and tended to think he was an egotistical douchebag who didn’t know what he was talking about half the time.

But god did his arms look good enough to bite in that shirt.

One big gulp of the drink in your hand was enough to push you toward him, chin held high in the air as you sauntered in his direction, catching him just as the girl he was talking to walked off in search of another drink.

“Ferris Bueller,” You said, voice dipped in faux sugar. “How fitting, Harrington.”

“Juliet,” He immediately smiled down at you, his shoulder falling to rest on the wall beside the two of you. “To what do I owe the absolute pleasure of seeing you? I thought you weren’t really into Halloween.”

“I’m not normally,” You nodded, maintaining eye contact over your cup as you turned to let your back rest on the wall. “But this costume was just too cute to leave hanging in my closet, don’t you think?”

You watched with a smug smile as his eyes raked down your body, slowly taking you in. You could see his gaze catch on the body glitter you had applied along your chest and shoulders, a warm blush spreading across your cheeks as he hummed his approval. “Definitely. It’s a shame, though.”

You watched as he flicked your left wing, caging you against the wall. Unfazed, you looked up at him with doe eyes, lashes fluttering. “What’s a shame, Stevie?”

You watched his front crumble, a rosy blush spreading over his freckled cheeks. He was put under your spell way too easily, and you could almost feel his ego bruising as he gathered himself from the momentary pause. “It’s a shame that it’d look about ten times better on my bedroom floor.”

You were moving a little fast, but your impulse control was left back in your apartment, miles away. It’s almost like your body was moving quicker than your brain was. Your hand smoothed up the front of his vest, adjusting it against his tee. “D’you think about my clothes on your floor often, Stevie? I’m flattered.”

“More than you know, sweetheart,” He huffed, standing up straight and taking your free hand in his. “Let’s find somewhere more private, yeah?”

“You’re so cute when you’re eager,” You pouted, pounding back the rest of your drink, gracefully putting the cup down on the ground beside you. “You’ve gotta dance with me first, Harrington.”

You kept your fingers intertwined as you pulled him down the stairs and toward the dance floor, which was packed wall to wall with dancing people, with colorful strobe lights flashing across the room. You watched the boy chug the last of his beer and toss the crushed cup behind him, his body not far behind yours as you made your way to the center of the floor. The electric beat of a techno song that you couldn’t name bleated around you as you began to sway back and forth, eyes on the boy who had followed you. He looked downright delectable in this lighting— his skin almost glistened under the lights, his hair slightly tousled, and his chest heaving as he watched you.

You two didn’t last long on the dance floor.

Only two or three songs passed before you were tugged down the back hallway of the basement and pressed against the door of the hidden bathroom in the corner. Steve wasted almost no time in connecting your lips, the lingering taste of beer bitter on his tongue as it danced with your own. Your hands wandered across his shoulders and up to the curled ends at the back of his hair, tugging gently as he moaned softly into this kiss. His hands held one of your legs up around his hip while the other pushed at your lower back, leaving very little space between the two of you. Your head lolled against the wood behind you as his kisses trailed down your exposed neck, nipping soon-to-be lavender bruises down across the glittery skin.

“You know,” He huffed into your neck, gripping the soft skin of your hip. “Been waiting for you since you destroyed me in our debate project.”

“Oh I know, baby,” You breathed out a laugh as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot behind your ear. “D’you get off to that? Being shown up in front of everyone?”

He bit down harder then, enticing a squeal out of you. “Only when it’s you.”

You try not to scoff as he pulls back, watching your face. It’s evident that you don’t believe him, but he doesn’t say anything about it. “Oh really?”

“Really.”

You hum, tilting your head back up for another kiss as your hand trailed across the sliver of skin that peeked out between his white tee and his dark blue jeans. “You promise?”

His throat bobbed and his cheeks grew pink as he watched your hand dip lower and lower, fingertips ghosting over the obvious bulge in his pants. “Promise. On my life, sweetheart.”

You’d never seen Steve Harrington a nervous mess before, but you decided right then and there that it was your favorite version of him. It was easy to nudge him a little further into the room so his hips hit the counter of the vanity, and even easier to drop to your knees in front of him. He sighed at the sight of you, with big doe eyes and angel wings, staring up at him with your best innocent look.

“This okay?” You whispered, hands placed on the front of his thighs, waiting for his verbal confirmation. You watched as his chest heaved, and he nodded, but you shook your head. “Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear,” A hand, big against your face, came to cradle your cheek, his eyes dilated as he stared down at you. “Are you sure? You don’t have to…”

“I wouldn’t be on my knees if I didn’t want to, Stevie,” You snorted, one hand reaching up to pop the button of his jeans and slowly pull down the zipper. “Pinky swear.”

———————

You started seeing Steve around a lot more after that weekend. By mid-January, he suddenly had more friends in your apartment complex, he sat right beside you in all three of the classes you shared this semester, and he had taken it upon himself to walk you back to your apartment or the student center after every single one. Alexandra started to call him your shadow, and she had even started keeping a six-pack of Miller High Life’s in the fridge for him, just so he’d have something to drink and every pregame party your friends threw.

He spent most nights in your bedroom, actually.

He snuck in as soon as you heard Alex close her bedroom door and put on her LED lights, and he knew the code to get into your building by heart. He knew that your door squeaked, and he mastered exactly how to open it to make the least amount of noise. Most of the time he found you in bed, glasses and an oversized hoodie on, scrolling on your phone as you waited for him. Some nights, he’d crawl in beside you and ask you about your day, maybe he’d joke with you about how stupid your teacher was, or how he thought you did great on a presentation, and others he’d waste almost no time in pulling your phone from your hand and pinning you to your mattress.

Tonight had been the latter.

Most of the time it made you feel like shit when there was barely any greeting, even if he tried to make it up to you by taking you for a drive in his car. “Taking you for a drive” consisted of buying you a milkshake, asking you all of your deepest secrets, and then eating you out in the backseat of that goddamn maroon BMW. But, after months of the same thing, you felt like a milkshake was better than nothing.

You laid across the backseat, warm and almost cuddling into the hoodie you had stolen from him last week, and nothing covering your legs besides the panties he had so gently put back on your body. God forbid you made a mess of his leather seats. He was sitting on the end, hands tracing your face as you tried to steady your breathing and recover.

“Y’know, we should go to the library to study for that quiz this week,” He said, voice gravelly. “I’m a little worried with how little she’s preparing us.”

“Ooh, a location change,” You hummed, sarcasm whispering in your tone. “I‘ll go. When do you want to?”

His hand stilled. “What do you mean?”

Your chest tightened. “It’s a joke, Stevie. We just haven’t been to the library together before.”

He let his head lean back on his headrest, his face stilling. “You know that I don’t mean anything bad by that, right?”

“What, that we don’t really go anywhere together?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Oh, I don’t care,” You shrugged, lying through your teeth. “I like what we do together now. It’s like a nightly routine. Helps me sleep better.”

He chuckled and started to trace around your hairline again. “Really?”

“Yeah. Having my own personal radiator in my freezing apartment is heaven.”

He snorted, softly whacking your shoulder. “I’m not that hot.”

“Half of the student body would disagree with you.”

“Oh, come on. That’s not true.”

“Steve. Lying is not going to get you anywhere,” You sat up, scooting closer to face him. “I think you might want to look in a mirror. Besides, everyone knowing you’re hot doesn’t really bother me.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Why would it?”

You stop, taken aback. “I mean, I’m the one whose bed you’re in almost every night. Everyone else who drools over you doesn’t get that honor.”

Steve goes rigid, and you can tell something’s bothering him. You can tell by the way he refuses to make eye contact with you that whatever he’s thinking is not going to be very nice to you.

It’s silent for a moment.

“Just say it.”

“What?”

You reach onto the floor in front of you and slide on the sweatpants you had been wearing. You set your jaw and dare to look in his direction. “Say the thing you’re thinking about. Even if it’s going to make me upset. I’d rather you be upfront than sit here in silence, Steve.”

“We’re not together.”

“I know.”

“Then don’t talk about us like we are.”

Your chest squeezes.

“I don’t.”

“You literally just did.”

“Saying you’re in my bed every night doesn’t mean shit, Steve,” You scoff, grabbing the Converse you had haphazardly shoved on your feet on the way out and pulling them on. “I was just stating the truth. You’re the one who texts me for our nightly booty call, remember?”

“And you always answer. C’mon, sweetheart,” He almost whines, reaching over to turn you back toward him. “You’re not a booty call. You never have been.”

“Then what am I, Steve? Your friend?” You bite back, pulling your arm from his gentle grasp.

“No. You’re not just a friend, you know that,” He says, watching mournfully as you open the back door and step out of the car. Your cheeks are still warm from the orgasm he’d pulled from you almost twenty minutes ago.

“Yeah, I’m your fuck buddy who’s at your every beck and call. I know what I am, Steve,” You scoff and close the door behind you as he quickly pops out of the opposite side. Your hand pulls on the passenger side, opening it, but still addressing him over the car. “I’m not fucking stupid, in case you’ve already forgotten.”

“When you say it like that it sounds bad.”

“Steve, you literally have done nothing tonight but walk into my room, fuck me, buy me a consolation milkshake, and then fuck me again in your car. You don’t even know anything about me,” You snap, hand white-knuckle gripping the door. “What’s my favorite color? What’s my favorite food? The cat that curls at your feet every night, what’s her name?”

He didn’t answer. Just looked down at his feet.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” You say lowly and duck into the car, almost slamming the door behind you. He follows after a few moments, getting into the car slowly and quietly. “Take me home. Please.”

“Babe—“

“Don’t.”

He doesn’t argue as he starts the car and pulls out of the heavily wooded parking lot that you always went to. The drive was only fifteen minutes, but it was spent in excruciating silence as you quietly picked at the clear compartment of your wallet, attempting to remove your ID in order to get the Polaroid that lived behind it out. It was a sweet picture of you and Steve at your birthday party back in November, where you had been wearing matching sunglasses and had been looking at each other and laughing. It was your favorite picture ever taken, and he had said it was his too.

Once you pulled up to your apartment, you were quick to open the door and stand outside of the doorway. You dropped the Polaroid onto the seat and reached to grab the edge of his hoodie.

You were done.

You pulled off the yellow hoodie, his cologne dripping from the threads as you dropped it on the seat. You were freezing in the flimsy tank you had been wearing underneath, but you tried not to let it bother you as you slammed the door and finally walked away.

You didn’t hear him call after you, even as you slowly punched in the code. He had driven off before you stepped through the threshold.

You were crying by the time you made it into your actual apartment, the door still unlocked from earlier. You locked the door for the first time in months and practically stomped into your room, the door squeaking loudly behind you as you shut it. It was easy to flop into bed, and even easier to sob harder when you smelled him all over your comforter.

You wallowed for all of five minutes before Alex came in, teary-eyed from sleep, but with a knowing look on her face.

“Did you finally end it?”

You sniffled.

“Aw, babe,” She tutted and laid beside you in bed, reaching over to rub your shoulder. “It’ll be okay. He’s just a man.”

“I just don’t get how all of this time means nothing to him. Nothing! He’s here almost every night and he can’t even tell me what I am to him.”

“It’s just what he does. He’s known for being a whore, and that’s exactly what he is— a whore.”

“A whore who’s been leading me on for almost three months,” You replied pathetically, putting your hands over your face as you cried harder. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re literally the smartest, kindest, and most fun person I know. The fact that he can’t see that has nothing to do with you— it has to do with the fact that he’s just not a good person,” Alex defended, climbing off the bed to pull you to your feet. “You’re a great person, and everyone you’ve ever met loves you. You’re gorgeous, fun, and hilarious. He’s going to come crawling back on his hands and fucking knees, babe.”

You sadly smile at her, and wipe the tears from your face. “Thank you, Alex. I don’t think you’re right about the last part, but I’ll try to believe you about the rest.”

“We’ll make him regret he ever treated you like this. I promise.”

You and she linked pinkies, kissing the other end of your hands as you did so.

“I’ll make sure he regrets it. He deserves to feel just as shitty as I do right now.”

“Damn straight!”

[yuri-is-online]

Hello, hello! Congrats on making the 500 follower milestone!🥳🎉🎆 For the masquerade event, may I request prompt no. 12 with Leona, Riddle and Azul, please? Thank you!

12. You had a wonderful time dancing and flirting with someone at the ball, only to find out from your friends the next day that was your crush. And you have no idea if they knew it was you they were dancing with.

Hi hi friend!!! I am very happy to see you, in both my inbox and my notifications. I really hope you like what I came up with here, and look forward to any future requests you may have.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, SUGGESTIVE WARNING FOR LEONA (he gives Yuu a hickey) Leona? Self-destructing? It's more likely than you think, Riddle is a fragile Victorian maiden, and Azul is himself, a reference is made to his chat with Jade. This got a bit angsty but everything is ok in the end. The other event requests can be found on my masterlist here.

Leona

Just one night. That's what Leona told himself, one night with you in his arms, all your attention focused on him; your smiles, your laughter, the heat of your breath against his lips as he steals all of your air and pockets the sound of your gasps in the back of your mind right by all those times he got the last word in an argument with Kifaji. You were going to be his for one night and one night only, with a mask, hat, and cape to shield him from all your typical banter and sweep you up in the allure of the Masquerade. And it had worked, like the predictable herbivore you were you let him sweep you off your feet and monopolize all of your time for the entire night.

Your eyes had been drawn away by a particularly loud shout from the lizard's annoying retainer, that pointless concern drawing you away from him once again. He touches just under your chin and moves your head back towards him, trying not to let his smirk grow any further when you melt into his touch and completely ignore the commotion.

"Sorry," you do sound like it "where were we?"

"You were about to stop telling me how nice my costume is and do something more productive." The hears the heart rate increase before he feels it, tastes Yuu before he kisses them, and knows long before he pulls away that this was a mistake. He was supposed to tie off his feelings by proving to himself that attending one of these shitty formal events with you would suck.

And it sort of had, but only because he had to hear your strangled disappointment when he left you alone instead of ditching the soirée to come home with him.

Home. As if either of you would be welcome there. ~~~~ "So you wanted me to be sitting down for this conversation?" You have a feeling you know why Ruggie is here. It has something to do with the extremely inhuman teeth marks that would have been your death warrant if looks could kill.

"You already know you were sucking Leona's face last night right?" You aren't quite sure who Ruggie is trying to be polite to with keeping his descriptions to that already vivid medium.

"Yes," you look off just past Ruggie as if it will save you any embarrassment "I found out when Vil started slapping foundation on my neck and demanding I call my therapist."

"You should still do that." So it's you Ruggie is trying to be polite to, sweet that makes eye contact a little bit easier. "But- no after you do that would you mind talking to Leona? I'd say call him but he's just going to ignore you and I am sick of it."

"Oh come on," you try to lighten the mood with a laugh "it's only been one day right?"

"Try since you met." Ruggie mutters and your mood falls back to the stressful buzz of nonsensical energy that you had been stitched in all day. He probably didn't mean for you to hear that, just like Leona didn't mean for you to see him as vulnerable in anyway at all.

"Did he send you to pick something up?" It's not a question Ruggie jumps to answer, but he doesn't have to. "Mind letting me deliver it?" ~~~~ "You've got some nerve showing your face here." Leona knows it's you, and you wish you could say you're surprised he is able to tell with his eyes closed, you wish you could say the deep breath he takes before he opens his eyes is ugly or terrifying in some way so you have an excuse to run.

But for some ungodly reason you don't want to. Seeing him makes things less embarrassing, in a complete defiance of logic and good sense you feel nothing but confidence as you stride across the room and set the skewers Ruggie made on his room's coffee table. "Figured you wouldn't answer your phone so I just let myself in." You don't move any closer to his bed, not because you are afraid of him, something you know he knows as he makes a show of opening his mouth to taste the air and show off his teeth. No if Leona wants you-

"Here to say you regret it?" He means it as a taunt, but like so many of those it's a bit too truthful for you to really be insulted. "I just wanted a taste, you had to have known a herbivore like you would never be able to keep up with me."

"And you have to know that acting like a coward is unbecoming for anyone," the strength of your voice only surprises him, you know damn well Leona isn't the only one who is capable of being petty "let alone you." He closes the distance between for you, eyes narrow and a growl shaking you to your core but he doesn't dare lay a hand on you.

"You-"

"Are completely right and will not take any criticism." And now you are interrupting him, oooh you can piratically see the fire in his eyes. "Look, if you don't want me that's fine. I'm a big herbivore, not a little cub trying to cling to your warmth. But if you do-" You really wish Leona had a tie, it would make this nicer but he doesn't so you satisfy yourself with yanking him down to you with a fistful of his hair "then I want to hear it. And I won't yield until I do."

For a brief second, you wonder if any of what you've just done is smart. If you should have told Vil, Ace, Trey, anyone other than just Ruggie and Grim where it was you were going so they knew who to blame for your mangled corpse. But that would just complicate the excited flicker in Leona's eyes when he fully understands that you are serious. When he breaks free of your grasp with a simple shake of his head and-

Laughs. Freely and purely in a way you don't think you've ever heard before as he reaches out to that specific spot on your neck and wipes away the makeup with a simple, self satisfied spell.

"Beg."

"Excuse-"

"Oh I want to tell you," Leona is back in all his annoying smug glory, you should have expected this from someone who refused to apologize for overblotting "you have no idea just how much I want to say, but I wanna hear you beg just as bad, so indulge me a little yeah?"

I know you want to.

Riddle

"Hey congrats!" Cater almost knocks you off your couch with how hard he claps you on the back. "I was staring to think you and Riddle would never-"

"Wait, wait, wait, slow down." You make sure to put your mug down on a coaster and out of either of your reach so your precious morning brew didn't get knocked over by anyone's antics. "How did you get into my dorm and what's this about me and Riddle?" Cater gives you his best peeved look and you give him your best infuriated stare. Both of you know the answer to both of those questions; he let himself in, and you are in love with Riddle. But you do fail to see what that last bit has to do with anythi-

"Didn't you kiss him last night?" Cater is really glad you set that mug down because the wheezing cough you hack up would have been truly dangerous if any liquids involved. "He's been totally out of it all day, it's super cute you want to see some pics?"

"NO!" You manage an impressive volume for someone so low on air. "I just- ididntknowitwashimand-"

"You what?" Cater is only half paying attention, already moving to show you some admittedly extremely cute pictures of Riddle sitting in the Heartslabyul lounge with a cup of tea staring out the bay window, an unusual shade of pink decorating his cheeks with a strangely serene look on his face. You want to touch his chubby cheeks but Cater keeps his phone just out of your reach.

"I didn't know it was him." You say, quietly almost to yourself and though Cater does suck in a pretty deep breath he doesn't overwhelm you with his reaction. "I mean it was just on the cheek! I thought..."

Sweet. Your dance partner was so sleepy, and trying so very hard to stay awake. But it was clearly unbelievably far past his bed time, he can't stop yawning.

"I'm sorry, I'm being extremely impolite." He falls onto your shoulder anyway, and you feel compelled to protect him from the crowd, gently guiding him away from the lights and wrapping your cloak around his shoulders.

"It's ok, you shouldn't be sorry for feeling sleepy." He hums happily as you look around for one of the professors to take him back to his dorm. "I had a really fun time dancing with you already, I didn't know anything about formal dances before I came here so it was really nice to have such a helpful partner. You don't need to keep yourself awake for me."

"But I want to." He murmurs. "I want you to see me as reliable." Poor kid, he must really be out of it to be relying on a stranger for validation. Thankfully you finally manage to find Crewel and give your new friend a quick thank you kiss on the cheek before you pass him off.

"You're plenty useful, you don't need my approval." And you are gone before he can shout again about just how badly he wants it.

"I thought he was just some guy." You say. "And it wasn't like a kiss kiss, it was just a peck on the cheek." Something you never would have done if you knew it was Riddle, something he had seethed with jealousy over you giving out to everyone else and conveniently neglected to disclose to Cater as the type of kiss he had gotten. Cater had been under the impression it was a bit more... dramatic but then he supposes as he looks at you and then the picture of a pining Riddle on his phone, that this scenario does make a bit more sense.

Maybe the little teapot had an inappropriate dream where you held hands in the rose garden on the way back to Heartslabyul and gotten that mixed up with reality. A sharp knock at Ramshackle's door snaps you both away from your thoughts as Cater quickly excuses himself though one of the lounge's windows and you move to answer it, little doubt about who it could be. ~~~~ Riddle's entry to Ramshackle is much more formal than Cater's. He says nothing as you walk back to the lounge, you say nothing as you sit down on your couch, and he politely coughs when he settles into a recliner but still offers nothing in the way of an explanation.

"Thank you for letting me in." He does say that, because to do otherwise would be rude.

"You're always welcome over." And you can't exactly help but say that because anything else would be a lie. The silence stretches out as you stare at your poor mug in distress.

"Your tea's cold." Not the line you expected from Riddle, less so the genuine distress. "I'm sorry if I interrupted you."

"Oh it's ok, I wasn't really making much progress on it anyway." You had just made it when Cater showed up, and you had quite forgotten about it until you needed a distraction. "Did you have a good night's slee-"

"I love you." Riddle doesn't blurt anything ever, the words are as blunt and firm as a deceleration of the Queen's rules. Once again, you are very glad that no liquids are involved in the breath you are required to take. "I love you and would very much like to know if you love me too. It's alright if you don't, I'm content with our friendship, treasure it even, but I need to say something to avoid further miscommunications on my part like last night's." He moves, not quite to his knees, but deferring to you all the same. "Please." Riddle doesn't know what he is asking for, and you barely know how you answer. "What do you have to say?"

"I think." You gently take his hands in yours. "That I would like to make two cups of tea. And I would like you to sit a little closer to me."

Azul

He knew. There was no way in the deep blue sea that conniving, scheming, bastard hadn't known it was you for one second. So what was it that Azul wanted from you so badly that he pretended to be attracted to you for an entire night? You shuffle around under your blankets and flip the pillow you had been sobbing into just a few moments prior trying to convince yourself to go back to sleep, that this revelation (even if it felt more like a train wreck with how loud Ace and Deuce had yelled at you this morning) would be better digested after a night's sleep.

Closed eyes take you back to the dim lights of the ballroom, the perfect way the supposed stranger holds himself, poised yet somehow relaxed. Like he was always meant to be held in your arms, the way he removes his glove before he takes your hand in his and intertwines your fingers as you dance doesn't even strike you as slightly performative.

"Your hands seem cold." He says, plush lips curving into a smile as his thumb runs over your knuckles in time with the shiver his words send through your spine. "May I hold you closer? It might help with that chill you seem to be suffering." And though you say nothing you still move further into his embrace, overwhelmed with the beauty of his affection.

You take a deep, shuddering breath and scream again into your pillow as Grim rolls over next to you mumbling something inaudible to your foggy mind.

This is pure torture. ~~~~ You knew it was him. That was the conclusion Azul had drawn because there was no way, with how deep your affections ran for him, you would have ever allowed someone else to sweep you up into their arms when you had his gift tied so delicately around your throat.

"I was right," he remembers saying that with such loaded intent he almost cringed at the sound of his own voice "it does look quite attractive on you." The spiral conch was a bit out of place in your costume, but you had still thought to wear it. The delicate silver string he had spent so much time agonizing over glittered in the magical lights of the ball. There was no reason in his mind, no reason until approximately 8:45 AM this morning anyway, to consider last night as anything other than a complete success. Now though...

Roses are too Heartslabyul, it's a bit too late to go looking for coral or seashells even if that was something he knew he needed to give to you at some point. Courtship traditions were ingrained in cultures for a reason, and he knew- well until he saw Ace shaking you in Ramshackle's courtyard he thought he had noticed that you were receptive to merfolk ones.

"Looking to make an apology little imp?" He does not startle to Sam's question, though he does make a disgruntled sigh.

"It appears I need to." Because no one on this campus likes to admit they have ever done anything wrong, and Azul does not think he was wrong to approach you but he knows you're mad. He had been waiting for your usual weekend visit to the lounge, anxious but excited, already having worked his way through the misunderstanding in his own mind. To be jealous of himself had never crossed his mind. You had never once asked to leave him as soon as he had asked for your hand, mask or no that was all Azul really wanted, out of that night anyway. But he had been making plans for this one he still wishes to see fulfilled, ones precious enough to swallow a little pride and say the words. And with that in mind... "Do you have peonies? Light pink, almost white." He doesn't really have to ask, the flowers are bought and paid for as almost an afterthought as Azul tries to plan something, even though he knows with each step he takes towards Ramshackle that the instant he sees you it will all fall apart. But he knocks on the door anyway, and tries not to half cry himself when he sees the stressed face that greets him.

"I am told," Azul says carefully, purposefully not forcing himself into your space no matter how much he wants to reacquaint himself with the warmth of your embrace "that this is the way land dwellers apologize for romantic indiscretions." Between partners goes unsaid as you, against the advice of all your friend group and the monster asleep in your bed, let him into your lounge and excuse yourself to find a vase. It's not strange to see him so relaxed, Azul's self confidence was one of the many things that attracted you to him, but it feels strangely homey to see him settled into your couch not even remotely phased by the flowers he holds. And when he looks up to see you, you can watch the breath catch in his chest before his smile shines through. It's almost enough to make you drop the vase, but not even that is enough to shatter his reverie.

"Thank you." The whisper is hoarse from your previous tears, Azul settles the flowers in the vase before pulling the glove free from his hand to allow you to seek reassurance from the coolness of his touch. There are no tears now, but the gentle curl of his hand around your cheek still has a slight tremble.

"I am sorry." He means that, even if he did nothing wrong he can still regret hurting you he decides. "Would you allow me to show you something?" Something he says, like the embrace you share and the kiss he finally gets to savor is a thing he is giving you and not a treasure he has longed to take.

[plussizefantasia]

Trick-Or-Treat

Flufftober Day 31: Trick or Treat

Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1.3k

AN: Here it is. The last one shot of October. Thank you to everyone who has left comments and reblogs you guys are awesome. I'll be taking a short break (like two weeks) and will be back soon with some more stories including a multi-chapter Steve Harrington x reader story and plans for the 100-follower celebration that we earned at the beginning of the month. As always, reblogs and feedback are really appreciated.

divider credit @royallaesthetics

Bucky Barnes didn’t think very much of himself. Which is a real shame, considering he’s one of the most amazing men you’ve ever met. You wouldn’t have moved in together if he was a bad guy like he thought he was. The two of you had moved into a two-story townhouse in Brooklyn three months ago. Bucky really wanted to get close to his roots, especially after everything that happened. Steve had moved into an apartment about a block from you guys but split most of his time between the Avenger’s initiative and being home. 

“Jamie, could you help me move the couch to the stoop please?’

‘Why are we taking our indoor furniture outdoors?” 

“So that we have something comfy to sit on while we hand out candy.” 

“We’re handing out candy? I thought we were just going to put it in a bowl and leave it outside the door.” Bucky was confused, and more than a little apprehensive. 

“Jamie. Love of my life, this is what people who have houses do. They sit out on their porches and hand out candy to children in mediocre costumes for two hours while trying not to freeze. It’s a rite of passage.”

“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re telling me that you didn’t do trick or treat in the olden days?” 

“First of all, don’t call them the olden days. Second of all, trick or treating wasn’t really a thing until I was too old to participate, and even then, people had more things to worry about than handing out candy.”

“Why don’t you want to hand out candy, Jamie?”

“Because… it will be cold.”

“You’re literally a human furnace try again.” You lifted one eyebrow at him, trying your best to capture the essence of Roger’s ‘eyebrows of disappointment’ that he had practically trademarked.

“Doll, I just don’t think it's a good idea.”

“Why not Jamie? I won’t make you hand out candy if you don’t want to but I have a feeling that whatever reason you have in your silly little noggin for not wanting to isn’t really a good one.”

“What if they hate me?” He mumbled.

“What if who hates you, baby?”

“The kids. What if the kids are scared of me.”

“James Buchanan Barnes. You are a hero, you fought to bring back literally half of the population of the entire universe, anyone who is scared of you is an idiot.”

“That’s sweet doll, but I don’t want to ruin anyone’s night.”

“The only person’s night who is a risk of being ruined is mine. I don’t know how I’ll survive without my human furnace to keep me warm out there.” You batted your eyelashes at him. “Please, Jamie? Just try, if you hate it you can go back inside but I think you’ll have a lot of fun.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?” You didn’t try to fight the smile that spread from ear to ear.

‘Yeah, doll. I’ll hand out candy with you.”

Bucky wasn’t sure about any of this. But you had asked so prettily and his therapist (someone you had found for him, not one of the shitty government-appointed ones) had told him that he needed to start pushing his boundaries. He figured that spending the night next to you and watching you be happy was as good of a way to start pushing boundaries as any. He had pulled the couch out into the space that was right in front of your door. He had helped you climb over the back of it with a huge bowl of candy after you realized that the couch had practically trapped you inside. Now the two of you were waiting. The night didn’t officially start until 8:00 so you had about fifteen minutes to go. 

“Jamie?”

“Hmm?’

“I forgot my phone.”

“Okay?’ 

“Jamie?”

“Yes?” 

“Could you go get my phone?” He let out a deep sigh and one of those old man grunts as he pushed himself up off the couch and climbed over it. He walked further into the house and you took your chance. “Hey Jamie?”

“Yes, Doll?” 

“Since you’re inside… could you make me some hot chocolate?” 

“Doll, if you wanted hot chocolate you could’ve just asked in the first place you didn’t need to send me on a quest for your phone.”

“I did actually leave my phone on the counter so it’s not like I lied.”

As Bucky was making your hot chocolate, the beginning few kids started emerging from their houses, parents behind them bundled up to counteract the chilly October night.

You saw a few clowns, some kids show characters that you didn’t really know the name of, and some funny pun costumes that you laughed at. But what really caught your eye was the trio of boys four houses down from yours, making their way down the street.

They couldn’t have been older than eight but their costumes were impeccable. They really were mini versions of your three favorite guys. A mini Captain America complete with a homemade cardboard shield, a mini falcon with swim goggles and a plastic redwing, and last but certainly not least a mini winter soldier whose arm was wrapped in tinfoil. 

You had to resist the urge to actually scream, but you did let out a few overjoyed giggles.

“Jamie! James come quick!” You yelled into the house.

“You’re hot chocolate is almost done.” He yelled back.

“Who cares about the hot chocolate this is way more important!”

He started making his way towards the open door, “What is more important than hot choco-” He completely stopped. Frozen in his place looking at the three little boys making their way up your steps. “Holy Shit”

‘Language.” You replied.

Bucky practically launched himself over the back of the couch to meet the boys,

“Mom! Mom look! It’s Sergeant Barnes.” The boy with the tinfoil arm turned with a bright smile on his face. His mom was nearly as frozen as Bucky, most likely not expecting to run into a retired superhero on Halloween night.

With a smack from you, Bucky released himself from his stupor. “Hey little man, what’s your name?”

“George, but everyone calls me Georgie.” He said with the confidence of a kid who had rehearsed. 

“Well Georgie, that’s a very nice costume you’ve got there.”

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes, Sir.”

“Call me Bucky, please.”

“Okay, Mr. Bucky, sir.” Both you and Bucky chuckled at that.

“I think a costume as good as that deserves some candy what do you think?” Bucky looked at you.

“Definitely, I think all three of these young heroes deserve their candy.”

You placed a handful into the Captain’s bucket, and the Falcon’s but let Bucky grab the candy for his mini-me. He grabbed two large handfuls and winked at the kid as he placed them inside his orange pumpkin bucket.

“Would you be okay with taking a picture?” Georgie’s mom asked.

“Absolutely!’ Bucky replied and pulled all three young boys in front of him. Kneeling behind them and giving a genuine smile.

Once pictures were done the parents got the boys to say goodbye and move on. 

“There are more houses to go to Georgie, besides, I’m sure Mr. Barnes would like to be able to give candy to some other kids.”

“Okay Mom,” Georgie turned back to Bucky, “Thank you, Mr. Bucky, sir. You’re my hero.” He turned back away and skipped down your stairs and onto the next one like he hadn’t just broken your boyfriend.

The rest of the night went pretty similarly, with the occasional Avenger costume and star-struck kid. Bucky posing for pictures and actually enjoying it and you handing out way more candy per child than their parents were okay with.

Bucky’s smile never faded and he seemed to get more and more into it as the night went on. 

“Hey Doll?” He asked when the two of you had finally returned your couch back to its rightful place.

“Yeah, Jamie.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You kissed him on the cheek. “You never did bring me my hot chocolate though.”

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Must Be A Full Moon 🌕 (Werewolf!Nico x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Nicolas “Nico” Brown x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You’ve been dating Nico for about five months now and you couldn’t be happier with him. He’s big, he’s sexy, he’s protective, and he listens! He’s the perfect boyfriend…except for one thing: you haven’t had sex yet. Every time you come close to it, he always makes an excuse and leaves your apartment before anything more than kissing can happen. What is it, you wonder? Is he not sexually attracted to you? Is he nervous? What could it be? One dark night, while the moon is high in the sky after a costume party, you get your answer…and everything you’ve been craving from your big, strong, sexy boyfriend.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Boyfriend!Nico; Established Relationship; Transformation; Monsterf*cking; Dom!Nico + sub!Reader; Black-Coded!Reader (but anyone can still read this); Spanking; Biting; Marking; Scent Play; 69; Knotting; Doggystyle; Sex Against The Window; Voyeurism; Creampie; Reader Cums 3x; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I haven’t something for my baby daddy Nicolas in a minute now. I just adore him. Enjoy & HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! 🎃🖤 -Jazz

************

It is dark tonight, this Halloween. Very dark. The darkest it’s ever been, the newspapers said.

But not even the tiniest bit of fear runs through you. Not with your big, scary man at your side.

You giggle under the glowing gaslamp illuminating the cobblestones and darkened windows of the barren town. You turn on your heeled Mary Jane that goes with your Red Riding Hood costume, smiling shyly at your boyfriend.

“I had a really good time tonight, Nicolas,” you say, your voice soft and breathy. Seductive. You hope he catches on, glad that the alcohol from the party earlier has emboldened you. The many vodka shots, sweetened with chocolate, candy corn, and sour apple, have also softened the edges of your vision, making everything look softer, rosey, and nice…including your boyfriend.

The corner of his lips lift into a small, sexy smile that makes your stomach and lady parts flutter. “I’m glad,” he mutters.

But he always looks nice. Nice and sexy. You could barely keep your hands off of him at the costume party tonight, your hands stroking his chest, arms, or anywhere else you could that wasn’t his cock. He, on the other hand, had no issue putting a hand on your thigh under a table or placing a hand on your ass if someone even looked at you and your cute costume.

Worick and Alex had invited you out for the party about a week ago, something they do every Halloween in your small, shitty town. Every Halloween-lover, drinker, and young, dumb person in town came to your favorite bar/nightclub to dress up and party. You’re usually weary about large crowds in condensed spaces, but Nico being there made you feel 100% better.

You can’t explain how his presence makes you feel. You love him near you, even when you’re just sitting on the couch or cuddling in bed. He makes you feel so safe. So protected. Despite his bigger size, you love feeling so small beside him. Plus, the fact that he’s big enough to pick you up and break you like a toothpick turns you on more than words can say.

You have a thing for big men, hence why Worick and Nico caught your eye when Alex introduced you to them at a bar once. But it’s Nico who grabbed your attention…sweet, attentive, quiet, shy, awkward, and slightly terrifying Nico.

You’ve been dating him for five months and they’ve been the best! The dates are exciting and romantic. The kisses are electric. You find yourself falling deeper and deeper for him every day you talk to him or see him which he often does when he’s passing through your neighborhood for a mission. You can’t ask for a better partner.

Except for one thing: the sex is nonexistent. While yes, you don’t have to be sexual with EVERY man you date, you want to be sexual with YOUR man now. You can’t help it! Nico is too delicious to not be in your bed or on your couch completely naked and buried in one of your holes.

For the past month, your nights have been filled with hot dreams of the two of you locked together, Nico fucking you stupid. You often daydream about what his cock looks like or how he’d taste. What do his moans sound like? How does he look when he cums?

In addition to the past month, you’ve been trying in vain to get him to come into your apartment after date nights with promises of more wine or a cup of tea. You’ve tried other things too: wearing tighter dresses and low-cut tops to show off your ample chest and shapely figure; sending him flirty, late night voicemails; kissing him just a little longer than usual when he or you have to go home.

But alas…nothing has happened. It’s disappointing and disheartening, but you won’t give up. Not until your stud of a boyfriend is buried in your sheets AND in you. Hence why you invited him out tonight.

“I hope you had fun too,” you say, taking his bigger hand in your smaller, daniter ones. Even his hand is bigger than your wrist. God, why won’t he just fuck you already?! “I know you’re not much of a party person, but I appreciate you taking me.”

You give him a shy, loving smile that he returns. To anyone watching, you look like two lovebirds falling deeper for each other under the lamplight. “I hope Worick didn’t scare you off too much,” he signs, momentarily dropping your hands to do so.

You’ve been studying sign language for years now having someone in your family who is deaf. Not to mention that you’ve had deaf patients as a nurse working at your local hospital. Nico has also been teaching you other signs, his eyes brightening when you sign back to him. You love seeing that bright look of joy and pride in his gaze.

You sign a little bit now, only doing what you know. “Please! He’s annoying sober, so him acting up off theBourbon is nothing. I just hope Alex knows what she’s in for.” Nico laughs and you laugh with him, knowing that Warwick is loose monster when he’s drunk and will no doubt want to roleplay with Alex tonight in her cat costume.

The laughter dies now and you’re soon left with the sounds of the night: a lone owl hooting, a dog barking, a crisp breeze blowing in the trees. “Oh!” you say just because you want him to stay. “And thank you for, uh….dressing up. I knew you weren’t gonna wear that fursuit.”

Nico smirks as you play with the furry tail that he attached to his back pocket just for you. Strangely, it fits well with his black jeans, tight black V-neck, and leather jacket. “Glad I didn’t disappoint you,” he signs. His soft brown eyes roam over your hood and frilly, velvet dress that you paired with some white thigh-high stockings, Mary Jane heels, and a corset that pushes your breasts enticingly up in his face.

“You?!” you scoff, your eyes widening at him. You wave a passive, freshly-manicured hand. Your nails are shiny and blood red. Pretty…probably prettier wrapped around your man’s cock.”No way! I’m just happy you went along with my costume for tonight. Alex helped me pick it out.”

You begin to swish your hips in your dress, making the red and white frills sway around your thighs. Nico watches, transfixed by your legs and the way your titties jiggle in your corset. “Cute,” he sighs, his voice deep and raspy. It makes something tingle in you.

Your heart pounds against your chest, somehow making your ears ring. “Really?” you whisper. “You think so?” You fill the gap between you, just a mere inch that you fill with only two steps towards him.

You wrap your arms around Nico’s thick neck while he ropes his around your waist, nearly lifting you up off of the ground. You giggle, your nose brushing with his. “Mmm-hmm,” he hums. “So pretty.” Then he’s kissing you, his soft, juicy lips tasting of whiskey. He smells faintly of smoke from the bar and his favorite Irish Spring soap.

God, this man! He seduces you with one mere touch. One whiff of him. One kiss. You want him so badly. Your nipples harden under your costume and your panties are already soaked. You deepen the kiss, hoping he can understand just what you need.

But just as quickly as the kiss happens, it ends and Nico slowly lowers you down onto your feet. “I should leave,” he signs, looking wearily down the road. He gets anxious around this time of night as anyone would.

Your heart droops like a wilted flower at the mention of his departure. “Oh,” you say, disappointed. “You don’t wanna come in and stay awhile? I-I mean, it’s so late and you pounded as much as Warwick.” You recall the whiskey shot challenge he had with his longtime friend and the apple vodka he shared with you by pouring it into your mouth from his. You were so horny after that.

“Nah,” he signs. “Tired. You need rest too.” He pats your head, only disappointing you further. You want that hand on your throat or spanking your ass till it stings.

The alcohol works its damned magic and soon, you’re spilling out the words you’ve been keeping in: “Nicolas,” you say, swallowing hard. “Why don’t you wanna sleep with me?”

Nico’s brown eyes widen at you, stunned into silence. The only sounds are of a distant owl hooting and your blood pumping in your ears. “What?” he says, too shocked to sign.

You gasp, covering your mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why did you say that?! “I-I’m sorry!” you squeak. “It’s the booze! I-It’s just that we’ve been dating for months and you only come over during the day….a-and you don’t stay the night! I want you to stay the night!”

The truth comes tumbling out, unable to be bottled up anymore. Nico stands there in silence, mouth parted in shock. He had no idea you felt this way and of course, he didn’t. You never told him till now. “Is it me?” you blubber, nervously playing with the tie to your hood. “Are you not sexually attracted to me?”

“No,” he immediately says, his voice gruff and low. He closes the gap between you, his hand on your cheek. “I’m fuckin’ crazy about you, Y/N.” His words are so passionate that they make your face grow hot. He steps back, looking gutted. “I’m sorry,” he signs. “I didn’t mean to make you feel this way. It’s not any of that.”

“Then what is it?” you gently push. He looks away from you then, staring off to the side at a street lamp. “I need you so much, Nico,” you whimper, pressing your hands against his hard chest. “I hug my pillow at night thinking of you next to me….which I wouldn’t have admired without the booze.” Your face feels like it’s on fire, but so does your body. You’re alight with need.

Nico’s eyes switch back to yours, interest and a small flame in them. “Really?” he asks. You nod and he uses his big hands to sign for you: “I think about you too. All of the time.” You smile at this, hope fluttering in your breast. “There’s just something I couldn’t tell you before about me.”

He looks down at his shoes, biting his plump lower lip. You scowl at him, confused and a little scared. Is it something bad? From the way he looks so anxious, it must be. “Something about you?” you parrot. “Then what is it? You can tell me.”

Nico looks back up at you and you can see the moon in them. “I’ll show you,” he says. “C‘mon.” He suddenly takes your hand and leads you to the front door of your apartment building. “Where are we going?” you ask, unable to hide your excitement.

“To bed,” he grunts. You wrench your hand out of his grasp, gaping at him. “What?!” you exclaim. “B-But you’re supposed to show me why you’re not…”

You pause, a sudden yawn escaping your lips. Your boyfriend leans against the doorframe, smirking at you. “M’not tired,” you whine with a cute little pout.

He nods, snickering to himself as you get your key out to unlock the door. “Uh-huh,” he chuckles. “Upstairs.” He presses a hand to your waist as you walk inside with him. You believe you feel his hand trail down to your behind, but you’re not too sure.

“But are you gonna show me what you needed to show me?” you tiredly ask as he leads you up the steps to your floor. “Soon, baby,” he softly says. “Bedtime.”

Bedtime, it is. You don’t fight him as he leads you up to your floor and helps you into your tiny apartment. And you don’t fight him when he helps you out of your costume, into your PJs, wipes your makeup off for you, and then tucks you into bed. Sleepily, you watch as he strips down to his briefs before he climbs in next to you, his hard body curled up next to yours.

You want to touch him, feel him, make him feel as hot as you are. But sleep takes you before you can even think about reaching over to grab his cock and stroke him through his briefs. The alcohol and the long night take over, leaving you sound asleep. Nico falls asleep soon after, his soft snores filling the tiny, dark bedroom.

But somewhere in the night that is creeping towards morning, you awaken to a sudden noise. You sit up straight out of your hot dream of you and Nico in a hot tub somewhere, hands roaming and lips caressing, reality crashing down onto you. Immediately, your eyes catch the sliver of light coming from across the room where your private bathroom is.

You hear the sound of running sink water, but also something else. It sounds like…breathing. Harsh, distressed breathing. You look to where Nico should be in your bed, but you find the space empty and warm as if he just got up. Worried, you swallow the lump in your throat to call to him. “Nico?” you tentatively call. “Honey? Is everything okay?”

He grunts in response, making your heart leap in fear. Is he hurt? “Nicolas!” you call, seriously now. “What’s going on?”

“Stay away!” a deep, rasped voice calls from the other side of the door. “Don’t come in!” He grunts again, his breathing becoming more ragged. You press a hand to your mouth, fear gripping you. That didn’t sound like Nico at all. This voice is much, much deeper. “N-Nico?” you whimper, confused and scared.

He doesn’t answer you anymore. He continues to grunt and snarl as if he’s an animal. ‘He must be sick,’ you think and quickly toss the duvet covering you away to tent to your boyfriend.

But before you can get out of bed, the bathroom door opens. Suddenly, you are faced with the silhouette of Nico, but all you can see is black. You can’t see his face nor any of his other features. He might as well be a shadow. You’re not sure anymore if you’re even awake. “Nico?” you whisper, fear crawling into your veins. “Is that you?”

“Yes,” he instantly replies, but he sounds…wrong. His voice is even raspier and deeper as if it dropped an octave in the time he was in the washroom. “Are you afraid?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, unsure of how to answer him. You press the duvet to your chest, covering yourself. “N-No,” you stammer.

Nico then steps forward and you see that his eyes are nothing but slits with gold irises in the moonlight. “You should be.”

And right before your very naked eyes, your boyfriend’s shape begins to change. He grows bigger and larger in size, growing in muscle mass. He lowers over you so much that you have to tilt your head up to look at him. As the moonlight cuts into your bedroom, creating a silver spotlight on him, he begins to grunt and snarl to himself, his face scrunched in pain.

His clothes grow smaller on his bigger body and suddenly rip off of him, tearing to shreds and fluttering to the floor. His skin disappears, replaced with fine black fur that coats his entire body. His ears elongate and point. His nose forms a dripping snout. His nails sharpen and his teeth grow bigger and longer, sharpening into fangs that gleam like knives at you. But the kicker it seems is the big, furry, wagging tail that drops between his furry thighs.

Finally finished, he falls to his knees in the light before you, heaving from whatever energy his transformation took out of him. You gape at him, all kinds of emotions swimming in you, but fear is the number one. “N-N-N—“ You can’t even get his name out.

Slowly, he looks up at you and somehow, you see your sweet boyfriend in the eyes of the wolf staring back at you. “This is me,” he growls out. “The real me.”

You continue to stare, wide-eyed and alarmed. You’re dreaming. You have to be. You pinch yourself, hissing at the sting. No…this is real. Nico stands but doesn’t come near you, too afraid to do so. “I won’t hurt you,” he signs and you almost laugh at the sight of his big, clawed paws signing for you. This is Nico!

“I’d never. But the moon makes me like this.” He motions over his new form, looking absolutely ashamed…and horny. You can see his cock bulging from his briefs that have just managed to cling to his groin despite his bigger size.

Slowly, you creep out of the bed and tentatively walk over to him. He stands firmly still, afraid of spooking you. Once you’re near him, you first gently touch his snout and then move your fingers over his soft, thick fur. He sighs at your touch, his eyes fluttering closed. Then you move farther down, getting on your knees to move his briefs out of the way.

There, you gasp at the sight. His cock has swollen at least four sizes up from his original size as a human…which is pretty thick already judging from what you’ve seen in his pants. He is thicker, longer, and flushed red. “My knot,” he raspily explains, sounding embarrassed. “I…can’t help it.”

And you can’t help the way your pussy throbs staring at it. Despite how strange it looks, it also makes you hotter than you’ve ever been in your life. Gently, you wrap a hand around it, trying to see how thick it is. Your fingers can barely fit around the base!

You begin to stroke your boyfriend up and down, getting used to his size and eventually using another hand to hold him. Nico hoarsely moans above you, staring down at you through hooded eyes. “Baby,” he hoarsely says. “W-What are you—“

You silence him by taking a kitten lick of his tip, making him groan. “Take me, Nico,” you whisper, staring up at him through your lashes. “Take my mouth. Fuck my face as much as you need.”

Then you take him into your mouth, first sucking gently on the head. Nico watches on, unable to fulfill your request…yet. He lets you take the reins, watching with clenched fists as you take him deeper with every slow second, his cock sinking between your soft lips. He can’t believe what he’s witnessing. His beautiful, hot, cute girl on her knees for him taking his werewolf cock in her mouth.

“F-Fuck, darlin’,” he groans, unable to keep his sounds of pleasure back. He trembles under your wet tongue and soft, little hands stroking up and down his length. His big, heavy balls swinging like pendulums grow heavier with cum at the sight of you.

You pop his cock out of your mouth to smile up at him. “Feels good?” you purr, your heart exploding with pride when he frantically nods. “Good. Just relax for me, Nico. I’m right here.”

You continue to take him in your mouth, gradually growing bolder and more relaxed to take him deeper. He is much thicker than normal, stretching your mouth out to the point where your jaw aches. You alternate between eagerly stroking and eagerly sucking, bobbing your head up and down as you moan, sending vibrations throughout his thick, red cock.

“Shit!” Nico hisses, watching through slits as you give him a long lick from base to tip like a lollipop. Unable to take anymore, he gently grasps the back of your head and pushes you back down. You moan in joy, letting him thrust in and out of your mouth at a slow, gentle pace, obviously afraid of hurting you.

But that doesn’t last long. Feeling your soft, hot, wet mouth wrapped around him tears Nico’s self-control to shreds. Quickly, he pulls his cock out of your mouth and scoops you up as if you weigh nothing. You squeak in surprise as he carries you to the bed, carrying you like you’re a precious jewel.

And he takes care of you like you are one. Once on the bed, he lays down first before he places you on top facing his cock. You feel his clawed hands on your ass, cascading down your panties, and then rrrrrip. “Nico!” you whine, pouting at the sound of your lace panties tearing. “Those were my favorite!”

“Sorry, baby,” he says, but you can tell he isn’t. You’re not even that mad once his hands grasp your ass and spreads your cheeks apart. You hiss at the cool air hitting your puckered asshole and sobbing cunt. “Fuck,” Nico shudderingly says, his hot breath hitting your quivering pussy lips.

And there’s his tongue. His tongue. You’ve never felt anything like it. It is so big, fat, and long. It reaches every part of your pussy outside and in when it slides between your wet folds, caressing every sensitive spot. He fills you up in a way your fingers can’t, sending sparks of pleasure throughout your body.

For this to be the first time he’s ever eaten you out, it’s fucking magical. You can’t help but toss your ass back and grind against his face which Nico happily invites. He moans and growls into your cunt, messily eating and lapping at your juices. “Oh, Nico!” you moan. “Nico, fuck yes, that’s so good! Keep going, baby! Keep—“

You’re silenced by his cock suddenly popping you in the lip as it lurches forward, standing up at attention. “Sorry,” he chuckles, but pushes his hips up towards your inviting mouth. “Go ahead.”

He doesn’t even have to tell you. You’re salivating at the chance to have him in your mouth again. You proceed to bob your head up and down as he thrusts up into your mouth, shoving his knot a bit deeper each time down your throat. Saliva drips from your mouth as Nico fucks your face, using your mouth as a toy. You love every minute of it, causing your pussy to grow wetter in his mouth.

The lewd sounds of moans and wet licking fills the air that is thick with sex. The moonlight hits your brown skin and body, illuminating both of your beautiful features as Nico stares up at you. He adores the way you throw your ass back into his face. Loves how you look riding his tongue, twerking that soft, luscious ass of yours as you do. He grips and spanks it to his heart’s delight, growing rock at the sound of your pretty moans that bounce off of the bedroom walls.

He eats you faster, becoming more determined to bring you to orgasm with his tongue strokes. He uses the flat of his tongue to lick up your slit while one of his thick fingers toys with your pretty rosebud, rolling the needy button around in semi-circles. He has wanted to know your body for so long and now that he does, he wants to know more.

You ride his face like a stolen car, chasing your own high. “Fuck, Nico, I’m gonna cum!” you whine, your voice loud and squeaky. “Y-You’re gonna…I’m gonna!” Nico gripped your ass, giving you a bite of pain as his claws nearly dig into your flesh. “Cum, baby,” he growls into your cunt. “Cum for me!”

You continue to ride him, stroking his cock with both hands as you do to give him pleasure too. Finally, you feel yourself tumble off of that hill and into a sea of bliss. Your orgasm is intense and overwhelming, drawing all kinds of high-pitched moans and gasps out of you. Nico hums “mmm-hmm” into your pussy, lapping up all that you give him like a grateful dog would for water. He even licks along your asscrack, catching the droplets that fell there.

By the time he finishes, you are absolutely drained and shuddering above him. “Oh. My. God.” You gasp out each word. That was the best orgasm you’ve ever experienced in your life!

Nico chuckles below you, pressing a kiss to your clit that makes you shudder. Looking down, you find his bobbing knot has grown a lot harder and redder, practically flushed. “You’re still hard,” you giggle, slowly stroking up and down his shaft. He moans in response, fucking your hand without abandon. The poor baby is desperate. “Guess you still need more too.”

You look back at him, seeing the need in his piercing gaze. “Do you?” he asks, a question in his golden eyes. He doesn’t elaborate, but he doesn’t have to. You know exactly what he means: do you want him to fuck you?

Is the sky blue and the grass green? You giggle, positioning yourself so you’re now turned around and facing him. You press your hands against his furry chest, your fingers burying in his fur. “Yes, honey,” you coo, nuzzling your nose with his. “I want you too. Fuck me right here, right now. I’m all yours.”

That is all Nico needs to hear. Minutes later, you are on all fours, face down in the pillow with your ass hiked in the air, receiving the deep dicking of your life. Nico mounts you from behind, one clawed hand pressing you down into the bed while the other is on your ass, spanking you here and there and making you wail.

His strokes are slow but deep and hard, stealing the breath from your body with every thrust. It sends your clit into a pleasured frenzy, leading you to frantically rub it in time with his thrusts, and your brain turns to mush. His cock fills you up in a way you’ve never been before, his balls swinging against your clit.

“Oh, my God!” you practically scream. “Oh, my God!” Your moans are broken and loud as your boyfriend fucks you like an animal, bullying your pussy into taking his cock…and then eventually his knot. “Take it,” he growls, pressing a hand on your back. “Take me, darlin’.”

Embarrassing squelching sounds mingle with the creaking of the bed springs as he ruts into you, making your pussy wetter. And it isn’t just his cock. It’s him. It’s the way his fur tickles your skin. It’s the way he smells. It’s the way he sounds. Your pussy belongs to him, your velvety walls squeezing around him with every slow, deep thrust.

“I-I am!” you whimper out. “I will, Daddy, I promise!” You gasp as you feel him slide in deeper as he hooks an arm around you, drawing you closer to him. A loud, desperate whine escapes you at the feeling of him pistoling into you, making your tits and ass jiggle with every thrust.

“Good girl,” he whispers, his tongue caressing your earlobe and neck. “My good fuckin’ girl.” His teeth nibble on the tender skin of your neck, leaving little love marks of him. Something to let anyone know that you are his. The idea of being his, of being owned by him….fuck, you’re about to cum. You can feel it building again.

“Oh, Nico, I’m gonna cum again!” you sob to the heavens. “You’re gonna make me cum! O-Oh, f-f-fuck!”

Nico doesn’t stop even as you orgasm, your body bucking and writhing in his arms and underneath his big, furry body. He toys with your neck with his tongue and teeth, stimulating each sensitive part of you which only makes your orgasm that much more intense. He groans into your sweet, coconut-scented hair as your walls clench around him, pushing him to cum too.

But not yet.

When your orgasm finally fades, you snuggle back into his furry chest that pillows the back of your head. “Nico, I…” Your mind, sluggish from the two intense orgasms, can’t process the words quick enough.

Even if it could, Nico doesn’t give you a chance. He is suddenly turning you around, scooping you up, and taking you over to the window where the moonlight is bright and beautiful. He hooks his big paws underneath your thighs, keeping his cock inside of you as he pushes you against the wall, your thighs pinned open for him.

You weakly moan as you feel his fingers toy with your clit, your eyes fluttering at the intense pleasure. Your pussy shudders and throbs from the stimulation despite just orgasmic. You don’t know if you can take anymore of it. “Look at me,” Nico softly growls.

You open your eyes, staring into his. All you see is yourself reflecting back like two golden mirrors. “Beautiful,” he sighs. “So beautiful.” He thrusts deeper and suddenly, his knot is pushing inside of you. You let out a broken moan as he groans, nuzzling his face into your shoulder.

“N-Nico,” you whimper, gripping his back. Your nails dig into his skin littered in fur, no doubt leaving your own marks. But he embraces it, enjoying the bite of pain as your soft, velvet pussy squeezes around his knot. He begins to fuck you pinned against the wall, rutting as deep as he can go. Your breath comes out in short puffs as you take his knot, your mind briefly thinking about if he is to get stuck.

Would you even mind that?

Your boyfriend begins to thrust harder, faster, fucking you up and up and up against the wall in the moonlight. Your body is forced to near another orgasm, your pussy gripping around him tighter than a vice. “Nico,” you whine. “N-Nicolas, it’s too much! I-I can’t take much more!”

Nico pulls away to stare at you, his canine eyes filled with unshed tears. His teeth are bared and his jaw is tight. He, too, is holding back. You cup his face in your hands, your fingers caressing through his thick, coarse fur. “I need you to cum,” you beg. “Please fuck me and cum deep in my pussy. Fill me up. Make me yours.”

You’ve never wanted anything more than you want his cum…well, maybe sex with him. And now you’re getting it. You couldn’t be more blessed to get dicked down the way you are now. Little Red Riding Hood with her big, bad, sexy wolf.

Nico’s eyes flash with a fire that is almost animalistic. Untamed. It thrills you yet frightens you. This isn’t your Nico anymore. This is a beast. A monster who needs his fill. And you’re more than happy to give it to him.

He grips you to him as if you’ll vanish if he doesn’t and proceeds to fuck your brains out. “Gonna fill you,” he groans. “Gonna fill my baby up.” You frantically nod, locking your limbs around him to trap him against you. “Yes!” you moan. “Do it! Cum with me, Nico, baby, please!”

You can feel his knot swelling up inside of you, begging to be released from its torture. “I love you,” he growls into your ear. “Love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you too!” you sob, the throws of your third orgasm taking over. “C-Cumming! Nic, I’m cumming!”

And finally, you do. Like a spray of champagne shooting out of a corked bottle, you explode all around Nico’s knot. The feeling is so intense that your fingers and toes cramp. You toss your head back and moan to the skies, letting the Gods above know of the ecstasy you feel. Nico frantically pistons into you, chasing his own orgasm until he finally cums with a low grunt that gradually grows louder.

He begins to roar, the sound muffled by your breast as he nuzzles his face into your chest. You gasp at the steady warm stream of cum that enters you, filling you to the brim. There is so much that it drips down your thighs, sticky and wet. You are now officially, unmistakably his.

Once your highs fade, Nico’s body relaxes against yours and his roars of pleasure die down to soft growls and grunts. Exhaustion soon takes over and he crashes to the floor with you still in his arms. Gently, after giving you a nimble squeeze of your tit, he gently pulls out of you and rolls onto his back beside you. You moan at the loss of his cock, your pussy feeling sore yet tingly.

Together, you lie on your bedroom floor side by side, panting, sweating, and absolutely drained. You’ve never felt this way before. You feel like you just ran a marathon! But the ache you feel is so delicious that you almost want to go again. “Oh, Nico,” you sigh, tired yet satisfied.

You turn to stare at your beast of a boyfriend only to find that your beast is now a human hunk again. “Oh, you’re back!” you joyfully exclaim. He wordlessly stares at you, his tan skin and toned body slick with sweat. His cock, no longer knotted, is soft and flaccid from his intense orgasm between his thick, muscular thighs. It’s still thick but much smaller compared to his werewolf size and a beautiful shade of tan.

Unable to keep yourself off of him, you snuggle up next to him, laying a hand on his toned stomach. “You feelin’ okay now?” You softly ask.

“Mmm,” he hums, looking absolutely energized now. He has a glint in his eye and he is almost glowing from the inside out. He tilts his chin down to kiss you, his lips soft and supple. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

You smile, giving him another chaste kiss. “It was my pleasure…seriously.” You both laugh at his, the tension in the air thick with sexual chemistry. Only the two of you will know of this night…and maybe the neighbors too. You yawn, feeling exhaustion grip you again. “Now, let’s—“

“Uh-uh,” he interrupts, a crooked smile on his face. He points down at his now-human cock that is now semi-hard.

“Again?!” you gasp, ogling at him. “What, are one of the symptoms of a full moon being increasingly horny too?!”

Nico smiles at you, playfulness in his eyes. “Don’t answer that,” you sigh, already hooking a leg around his waist. You press your tits up against his hard chest, feeling his dog tags against your heated skin. “Just fuck me again.”

And your boyfriend does just that. Again and again again, making you cum your brains out in every position you can think of. That night, you get exactly what you’ve been wanting for months now.

You don’t get much sleep until dawn, but you don’t complain. Not a bit.

THE END.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

hi! can you do a ethan laundry x reader where reader is ghostface too please ? (with smut if it’s possible)

Request: Riley!reader who wants to get revenge on sam for dewey’s death. She puts on the ghostface costume and is the mastermind for scream 6’s murders

I need someone to recreate this gif with

Warnings: mention of murders, scream 5 spoilers,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

After years of surviving the masked killers, your father lost his life during the last murder spree in Woodsboro. 

All because of Samantha Carpenter. If she hadn’t gone to your father’s trailer and asked for his help, he wouldn’t have died in that hospital corridor. He would still be living his quiet life as a retired police officer with a slight drinking problem and spend his days watching shitty TV while thinking of all sorts of dumb excuses to call your mother — and hopefully one day rekindle their relationship.

But now he was gone and you wanted revenge. Revenge for taking your father from you. Revenge for killing all hopes for your parents to get back together. Revenge for making your mother so heartbroken. 

You wanted to stab Samantha Carpenter and watch her bleed out. 

Once you got back to New York and started college, you crossed paths with other people who had the same dark urge. A grieving father, and his two remaining kids — Richie Kirsh’s family. 

‘’Quinn should go. She’s fast.’’ 

‘’Sam is strong,’’ the redhead reminded them, knowing her roommate better than everyone else around the table.

‘’Then Ethan should go.’’ You glanced at Ethan, sitting before you. ‘’Can you take Sam?’’ 

He hesitated. He was confident about the elder Carpenter, but what if someone else was at the apartment? ‘’What if Chad’s there? He’s getting close with Tara and Sam is not letting Tara out of her sight since the new wave of murders.’’ 

Chad could bring a challenge for Ethan. Amber was able to take him to the ground last year, but it was dark and she took him by surprise. You’d rather not take a chance. 

‘’I think it would be better if we went for Gale next,’’ Bailey said, not agreeing with your plan. ‘’We have to finish Richie’s movie—’’

The second victim was going to be killed using Amber Freeman’s mask.  The same mask that was used to kill your father. 

You slammed your knife on the table you were all sitting at, making the faux-detective and his son jump. ‘’She’s my mother, you sick fuck,’’ you reminded the older man, not letting him finish his sentence. ‘’You will not touch a single hair on my mother’s head, got it? It’s Sam we wants, not her.’’ 

Although they were crime partners, they were disposable. If any of them dared touching Gale Weathers, it’s their blood that will spill next. There’s enough rage in your small body to take them down.

‘’And Tara,’’ Quinn added.

You shrugged, not really caring for the other Carpenter sister. 

After everyone was dismissed, Quinn went back to her and Sam’s apartment and Bailey to the police station. You could see on his face that he was mad at you, but you were the one in charge.  

A chair screeched on the old wood floor and Ethan came up to you, a dark look in his eyes. He looked like a mommy’s boy in his preppy polo from the Gap. You didn’t understand why he chose to dress up in a ‘character’. All he had to do was use a fake name and pretend to be nice to Chad. 

‘’The way you talked to my dad gave me a boner,’’ he informed you, not even embarrassed by it. You glanced down, seeing the tent in Ethan’s pants. ‘’He might be okay with killing his wife, but I would never harm my mother,’’ you said. Your eyes shifted back to Ethan’s face as you grabbed his belt to pull him closer. ‘’Besides, I’m the brain of the operation. I make the calls.’’

—

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